Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Darkness.

It is inevitable. It doesn’t matter how many lanterns are lit in the streets, or how brightly the moon and stars shine. Darkness always settles, seeping into the furthest corners of Singapore’s canals.

She prefers it that way. The darkness offers her cover, a blanket of protection, under which she can complete her self-appointed duties.

At the moment, this includes watching a most mysterious figure stroll along the pathways and across the bridges without a care in the world.

She observes him from bamboo rooftops, her eyes narrowing with every move he makes. He seems drunk, but she can’t distinguish his features from beneath his leather tricorn hat. Following above like a leopard stalking its prey, she keeps her steps light, though she doubts the stranger will notice her. Despite his intoxicated mannerisms, he’s quite focused on his goal.

A goal that she assumes has to do with Sao Feng’s collection of priceless treasures.

It’s a crafty front, hiding his stolen wares in the place least expected for a Pirate Lord—a small temple, with some story made up about the sanctity of the inner chambers to keep all unsuspecting parties from entering. Instead, they leave their offerings to the gods on the steps outside. She can’t help but notice that the mysterious stranger chooses to step around said offerings, rather than trample all over them, like his predecessors have done.

Still, he's a pirate; there’s no doubt about it. She sighs quietly and takes an arrow from the quiver on her back, securing it in her bow before raising it. Her hand is steady. Her aim is clear.

So, why can’t she bring herself to take the shot? The voice in the back of her head wants her to wait and see where this goes. He’s been so brazen, so careless. She almost wants to see what he has planned, if anything. But if the stranger gets away, it’ll be another mark against her already unflattering record.

As she stays there, stuck in her indecision, the stranger pulls the feather of a gull out of his pocket and sticks it in the keyhole of the door's padlock. There’s no need, really. Those chains have been there since she was born. She’d be shocked if they hadn’t rusted into nothing yet.

The stranger mutters curses under his breath as he jiggles the feather in the lock. When it fails him, he digs into his long coat again and takes out a hairpin, similar to the ones she typically uses. It must be stolen—but from where she wonders.

She lowers the bow slightly, the string going slack. He sticks the hairpin into the lock with newfound confidence, but it, too, is no help. The stranger finally shouts, “Oh, bugger all!” and kicks the doors.

The chains break. The doors give way with little resistance. The stranger stares at them and rests his hands on his hips. “Well, how d’you like that?”

She can’t help cracking a smile. But she has a job to do. Just because she admires his confidence, it doesn’t mean she’ll let him do as he pleases. She slips down the side of the dwelling she’s perched upon, keeping out of sight as she follows the stranger into the temple. He’s already picking through the assorted jewels and gold treasures. He grabs a sword that leans against the wall, thrusts it about, then puts it down, shaking his head. “No, that’s not right.”

She observes silently for a moment as he picks up chalices, jewelry, statues, and pottery, and sets them back down, muttering things like, “Eh, that doesn’t fit the cabin,” and “Ooh, Hector would like that…too bad he’s not getting it.”

His voice is painfully English, though she notices a unique regional dialect. Interesting that he should be all the way on this side of the world. Slowly, she approaches him as he steps back, looking around the room. “Well, now, first things first. What am I taking for myself?” he asks the emptiness.

She slides a dagger out of her sleeve and quickly secures her arm around his neck, pressing the blade to the vital vein. “How does ‘nothing’ sound, thief?” she hisses.

To her surprise, the stranger immediately raises his hands. He’s smarter than he appears. Most pirates she faces struggle, and then it’s all over in a matter of seconds. “Disappointing. Though I suppose there are worse outcomes.”

“How did you find this place? Even Sao Feng’s closest men only know the general details of its location.”

“That, mate, is for me to know, and you to lose sleep over,” the stranger chuckles.

She scowls and tightens her grip on the knife. “I suggest you cooperate now. I will be much more merciful than Sao Feng. When he finds out you tried to rob him–”

The stranger tsks at her. “Now, now. How do you think he got all this treasure in the first place?”

“That—yes, fair point, but that doesn’t matter,” she refutes. “You’re a thief.”

“I am a redistributor, mate. I am merely redistributing all this great wealth to those less fortunate. Namely, myself.”

“And what if I redistribute all the blood in your body to those less fortunate? Namely, me?”

“I see your point. Shall we make a deal, then?”

She pauses. Her grip on the dagger loosens just slightly. “What kind of deal?”

She can practically hear the smirk in his tone. “You put the blade down, and I’ll never show my sorry face here again. Savvy?”

She’s not an idiot. She knows that the moment she lowers the knife, he’ll pull out a sword, or a pistol, or something else that will surely try to kill her. But she’s got more than one trick up her sleeve, too, so she pretends to take the bait. “Fine.”

She brings the knife away from his throat. As she expected, he turns and pulls out a sword—only to be blocked by her own blade. In the lanternlight, she can finally get a better look at him, and she’s surprised to see that he’s also younger than most pirates she’s faced—surely just a few years older than her. However, upon seeing her, the stranger’s eyes narrow curiously. “So, you are a woman.”

She raises an eyebrow, holding her stance. What is that supposed to mean? “Is that really relevant at the moment?”

The stranger grins, gold and silver teeth glinting in the light. “Well, it drastically alters my tactics of escape.”

She scoffs and thrusts her sword at him, but he parries, and she has to block quickly. The clanging of steel against steel fills the otherwise silent temple, ringing in her ears. Her gaze is focused, locked on her opponent, who has a gleam of amusement in his eyes. She grimaces—he must not be taking her seriously—and lands a particularly close slash, tearing the sleeve of his coat. He holds his cutlass up defensively as he stops to glance at it. “Well, now. You’re not bad at this.”

“I don’t pick fights I can’t win,” she states, raising her jian. “Which makes one of us.”

“Why’re you out here, anyway?” the stranger asks as he sidesteps her. “Running around in the middle of the night; chasing down unsavory men. Is it that hard to secure a suitor?”

She glares and matches his pace. “I’m not looking for a suitor.”

“Good. All men are pigs,” the stranger says matter-of-factly.

“Even you?”

“Of course. I’m only talking to you so I can get to the doors.”

Suddenly, the strange pirate sheathes his sword and dashes for the still-open entrance. “Oh—damn,” she curses, sheathing hers as well and running after him.

His running is clumsy, almost unnatural like he’s either inebriated or forgotten how to move normally on steady land. Still, he manages to scramble onto the roof of the shelter she’d been watching him from earlier. She scales it with ease and continues to give chase, their footfalls thudding and echoing into the night.

Her eyes narrow when she gains on him. Though this game of theirs has been fun, it ends here. With only the moon to give her light, she takes an arrow and sets it in her bow, preparing to raise it.

But the thatched bamboo roofs can be slippery sometimes, especially during the wet season. She loses traction on one step, her foot sliding to the side. She yelps and closes her eyes as she awaits the unavoidable thud of her body on the dirt pathway below. There’s no coming back from this.

But something grabs the collar of her robes, keeping her from falling. Another hand finds her waist, and she opens her eyes as the strange pirate pulls her closer, that crooked grin returning. “Careful, love. Wouldn’t want you getting hurt.”

“Your breath smells like rum,” she retorts as she braces a hand against his shoulder, no cleverer insult coming to mind.

He laughs, and her stomach does some sort of odd somersault. “Oh, you can do better than that, I’m sure.”

Her jaw tightens, but she’s not as worried as she typically would be. She keeps calm, holding her head high. “Well? What’s your next move, thief? Or do you plan to hold me like this for the rest of the night?”

“Tempting,” the stranger replies. “Very tempting. But I’m afraid I’ll have to pass.”

The next thing she knows, she’s been swung to the other side of the roof, essentially tossed into the canal. She hits the water and swiftly swims to the surface. As she splutters, fixing the strange pirate with a fierce glare, he smirks and bows to her from the roof. “May you remember this, love, as the night you almost caught Captain Jack Sparrow!”

And just like that, he’s gone. The darkness settles in again. The night is silent except for the beating of her heart.

Sao Shuǐ swims to the nearest dock and pulls herself up halfway, resting her arms on the wood. She stares at the rooftop where Captain Jack Sparrow had just stood and lays her head in her arms. A slight smile creeps onto her face.

Then, a low moo catches her attention. One of the cows tied in the byway blinks at her before mooing again. “No one asked you,” Shuǐ chastises, pulling herself out of the water completely.

Ugh. Pirates.

Chapter Text

“Jia, you should’ve seen it. It was–”

“Harrowing? Dangerous? Definitely not a series of the smartest moves you’ve ever made?”

Shuǐ gives her friend a look. “I was going to say exciting.”

“You think everything that puts your life at risk is exciting,” Jia points out, barely glancing at her. “May we please focus on the festivities now?”

Shuǐ huffs and looks forward, watching the lion dancers sway and shift in the large costume so it looks like a real creature. But though Jia’s interest has waned, Shuǐ’s mind keeps replaying the events of a few nights ago, unable to settle. She’s executed greedy rivals trying to steal her father’s loot before and moved on easily afterward. Why is this one cunning pirate plaguing her mind the way he is?

Probably because he’s the only one she’s ever let live.

“I’m only saying,” Shuǐ starts again without thinking, “you’d get what I meant if you’d been with me.”

Jia turns to her and sighs, grabbing her arm. “Come on. If we’re going to talk about this, let’s do it somewhere that’s not so crowded.”

Shuǐ grins at her. Jia always gives in so easily—when it’s her, at least. Other people don’t get the same treatment, but they’ve been friends for years. They may not look thick as thieves at first glance, but after you save someone from drowning once, you tend to stick around. Even if it’s just to make sure they don’t get pushed into the water again.

They walk a street full of vendors and Jia lets go of Shuǐ’s arm, putting her hand back into her sleeve. “You and your midnight antics. One of these days, you’re going to get yourself hurt.”

“I have to prove myself to my father somehow,” Shuǐ reasons. “If he won’t let me sail, the only way I can show him I’m worthy of my own ship is by taking care of business on land.”

“Shuǐ, be realistic. Sao Feng is too stuck in his ways to teach you how to be a pirate,” Jia says bluntly. “Besides, even when you have succeeded, all your past victories have been attributed to your half-brothers. You’re fighting a losing battle.”

Shuǐ blinks at her, a bit taken aback by her unusual forwardness, then grumbles and reaches back to adjust one of her hairpins. Jia quickly changes her tune. “All I mean is, I’d hate to watch you throw away your good health for the sake of someone who doesn’t see you. Besides, piracy is an occupation meant for bandits and otherwise unpleasant characters. There are much more respectable careers that will fulfill your odd thirst for adventure. You could become an explorer.”

“Between the pirates and the colonizers, I’d be eaten alive,” Shuǐ mutters.

“Then be a poet. Or a scholar. Or an artist,” Jia suggests. “You’d still be able to travel the world in those professions.”

“But do I get to sit in a crow’s nest? Do I get to steer a ship into battle? Do I get to give the commands? Do I get to fire a cannon?”

“Well, no, not typically.”

Shuǐ nods, as though she’s proven her point. “Exactly. Where’s the fun in it all?”

“Being blown apart by a cannon is not classified as fun,” Jia disagrees.

“How would you know? You’ve never tried it.”

Jia rolls her eyes, but Shuǐ can see her biting back a smile. “Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever understand you.”

“I doubt it,” Shuǐ replies. “Not until you join me in my midnight antics.”

“Mm. Don’t get your hopes up. I’ve lasted this long, after all.”

Shuǐ smiles and directs her gaze to the sky. The stars twinkle in the distance, but the lanternlight shrouds them from sight. She wonders how magnificent they would look if she were out on a ship, with nothing but open sea on either side of her, and nothing to block out the heavens.

Jia covers her mouth as she yawns. “It’s getting late. Do you think we should start heading back for the night?”

“No,” Shuǐ answers quickly. “It’s not that late.”

“I don’t know why I asked you; you’re never tired,” Jia mumbles, mostly to herself. “I suppose you’re right, though. We haven’t even seen the fireworks yet. I thought they’d be started earlier.”

Shuǐ starts to nod, but then she gets a strange gut feeling. The words have struck a chord within her. Fireworks…the fireworks would last most of the night. Timed correctly, the sound from them and the festival combined could mask the sound of anyone breaking into Sao Feng’s treasure storage.

“Anyone,” of course, being a certain pirate captain she let get away.

Jia notices the sudden change in her demeanor and nudges her. “Shuǐ? Are you alright?”

Shuǐ grabs her arm and pulls her into an alley, speaking in a hushed voice. “I need you to trust me for a moment. My stomach is doing something.”

Jia’s brow furrows. “I told you not to steal those rolls. If you must, I saw an empty barrel a few alleys down–”

“No, not like that. It’s one of those forewarning feelings. I’m going to go check on my father’s wares.”

“Oh, Shuǐ, now you’re just being paranoid.”

“You don’t have to come with me,” Shuǐ says, starting off. “I’ll give you the full story tomorrow.”

But when she looks back, Jia is right behind her. “Jia, what–”

“You said I’d have to see it for myself, so that’s what I’m doing,” Jia interrupts firmly. “But you have to handle all the fighting. I don’t think I’m ready for that much yet.”

Shuǐ smiles at her and beckons with a hand. “If you say so.”

The two creep through back alleys and byways, getting further and further away from the center of town and the festivities. Shuǐ opts to approach the temple from the back instead of the front to avoid immediate conflict. As expected, the fireworks begin to sound off as they’re settling at their posts. Jia becomes less and less excited as their already long journey results in an even longer waiting game, and she voices her complaints within the half hour. “Shuǐ, do you just happen to run into trouble on the nights you decide to keep watch, or do you not tell me about the uninteresting ones?”

“The latter,” Shuǐ replies in a whisper, watching the entrance like a hawk.

Jia groans and brushes down her hanfu. “I knew it. I’m going home.”

“Wait, wait! I’m sure he’ll be here any minute,” Shuǐ assures her.

“Shuǐ, I’m not going to sit here all night waiting for a pirate that, as far as we know, has left port and is heading off to pillage somewhere else,” Jia hisses. “How can you be sure he’ll–”

“Here we are, gents! One Pirate Lord’s pile of bounty, as promised.”

Shuǐ quickly covers Jia’s mouth with her hand, silencing her. They both look around the corner, and there he is—the one and only Captain Jack Sparrow, and what must be his crew. He gestures to the temple with pomp. “Inside, a number of riches await us!”

Jia removes Shuǐ’s hand from her mouth, squinting slightly. “That’s the scoundrel who’s stolen your heart? Really?”

“I don’t remember saying the thing about my heart,” Shuǐ counters.

“You don’t have to say it for me to know it.”

Shuǐ gives Jia a look and puts a finger to her lips. “Stay. I’ll handle this.”

“You don’t even have your sword!” Jia whisper-shouts to her.

Shuǐ gestures for her to keep it down as she climbs to an opening in the temple walls, wide enough for her to slip through. There’s the issue of getting past the stacks of treasure without making any noise, but luckily, there are plenty of places along the wall for her to place her feet as she shimmies across and climbs down to the floor. She can hear Jack continue his speech to his crew as she goes to position herself behind the doors, brushing down her robes. “…by the end of the night, we’ll be richer than the richest men! So, without further ado, I give you Sao Feng’s bounty!”

No doubt learning from his prior break-in, Jack kicks the doors open—though it’s clear that he’s not expecting to see Shuǐ standing on the other side with her arms crossed, a stern expression on her face. Startled, he yells and stumbles back, then seems to recover, his grin a bit more nervous than she remembers. “Ah. It’s just you.”

“You told me that if I didn’t slit your throat, you’d never show your face here again,” Shuǐ says accusingly, stepping forward.

“I’m a pirate, love. Not exactly a man of my word.”

One of the crew clears his throat. “Cap’n, is this an…acquaintance of yours?”

Jack turns back to his crew as though nothing is wrong. “Yes. Men, this is…” He looks back at Shuǐ. “You are?”

If it were under different circumstances, she would find him humorous. She raises her head, now addressing the whole of Jack’s crew. “Sao Shuǐ.”

“Sao Shay,” Jack repeats before his head whips back to her, his brows furrowed. “Sao?”

Shuǐ simply smiles innocently at him. “Here’s the deal: I want all of you out of my sight in the next–” she stops and looks at the position of the moon, “–two minutes or I will raise the alarm, and my father and his men will behead every crook involved in this little stunt.”

“Father?” another one of the men repeats, this one giving Jack a look that plainly asks, “Are you serious?”

Jack shrugs at him and turns back to Shuǐ. “You didn’t mention that during our chat the other night.”

“I don’t remember there being a lot of chatting,” Shuǐ responds coolly. “You owe me a new set of clothes, by the way.”

“For all the wrong reasons,” he mutters.

“Captain!” someone calls back to Jack, and he shoots them a look before jabbing his finger at Shuǐ. “You. Don’t go anywhere.”

She watches with amusement as Jack huddles up with a few of his men, catching some of their hushed conversation. “What do we do, Cap’n? Should we cut her down?” one man asks.

“There’s no need,” Jack replies. “She’s lying.”

Another gasps. “No. You think so?”

“Gibbs, frankly, I’m still not sure she’s a woman.”

One of the men looks up at her, then ducks down. “She looks like a woman to me.”

“Sure, she looks like a woman. But for all we know, she’s some devilish creature here to put us on the path of righteousness.”

There are murmurs of agreement from other men in the crew, and Shuǐ can’t help but throw a glance at Jia, wondering what she’s thinking about all this. “So, strike one: she has no way of proving she’s a flesh-and-blood woman, and therefore no way of proving she’s Sao Feng’s daughter,” Jack continues. “Two, there was no mention of an alarm when I was here the other day. Hence, she’s the worst kind of liar—an overconfident one.”

“Then what’s our plan, Jack?”

“I’ll call her bluff. She’ll be so flustered she won’t know what to do, and we’ll carry on with our evening. Savvy?”

Shuǐ clears her throat. If that’s their game, then she’s more than happy to play. “Are you finished?”

Jack turns around with a knowing smirk. “Yes. And I’m sorry to say, love, but you’re full of rubbish. I’d wager all the bounty in this temple that there’s no alarm.”

“Hm. Have it your way,” Shuǐ says, slipping a dagger out of her sleeve and between her fingers.

She throws it at a rope holding one of the lanterns up. It slices through the knot like butter. The lantern falls, causing the rope to go slack and swing, knocking a goblet over. Several pearls spill out of the goblet and roll across the table, with a few falling onto a drum. The pearls bounce off the drum and hit a precariously balanced diadem, which falls and knocks over a collection of swords leaning against the wall, eventually colliding with a spear that slices another rope. Even though Sao Feng’s estate is a little closer to the center of town and the fireworks are still bursting above them, Shuǐ can hear the bell alerting her father’s men that the temple is being broken into from where she stands.

Jack stares at her, then turns to look at his men, who are awaiting the next move. “What’s wrong with you lot?” he barks, shooing them away with his hands. “Go on! Back to the Pearl!”

“Shouldn’t we at least bring the wench?” one of his men asks, starting to approach Shuǐ.

She swiftly grabs one of the spare swords from the wall and points it at him, her glare searing. “Take another step, and the treasure won’t be the only thing you lose tonight.”

He takes the hint and quickly follows his crewmates. Jack watches him, then turns back to Shuǐ with that crooked grin of his, tipping his hat with a flourish. “Till next time, love.”

Shuǐ gestures for him to move along with her sword, but the moment he turns his back, a smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. Jia doesn’t come out from her hiding space until all the pirates are clear from her view. “Why did you let him go?” she inquires with confusion, still approaching warily.

Shuǐ shrugs, tossing the sword to the side as she carefully walks down the steps. “Makes things more interesting.”

“You’re such a terrible liar. You like him.”

“As much as anyone can like a person they’ve only met twice and tried to kill on both occasions.”

“You like a pirate,” Jia teases in a sing-song tone, and Shuǐ can only roll her eyes in reply. “Technically, you like a pirate, too.”

“You don’t count.”

“But when I am a pirate, you’ll like a pirate.”

“Oh, hush.”

Chapter Text

His blasted compass isn’t working.

Or, rather, it is working, and he just doesn’t want to admit it. The Black Pearl is already a few miles out to sea, but the charmed compass continues to point back to Singapore. Jack scowls at it, then closes it and shakes it, grumbling to himself, “Yes, I’m aware of that, but I desire other things more.”

Still, the compass directs him to Singapore. As Jack closes the compass and repeats the cycle for the eleventh time, Barbossa finally approaches the helm. “Jack! The men are askin’ about our heading.”

“I’m—working—on—it,” Jack grunts, each pause punctuated by him shaking the compass harshly.

Gibbs, who has taken over the wheel, glances over his shoulder at him. “Is the compass still not workin’, Cap’n?”

Barbossa watches the needle as it spins and stops in Singapore’s direction. He looks up at Jack, smirking knowingly. “Nay, it’s workin’ just fine. Isn’t it, Jack?”

Jack closes the compass and turns his nose up. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Hector.”

“I think ye have some idea,” Barbossa snorts, heading back to the deck.

Gibbs watches him walk away, then asks Jack, “Does this have somethin’ to do with your lady friend in Singapore?”

“Who?” Jack bluffs, opening his compass slightly just to slam it closed when it continuously points back to land.

“Ah, I see now. If I may be so bold, Cap’n,” Gibbs begins, “she was quite pretty.”

Jack harrumphs and shoves the compass into one of his coat pockets. “Keep her steady, Gibbs.”

“Aye, Cap’n.”

He strolls the length of the deck to the bow, weaving around his crew while they’re at work. When he reaches the forwardmost part of the Black Pearl, he leans against the taffrail, tracing the lines in the wood. The girl is pretty, sure. So what? Jack finds most women pretty. You have to when your options are limited. And just because this girl is also smart, and gutsy, and has proven she can give him a run for his money, which most people can’t do, it doesn’t mean she’s what he desires most, no matter what the compass says.

And yet, the thought of her hounds Jack like a storm hounds a ship at sea. And from the looks of the compass, it won’t be ceasing any time soon. That’ll make it hard for their navigation. He gives them about a week before they get stuck in a storm. The weather is too brutal in this season to risk it.

She is the daughter of a Pirate Lord. She could be a useful asset. She certainly appears to have a lot of free time.

No, no, no. Bad idea.

But…

Jack drums his fingers against the taffrail before once more taking out his compass and flipping it open.

It points, steadily, to Singapore.

Jack grins and turns around, walking briskly to the stern. “Mister Gibbs! Change of plans! We’re heading back into port!”

…

When Shuǐ is summoned to Sao Feng’s offices, she’s not thrilled in the least. But there is a strange sort of pride in her chest as she’s escorted through the estate and her half-brothers and their mothers all side-eye her, whispering to each other under their breath. In her world, any attention is better than no attention.

Her father sits on his red throne (said to be stolen from an emperor on the mainland), polishing his dao sword as his men bustle around him, counting gold pieces or inspecting fine jewelry. He doesn’t even look up as Shuǐ enters the chamber. She holds back a sigh and bows lowly. “Father.”

Sao finally stops polishing the sword, holding it up to look at his reflection in it. His tone seems calm, but there’s an underlying coldness to it. “Someone raised the alarm at my repository last night.”

“Oh? There was nothing taken, I hope,” Shuǐ says sincerely as she raises her head.

“No. But there was something left behind.”

Shuǐ raises an eyebrow as Sao reaches into a pocket of his robes. He pulls out a small throwing knife and tosses it to her. She catches it with ease and pretends to inspect it—she knows it's hers. “It was found stuck in the wall. My men determined that it is what cut through the rope that triggered the alarm,” Sao explains as he watches her intently.

She hums and twirls it with her fingers. “What does that have to do with me?”

Her father continues to stare at her, his expression unchanging. “It’s not mine if that’s what this is about,” Shuǐ lies.

Sao’s eyes narrow. “Your name is carved into the handle.”

It is. Quite messily, but hers all the same. Shuǐ glances at him and pockets the knife. “Alright, fine. Jia and I saw that someone had broken the lock on the doors, so I raised the alarm. But I assume from this conversation the thief got away before your men arrived.”

“And what were you doing so far from the festival?” Sao questions suspiciously.

“Getting away from all the foul men deflowering us with their eyes,” Shuǐ says as she throws a harsh glare at one of the men standing guard at the doors, who instantly stops ogling her.

Sao huffs with irritation, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How many times do I have to tell you, girl? Your brothers are more than capable of keeping my commodities safe.”

“Oh, yes, they’re very able. They do a remarkable job guarding from the taverns they frequent each night.”

“You make it sound as though they’ve never worked. They’ve cut down plenty of my enemies.”

“Interesting how they’re always so vague on the details of how, though, isn’t it?”

“Shuǐ,” Sao starts through grit teeth, but she interjects. “I don’t understand how you fail to realize that the only successor who has even the slightest interest in our legacy is the one you refuse to teach! My brothers continuously shirk the responsibilities you’ve given them in favor of nighttime companions, whether they be in the form of a drink or a courtesan. If it weren’t for my intervention, you’d be ten times poorer than you are now. I am the one who picks up their slack, so why am I the only one being shunned?”

“Silence!” her father thunders, standing with fury. When he raises his hand to her, Shuǐ’s breath hitches, but she refuses to flinch, her glare unmoving. It won’t make any difference to her—it hasn’t for years.

Like she thought, Sao doesn’t go through with it, choosing to grip her face harshly instead. “It would do you well to remember your place, daughter. The sea would devour you before you ever made it out of our waters.”

“You don’t know that,” she argues, wincing when his hold tightens.

“We both know it. Consider this your last warning,” Sao cautions her. “Keep to your place. Next time, I will not be nearly as forgiving of your disobedience. Maybe it’s about time we started looking for a husband, yes?”

The thought sends a spike of fear through her. But Shuǐ simply clenches her jaw, then reaches up and tears his hand off of her. The guards move to stop her as she storms toward the doors, but Sao commands, “Leave her.”

She departs with all the grace of a tsunami, purposefully bumping into as many of her half-brothers as possible before slamming the doors to her bedroom closed behind her. Her rage boils in her chest, and she hurls the throwing knife tucked in her robes at her mirror, shattering it.

Shuǐ stares at herself in the shards of the mirror still in frame—the red marks on her face from where her father seized it, her perfect-fitting dress, her hair pulled up and secured by hairpins in a formal style, and she can’t stand it. This is the image of a proper lady, the image she’s been forced into since birth. If this is the role she faces being imprisoned in for the rest of her life, to be something that’s commanded, to marry some respectable man who will shackle her away from the ocean, and never to know the thrill of seeing the furthest corners of the world, or winning a fight to the death, or finding a treasure to end all treasures or anything ever…she’ll take her chances with the sea.

Shuǐ tears the hairpins out of her hair, throwing them so they lodge themselves in the walls. She rips off the sash of her dress and shrugs off the top piece of her robes, tossing it into some corner of her room before throwing open her window. She grabs the rafters and hoists herself onto the slant of the roof. With no regard for her robes tearing, Shuǐ climbs until she reaches the crest and sits with her back against it.

She takes a breath, letting the salt-tinged air fill her lungs. When she looks up, she can see the masts of her father’s fleet of ships out in the harbor framed against the blue hue of the heavens.

In those masts and sails, she sees everything she could be. Everything she wants to be.

So, she makes a decision—a decision that she’s considered making many times before. But now that the threat has been vocalized and made real, she knows it’s the only choice she has.

But if she wants to be out of here by nightfall, she has to work fast.

Shuǐ sets her face and slides back down to her window. Once inside, she moves to her closet, digging to where she keeps all her trousers hidden. Once she has those on, she grabs a long-sleeved top and a sleeveless, medium-length tunic, throwing them on as well.

This time, when she looks in her shattered mirror, her heart is at rest. The tunic is torn down the sides where it reaches her legs, giving her more autonomy. The sleeves don’t cover her hands, making it easier for her to unsheathe her sword or nock her bow. Strands of her ink-colored hair fall messily in front of her face. This is better. This slows her beating heart and loosens her tightened chest.

Now she just needs to pack.

And by the time dusk settles, Shuǐ has a bag of spare clothes, money, and non-perishable foods ready to go—along with some maps and charts confiscated from her half-brothers. Sneaking out of the estate is a breeze, as is sneaking onto a ship without being detected. Getting out of the harbor, however, is another issue entirely.

Shuǐ sets her bow on the helm, looking at all the ropes and sails…and ropes. She purses her lips, then shakes it off. How hard can it be? She’s stowed away plenty of times and watched her father’s crew at work. She just has to recall what goes where.

And if she does die at sea…well, it’s better than not trying at all.

She unties one rope connected to the sails and walks to her left. When the rope doesn’t give, she walks to the right. But there’s nowhere to tie the rope. So maybe she has to work her way from one end to another.

As Shuǐ heads for the stern, she gets that odd, nervous feeling in her gut again. She brushes it off as being worried about the time she’s losing—but as she ties one rope onto a different post, a voice comes from behind her. “That doesn’t go there.”

Shuǐ swiftly turns around and unsheathes her sword, pointing it at Jack. He holds up his hands in surrender, casually leaning against the taffrail across from her. “Hold your horses, love. I come in peace.”

“I find that hard to believe,” she says calmly, though her grip on the sword tightens, “considering what you came here for the last two times.”

Jack doesn’t reply as he walks a little closer, scanning the ship and nodding appreciatively. “This your ship?”

“No,” Shuǐ answers truthfully. Then, when Jack glances at her: “Yes. I’m borrowing it. What are you doing here?”

“If you must know,” he begins, pulling out what appears to be a compass. He stares at it for a moment, and when his eyes flicker back to hers, there’s a tinge of annoyance in them. “Apparently, there is something on this godforsaken island that I simply cannot leave without if I want to set course again.”

Shuǐ glares at him, then lowers her sword and sheathes it, returning to her work. “If you want Sao Feng’s treasure, go right ahead. No one’s stopping you tonight.”

Jack chuckles. “Ah, I see. Father Dearest is getting on your nerves, is he?”

She simply waves him along, her mind refocused on the task at hand, despite not having any idea what she’s doing. She can feel Jack staring over her shoulder, though, and she straightens up to fix him with an irritated look. “Do you mind?”

“How can you be the daughter of a Pirate Lord and still be doing everything so wrong?” he questions.

Shuǐ narrows her eyes and shoves the rope into his hands. “Well, if you’re just going to stand there, you can help.”

She starts off to the bow, but Jack interrupts. “Do you really plan to captain this ship by yourself?”

“No.”

“Then where’s your crew?”

“Haven’t found one yet.”

“You need at least one other person to manage, love.”

“Don’t have anyone else.”

Jack hums and ties off the rope. “What about your wallflower friend from last night?”

Shuǐ stops in her tracks. How does he know about Jia? She’d stayed hidden throughout most of the encounter—though, Jia’s not the best at sneaking around. It shouldn’t be that much of a shock if she was watching the action. “This was short notice,” Shuǐ continues finally. “She wasn’t available.”

“Not available? Or not daring enough to commandeer a fearsome Pirate Lord’s ship with said Pirate Lord’s daughter, I wonder?”

“She’s stronger than she looks.”

“I’m sure she is.”

“Alright, enough of this,” Shuǐ huffs, turning back to Jack with one hand on her sword. “What do you want from me, Sparrow?”

“First of all, it’s Captain Sparrow to you,” he quips, looking quite offended by her misuse of his title. “Secondly, I am mostly bewildered by the fact that you, Sao Feng’s—alleged—daughter, are out here, stealing one of your—again, alleged—father’s ships in the dead of night with no one but yours truly to bear witness to your sins.”

She raises an eyebrow. “You want to know why I’m stealing a ship?”

“No, I couldn’t care less about the why. I want to know why you’re dead set on stealing a ship when it’s clear that you have no idea what you’re doing.”

“I know what I’m doing.”

“Ah. So, it’s just a hobby of yours to stand around looking confused and do things in the wrong order?”

“Captain Sparrow, I’ve watched men who don’t know how to read or count on their fingers sail ships with ease,” Shuǐ snaps back. “As someone who can do both of those things, I should be able to manage.”

“They let you read?”

Shuǐ rolls her eyes and continues working as Jack goes on. “Love, I have no doubt that you are smarter than my entire crew put together. But this isn’t about intelligence, it’s about skill and experience—things you clearly do not have. A ship needs two things to run: a crew that knows how to do these, as you call them, simple tasks, and a captain who knows when those tasks should be performed. You’re correct, it doesn’t take a lot of intelligence to do most of the tasks on a ship. But it takes skill, experience, and intelligence to tell the crew when to do those tasks. Face it, love, you’ve bitten off more than you can chew.”

The words strike a chord with her. There is some truth to what he says. Still, Shuǐ glares at him. “My father won’t teach me how to read a compass, much less how to cast off. How am I supposed to get skill and experience when he insists on me being a proper lady?”

“You could join someone else’s crew,” Jack states as she stomps to the mast, reaching for the ropes there. “And I happen to have a proposition at the ready.”

Shuǐ pauses—just for a moment, but she still does. Her fist clenches, and she glances back at Jack. “What kind of proposition?” she asks carefully.

Now, this is admittedly a very bad idea. If she weren’t running off of pure spite, she might be a bit more hesitant to accept any sort of deal from the man who’s tried to rob her father twice. But being a pirate requires thinking like a pirate. And pirates are fueled by spite, so she’s got step one down.

Jack smirks. “You join my crew, and I’ll teach you how to be a proper pirate captain. Then, once I decide you’re fit to gather your own crew, I’ll bring you back to Singapore and help you ‘borrow’ your father’s best ship. How does that sound?”

“Like there’s nothing in it for you,” Shuǐ replies, walking toward him. “I’m not a fool. What do you gain in mentoring me?”

He looks at her for a moment, then huffs lightly. Like before, Jack takes out a compass and flips it open, staring at it intently. “Well,” he says, his eyes still locked on the compass, “all great captains pass their knowledge down at some point, and your potential is no more wasted on my ship than it is on land.”

She squints at him, then leans forward to look at the compass. However, Jack closes it before she can catch a glimpse, pocketing it again. “Besides, there is a growing shortage of fine women in the world, and—assuming you are, in fact, a woman—I would hate to be complacent in the famine.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Shuǐ questions.

“It means you wouldn’t last three days on the sea by yourself and I’m doing all men a favor by keeping you alive.”

Shuǐ scoffs lightly, despite her stomach fluttering again. Jack grins at her and holds out his hand. “Do we have an accord, love?”

She glances at his hand, then back at him. She might as well try and push her luck. “I need three days to get my affairs in order.”

“You get two.”

“And every captain needs a first mate, so if I can convince my wallflower friend, I’m bringing her.”

“The more, the merrier.”

Shuǐ’s eyes narrow, still trying to assess his motive. She knows better than to take anyone at their word, especially someone like him. But for all her wariness, there’s no hostility from either side. Jack seems—dare she think it—trustworthy. At least in the sense that she believes he knows better than to try anything that would get him stabbed. For once, she doesn’t feel underestimated.

She glances at his hand again, then smiles and shakes it. It’s calloused and rough, no doubt from handling the duties of a ship’s captain. “You have a deal.”

“Excellent,” Jack says, waving her away as soon as they’ve shaken on it. “Now, go on. Shoo. If you’re not here at dawn on the third day, we’re leaving without you.”

“Noted,” she replies as she grabs her bow and her bag from the helm. She throws the latter over the taffrail before climbing onto it, then turns and salutes Jack. “See you then, Captain.”

And with that, she leaps down onto the dock using a rope and makes a mad dash for the shadowy streets before any of her father’s guards can catch her. Shuǐ throws one quick look back at the ship, then continues running.

When she knocks on Jia’s window, she’s not expecting an answer. But Jia opens the curtains, then sighs and gestures for her to come in. “Why are you dressed like that?” is the first thing she asks as Shuǐ closes the window behind her.

“I’m leaving Singapore,” Shuǐ answers in a hushed tone.

“What?” Jia exclaims, going quieter when Shuǐ shushes her. “Tonight?”

“Well, I was going to leave tonight, but now I’m leaving in two days.”

“How? You don’t know how to sail. Are you stowing away again?”

Shuǐ smiles widely. “Better. The captain from last night—Jack Sparrow—he asked me to join his crew.”

Jia stares at her, and her shoulders drop in disappointment. “Shuǐ.”

“He said he’d help me steal a ship! I have to learn how to work on a ship first, but–”

“Shuǐ,” Jia hisses, “have you completely lost your mind?”

Shuǐ stares at her, then shrugs. “You have! I can’t believe you’re even considering this.”

“I’m past considering,” Shuǐ tells her. “We shook on it.”

“My gods,” Jia mumbles, running a hand over her face. “You are insane.”

Shuǐ grabs her other hand. “Come with me.”

“What—no! It’s one thing for you to run off and play pirate; you are not roping me into this, too.”

“Jia, look me in the eyes and tell me the idea isn’t the slightest bit appealing.”

Jia paces the length of her room. “It’s not! I know that a peaceful life is of no interest to you, Shuǐ, but personally, I don’t think I’d mind it! My plans for my future include marrying a wealthy man, having a family, and overall, living in luxury until I die of old age.”

Shuǐ looks at her like she’s the one who wants to join a pirate crew. “But that sounds so boring!”

“So? That’s about as good as it gets for us.”

“Jia, that’s the whole point of this! If you get married, your husband will think you’re amazing for a year, and then he’ll find another pretty young thing to lust over. But we don’t have to deal with all of that ridiculousness! We can leave! I can learn how to be a pirate, and you can—I don’t know—cut your hair!”

Jia turns to her, her eyes narrowed. “Shuǐ, I gave up on that when I was twelve.”

“And you cried for a week,” Shuǐ recalls. “Come on, Jia. Haven’t you ever wanted to be more than just what they told us we could be? Something to toss away once they’re done with it? Someone’s property?”

Jia opens her mouth to retort, then closes it. She bows her head as she recollects herself, and when she looks up again, Shuǐ is surprised to see tears in her eyes. “Of course, I have. You know I have, Shuǐ. But I’m not you. I can’t just leave and pretend like everything will work out for me. People hang pirates.”

“They hang women for much less,” Shuǐ declares bluntly. “Might as well do something to deserve it, right?”

Jia shakes her head, but Shuǐ catches her smile. “I can’t do this without you, Jia. You’re my sister in everything but blood.”

“You just need someone to make your arrows.”

“Yes, also that, but mostly the sister thing.”

“Shuǐ, I’m sorry. I wish you luck, but there is no way you can talk me into this.”

Shuǐ grins at her.

Chapter Text

“I cannot believe that you managed to talk me into this,” Jia mutters, looking around the corner nervously.

Shuǐ shushes her, ducking as she sees two patrolling guards pass. “For the record, you’re the one who actually agreed to it.”

“Only after you pestered me for two days straight.” Jia looks down at her trousers and picks at the fabric, scrunching up her face. “I still don’t get why you wouldn’t let me wear a skirt.”

“We’re going to be on a ship full of men. I did you a favor.”

“Again, cannot believe you talked me into this.”

Their path to the docks is finally clear, and Shuǐ gestures to Jia before dashing across the street. Jia grumbles and follows. Dawn hasn’t quite broken yet, but the sky grows lighter and lighter with every passing moment, and Shuǐ whispers, “We need to find the ship, fast.”

“Well, what does it look like?” Jia asks.

Shuǐ opens her mouth to answer, then shuts it. Jia turns to her and glares. “He didn’t tell you what the ship looked like?”

“Look, there weren’t a lot of specifics discussed–” Shuǐ cuts herself off when she sees a shadowy figure approaching Jia from behind. “Duck.”

“What?”

Shuǐ grabs Jia’s collar and tugs her forward, stepping in front of her and unsheathing her sword. The shadowy figure blocks her thrust with their own blade, saying, “A sword-happy lass. No wonder Jack wants ye under his wing.”

Shuǐ holds her ground. “You’re with Captain Sparrow?”

The shadowy figure takes a step into the lanternlight—a man with a bearded and weathered face that she recognizes from the night Jack’s crew tried to steal her father’s loot. “If ye’d waited, I would’ve introduced meself,” he chastises. “Hector Barbossa. Jack’s first mate.”

Shuǐ narrows her eyes but puts her sword down. “Are you here to escort us to the ship?” Jia questions, looking Barbossa up and down uneasily.

“In a sense,” he replies, taking one of the lanterns from the dock posts. He walks to the edge of the dock, waving for the ladies to follow him. They glance at each other before going ahead. There’s a rowboat waiting there for them.

Jia stares at it, then looks at Shuǐ. “If this is some incredibly elaborate prank, I’m going to become a pirate just so I can kill you.”

“You can kill me without becoming a pirate,” Shuǐ points out.

Barbossa laughs loudly, catching them both off guard. “Ye didn’t expect us to bring the Pearl into port just to pick ye up, did ye?”

“No, of course not,” Shuǐ bluffs. “That’s far too risky.”

“I did,” Jia hisses to her, and Shuǐ lightly steps on her foot to tell her to hush up.

Barbossa smirks at them and gestures to the rowboat. “Yer chariot awaits.”

So, they squish into the seats with their packs of clothes, food, personal belongings, money, and arrows (in Shuǐ’s case). Barbossa unties the rowboat, then sits across from them and starts rowing. Jia keeps her eyes firmly fixed on the coast as they slowly exit the harbor, and Shuǐ has no idea what to say to fill the empty silence, so she brings her bow over her head, inspecting the designs she’s carved into it over the years. “Not many sailors skilled with a bow and arrow,” Barbossa mentions, almost more to himself than her.

“It’s more useful than it looks,” she states as she puts her arm through it again, “but I can handle close-range weapons, too.”

Barbossa grunts, then looks at Jia. “What about her?”

Jia is not being conversational in the slightest, so Shuǐ speaks for her. “She’s a pretty good pickpocket if you can coax her into it. And she’s exceptional at making arrows.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” Jia gripes, tossing her an annoyed look. “Where is this ship, anyways?”

“She’s hard to conceal in the day,” Barbossa discloses, “so we had to hide her in the cove.”

Jia harrumphs and brushes her bangs out of her face. “If we come around the bend and I see another rowboat, I’m swimming back to the harbor.”

Shuǐ gives her a look but has no chance to retort as she catches sight of a huge ship. It has a hull as black as coal and frayed sails to match. A Jolly Roger flag flies from one of the three masts, the skull and crossbones cast in the soft light of morning, proud as it can be. It’s certainly one of the prettier ships that’s graced their waters. Shuǐ whistles, smiling at the sight of it. “Looks like you’re staying.”

Jia seems to hum with an indifferent tone, but Shuǐ sees the way her eyes sparkle. When they come to the side of the ship, someone tosses ropes down to them. Barbossa catches one and Shuǐ catches the other, following his lead and tying it to her and Jia’s end of the rowboat. Once the ropes are secure, Jia asks, “What now?”

Barbossa just grins, and suddenly, the rowboat is hoisted up, jerking all of them out of their seats. Jia grabs Shuǐ’s shoulder for support and scowls at Barbossa. “A little warning would have been nice.”

They’re jerked about again before he can respond, and Shuǐ hears Jack yell, “Steady, men! Don’t throw them overboard before they’ve had a chance to step on deck!”

She looks up as the rowboat comes to a stop just past the cannons and sees him standing in the break between the taffrails, where someone climbing up the ladder on the side of the ship might come to the deck. Jack sees her staring at him and gives her a gaudy smirk. “Glad you could make it, love.”

“Catch.”

“What?”

Shuǐ grabs her pack and stands in the rowboat, poised to toss it up to him. “Catch!”

When Jack catches it, he stumbles back and is quickly replaced by a stocky man with sideburns, who holds out his hands to help Shuǐ onto the deck. She thanks him before reaching back and offering Jia assistance. Jack throws Shuǐ’s pack to the side and brushes his coat off, then opens his arms with ceremony. “Ladies, allow me to welcome you aboard the Black Pearl!”

Shuǐ nods while Jia scoffs lightly. “You’ve met my first mate, Hector,” Jack says, pointing at Barbossa, then gesturing at the rest of the crew. “That’s Gibbs, our sail-master, Bootstrap the cook-carpenter, and others. Crew, you remember Sao Shay–”

“Shuǐ,” she interrupts.

Jack turns to her. “Pardon?”

“You’re pronouncing it wrong. It’s Shuǐ, not Shay.”

“That’s what I just said.”

Jia shakes her head. “It’s not.”

Jack blinks at both of them. “Shay.”

“Shuǐ,” she corrects.

“They’re the same—Gibbs!” he shouts, pointing at the stocky man. “Say that one’s name.”

“Shuǐ, Cap’n,” Gibbs answers.

Jack turns to Shuǐ triumphantly, only for her to say, “No, he said it correctly. I don’t know how you can’t hear the difference.”

“Alright, well, how about this? I’m captain here and I’ll call you whatever I like,” he declares.

Shuǐ shrugs. “Aye, Captain.”

Jack huffs and turns to Jia. “You. How are you named?”

“Liang Jia, sir.”

“Jia?”

“Yes, sir.”

Jack turns back to Shuǐ. “Why can’t you have a name like hers, eh? Are you always this difficult?”

“Yes,” Jia responds for her, and Shuǐ shoots her a look.

Jack mutters, “Figures,” then goes back to the crew. “Heave up the anchor! Get ready to cast off, men!”

“What’s our headin’, Jack?” Barbossa asks.

“Undetermined. Show the fine ladies to their quarters, will you?”

Barbossa looks at Shuǐ and Jia, jerking his head toward the hatch to the hold. As they follow him, Jia says under her breath, “If we’re bunking with the men, I’m sleeping in the crow’s nest.”

“Make sure you have a rope,” Shuǐ murmurs. “I’d hate it if you fell.”

Thankfully, Barbossa takes them to the food locker below deck, where the crew stores all their nonperishable rations. Jia doesn’t seem all too happy with this arrangement, either, but she keeps that on her face and out of her voice. “This will do.”

Shuǐ throws her pack into a corner of the food locker and sets her bow and quiver neatly on top. Satisfied with the arrangement, she turns back to Barbossa. “What can we do to help get the Pearl moving?”

Barbossa looks her up and down. “Ye can swab the deck.”

Shuǐ’s face falls and Jia snorts. Barbossa narrows his eyes at her. “Ye can swab the deck, too, if ye find it so amusing.”

“I’d rather not,” Jia replies bluntly.

“Then ye can stay down here and count every grain of rice in that sack,” Barbossa commands, pointing at a burlap sack in the corner of the room, “and make sure there’s enough to last the men at least three weeks.”

Jia stares blankly at him, then sighs. “It’s better than Shuǐ’s job.”

Shuǐ crosses her arms. “Is there anything I can do other than swabbing the deck?”

“I know Jack says he brought ye on as an apprentice, but he’s busy at the moment, and as long as he’s busy, you’re under my orders,” Barbossa states as he approaches her, stopping only when there’s a foot left between them. “Ye want to be a pirate, lass? Ye start with swabbin’ the deck.”

She frowns at first but stops herself from saying anything she might regret. This isn’t personal. She hasn’t proven she can take on anything more than swabbing the deck, so it makes sense that that’s her first job. Holding Barbossa’s glare, she lets her arms fall to her sides. “Yes, sir.”

Barbossa smirks at her before turning to return the deck—she assumes she’s meant to follow him. Shuǐ looks at Jia once he’s out of earshot. “Have fun counting rice.”

“Oh, I will,” Jia replies, reaching up to fix the hairpins holding her bun in place.

The Black Pearl has already begun moving as Shuǐ makes her way to the deck. The swaying isn’t too much for her to lose her balance yet, though she does find herself stepping to the side more often than usual. Barbossa has disappeared, so it seems she’s on her own for now.

She locates a small group of men with mops and figures that’s where she’s headed. “Excuse me,” Shuǐ says as she approaches them, rolling up her sleeves. “Would you happen to have a spare one of those?”

One of the men looks at her like she has three heads. “What’s it matter to you?”

Shuǐ gives him a similar look back as she ties her hair up. “Barbossa told me to swab the deck. I need a mop to do that.”

All of them glance at each other, and another pirate—one with a wooden eye—clears his throat. “There’re no more mops left, miss. Just rags.”

Shuǐ turns to him, then sighs. “Of course. I’ll take one of those, then.”

He points at the bucket of water, which has some torn pieces of cloth soaking in it. She grabs the largest one and gets to work, ignoring all of the eyes on her. They want her to swab the deck? Fine. She’ll swab the deck until it’s sparkling.

Which is easier said than done. The areas that the others have done are fairly half-assed, and she has to go back over and do them properly. By the time the sun is at its peak in the sky, she’s swabbed over half of the deck, only for it to be trampled over again by the men who are at work hoisting and dropping different sails at Jack and Barbossa’s orders. Shuǐ groans as she stands and leans against the taffrail, her shoulders protesting any more abuse as she puts the rag to her forehead.

And then, when she raises her head, she sees that line where sky merges with sea. Her eyes widen as she scans her surroundings. Singapore becomes nothing more than a mass of land in the distance with the rise and fall of every wave, and she looks down to watch the ocean splash against the hull of the ship. Shuǐ leans forward until the upper half of her body is hanging over the taffrail, transfixed on the water below.

“Miss Sao!”

Her head shoots up, and she looks around for whoever just yelled. When her eyes land on Barbossa, who’s at the stern, he gestures at her to keep working. Shuǐ gives him a look but throws down her rag all the same and gets back to it.

It’s going to be a long first day.

…

“Lunch!”

“Thank God,” Jack mutters as the crew cheers. “Gibbs, take the wheel for me, will you?”

Gibbs nods as he walks up to the helm. “Aye, Cap’n.”

“Good man. I’ll send Hector along with something to tide you over,” Jack promises as he heads for the hold. “If I can find him.”

He gets stuck in the crush of the crew dashing to the mess, but eventually manages to get his portion of food and starts toward his quarters, only to overhear Barbossa by the hatch. “–ye can’t just go talk to the captain. Everything goes through the first mate first—me.”

“Then may I speak with the captain, First Mate Barbossa?” comes Shuǐ’s voice, a hint of sarcasm buried in her tone.

“No. He’s busy.”

“Well, may I speak with him when he’s not busy?”

“Not without askin’ first.”

“Hector,” Jack says, coming around the corner, “I need you to go make a plate for Gibbs before the others devour what’s left.”

Shuǐ and Barbossa turn to him. Jack raises an eyebrow. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Nay, Captain,” Barbossa admits, giving Shuǐ a look. “Miss Sao was asking when she might be able to speak with ye.”

She returns his slight glare, and Jack grins, strolling over. “She may speak with me now. What does my loyal apprentice desire?”

Shuǐ fixes him with the same look. “I want to swab the deck by myself from now on.”

“What?” Jack and Barbossa ask in unison before looking at each other.

“I know it seems like a task befitting more than one person,” Shuǐ continues, “but I believe I could do a much better job in half the time if I were doing it on my own.”

“Sorry, I’m still stuck on that first part,” Jack interjects. “You want to swab the deck?”

Shuǐ squints at him. “No. Not in the slightest. But if you’re going to make me do it anyways, I’d rather do it alone.”

Barbossa frowns at her. “Ye have a problem with the way our men swab the deck, Miss Sao?”

“Of course, I do. They leave spots undone, and even when they are scrubbing, I could swear that the deck looks worse than when they started. It’s as if in the process of swabbing the deck, they’re un-swabbing the deck.”

Jack opens his mouth to respond but is interrupted by Jia storming towards them. “Can you–” she jabs her finger at him, then Barbossa, “–one of you teach your men to knock before entering a room? This is the fourth time–”

“We’re pirates, lass,” Barbossa retorts. “Manage your expectations.”

Jia gives him a dirty look and turns back to Jack. “And you. Will you please just teach her how to do all these pirate things quickly so I can get off this ship?” she gripes, pointing at Shuǐ.

Jack hands Shuǐ his plate of food before addressing Jia. “I understand your excitement, but pirate captain-ing is a very important job,” he tells her seriously. “There’s a lot that your friend over here whose name I apparently cannot pronounce needs to learn. I’m afraid you’re stuck with us for…well, just off the top of my head, four or five years.”

“Five years?” Jia seethes, looking at Shuǐ with a downright murderous glare.

“I’m a fast learner!” Shuǐ assures her, but Jia’s already stomping off. She sighs and hands Jack’s food back to him before starting to go after her.

“Ye need to ask permission to be dismissed by the captain, lass!” Barbossa calls after her.

Shuǐ turns without missing a beat. “May I please be dismissed so my friend doesn’t slit my throat while I’m sleeping tonight?”

“Go on, then,” Jack replies, waving her off.

Once Shuǐ is out of sight, he turns to Barbossa with a grin. “She’s feisty. I like that.”

Barbossa groans and heads to the mess.

Chapter Text

When Shuǐ opens the door to the food locker, Jia is picking through grains of rice, a prominent scowl on her face. Shuǐ lets her continue in silence for a moment, then speaks up. “What number are you on?”

“Do you really think I’ve been counting rice since this morning?” Jia asks incredulously. “That jerk of a pirate won’t know any better if I give him a random number.”

Shuǐ hums and walks to her pack, reaching in and grabbing a loaf of bread that she packed for them to snack on. She breaks off some and offers it to Jia, but she doesn’t even look up. Shuǐ sets the bread down on the barrel across from her, then sits herself down on a nearby crate. “How long are you going to be mad at me?”

Jia glances up at her, still scowling. “Until I’m off of this ship. Which is apparently in five whole years.”

“Jia, you know me. I’ll pick it up in half that time.”

“Fine. I’m mad at you for at least five years.”

Shuǐ gives her a look. “Jia–”

“No, no, you don’t get to ‘Jia’ me,” Jia scolds. “I’m not the one who decided to uproot us because I got charmed by a shady, no-good pirate.”

“One, I did not get charmed by anyone,” Shuǐ shoots back. “Two, if you’re so unhappy already, I’ll see if I can convince Captain Sparrow to arrange passage home for you the next time we go into port. This is your first offense, so your parents will be much more forgiving than my father. But I know you, Jia. You wouldn’t have come with me if you were as against all of this as you say you are.”

Jia looks at her, then huffs and goes back to picking at the rice. “If I’m not adjusted by that time, I’m holding you to that. And I changed my mind. I’ll still be mad at you once I’m off.”

Shuǐ smiles at her. “Fair enough.”

There’s a brief rapping at the door, but neither of them gets a chance to answer it before Barbossa barges in. “Are ye done with that rice yet?” he asks Jia.

“40,000 grains,” Jia answers dully, reaching up and stretching her arms. “What’s next?”

“Wrong. Count again,” he orders before turning to Shuǐ. “You’re sitting on a barrel of beans. Ye can count those, too.”

“Yes, sir,” she answers as he leaves.

Once the door is closed and Barbossa’s footsteps have faded, Jia looks at Shuǐ and makes a face. “I could still swim back, right?”

“I wouldn’t recommend it.”

Engrossed in their tasks, neither of them knows how much time has passed until the door creaks open again a while later. Jia sits up and Shuǐ turns to see two men poking their heads through the doorway—the one who was swabbing the deck with her earlier and a companion she noticed him swapping jokes with.

Jia grimaces and puts her head in her hands. “I don’t care if you make me walk the plank. I am not counting another grain of rice for as long as I live.”

“Dinner’s on the deck tonight,” the man with the wooden eye tells them. “Captain sent us to tell you.”

Shuǐ straightens up. “Thank the gods. I’m starving.”

Jia sighs as Shuǐ walks to the door. “Have fun.”

“You’re not coming?” she asks, stopping in the doorway.

“Not willingly.”

Shuǐ gives her a look, then waves them along. “She’ll join us another night. She’s shy.”

“I am not–!” Jia starts, but her exclamation is cut off by Shuǐ closing the door. When she turns to the two men, the balding one gestures down the passage. “Ladies first.”

“Thank you,” she responds politely, walking with purpose. She pretends not to hear them snickering to each other until they reach the hatch. Then Shuǐ turns around, blinking innocently. “Remind me of your names again?”

“Pintel, miss,” the balding pirate says.

She nods and looks at the pirate with the wooden eye, who gulps. “Ragetti.”

“Pintel and Ragetti,” Shuǐ repeats. “I’ll have you know, Pintel and Ragetti, that I could not care less about the way men look at me. When you grow up surrounded by them, it becomes more of an annoyance than anything. I don’t like it, but I see no point in making a fuss about it anymore, so long as it’s only looks.”

Pintel and Ragetti glance at each other. “However, my friend in the food locker—Jia—is an only child and rather sheltered, so she isn’t quite as adjusted as I am,” Shuǐ continues. “Now, I don’t know about you, but I’d like us all to get along. So please pass this message on to your crewmates: if I catch any of you leering at her like vultures, I will skin you alive and wear your flesh as a pashmina. Understood?”

They both stare at her with wide eyes, and her gaze narrows when she doesn’t get an answer. “Am I understood, gentlemen?”

Ragetti finally clears his throat. “Uh, yes, miss.” When Shuǐ nods and turns to walk onto the deck, she hears him ask Pintel, “Can she do that?”

“Best not to test her,” Pintel mutters back. “After all, Cap’n’s still not sure she’s a woman.”

“And what’s a pashmina?”

“I don’t know. Not sure I wanna find out.”

Shuǐ refrains from snorting when Ragetti hums in agreement. At least she’s secured some comfort for Jia. She then redirects her attention forward as she hears the rest of the crew’s raucous conversation and laughter. The men have broken off into groups, the largest of which is by the bow. When Shuǐ approaches it, Jack looks up and grins. “Look who’s come to join us, lads.”

Some of the men start to chuckle, but Shuǐ simply smiles and accepts the plate that’s offered to her. “I must confess, I wasn’t expecting an invitation,” she states as she leans against the mast. “The last time I sailed, the crew avoided me like I had the plague.”

“Love, you’re a woman on a ship,” Jack points out. “You are the plague.”

Shuǐ raises her brow at him, then brushes it off and decides to focus on her dinner. Integrating herself with the crew is important for her survival from here on out, so for now, she’ll ignore such comments. As she takes a bite of her (rather chewy) chicken leg, Gibbs addresses Jack. “You still haven’t told us where we’re goin’, Cap’n.”

Jack pauses halfway through a sip from a bottle. “Right. Yes. There’s an explanation for that.”

When the men lean in, awaiting it, he clears his throat. “I’ve decided that, for one night only, I will be taking suggestions for our next grand expedition.”

Shuǐ eyes him curiously while she eats. Jack is obviously an unorthodox captain, but this is especially interesting. The way Sao Feng runs his ship, his word is law. “D’you mean it, Captain?” Ragetti asks excitedly. “I’ve been thinking about the lost city of Atlantis and–”

Pintel smacks him on the back of the head. “Don’t be daft; that’s just a myth. Stick to somethin’ real, like the Ark o’ the Covenant.”

“What about King John’s lost treasure?” another of the men suggests. “That’s said to be worth quite a bit, that is.”

Gibbs shakes his head. “We’ll never find any of those. But bend your ear to this—Cap’n Kidd’s loot, the tales say that–”

Jack suddenly snores loudly, cutting through the chatter. Shuǐ looks up from her plate to see that while the crew has been talking, he’s pulled his hat down over his face and leaned back, as though he’d fallen asleep. When the discussion ceases, Jack sits up and readjusts his hat. “Come on, men, is that all you’ve got? You’re boring me.”

Shuǐ works very hard not to laugh, quickly taking another bite of chicken. “There’s only so many treasures in the world, Cap’n,” Gibbs points out.

“And I’m waiting for a proposal I haven’t already considered,” Jack shoots back. “Don’t limit yourselves just to treasure. We need a truly grand adventure, one full of discovery and risk.”

Shuǐ speaks before anyone else has the chance to. “How about finding a dragon?”

The men turn to her, all sporting similar looks of skepticism. Shuǐ looks back at them before scoffing playfully. “What, sunken cities are on the table, and legendary creatures aren’t?”

“Dragons are even more absurd than that,” Pintel argues, but Jack shushes him, gesturing for him to quiet down. “Hush. I want to see where this goes.”

Shuǐ grins and carries on. “I’ve heard stories from my father’s crew,” she says, choosing to leave out that it was usually from below deck. “They say there are four dragons that reside in the four furthest corners of the seas, protectors of their riches and secrets. Of course, to go too far north or south in these harsher winter months is equivalent to signing a death warrant, but the eastern and western dragons—well, we could reach one of them quite easily, don’t you think?”

“And what would we do once we find ourselves a dragon, love?” Jack questions.

Shuǐ’s smile drops. She hasn’t thought that far ahead. “Well, we would need proof that we found it.”

“We could kill it and harvest it for scales,” Gibbs suggests. “I wager those’d fetch a hefty price.”

“No!” Shuǐ exclaims, straightening up. When all the men look at her again, she remembers herself and glares at them. “It’s a dragon. We’d all probably perish before we ever pierced its flesh, and regardless of that, we have no idea what kind of consequences that would have on the balance of the ocean. They’re not like normal animals.”

“Well, what about takin’ a piece of the valuables you mentioned?”

“Again, dragon. We’d have the same problem as before.”

Ragetti looks at Shuǐ, bewildered. “You don’t want us to kill it, we can’t steal from it…what are we s’posed to do?”

She purses her lips, thinking it over. “We could still take a scale; I’m just not settled by the idea of us harvesting them. Reptiles shed—and it could hibernate, like lizards, but I doubt it since it’s probably aquatic—look, I only brought it up because the captain asked. I haven’t actually thought any of this out.” (And she mostly brought it up because the idea would have royally pissed her father off.)

“That’s becoming a trend with you,” Jack pipes up.

Shuǐ gives him a look but doesn’t say anything, though the urge to point out that nobody else had to share their plans is strong. Jack smirks back, then takes his compass out of his coat and tosses it to her. “Here.”

It goes clear over her left shoulder, and she turns to look at it before glancing back at him. “You were supposed to catch that,” Jack tells her.

“With all due respect, Captain, that was a truly horrendous throw,” Shuǐ responds as she sets her cleared plate down. She retrieves the compass and walks back to the group, observing it curiously. “And you threw this at me…why?”

“So you can give us our heading, love.” Jack turns and yells across the deck, “Hector! Steady the wheel for a moment; you’ll need to hear this.”

The crew murmurs to each other. Shuǐ’s brow furrows, but she complies, flipping the compass open. It doesn’t point north at first, which is what she expects—instead, the needle spins around before pointing northeast. “It’s pointing…” Shuǐ pauses as the needle jitters, but then it settles at northeast again, and she raises her arm in that direction. “…that way.”

Barbossa walks up behind Jack and crosses his arms. “And what exactly is that way?”

“No idea,” Jack replies. “But whatever it is, it’s going to help us find a dragon.”

“Or lead us straight to a dragon,” Shuǐ adds. “If there’s a map I could look at, we could determine the eastern and westernmost points of the ocean. That would give us something more to go off of.”

Barbossa grunts. “Not tonight. It’s late. All of ye should’ve headed to yer quarters as soon as ye were done with dinner.”

The crew—including Jack—groans, but most of them start collecting themselves and heading either to the hatch or to do one last check on the sails. As the men disperse, Barbossa turns to Shuǐ. “That includes ye, lass.”

“I’m not tired,” she says quickly. “I could stay up and look over those maps–”

“Ye have a whole deck to swab by yerself tomorrow,” Barbossa cuts her off. “If ye want to deliver on yer promise that it’ll be done in half the time, ye should sleep while we let ye.”

Jack stands with a wave of his hand. “Oh, let the girl stay, Hector. Whoever’s at the helm tonight could use the company.”

“You’re at the helm tonight.”

“Am I? Huh. Funny how those things work out, isn’t it?”

Shuǐ glances up at Jack, a slightly humored smile tugging at her lips. Then her gaze is pulled back to the compass, and her brow furrows as the needle spins. “It’s changing again,” she announces, interrupting Jack and Barbossa.

“Well, where’s it pointing now?” Jack asks.

Shuǐ’s arm follows the needle, circling with it until it stops, pointing directly in front of her—where Jack happens to be standing. “This way. Maybe it’s broken.”

She’s so busy trying to figure out why the compass’s direction has suddenly changed that she doesn’t see how Jack’s face lights up or hear Barbossa’s poorly restrained sigh as he walks over and snatches the compass out of her hand. “Miss Sao. Bed.”

“Oh, alright,” she mutters, heading for the hatch. “Good night, First Mate, Captain.”

Jack waves to her as she leaves the deck, then lets out an oomph as Barbossa shoves the compass into his hands. “You’re both insufferable,” he grumbles to Jack.

“So, what you’re saying is, we’re made for each other.”

Barbossa just tosses him a look before continuing to the hatch. Jack looks down at his compass and, for the first time since he stepped foot in Singapore, smiles at it.

…

Shuǐ waits until she’s certain that everyone else is asleep. Then she sneaks back onto the deck.

The Black Pearl groans and sways with the ocean, the wooden boards creaking under Shuǐ’s quiet steps as she slips past the lanterns at the helm. When she reaches the main mast, she starts climbing the ratline to the crow’s nest—she’s more careful than usual, given she has no source of light but the moon to help her place her hands.

Eventually, she reaches over the edge and pulls herself into the crow’s nest. Shuǐ leans against the mast and gazes at the sea, barely able to tell where the horizon is. The endless stars in the sky seem to bleed into the water, making it all seem like one huge abyss. If it weren’t for the unmistakable sound of the waves lapping against the hull of the Black Pearl, she might think they were floating in the sky.

Shuǐ closes her eyes and basks in the feeling of the breeze against her face. She can say whatever she wants to Jia about piracy, the thrill of the threat and the rebellion, but her heart knows the true reason she’s drawn to it all.

It’s freedom. Sure, she’ll have Jack and Barbossa barking commands at her the moment dawn breaks, but not right now. She’s far away from Singapore, far away from her father’s influence and any prospective suitors he may have for her. For at least a few hours, it’s just her and the night.

Or, more accurately, it’s her, the night, and Jack watching her from the helm.

Chapter Text

By the time the sun is peering over the edge of the sea and Barbossa comes up from the hold (Jack must’ve turned in at some point because Gibbs is at the helm), Shuǐ has already swabbed the whole of the deck and snuck down to her and Jia’s food locker to change. She’s touching up the dry spots on the deck when Barbossa calls to her. “Lass!”

“I have a name, you know,” she retorts, turning to face him.

“What d’ye think you’re doin’?”

“Swabbing the deck. Well, actually, I’m finished swabbing the deck. I just saw some areas that needed more swabbing.”

Barbossa stares at her. “Ye don’t expect me to believe that, do ye?”

Shuǐ shrugs and gestures to the deck. “See for yourself.”

His eyes narrow with suspicion, but he goes ahead and inspects her work, anyway. In the meantime, Shuǐ puts her mop up and tosses the leftover saltwater overboard. Barbossa comes back to her with an irritated grimace. “Now what am I supposed to make the men do all day?”

“Well, if I can drag Jia out of the food locker, you could make them count grains of rice,” Shuǐ suggests as she rolls her sleeves down, only half-joking. “Assuming they know how to count. As for me, I plan to make the captain deliver on his mentoring promise. Is he available?”

“No.”

“…Alright. Is there anything else I can do before the rest of the crew is up?”

Barbossa squints at her. “Can ye cook?”

“Barely,” Shuǐ answers honestly. Cooking, weaving, etiquette—she’d taken every opportunity to ditch those classes to watch her brothers learn swordsmanship and combat. Eventually, her father gave up on trying to force them on her. The only class of her own that she ever took an interest in was art. “I know enough to get by.”

“Tell the cook he’s relieved of his duties for the mornin’,” Barbossa orders. “And take yer friend with ye.”

“Aye, sir.”

Unsurprisingly, Jia opens the door to the food locker with a prominent frown after Shuǐ knocks. “Go away. The sun hasn’t risen.”

“You don’t know that,” Shuǐ points out, gazing at the windowless room behind her.

“Yes, I do, because you’re bothering me and I’m still tired. Now go.”

Shuǐ blocks the door before Jia can close it completely. “Barbossa told me to make breakfast.”

Immediately, the door swings open again, and Jia looks at her in disbelief. “Was he drunk?”

“Ha-ha,” Shuǐ replies sarcastically. “Can I pass that on to you, or will you add another year to your being mad at me?”

“Isn’t there anyone else on the ship who can cook?” Jia questions.

Shuǐ raises an eyebrow.

“Yes, you’re right, what was I thinking? If he asked you to make breakfast, they must truly be at a loss. Grab me that sack of flour and see if they still have any meat or vegetables—they probably went to a market before we set off, right?”

“Who knows? They’re not the most organized bunch.”

There’s no one in the galley when they arrive, so they quickly get to work. As Jia works on making dough, Shuǐ stokes the hearth. “What are you making?” she asks as Jia busies herself with rolling the dough.

“Dumplings,” she answers, rolling the sleeves of her robes up. “We should have enough to feed the whole crew. I’ll overestimate just in case.”

Shuǐ oohs and eyes the pork and scallion filling hungrily. Jia notices and brandishes the rolling pin at her. “Back off.”

“What? I didn’t do anything!”

“I don’t trust you around my food.”

“And yet, you’ll still end up asking me for help when it comes time to fold them.”

Jia looks up to stick her tongue out, but Shuǐ sees her eyes travel elsewhere. She turns around to see one of the men—the one who’d suggested they go after the lost treasure of a king the night before. For the life of her, she can’t remember his name. “Are you the cook?” she inquires, facing him fully.

“Uh, yes, miss,” he replies. “At least, I thought I was.”

Shuǐ nods before returning to her task tending to the hearth. “Well, rejoice. You’re not anymore.”

The man stands there for a moment, seemingly unsure of what to do next. “Barbossa’s on deck,” Shuǐ adds. “I’m sure he’s itching to give another command.”

“Right, miss,” he says finally. “Um. Thank you.”

Shuǐ and Jia both give him glances of surprise, but Shuǐ simply smiles at him. “You’re welcome.”

He smiles back before exiting the galley. Jia looks at Shuǐ and shakes her head. “A polite pirate. Now I’ve seen everything.”

“What’s his name again? I could swear Captain Sparrow pointed him out when we first came on board.”

“Don’t look at me. All of that nonsense was in one ear and out the other.”

It takes a bit, but the dumplings are done by the time the men have trudged into the mess. Jia even has time to add some side vegetables to all the portions. Shuǐ expects them all to dive in the moment their plates are set down, as she is—so when Ragetti turns to Jia and asks, “What’s this?” Shuǐ pauses midway through her bite to give him a bewildered look.

Jia shares Shuǐ’s confused expression. “It’s breakfast. You know, dumplings.”

One of the other men sticks his nose up at it. “Doesn’t look like the food we usually eat.”

“It’s probably much more edible than the food you usually eat,” Shuǐ mutters, mostly to herself but still loud enough for the others to hear. The chicken from last night wasn’t exactly a luxury meal.

“Well, I’m not sure I want it,” Pintel admits as he pushes his plate away.

“You either eat this or you eat nothing,” Jia states firmly, crossing her arms. “I did not wake up at the crack of dawn and slave away in the kitchen—which I did out of the goodness of my heart—just to be criticized because it doesn’t look like what you’re all used to. You can starve for all I care.”

She turns on her heel and stomps back into the galley to make her own plate. The men look at each other, and Ragetti hesitantly bites into the dumpling. His face brightens as he chews. “Oi, this isn’t that bad!”

At that, the rest of the crew starts digging in. Shuǐ resists the urge to roll her eyes and chooses to scan the table instead, her brow furrowing. “Where’s the captain?”

“Sleepin’, probably,” Gibbs answers. “He’ll wander in at some point.”

Shuǐ hums in reply. It makes sense—they were up fairly late last night, and Jack was probably up even later if he was at the helm. Besides, she has all the time in the world to learn how to be a captain. Patience is a virtue.

Unfortunately, it’s a virtue Shuǐ lacks, and it starts wearing thin when she finds herself standing around on the deck with nothing to do but watch the men run about completing their various tasks. It’s all too familiar to her unauthorized voyages with her father’s crew. That’s exactly what she was hoping to avoid.

She finally huffs and starts toward the hatch, ready to take matters into her own hands. “Where d’you think you’re goin’?” Barbossa asks as she passes the helm.

“To do something useful,” she retorts without sparing a glance. Once she’s in the hold, she heads back to the galley—Jia had set aside a plate for Jack, though only at Shuǐ’s request. (“If he wants to eat, he should do it with the rest of the crew!”) It was cold by now, but it was better than nothing.

With the chilled plate in hand, Shuǐ walks with purpose to the captain’s quarters. As soon as she reaches it, she swiftly knocks on the door.

She gets zero response, so she knocks again, a little more demanding this time.

After a second absence of noise, she firmly slams her palm against the door.

A loud clattering comes from the room, followed by what sounds like Jack muttering, “Oh, mother of bloody—go away!”

“I have food,” Shuǐ calls to him.

There’s a brief silence, then some sort of scrambling sound before the door opens to Jack looking more disheveled than usual. “Don’t go away.”

“Where’s your hat?” Shuǐ asks as she hands over his plate.

Jack blinks, then runs a hand over his head, his hair secured only by a red bandana, and frowns. “That is an excellent question. Allow me to answer it for the both of us.”

He goes to close the door, but Shuǐ blocks it with her foot and nudges it back open. Peering past him into the cabin, she can see a large, round table in the center, with miscellaneous maps, pieces of parchment, and dirty dishes strewn about—some have even ended up on the floor. “Did you fall out of your chair when I knocked?” she questions, amused.

“Aren’t you supposed to be swabbing the deck?” Jack retorts as he sets the breakfast plate down on some precariously balanced books.

“I swabbed it this morning.”

He gives her a bewildered look as he grabs his hat off of the floor, fixing it on his head. “It is morning.”

“Before dawn,” Shuǐ clarifies.

“…You swabbed the whole deck before dawn.”

“Yes.”

“By yourself.”

“Mmhm.”

“Even though nobody asked you to.”

Shuǐ nods. Jack snatches the dumpling from his plate and tosses it in his hands, then gestures at her with it. “You are a strange creature.”

“Thank you.”

“Well, what am I to do with you now?” Jack wonders, taking a bite of the dumpling. “Swabbing the deck is usually an all-day task.”

Shuǐ steps back to let him pass her, then quickly falls into pace with him as he starts to head for the deck. “You could deliver on your word, for a start. You’re supposed to be mentoring me, remember?”

“That I am, love.”

Shuǐ waits for him to say something more, and when he doesn’t, she steps in front of him, blocking his way to the hatch. “So?”

Jack pauses. He reaches into his coat and takes out his compass (again, with the compass), then makes a face and puts it back. “Alright, fine. Starting today, you will be shadowing me while I perform all of my captainly duties. That way, you’ll be able to see a true master at work.”

“Why do you keep looking at your compass like that?” Shuǐ inquires.

“First rule of being a shadow—shadows do not speak,” Jack says, brushing past her. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

Shuǐ watches him for a moment, then shrugs it off and follows him onto the deck. “Mister Gibbs! How’s she lie?” Jack asks as he strolls across it.

Gibbs looks up from tying down one of the ropes connected to the sails. “So far? We’re sailin’ leeward, Cap’n.”

Shuǐ opens her mouth to ask what leeward means, but Jack holds up a hand, and she begrudgingly shuts it. “Outstanding. Raise the sails and all that other stuff. You know what to do.”

“Aye, Cap’n.”

Jack nods back and keeps walking, but Shuǐ stays there, turning to Gibbs once she thinks Jack is out of earshot. “What does he mean, ‘all that other stuff?’”

Gibbs shrugs and goes back to work as Jack shouts, “Shadows are supposed to follow people, love!”

The rest of the crew snickers while Shuǐ shoots Jack a look, feeling her cheeks flush with embarrassment. He gives her one back, beckoning to her with a hand. She can feel frustration growing in her chest, but she bites her tongue, waiting for the opportune moment to bring it up.

Said moment only comes after almost an entire day of being entirely confused by everything and anything going on around her. Jack throws out orders so quickly that Shuǐ can barely catch up before he’s moved on to the next thing, and trying to figure out what all his commands mean is like learning a new language all over again. Now, dusk isn’t that far away, and Shuǐ is at the helm with Jack, leaning against the taffrail while he steers the ship. She’s been a silent observer for the most part, watching his hands move to different handles as he turns the wheel slightly to the left or right, but eventually, she clears her throat. “May I speak yet?”

“If you must,” Jack responds.

“I’m not entirely sure how me trailing behind you all day is supposed to teach me how to do all the tasks on a ship, especially if I’m not allowed to ask questions,” Shuǐ tells him bluntly.

Jack glances at her. “The captain’s job is not to do all the tasks on a ship, love. The captain’s job is to tell other people to do those tasks for him. Her,” he adds swiftly when Shuǐ’s eyes narrow. “Them. You know what I mean.”

“And how am I supposed to give those commands if I don’t know what to do or when?” she questions.

“I dunno, love. You tell me.”

Shuǐ huffs lightly and leans back to look at the ocean behind them, unable to see Singapore on the horizon now that they’re so far out to sea. “Look,” she hears Jack say from the wheel, “you learn captain things from the captain and crew things from the crew. That’s just how it works on a ship.”

Shuǐ looks at him and raises an eyebrow. “So, if I ask Mister Gibbs to teach me to raise the sails, he’ll say yes?”

“It depends—where are you going?”

Halfway down the stairs leading to the deck, Shuǐ turns back to Jack. “To learn crew stuff.”

“No, you’re not. You’re not done learning captain stuff,” Jack states. “Get back here.”

She sighs and returns to her place by the taffrail. It was worth a try.

Jack waits until she’s back in her corner to turn to watch the horizon. “Where are you going? ‘To learn crew stuff!’ It’s not that exciting.”

Shuǐ refrains from smirking at his murmuring and leans back again, closing her eyes to bask in the fading sunlight. Maybe today is just a trial run. Certainly tomorrow, she’ll start learning—actually learning—more.

…

“I’m not learning anything!” Shuǐ snaps as she paces the length of the galley furiously. “All he has me do is follow him around the ship; he doesn’t explain anything. He says that being quiet will motivate me to focus on learning more through observation, but I’ve been observing all day, and I don’t know any more than when I started. Jia, are you listening to me?”

Jia hums absentmindedly, too focused on preparing lunch. After she presented them with such lovely meals yesterday, the crew voted at dinner to have her take on the role of cook, which she graciously accepted, to Shuǐ’s surprise (though Jia does genuinely enjoy cooking for people, so it makes sense). Shuǐ groans and starts pacing again. “See? You don’t even want to be here, but you’re doing much more than I am, even just by making meals.”

“I also volunteered to sew up the torn sails in the brig,” Jia says, turning to toss a piece of burned chicken to Shuǐ. “And you may not like how the captain is going about all this, but he is right about one thing. Here, catch.”

Shuǐ catches the chicken in her mouth, scowling as she chews. “What would that be?”

Jia smiles mischievously. “Shadows don’t talk.”

“Oh, ha-ha. Whose side are you on?” Shuǐ asks accusingly.

“Not yours. I’m mad at you for the next five years, remember?”

“Well, would it kill you to take breaks?”

Jia rolls her eyes as she goes to set a piece of bread down on a plate. “The way I see it, this is payback for you dragging me along in the first place.”

Shuǐ snatches the bread from her and bites into it before Jia can take it back. “Why do you say that?”

“Come on, Shuǐ, you’re not an idiot. Sparrow fancies you. It’s the only reason he offered you a place on the ship. This is his way of trying to keep you close to him so he can woo you. It’s really quite sickening to watch.”

“He does not,” Shuǐ refutes, despite knowing it’s a very real possibility.

Jia shrugs and goes back to work. “Whatever you say. Though, if I were you, I would be using this to my advantage. A romantic entanglement with the captain will garner you much better treatment than the rest of the crew.”

“Jia, do me a favor and please stop talking.”

“Oh, don’t act like you wouldn’t enjoy that.”

Shuǐ glares at her and grabs another piece of bread. “I’m going to the deck.”

“Send the boys down when you get up there,” Jia requests. “And you’re only upset because you know I’m right!”

Shuǐ doesn’t respond. She just stalks toward the hatch, eating her bread as quickly as she can. Of course, she knows Jia is right—Jack pursuing her affections had been a variable that she’d considered as soon as he’d made his offer. But she was so caught up in the hope that someone was finally seeing her for more than what she is, it never occurred to her that it could somehow interfere with him teaching her how to be a captain. And she doesn’t like it. At least, she shouldn’t. She doesn’t.

The moment she reaches the deck, she shouts, “Lunch!” and then weaves between the crew to get to the main mast, where some of her supplies are sitting. Ragetti notices and asks, “You’re not comin’ to lunch, Miss Shuǐ?”

“I already ate,” she replies, picking up her sketchbook and flipping through it. “It’s a perk of being friends with the cook.”

“Ain’t she mad at you for the next five years, though?” Pintel inquires.

Shuǐ turns to them. “If you two don’t get to lunch soon, someone is going to steal your plates.”

That does the trick. With that, the deck is left empty, except for her. Since it’s a calmer day and their heading hasn’t changed, Gibbs simply tied the wheel off to keep it in place. Shuǐ doubts anyone will be coming back from lunch anytime soon—like Jack or Barbossa—so she won’t be bothered. That means she has the entire deck to herself. It’s a good time to catch up with everything she doesn’t understand.

Instead, she climbs up to the crow’s nest and flips her sketchbook open to begin a new drawing. And barely ten minutes into her self-appointed break, she hears the hatch open.

Shuǐ grumbles and looks over the edge—if she’s quiet, maybe whoever it is will leave her alone—and sees the former cook, the crewmember whose name she’s certain she knows but can’t remember. He’s tightening some ropes and loosening others, making sure the sails are set properly. Shuǐ watches him for a moment, then closes her sketchbook and secures it in the sash of her tunic.

The man turns with a start when Shuǐ lands on the deck with a dull thump, and then he sighs with relief. “Oh, it’s just you, Miss Sao.”

“That was a quick break,” she mentions as she walks over to him. “Are the others almost finished as well?”

“Oh, no, miss. I’m just a fast eater. I prefer being on deck, anyway.”

“Well, that makes two of us.”

The man nods. They stare at each other for a few moments until Shuǐ finally sighs, brushing her hair back with one hand. “My apologies, but I can’t seem to recall your name. I could swear Captain Sparrow pointed you out when we first arrived, and I keep waiting for it to come to me–”

He laughs sheepishly, cutting her off. “That’s alright, miss. I don’t think half of the crew remembers my name.”

“Then I will make a point to remember it from now on.”

“…It’s William Turner, miss. But most everyone calls me Bill or Bootstrap Bill.”

Shuǐ’s brow furrows. “And do you enjoy being called Bootstrap?”

“It’s better than other names I’ve been called, miss,” Bill admits.

“Shuǐ is fine. There’s no need for any formality, and if there was, it would be on my part, not yours.”

“I suppose you’re right, miss—Shuǐ.”

She smiles at him. “We’ll work on it. So, what are you doing?”

Bill blinks at the abrupt question. “You mean with the sails? I’m just trimming them. Though it seems that there’s not much trimming that needs to be done.”

“Why is that?” Shuǐ asks.

“Um, well, we’re sailing leeward at the moment, which means we’re sailing with the wind, so the sails can stay as they are. If we were sailing windward—against the wind—we’d probably need to prepare the sails for tacking, where the ship goes from right to left instead of sailing in a straight line, so it won’t be blown off course.”

“And how would one go about doing that?”

Bill looks at her for a moment, then smiles. “Well, I could teach you, if you’d like.”

Shuǐ claps her hands together. “Brilliant. Let’s get to it, shall we?”

In one afternoon, she learns more about sailing than she has in her twenty-one years of living in Singapore, stowing away on ships, and watching her father’s men at work. Bill explains everything in enough detail for her to understand, but not so much detail that it overwhelms her mind. As he gives her tasks to try, he only assists her if she asks, which she doesn’t do often (mostly out of stubborn pride). The rest of the crew gives them sideways glances as they come back from lunch, but no one seems to have an issue with it.

Well, that’s not entirely true. One person definitely has an issue with it.

Chapter Text

When Jack comes back up to the deck after a nice long nap in his cabin, he expects Shuǐ to be in the crow’s nest, or with her friend in the galley, or waiting for him at the helm.

He does not expect her to be trimming sheets and tying down lines and speaking with Bootstrap Bill of all people. He didn’t think Bill knew how to talk to a woman other than his wife without tripping all over himself.

Reason sixty-seven he’s not sure Shuǐ is a woman. Or human. Or both.

Jack trudges up to the helm, where Barbossa is at the wheel. “Hector.”

“Jack.”

“When did–” Jack gestures at Shuǐ and Bill “–that happen?”

Barbossa looks at him. “When did what happen?”

“When did you-know-who get so cozy with Bootstrap?” Jack hisses. “And why haven’t you put a stop to it yet?”

“Ah. Well, I believe he’s teachin’ her all the things ye weren’t. And work’s gettin’ done. Good to have an extra pair of hands, isn’t it?” Barbossa asks, though there’s a slight smirk on his face that suggests ulterior motives are in play.

Jack glares at him before shouting at the crew. “Oi!”

Everyone looks up, and he waves his hand. “No, not you lot. You,” he says, pointing at Shuǐ.

Bill points at himself. “Me?”

“Not you. Next to you.”

Shuǐ stares Jack dead in the eye as she points at another crew member in Bill’s vicinity. “Oh, you know who you are. Just get up here.”

She hides her smug grin poorly as she climbs up to the helm. “Is there a problem, Captain?”

“Yes.”

“…Could you tell me what it is?”

“No. You should know what the problem is.”

Shuǐ raises her brow at him. “All I’m doing is learning crew stuff. From the crew. Like you told me to.”

Jack opens his mouth to retort, but nothing comes to mind, because he did say that, and he slowly closes it. “If that’s all, Captain, I’d like to get back to work,” Shuǐ states, clearly fighting back a laugh.

“Oh, fine. But you don’t have to look so happy about it,” he scolds.

“Aye, Captain.”

Jack watches with a scowl as Shuǐ makes her way back to Bill, who seems thoroughly confused by whatever just took place. Barbossa snorts. “Well, I suddenly like her a lot more.”

“Hands off. My apprentice,” Jack snaps.

He has to endure the rest of the day watching Shuǐ on the deck, talking, joking, and laughing with the rest of the crew—but mostly with Bill. She is picking it up quickly, thanks to both her own skill and Bill’s patience with her. Jack figured she would, which was part of the reason why he was keeping her from learning all of it. The quicker she learns, the quicker she leaves.

Though Jack realizes when he sees her sitting next to Bill at dinner, he may have forgotten to take other issues into consideration.

He doesn’t even have a plate yet, but he saunters over and stands behind them, his arms crossed. “Move.”

Shuǐ looks at him, her eyes immediately narrowing. “Excuse me?”

“You’re excused. Move over.”

“Why should I? There are plenty of other places–”

Bill clears his throat, looking as though he’d rather be anywhere else but right here right now. Shuǐ glances at him, then huffs. “Oh, fine.”

She scoots over, and Jack sits between her and Bill. “Much obliged, love.”

Shuǐ grunts in reply and goes back to eating. Jack sits there for a few minutes, still with no food, until Bill finally turns to him. “Aren’t you going to eat, Jack?”

“Of course. It’s dinnertime.”

“…Where’s your plate, then?”

Jack looks at Bill and raises his eyebrows expectantly. Bill stares back, then sighs and hands his plate over.

“For the love of—here, Bill,” Shuǐ says, standing and giving him her food. She then stomps into the galley and eventually reappears with a different plate. However, she walks straight past the table and heads for the door. “And where are you going?” Jack asks.

“Deck,” is all she responds with. The crew hears the hatch open, then slam shut. Ragetti blinks and looks around the table. “Is she coming back?”

“I doubt it,” Barbossa answers, giving Jack a look.

It’s then that he realizes the whole crew is glancing at him, and he crosses his arms again. “What? I didn’t make her leave.”

There’s a loud, sharp, “Ha!” from the galley, where Jia is cleaning up from cooking.

…

Jack doesn’t see Shuǐ again until dusk settles. He spots a lantern up in the crow’s nest, even though no one’s supposed to be stationed up there. He taps his fingers against the spokes of the Black Pearl’s wheel as he tries to think of his next move. The longer she’s mad at him, no matter the reason, the more she’ll avoid him. He needs to ease her mind somehow—hopefully, his charm will be enough. It’s a calm night, and their heading hasn’t changed, so Jack ties off the wheel and heads for the main mast.

He's barely reached a hand over the back edge of the crow’s nest when Shuǐ speaks. “You’re not very good at being stealthy, Captain.”

Jack sighs to himself, then pulls himself up to peer at her. Shuǐ’s unamused expression makes him wish he’d taken a swig of rum for courage. He takes notice of a leather-bound book with blank pages lying open on her lap and the stick of charcoal behind her ear, barely visible against her hair. “How’d you know it was me?” he questions as he climbs into the crow’s nest.

“You’re the only person still awake on this ship who’d willingly bother me,” Shuǐ states as she stands and tucks the leather-bound book into the sash around her waist. “It’s admirable, but I’m in no mood to be bothered. Good night.”

“You know, I’m beginning to think you’re upset with me for some reason,” Jack tells her, looking over as she begins her climb down to the deck.

Shuǐ looks up at him with mock surprise. “No. Really?”

“I could do without the cynicism, love.”

Her face instantly drops into a scowl again, and she scoffs as she continues her descent. Jack grabs the lantern and follows her to the deck, despite his better judgment. “For the record, I never said that I was going to be a good teacher. At the end of the day, captaining a ship comes down to something instinctive, something I won’t be able to teach you even if I try.”

“Maybe not,” Shuǐ agrees, abruptly turning to face him. “But those instincts tell you to do things that require obtained skills, things that you absolutely can teach me, instead of having me chase you around the deck like some sort of lost mutt.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re more like a lovesick puppy,” Jack assures her.

Clearly, the wrong thing to say, as Shuǐ looks for a moment like she deeply regrets not killing him the night they first met. “The root of the issue is, Captain, you haven’t been fulfilling your end of our bargain, and as a result, have deprived your crew of an extra pair of hands. So, unless you plan to remedy this somehow, I propose a new deal. I stay on your ship until I believe I’ve learned enough to captain my own, at which point Jia and I will step off at the nearest port and gather a crew so we can sail back to Singapore and steal one of my father’s best ships by ourselves. I thank you for your generosity, however misplaced it may be. But I did not leave everything I’ve ever known behind just so you could ignore me, too.”

With that, she turns on her heel and stomps to the bow, where she promptly slides down the side of the ship and buries her head in her hands. Jack stands there, stuck in place for a moment, with a strange gnawing in his chest.

Ugh, not feelings. He hates those.

It feels like guilt—but why should he be guilty? It’s not like he forced her onto the Black Pearl. He made an offer, she took it. And she should know better than to trust somebody like him.

Which is the thing. Shuǐ has no patience for his tricks, so she obviously does know better. Enough to make him feel like a proper jackass, anyway. Yet, for all her smarts, she still decided their bargain was a better deal than whatever her life in Singapore was like. And for all her frustration, she’s not turning tail to head for home—not in the way others would.

Uh-oh.

Jack taps his foot against the deck, then makes his way over to Shuǐ and cautiously sits next to her. When she doesn’t look up, he removes his hat and takes a breath. “Fine. I’ll level with you, love. No pirate is taught to be a captain. It’s just something that happens, usually because the former captain dies. Half the time, I don’t know what I’m doing any better than you do.”

“This isn’t helping,” Shuǐ interrupts, muffled by her arms.

“Let me finish. You’re not the most hopeless case I’ve ever seen. You’ve learned in a few mere hours what takes the Royal Navy’s best men months to master. I hold that I could make a fine captain out of you yet. But you need to answer me this, first—why do you want to be a pirate so badly?”

He’ll admit, she has his interest piqued. Her unwavering commitment is remarkable. Shuǐ doesn’t say anything for a moment. But eventually, she laughs bitterly and picks her head up, brushing her hair back with her hands and dislodging the charcoal behind her ear. “Why do birds fly?”

Jack’s brow furrows, bewildered by the sudden change in subject. “I don’t know. What does that have to do with anything?”

“No, I meant I don’t have a distinctive reason. I could care less about the notoriety, and if I wanted riches, I could’ve just stayed where I was.” Shuǐ pauses and looks at the bow, a distant longing in her gaze. For a moment, Jack feels a different tug in his chest—it matches the feeling in her eyes. “But for as long as I can remember, I’ve been pulled toward all this. I’ve only ever felt like myself when I’m at sea. And being told I couldn’t have it just made me want it more.”

“Hm. Good answer. Y’know, we’re kindred spirits, you and I,” Jack tells her.

Shuǐ turns to him, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, are we now?”

“Is the thought really so absurd?”

She scoffs lightly, but he catches her smile as she turns away. “Just hear me out, love. Instead of dancing around each other like a pair of fools, tell me explicitly what you want to learn from me, and that gives me somewhere to start,” Jack suggests. “Whatever you want, I’ll teach it to you, as long as we stay with our original plan of me deciding when you’re fit to captain on your own.”

This way, they’re both happy—Shuǐ is learning how to pirate, and he can keep her within arm’s reach for as long as he likes. She stares straight ahead, seemingly weighing her options. “I want to know why you give the crew orders,” she says finally. “Like why the sails need to be raised or lowered at the precise moment you tell them to be raised or lowered. Or how you know that the ship needs to stop sailing in a straight line and begin tacking. I can learn skills from the crew, but I need you to show me experience.”

Jack tries his best not to focus on the “I need you” part of that statement. “You have a deal.”

“And I want you to learn how to say my name correctly.”

“What—I do say it correctly!”

“You really don’t,” she refutes, turning so she’s sitting more on her side. “It’s not pronounced Shay, it’s Shuǐ.”

“Sway?”

“No, it sounds like Sway, but it has more of a ‘sh’ sound.”

“Shay. We’re back where we started.”

“Jack—Captain–”

“See, now it’s messing you up, too.”

Shuǐ bites back a grin and takes a breath. “Just say it slowly. Sh.”

He’s not one for criticism, but he humors her. “Sh,” Jack repeats.

“Way.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Now just put those together, and don’t pronounce the ‘ay’ so much.”

“Shway.”

“Less ‘y.’”

“Shweh. Shwah…Shuǐ.”

“Yes!” she exclaims, catching him off guard. “That was it!”

“Shuǐ?” Jack says again, still not entirely hearing the difference. “Did your mother sneeze while she was naming you?”

Shuǐ narrows her eyes slightly, though there’s an air of playfulness around it now. “No. It means water in my language.”

“You’re the daughter of a Pirate Lord. And he named you Water.”

“Oh, it’s worse than that. Most of my brothers’ names mean things like triumph or king or glory. And then there’s me. Water.”

“You have brothers?” Jack questions, mimicking her position. Now he’s intrigued. He didn’t know Sao Feng had any children, much less more than one.

“Half-brothers,” Shuǐ clarifies. “Six. Maybe a seventh on the way; who knows at this point?”

Jack makes a face, and she adds, “We all have different mothers, too.”

“Bloody hell. So, I take it they’re all part of your father’s crew, then?”

Shuǐ snorts. “Please. My eldest brothers denounce any and all acts of piracy. Bo stowed away to the mainland years ago. The only person he writes to is my second eldest brother, Qiang, but he’s on the mainland now, too. I rarely hear from either of them. Bo is a well-respected scholar, so he’s very busy dealing with political and national affairs.”

“Sounds terrible,” Jack muses.

“That’s what I told him. As for my younger brothers—well, my father has tried to give them tasks to begin their careers as pirates, but they’re all teenagers. They’re much more interested in filling their days and nights with women and drinks.”

“Yeah, that’s not something they’ll grow out of.”

“You speak from experience, I imagine?” Shuǐ asks with a slight grin.

Jack shrugs casually. “Just a fact of life, love.”

She hums in reply, then looks up at the stars. The silence between them is brief, as Jack soon asks, “So, let me get this straight—you have six brothers who could give a rat’s ass about pirating, and instead of just teaching you, someone who’s already made it your life mission to be a pirate whether he likes it or not, Sao Feng keeps popping out successors?”

Shuǐ nods. “Huh. At this rate, he’s going to die of old age before he’s able to teach any potential heirs anything,” he states, moving the lantern. “At least you have your mother, eh?”

Shuǐ visibly grimaces, and Jack shuts his mouth. “Oh. Never mind.”

“She’s not dead,” she explains quickly. “She’s just elsewhere.” Which might be worse, in her opinion.

“Elsewhere being?”

“Portugal. Or maybe France now. Somewhere in Europe, surely.”

Jack’s eyes narrow with curiosity, and he adjusts his position slightly. “Wait. Back up, if you please. I need the full story behind this.”

“It’s not that interesting,” Shuǐ admits. “All Bo and Qiang told me was that my mother was visiting Singapore from the Portuguese colonies on the mainland, and she started seeing my father. But she was all set up to marry some Navy man in France, so she couldn’t stay. I was born, she left, and that’s the end of it.”

“You’re half Portuguese?”

“I suppose. Not that it shows.”

Jack squints at her, then brings the lantern to her face and holds a hand up in front of her left eye. When he does the same with her right eye, Shuǐ warily grabs his wrist and pushes his hand back towards him. “What are you doing?”

“It does show,” Jack states. “Your right eye is a lighter shade of brown than your left.”

Shuǐ stares at him. It’s true, but it’s hardly noticeable, at least not to anyone but her. Even Jia, who’s known her since they were children, has never pointed it out—she’s probably never even realized they’re not the same color. Shuǐ always figured it was something only perceivable to her. It’s not like having European blood was something she mentioned on the daily.

And yet, here’s Jack, now rambling on about how he thought it was a trick of the light all this time, but there’s a clear difference between them. He doesn’t seem like the type to care about what color her eyes are, let alone mull over whether they’re different or not. Why has he, of all people, been the first besides her to see it? And why is she, in the cold darkness of the night, now suddenly so warm?

It must be the heat coming from the lantern.

“But other than that, you’re right, I never would’ve guessed you were half Portuguese,” Jack finishes, turning to her.

Shuǐ smiles a little. It’s then that Jack realizes how close they’ve gotten, and he clears his throat, going to stand. “Well. It’s late. You should be getting to your quarters.”

“You mean my food locker?” she corrects with a teasing tone.

“Yes, that.” Jack turns back to her and, seeing that she’s made no effort to get up, offers her his hand. Shuǐ eyes it but takes it and allows him to pull her to her feet. As she stands, she picks up his hat from where he’d placed it on the deck. Jack reaches for it—their fingers brush, just for a moment.

Shuǐ doesn’t flinch away like she usually does. Quickly, Jack takes his hat back and clears his throat, placing it on his head. “Tomorrow, we get back to work.”

“Aye, Captain,” she says as she starts making her way to the hatch. When she gets about halfway, she turns and flashes him another smile. “Good night.”

Jack squints at her in the darkness. “It’s incredible how quickly you can go from threatening my life to being completely civil with me.”

Shuǐ raises an eyebrow. “Would you prefer it if I were still upset with you? Because that can certainly be arranged.”

“No.”

“Then good night, Captain.”

Jack waits until she’s closed the hatch behind her, then murmurs, “Good night, love.”

…

“Trim the sails, men! We’re sailin’ upwind!” Gibbs shouts across the deck.

Shuǐ joins the rest of the crew in untying the halyards—that’s what the ropes connected to the sails are called, according to Bill—and lowering the smaller sails on the foremast to make it easier for the Black Pearl to begin tacking. As she starts to tie the rope off, Bill looks over her shoulder. “A bowline knot might be better in this case.”

“I am tying a bowline,” Shuǐ tells him, straightening up.

“Right, but there’s another method. Here, put the rope together in an arc. It’s called a bight.”

She gives him a puzzled look but does as he says. “Mmhm. Make a loop and pass the bight through it—good. Open up the end and use it to surround the knot you’ve created,” Bill instructs.

Shuǐ nods and pulls the knot tight. Bill looks over it, then smiles at her. “There. Now you have a doubly secure loop.”

“How many different types of knots are there?” Shuǐ questions, looking at her hands. Her palms have never been soft, thanks to her extended practice with her sword and bow, but they seem to be especially red and rough now that she’s trying her hand at sailing.

“Well, simply put, it’s probably impossible to teach you how to tie every kind of knot in five years.”

“Oh, that’s lovely.”

Bill chuckles and pats her on the shoulder. “You’ll get the hang of it quickly, I’m sure.”

Shuǐ smiles back but doesn’t get a chance to reply, as Jack yells her name from the helm. “Shuǐ!”

She turns to look at him, not seeing how the rest of the crew perks up. “Aye, Captain?”

He beckons for her to come to the wheel. “Looks like you’re off to learn captain stuff,” Bill mentions.

“Let’s hope so,” Shuǐ responds.

She swiftly makes her way to the helm and notices that Jack has a rolled-up map under his arm. “What do you need?”

“You said these dragons of yours were in the eastern and westernmost parts of the sea, yes?” Jack questions as he turns the wheel.

“That’s what the legends say.”

“Take the map and figure out where those points are.” He pauses, then looks at her. “And please tell me you know how to read a map.”

“I’m no expert, but I can get by,” Shuǐ tells him, grabbing the map and unfurling it. “Just by a simple glance, it looks like the easternmost point—the point we’d be nearest to—is right…here.”

Her finger lands on a small island that lies in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Jack leans over and hums to himself. “Kiribati.”

Shuǐ looks at him. “You’ve been there?”

“Very briefly. And I didn’t see any dragons.”

“Maybe you weren’t looking hard enough.”

“Perhaps,” Jack agrees. “In any case, it shouldn’t be a difficult trip. It’s what comes after we need to worry about.”

“What comes after?” Shuǐ asks.

It’s then that Barbossa marches up to the helm, answering her. “The Drake Passage. It’s the only way to get back to the Caribbean Sea.”

Jack nods and leans forward, resting his arms on the wheel. “Now, that’ll be an adventure.”

“A blasted miserable voyage is what it’ll be,” Barbossa gripes as he takes the map from Shuǐ. “We’ll be lucky if we don’t freeze before we’re out of it.”

“We’ll just need to stock up on supplies before we make the trip, then,” Shuǐ muses.

He looks at her and raises a brow. “With what money, lass? If I remember correctly, ye were vehemently against the idea of us takin’ anything from yer imaginary dragon.”

Shuǐ crosses her arms, showing no signs of backing down. “So we’ll loot ships on the way to Kiribati, and then loot some more on the way to the Drake Passage. If we’re responsible with what we gather, we should have more than enough to fund purchases for everything we need.”

“What was that word you just used?” Jack questions.

“Loot?”

“No, I know what loot means. The other one. The really long one.”

Shuǐ tilts her head, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Responsible?”

Jack snaps his fingers. “That’s the one. I don’t believe that’s in our vocabulary.”

She tries to give him a disapproving look but fails to hide her slight smirk. “If that’s all, Captain, I think I need to get back to learning how to tie every kind of knot in existence.”

“Good luck with that. You’ll give up after twenty; we all do.”

Shuǐ laughs and heads back to the deck. Gibbs looks at her as she comes around to do another check on the lines she secured. “That was brief.”

“He just needed me to look over something on the map,” Shuǐ tells him, tightening one of the knots.

Gibbs nods. “Y’know,” he says after a moment, “I’ve never seen the cap’n take an interest in someone the way he has with you.”

Shuǐ hums absently. “Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me.”

“If you don’t mind me sayin’, Miss Shuǐ, I believe it goes beyond your bein’ a woman.”

She pauses and turns to him, her curiosity piqued. “And why do you say that, Mister Gibbs?”

Gibbs glances at the helm, then shakes his head. “I’m afraid I may have said too much already, miss. But he gets this certain manner ‘bout him when you’re around—you’ll see what I mean soon enough.”

He moves on to approach Ragetti and Pintel (probably to tell them to stop playing catch with Ragetti’s wooden eye), and Shuǐ looks toward the helm to watch Jack and Barbossa bicker. She doesn’t quite get what Gibbs means. It seems to her that Jack’s treatment of her has had everything to do with her being a woman—although, if that’s the motivation behind it, then his almost-apology from last night doesn’t exactly line up with most conduct she gets. He was somewhat civil.

Jack notices that she’s staring at the helm and calls to her, “You need something, love?”

Shuǐ eyes him with intrigue, then smiles.

“No. Just thinking.”

Chapter Text

“What’re you doing, Miss Shuǐ?”

She stops drawing halfway through a line and looks up. The question comes from Ragetti, though Pintel appears to be listening in while he raises the sails at the mizzenmast. “Working on a sketch of the Pearl’s deck,” Shuǐ answers, turning her sketchbook around to show him. “I started it the other night.”

Pintel looks over Ragetti’s shoulder. “Looks like the view from the crow’s nest.”

“I’ve been climbing up there during breaks to get a better look at things, so I thought I might as well draw it.” Shuǐ looks around, then adds in a hushed voice, “Don’t tell Barbossa.”

“Tell Barbossa what?” Bill asks as he passes behind her.

“Nothing,” Pintel and Ragetti say in unison, but Shuǐ waves a hand at them. “We can tell Bill; I doubt he’ll have an issue with it.”

Bill gives her a bewildered look, then notices the sketchbook. “What’s that?”

“My collection of illustrations, diagrams, and other things that involve me staining my hands with charcoal,” Shuǐ says as she hands it over. “It’s mostly ships and landscapes and objects. I’m not very good at faces.”

Bill flips through it, his eyes widening. “These are all yours? They’re excellent.”

Ragetti and Pintel immediately sidle over to get a glimpse. “Well, most of them are only half-finished,” Shuǐ admits. “I have a habit of starting new sketches before the older ones are completed.”

“With this level of talent, you could’ve become a fairly wealthy artist,” Bill compliments.

She scoffs lightly, stretching her arms. “And spend the rest of my days holed up in a workshop? I’ll stick to piracy, thank you very much.”

“Besides, her commitment to art isn’t strong enough to finish a commission in the allotted amount of time,” Jia adds as she walks past with an armful of patched-up sails. “She’d never make it.”

Shuǐ glares at her but is quickly distracted by Pintel. “Y’know, miss, some of the men ‘ave been complanin’ about a lack of tattooing lately. Bootstrap here knows how to work a kit with a steady hand, but he ain’t exactly a visionary.”

When Shuǐ looks at him, Bill grins sheepishly. “I wasn’t blessed with artistic talent, it would seem. I can never get the image quite right, so the crew has stopped asking me to tattoo them.”

Shuǐ glances at the three of them, then leans back against the mast and crosses her arms thoughtfully. “I suppose if given enough guidance, I could draft a design. That way, all you would need to do is copy it correctly, Bill.”

“You think so?”

“I’d need to practice. I’m used to having a subject to look at while I draw, so this might be a little more complicated.”

“I’ve been wanting a tattoo for a while,” Ragetti mentions.

Shuǐ takes her sketchbook back from Bill and twirls her stick of charcoal between her fingers. “Then let’s start with you. What were you thinking of getting?”

Ragetti sits on the crate across from her. “Well, there was this one day a few months ago when we were on rough waters. I was watching the Jolly Roger, minding me own business. Then the ship hit a particularly harsh wave and jerked us so hard that my bloody eye fell out. So, as I was chasing it across the deck, I thought to myself—I’ve never seen a Jolly Roger with an eyepatch!”

Shuǐ stares blankly at him for a moment. “I’m sorry, what does any of that have to do with the tattoo?”

“That’s what I want. A Jolly Roger with an eyepatch. ‘Cause–”

“Yes, I understand now, please don’t take your eye out,” Shuǐ says as she guides the charcoal along the parchment. Once she’s satisfied, she turns the sketchbook around. “Like this?”

“Yeah, exactly!” Ragetti exclaims.

“You drew all that just now?” Pintel questions, looking over it.

Shuǐ shrugs. “It’s a fairly simple design. Here, Ragetti.”

She tears the page out and folds it up, then hands it to him. “Keep that on you till Bill has time to tattoo it properly. If you think of anything you want to add to it, just ask me and I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks, miss.” Ragetti stands and heads for the stern, waving the folded paper. “Oi! Lookit what Miss Shuǐ drew for me!”

While Pintel goes after him, Bill leans over to Shuǐ. “I have a feeling you’re about to get very popular.”

She hums and flips to the back of her sketchbook. “Not to worry. I brought extra sketchbooks in case I ran out of space in this one.”

“How many?”

“…How many do you think I need?”

Bill hums unsurely and strolls away. “That wasn’t an answer!” Shuǐ calls after him.

As Bill predicted, Shuǐ finds herself approached by a few more crew members while she’s bringing dirty dishes to the galley after dinner. “Miss Shuǐ?”

“Aye,” she responds, going to make her final trip.

“We, uh, we heard that you were drawin’ tattoos for the crew.”

Shuǐ turns and nods. “You could say that. I take it you’re interested?”

“Yes, Miss Shuǐ. Most of the men are.”

She tilts her head a bit and looks at the mess’s doorway. Sure enough, it seems some of the other men are peering through it, waiting for her answer. Shuǐ sighs to herself before addressing them again. “Well, I suppose I could take a few requests before Barbossa realizes you’re all missing. Line up.”

It’s actually a bit entertaining, sitting in the mess and sketching out everything and anything that’s asked of her. Some of the requests are straightforward—a doubloon or a wave or a compass. Others require a bit more detail, like a giant squid or a sword. They all come with stories behind them, and she’s more than happy to be regaled with tales while she draws, no matter how exaggerated they may be. Shuǐ has no idea how much time has passed until Jack ambles into the mess and looks at the crew with perplexity. “Is this where you lot have been for the past hour? Dinner’s over; there’s no more excitement to be had here.”

“My apologies, Captain,” Shuǐ says before anyone else can, quickly wrapping up her last sketch and standing to face him. “I asked them to stay behind.”

Jack notices her and looks her up and down, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Should’ve known. And what are you doing with my crew?” he asks suspiciously.

“Bill told me there was a lack of artistic talent on the ship and, thus, no one to design tattoos, so I took it upon myself to remedy that. Catch.”

Shuǐ tosses her sketchbook to him, and Jack nearly drops it before he opens it up. He skims through the pages and scans over each of them, eventually raising his head slightly. “Is that the Pearl?”

“It’s a work in progress,” Shuǐ admits, “but I think it’s fairly accurate.”

Jack’s gaze flickers back to her. He closes the sketchbook and walks closer to her, pushing it into her arms. “So, you’re sketching tattoos now? Why haven’t I gotten one?” he questions, and if Shuǐ didn’t know better, she might think there was some genuine offense in his tone—just the tiniest bit.

“Because it only happened today and you didn’t ask,” she answers matter-of-factly.

“If I ask, will you give me one?”

“Mm. If you ask nicely enough.”

Jack huffs quietly before seeming to remember that the rest of the crew is there, watching them. He turns to them and throws his hands up. “Hello? Back to work, all of you!”

The crew takes the hint and files out of the mess. Jack looks back at Shuǐ and pokes her sketchbook. “And you. I might take you up on that offer if you’re lucky. Go swab the deck or something.”

“Aye, Captain.”

As Jack strolls away, he calls back to her, “And fix that sketch. The Pearl has fourteen cannons on the deck, not thirteen.”

Shuǐ’s brow furrows and she flips to her most recent sketch of the deck. She did draw fourteen, she’s almost certain of it. “One, two, three, four, five…,” she counts under her breath, and sure enough: “…thirteen.”

She’d missed one. And he’d noticed. Jack is always noticing things, she realizes.

Huh.

…

Two mornings later, Shuǐ is awoken in the crow’s nest by yelling. She doesn’t remember a time when she slept for a full night, but she’s a master of dozing off—that’s not the point. The point is that the crew is shouting like the world is ending, and now she’s up and not very happy about it. She looks around, but there are no ships in view. “Hey!” Shuǐ yells down to the deck, leaning over the edge of the crow’s nest. “Mister Gibbs! What on earth is happening?”

“Thar she blows!” Gibbs shouts back. “They’re right on us!”

Well, that’s not the least bit informative. Shuǐ scans the water, looking for any explanation for the sudden ruckus. She sees a spout of mist erupt from the waves, just feet away from the hull of the Black Pearl.

Whales.

She blinks, wondering if it’s just her leftover dreariness tricking her into thinking that, but then there’s another spout of water. Shuǐ gasps excitedly. “Whales!”

In an instant, she’s dropped down to the deck as quickly as she can, and she dashes to the bow just as Jia comes up from the hold. “What’s all the commotion for?”

“Whales!” Shuǐ shouts to her.

Pintel watches as she passes him, then turns to Ragetti. “What’s she on about? We’re not anywhere near Europe.”

When Shuǐ reaches the bow, she leans over the edge until the front half of her body is precariously balanced on the taffrail. Another spout of mist comes from the waves below, and this time, she can see the whale’s blowhole. Just a moment later, a smaller whale comes up for air, lifting its tail out of the water. “They’ve got us surrounded!” Gibbs yells.

“It’s a pod,” Shuǐ mumbles, mostly to herself. She straightens up and turns around, beaming at Jia. “You have to come see this!”

“No, I’ll observe from the center of the deck, thank you very much,” Jia replies, edging closer to the main mast.

Shuǐ shrugs in a “suit yourself” manner and returns her gaze to the sea. Jia can’t help but crack a small smile as she watches her. It quickly comes to her attention that she’s not the only one who’s distracted as she catches a glimpse of Jack on the other side of the mast. Barbossa is talking to him, but his eyes are locked on Shuǐ. “Jack, are ye even listenin’ to me?”

Jack snaps out of it and gives Barbossa a look. “Of course, I am. You just said something about snails.”

“No, I didn’t.”

Jia giggles, drawing their attention. “And what’re you laughing about?” Jack asks.

“Oh, nothing. Just Shuǐ and the whales,” Jia bluffs. “She’s so funny about things like that. She’d get excited when we saw fish in the canals back home. She’s either going to be very entertaining on this trip or very frustrating, depending on where you stand.”

Jia heads back to the hatch, and Jack looks at Shuǐ again.

Shuǐ is so enthralled by the whales that she only notices his approach as he comes to stand next to her. “Captain.”

“Love,” Jack responds as he rests his arms on the taffrail. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’d never seen a whale before.”

“I’ve never seen them this close to a ship,” Shuǐ admits. “Only from the shore. They’re magnificent, aren’t they?”

Jack hums. “Blue whales? Sure. I prefer Humpbacks, myself.”

Shuǐ turns to him and props her chin up with her hand, an amused look on her face. “Oh? Why’s that?”

“Blue whale almost ate me once.”

“Really?”

“No. Just wanted to see if you’d believe that. Which you did.”

Shuǐ gets caught between a scoff and a laugh as she looks back at the whales. The pod eventually gets further and further away from the Pearl, until the spouts of mist as they come up for air are barely visible in the distance. That’s when Jack straightens up. “Well. Back to work, then.”

“Aye, Captain.”

Shuǐ starts to walk away, but Jack stops her. “One more thing, if you please, love.”

She turns around. “I think we’ve come far enough to do away with the formalities,” Jack reasons. “It’s just ‘Jack’ when it’s the two of us.”

“Somehow, I get the feeling that’s more for your benefit than mine,” Shuǐ tells him, facing him fully as she crosses her arms.

Jack blinks at her, then shrugs. “Guilty.”

“Are you going to start using my name when it’s the two of us?”

“Why would I do anything like that?”

Shuǐ eyes him for a moment more, then smiles. “Whatever you say, Jack.”

Jack watches her walk away before taking out his compass and opening it. The needle follows Shuǐ across the deck like a magnetic force, never even budging.

Jack rolls his eyes and sticks it back in his coat.

…

Bill looks at Shuǐ’s sketchbook, then shakes his head. “It should have more petals.”

“If I put any more petals on it, it won’t fit on your arm,” Shuǐ tells him, setting the charcoal down.

“I don’t want people to mistake it for a marigold.”

Shuǐ gives him a look. “I doubt that anyone who sees a dahlia on your arm is going to immediately make the wife connection.”

“She will,” Bill says, smiling to himself. “Dolly is awfully bright.”

Shuǐ rolls her eyes but smiles as well. It's refreshing to hear a man speak pleasantly about his partner. She can't remember the last time her father said anything nice about her half-brothers' mothers, and unlike her own, they were still around to dote on him. “Well, she certainly sounds wonderful. I’d love to meet her.”

Bill nods. “I think you’d get along. I feel bad, sometimes. Leaving her and our boy alone while I go off in search of adventure.”

“Think of it this way. At least you have someone to miss and somewhere to go back to,” Shuǐ tells him, refocusing on her sketch.

Bill looks at her for a moment, then leans over to look at the drawing again. “I think the petals should be slimmer.”

“Do you want to draw it?”

Bill laughs as Shuǐ hears Jack call for her. “Love!”

She turns around on her crate to see him approaching. “Aye, Captain?”

Quick as a flash, Jack unsheathes his cutlass and thrusts it at her. Shuǐ barely reacts in time and throws her sketchbook aside. She pulls out her sword to block him, falling backward off of the crate in the process. “Jack! What the hell!”

He stays on the attack, and all she can do is try and defend as she scoots backward across the deck, bumping into the legs of her crewmates. Jack knocks her sword out of her hands and raises the end of his cutlass to her face. Shuǐ tilts her head back to avoid what she assumes is an oncoming slash, but when the sword doesn’t move further, she glares at Jack and places a hand on the side of the blade to push it away. “Do you mind? I was in the middle of something.”

Jack grins and lowers the sword. “A captain always has to be prepared. You never know what might sneak up on you on the sea, so you must be ready for everything. Like me.”

Shuǐ gives him another look as she stands and dusts herself off. As she looks past him, she notices Bill watching them with a mix of confusion and amusement.

Her eyes flicker to Jack’s sword, and she smirks as she refocuses on him. If that’s his game, she might as well show him that she can play along. “Are you sure that’s the only reason you initiated an impromptu captaining lesson?”

Jack’s eyes narrow, but she swears she sees him falter. “Yes. What kind of question is that?”

“Well, if I didn’t know any better, Captain,” Shuǐ muses, trying to look as innocent as possible, “I’d say you were jealous of how much time I spend with Mister Turner.”

At that, it feels like the whole crew stops in their tracks. Bill’s eyes widen and Jack scoffs unconvincingly. “Ludicrous. Patently false.”

“Oh, is the thought really so absurd?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, love. It just seemed like a good time.”

“You do tend to interrupt whenever they’re together,” Gibbs pipes up.

Pintel nods in agreement. “Doesn’t happen when she’s workin’ with the rest of us.”

“Who asked you?” Jack retorts sarcastically, and when he turns to them, Shuǐ makes her move. First, she kicks his sword out of his hand, and when he turns again, she grabs the collar of his coat and shoves him against the ship. Before Jack can so much as process what she’s done, Shuǐ has him pinned to the taffrail. One hand is twisted in his collar and the other has one of her throwing knives poised at his neck, mere inches away.

Jack eyes it apprehensively before glancing back at Shuǐ, who grins. “Looks like you’re not as prepared as you should be, Captain.”

“Where do you keep all of those?” he questions.

She pulls the knife back and tugs him upright. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Yes, I would, that’s why I asked.”

Shuǐ just rolls her eyes—he always has to have the last word. “Well, thank you for the lesson, Captain. It was incredibly educational.”

She lets go of Jack’s collar and walks back to Bill, picking up her sketchbook. “I’ll finish this by dinner. I’m going to go work somewhere less lively.”

“Uh, yeah, alright.”

Shuǐ disappears into the hatch, and almost immediately after, Jack slumps against the side of the ship. “Jack! You alright?” Gibbs asks, rushing to his side.

He just runs a hand over his face, sighing. “Thank God there aren’t more women like her in this world. I’d never get anything done.”

Gibbs blinks, then grins. “You fancy her, after all, then?”

“Oh, shut up. Hoist the sails or something.”

Chapter Text

They’ve been on the Black Pearl for over a fortnight, and Shuǐ is proud to say that she’s found her rhythm. She swabs the deck before dawn breaks, is down in the mess just in time to pester Jia about breakfast, spends the day hopping between learning crew stuff and captain stuff, and ends it all by climbing into the crow’s nest once everyone else has gone to bed. She’s more tired than usual, she’ll be the first to admit that, but she’s managing. And she’s perfectly happy to stick to her routine.

But one morning, when the sun is barely peeping over the horizon, Jack comes on deck while she’s swabbing to trade the wheel with Gibbs. “Morning, love,” he greets with a yawn.

“Good morning,” Shuǐ replies, though she doesn’t look up until Jack says her name from the helm. “Shuǐ.”

She turns to him and nods. “Aye, Captain?”

Jack keeps one hand on the wheel and gestures at her with the other. “D’you think you’ve mastered that task?”

“Swabbing the deck?”

“Yeah.”

Shuǐ looks at her mop, then back at him. “If I’m being honest, I believe I mastered it a while ago.”

“Good. Drop the mop. Get up here,” Jack instructs.

“But I’m not finished.”

He gives her a look. “So? Get up here already.”

She blinks at him but shrugs and lets the mop clatter against the deck before approaching the helm. As she climbs the steps, Jack moves aside, not letting go of the wheel completely but leaving it open. Shuǐ gives him a curious look. “What are you doing?”

“Take it.”

“Take what?”

“What do you think, love?”

Shuǐ squints at him and her gaze drifts to the wheel. Her eyes widen when she looks back at him. “Really?”

“Every captain has to know how, eh?” Jack states. “Go on, take it.”

Shuǐ tries and fails to keep an excited smile off her face as she goes to stand in front of the Pearl’s wheel. When she places her hands on the handles, she marvels at the feel of the polished wood on her palms. Jack steps up behind her and takes her left wrist, moving her hand to another handle. “Keep one hand at the top spoke and the other on the middle spoke. It gives you more control over the ship.”

Shuǐ nods, readjusting slightly. Her grip tightens on the spokes, and Jack lightly taps her arm. “Loosen up; you’ll give yourself splinters.”

“Right, right.”

Shuǐ relaxes her hands and drops her shoulders. “There you go. Steering is all about two things: control and balance,” Jack tells her. “You need control to show the ship who’s in charge, and you need balance so you can stay in control. Which means this–”

He puts his hands on Shuǐ’s sides—which had been swaying with the motion of the ship—and holds them firmly. “–needs to stop. Plant yourself.”

Shuǐ tenses a little at the touch, but instead of jabbing her elbow into his ribcage (like she typically would to a man who dared to touch her), she turns to give him a slight glare. Jack smirks back. “What’s that look for, love?”

“You know what it’s for,” she replies, rolling her eyes as she faces forward again.

“What? All I’m doing is teaching you how to steer.”

“Mmhm, sure.”

For a few moments, Shuǐ focuses on the wheel and keeping the Pearl steady amidst the waves. Jack leans forward and rests his chin on her shoulder while his hands wrap around her waist. She’s surprised when she doesn’t get the overwhelming urge to shove him off. Half of her mind screams, “Too close!”

The other half is conflicted enough that it distracts her fight-or-flight instinct. “That horizon really is something, isn’t it?” Jack muses.

Shuǐ glances at him. “Where’s your hat?”

“Left it in the cabin.”

“Why?”

“Thought it was windier than it is. Why aren’t you saying anything about the horizon?”

“Why are you so close to me?”

“It’s cold.”

She can’t argue with that. There’s a distinct chill in the air. Shuǐ bites back a grin and looks at the horizon. “The sunrise is pretty this morning.”

“See, that wasn’t hard, now, was it?” Jack mutters, reaching for her wrist. “Turn this way with this hand. The other hand controls the rate of the turn.”

“Mmhm.”

As Jack guides her hands on the wheel, he asks, “So, when you become captain, which of your father’s ships are you planning to commandeer?”

“That’s an odd question.”

He shrugs. “Just trying to make conversation, love.”

“Hm. Probably one of the ships he built for my older brothers. It’s not like anyone else is going to use them. They’re just rotting in the shipyards right now,” Shuǐ reasons. “And they’re awfully nice.”

“Have you thought about what you’re gonna call your ship yet?” Jack inquires.

Shuǐ shakes her head. “Not at length. I’m thinking I’ll figure that out once I’ve collected a crew. I wouldn’t mind making it a collaborative effort.”

He scoffs. “Let the crew decide? Bad idea. They’ll already be put off by the idea of serving under a woman; if you give them leeway, you’ll only make it harder for yourself.”

“Well, you’re assuming there’ll be any men in my crew.”

Shuǐ feels Jack lift his head from her shoulder, and when she turns to look at him, he’s raising his brow at her. “I suppose I am,” he agrees. “So, who exactly will be in your crew?”

“Women like me, of course. Who else?”

“Women like you. Meaning?”

Shuǐ looks away as she taps her fingers against the spokes of the wheel, considering her answer. It’s a good question. “Women who feel like they don’t have any other options. Women who want more than what the world has said they can have. The ones that feel like they don’t belong where they are or need an escape. Those who have potential nobody else sees and need someone to believe in them to reach it. Women like that.”

Jack looks at her thoughtfully before sighing and putting his head on her shoulder again. “I imagine I won’t be allowed on deck, then.”

Shuǐ laughs at his pitiful expression. “I can make exceptions.”

“You’d do that for me?” Jack asks with a teasing grin, leaning in closer. “So, you like me after all.”

“Don’t get so excited,” she retorts, moving her head away in response. “You’re not the only person I’d ever make exceptions for.”

“So you say, love.”

The corners of her mouth twitch with a smile, but someone clearing their throat distracts her. Shuǐ and Jack look to see Barbossa at the base of the steps leading to the helm. He’s glaring at them, and Jack’s eyes narrow back in annoyance. “What do you want?”

“The deck’s only half-swabbed,” Barbossa points out dryly, directing his glare at Shuǐ.

“Then get someone else to swab it,” Jack shoots back. “We’re busy.”

“Busy doin’ what? Cuddlin’?”

Shuǐ turns the wheel back to its neutral place, further resisting the urge to escape from Jack’s grasp—though now it’s out of embarrassment. “He’s teaching me how to steer.”

Barbossa snorts. “Steerin’ didn’t look like that when I was taught.”

“What, a hundred years ago?” Jack counters. “This is the modern technique. And it requires focus, so git.”

As Barbossa raises a brow at him, Jia comes up from the hold. “We need to stop at a market. I’ve just used the last of our–”

She stops when she sees Jack and Shuǐ, staring at them for a moment. Then she makes a face. “Do you two mind? Some of us want to keep our appetites.”

“All I’m doing is steering the ship!” Shuǐ shoots back.

“Since when does steering look like dancing?” Jia asks, crossing her arms.

“That’s what I’m sayin’,” Barbossa agrees.

“Alright, you–” Jack points at Barbossa “–go get someone to swab the deck. And you–” he points at Jia this time “–go make a list of all the supplies you need, and we’ll make port in the next few days.”

Barbossa and Jia share a skeptical glance, and Jack glares at both of them. “Go!”

Once they finally leave, he huffs and looks back at Shuǐ. “Everyone on this ship feels obligated to share their unwanted opinions this morning, don’t they?”

When she gives Jack a similarly unamused look, he holds his hands up in surrender. “Hands off. Got it.”

Shuǐ grins a little, and then her gaze flickers to his right arm, the outline of a scar catching her eye. It doesn’t look like a typical battle wound. It has a clear shape and form to it. She squints at it, then grabs Jack’s wrist and pulls his arm towards her. “Oh, are we hands-on now?” he teases.

Shuǐ lets go of the wheel to push his sleeve up with her other hand, but Jack suddenly lunges forward. “Hey—don’t just let go of that!”

The ship leans as the wheel spins aimlessly to the left. Shuǐ clutches Jack’s shoulders to keep from losing her balance, her back hitting the wheel. Jack grips the spokes and gets the ship back on course, then gives her a look. “Next time, tie her off. If you let go of the wheel, you lose your control over the ship. Never. Let. Go.”

Shuǐ stares at him, all of a sudden very aware of how close she is to him, and of his other hand on her back, and of how she’s not all that bothered by any of it. She swiftly steps away, hitting the edge of the wheel again as she does so. “Right. Sorry.”

Jack’s hand twitches, as though he wants to pull her back to him. Instead, he puts it on the wheel, his sleeve still shoved up. Shuǐ gets a good look at his arm and as she’d thought—a scar in the shape of a “P” is burned into the skin. A pirate brand. She’d seen it before on some of her father’s men, but never this close. “Where did that come from?” Shuǐ inquires.

Jack follows her gaze and grimaces at the brand. He quickly shakes his sleeve down. “Made a stupid mistake. Got caught.”

Shuǐ takes the hint and doesn’t question further. However, her eyes don’t leave the scar, narrowing slightly as she thinks. “What’s that look for?” Jack asks.

“You might be able to cover it up,” she suggests, “with the right design.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, love.”

“You asked me to sketch a tattoo for you, remember?”

Jack gives her a look. “I believe the conversation went more like this: I inquired if I were to ask for a tattoo, would you even consider it, and you told me that I would have to ask nicely, which I haven’t done. Also, said exchange took place ages ago.”

“It was last week.”

“Right, ages.”

“Regardless,” Shuǐ continues, “I’ve some ideas that would draw attention away from the brand. If that’s what you want.”

Jack pauses, then hums thoughtfully. “Suppose I might be interested.”

She nods and looks at the sky, which is swiftly becoming a richer shade of blue. They stand there in silence for a moment until Jack glances at her. “Well?”

“Hm?”

“What are you waiting for?”

“What am I—what are you talking about?”

“The sketchbook,” Jack says, as though she’s an idiot. “Go get it.”

“Oh—you didn’t say you wanted to see them now!”

“I thought it was implied.”

Shuǐ glares at him as she makes her way to the deck. “It wasn’t.”

“Grab my hat while you’re at it!” Jack shouts to her, just before she reaches the hatch.

She scoffs to herself, but somehow can’t keep from smiling as she walks through the hatch. It seems the crew has just started to stir, most trudging to the mess for breakfast. Shuǐ dips into the food locker, grabs her sketchbook from her pack, and then (very sneakily) heads to the captain’s quarters. Jack’s hat is on the table, but as Shuǐ grabs it, she hears someone clear their throat in the doorway.

Jia is standing there with two pieces of toast, and she tilts her head. “You must be a fool if you still think he hasn’t taken an interest in you.”

“It’s a good thing I’m not a fool, then,” Shuǐ says, walking over to her. She tucks the sketchbook into the sash around her waist, puts the hat under her arm, and grabs the toast from Jia. “And aren’t you the one who told me to use that to my advantage?”

“Ha-ha,” Jia replies dryly. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

Shuǐ nudges her with her shoulder. “Of course, I do.”

Jia looks far from convinced, but she doesn’t say anything to express it. Shuǐ heads back to the deck and holds up the toast when she steps onto the helm. “Breakfast.”

Jack doesn’t look away from the horizon as he reaches out, wiggling his fingers. When he takes his first bite of his piece, his eyes narrow. “I thought I told you to grab my hat.”

“I did,” Shuǐ responds, placing the hat on her head. “Is this a good look on me?”

Jack stares at her for a moment, then places the toast between his teeth and swipes the hat from her. Shuǐ snickers and brushes the loose strands of her hair away. “Guess not.”

Jack mumbles something she can’t understand while he returns his hat to its rightful place. He takes the toast out of his mouth, then gestures at her sketchbook. “Let’s see those designs, yeah?”

“They’re not that detailed yet,” Shuǐ admits, flipping past the irrelevant sketches. “It’s mostly doodles.”

“Anything goes,” Jack states. “Do I look like an art critic to you?”

“That rarely stops people from giving feedback. Here we are.”

She finally finds one of her more recent pages. This one is dotted with various drawings of birds, wings, and feathers—with some other miscellaneous items scattered about. Jack leans over to get a better look and squints at the page. “I was drawing them from memory, so they’re probably not completely accurate,” Shuǐ tells him. “Though I doubt anyone will notice.”

“Why is it all birds?” Jack questions.

“They’re sparrows.”

“…Ah. Like my–”

“Like your name, yeah.” She might’ve been better off throwing the whole book overboard, come to think of it.

Jack nods and points at one drawing in the far corner of the page. “I like that one. With the feathers around the sword.”

Shuǐ glances at him, but he seems to be speaking sincerely. “You do?”

“I mean, I think it could do with some gore, but it’s alright.”

A slight smile tugs at her lips. “Noted. Is blood splatter on the sword good?” Shuǐ asks.

Jack leans in more, grinning. “It’s like you read my mind, love.”

“Cap’n!”

Gibbs calls to Jack from the deck, and he groans before answering. “Busy! Go away!”

“I’m afraid I can’t, Cap’n. Barbossa’s lookin’ for you—somethin’ about our munitions,” Gibbs discloses while the rest of the crew starts their morning tasks.

Jack sighs and looks at Shuǐ. “Take the wheel. I’ll be back for you.”

“Aye, Jack,” she replies as he passes her.

As they head for the hatch, Gibbs gives her a knowing look. Shuǐ pretends not to see it, fixing her gaze on the horizon. It’s not like she needs the rest of the crew to tell her that Jack has eyes for her. He’s rather brash about it.

She wonders, though, how long it’ll take them to figure out that she’s becoming just as interested in him.

…

“I still think you should join us on deck tonight,” she tells Jia as she picks up the remaining platters of food.

Jia gives Shuǐ a look, wiping her hands down with a towel. “And I still think I should’ve stayed in Singapore, but you don’t see me jumping overboard.”

“Come on, please? Just for a little while?” Shuǐ requests. “Pintel said the crew is playing games tonight.”

“So? They’re probably gambling. I’ll pass.”

Shuǐ purses her lips, her eyes following Jia across the galley as she cleans up. Finally, Jia sighs and turns to her. “I will eat on deck. I won’t promise you any more than that.”

“You mean it?” Shuǐ asks brightly.

“Oh, hush,” Jia gripes as she takes one of the platters. “You say that like you gave me a choice.”

“It goes over better when you think you have one.”

When they get to the deck, the crew is sitting in a circle around a collection of crates that form a makeshift table, where Shuǐ sets the last two platters of food. “Alright, that’s the last of it. Jia, pull up a barrel.”

“Are you joining us, Miss Jia?” Ragetti asks her.

Jia looks pointedly at Shuǐ. “For a little while.”

Shuǐ simply smiles innocently as she sits next to Bill—directly across from Jack, as usual. “Well, I knew the crew would want to thank you for the wonderful meals you’ve been preparing.”

She elbows Bill as she’s talking, and he coughs. “Yes, thank you, Miss Jia.”

Jack holds up a bottle of rum. “A toast to Miss Jia, the greatest pirate cook to ever live!”

There’s a scattered reprise from the rest of the crew, and Shuǐ can’t help but notice Jia’s poorly restrained smile. “Well—you’re welcome. I suppose cooking for you all hasn’t been the worst it could be.”

Shuǐ grins at her before being distracted by Jack. “Oi, love.”

When she turns to him, he shakes the bottle in his hand. “Want a drink?”

“That’s right. Two weeks on the Pearl, and neither of you have had a drop of rum,” Gibbs notes.

Pintel shakes his head solemnly. “That’s bad luck, that is.”

Shuǐ eyes the bottle for a moment, then shrugs. She’s never had a drink before, but what could be the harm in one sip? “Oh, alright, I figure it’s about time. Hand it over.”

“Atta girl,” Jack says with a grin, passing it over. “Just give it back once you’re done, ey?”

“You’ve got it.”

Shuǐ mentally braces herself and takes a swig of the rum. It’s not bad—she thought it’d be bitter, or that it would taste overtly of alcohol, but it has a rather sweet undertone. She gets it down without difficulty, then notices the crew is awaiting her reaction. “Hm.”

“What d’you mean, ‘hm?’” Pintel questions as she passes the rum back to Jack.

“I mean, it’s fine. It’s not the best drink I’ve ever had, but it’s not bad,” she ponders. “Jia, you should try it.”

Jia makes a face. “Don’t push your luck.”

“Really! It’s not any worse than that bitter tea your mother likes.”

The rest of the crew stares at Shuǐ, but Jack just snorts. “As I’ve said before, you are a strange creature. Now, what’s the game of the evening? Did you lot decide yet?”

“Aye, Captain,” Ragetti answers excitedly. “We’re playing Question or Command.”

“Question or Command?” Shuǐ and Jia ask in unison.

Bill turns to Shuǐ. “You’ve heard of it?”

The two look at each other, and Jia nods. “We used to play Question or Command with other girls at home—when we were younger, of course.”

“Do you remember when Yijun made poor Hua jump into that pile of fertilizer in her best robes?” Shuǐ recalls, trying not to laugh at the memory. “Her mother was furious!”

“Playing that game with Yijun was never fun,” Jia agrees. “You just knew you were going to be humiliated by the end of the night, one way or another.”

“Looks like we all know the rules, then,” Jack interjects before turning to the helm. “Hector, why don’t you tie down the wheel and join us?”

In the lanternlight, Shuǐ can see Barbossa frown. “No.”

Jack harrumphs, turning back to the group. “Curmudgeon. Who’s going first?”

The crew glances at each other as they silently eat. Jack looks further annoyed at the lack of enthusiasm, so Shuǐ takes one for the team and addresses him. “Captain.”

They all perk up at that. “Aye, love?” Jack replies, especially intrigued.

“Question or command?”

He barely takes a moment to think about it. “Command.”

Shuǐ taps her foot against the deck—she’s never been good at coming up with commands right off the bat. She can tell Jia is thinking the same thing, given her slight scoff. “I command you…” She pauses as her eyes land on the rum. “…to drink that whole bottle. Right now.”

The crew oohs at the task, but Jack smirks. “You think that’s a challenge, love?”

“I guess we’ll find out,” Shuǐ responds coolly.

Gibbs starts to chant, “Chug, chug, chug,” and the others join in. Jack obliges—it appears to be an easy feat for him. He sets the empty bottle down and flashes Shuǐ a triumphant smile as he wipes his mouth on his sleeve. “Surprised?”

“Not particularly,” she admits. She turns to Bill, nudging him with her knee. “Your turn.”

“Oh—that’s alright, I don’t really want to go yet.”

“Too bad. It’s your turn.”

The first round is tedious, which is to be expected. The game needs more confidence—and drinking—involved to get to the true thrill of it all. When it eventually comes back to Bill, he turns to Shuǐ. “Miss Shuǐ, question or command?”

“Question.”

“Uh…how did you and Miss Jia meet?”

The crew groans at such a tame question. Shuǐ, however, straightens up and smiles. “We were—what, nine or ten years old? I saved her from drowning.”

The crew looks on with awe, but Jia snorts. “I wouldn’t call it saving me,” she corrects. “It was the dead of winter. You nearly drowned, yourself. If it hadn’t been for Bo–”

“But it was my running off that led Bo to where you were in desperate need of rescuing,” Shuǐ retorts with a slight glare.

“Wait,” Ragetti pipes up then, and they turn to him. “So, you’re not sisters?”

Shuǐ looks at Jia and shrugs. “Well, yes and no.”

“Shuǐ thinks that a shared near-death experience bonded us for life,” Jia explains to the confused faces. “She likes to say that we’re sisters in everything but name and blood.”

“Because we are!”

“Not for the next five years, we’re not.”

Shuǐ gives Jia a look, and the game continues, coming to Ragetti. “Miss Jia, question or command?”

She sighs. “Question, please.”

Ragetti glances nervously at Shuǐ, then asks, in a hushed voice, “Is Miss Shuǐ actually a woman? Or is she some kind of supernatural being sent to keep an eye on us?”

Jia looks at him like he’s lost his mind, then turns to Shuǐ. She simply raises her brows, waiting expectantly for her answer. “Well, as far as I know, there’s nothing supernatural about her,” Jia says finally.

Some of the men grumble that that’s not exactly an answer, but there’s no time to complain because soon enough, it’s Jia’s turn. “Shuǐ.”

Shuǐ straightens up. “Jia.”

“Question or command?”

“Hm. I think I’ll go with command.”

“Hey, you haven’t picked command when the rest of us have asked!” Pintel realizes.

“Yes, there’s a reason for that,” Shuǐ responds dryly before looking at Jia again. “Well?”

Jia is the safer bet when it comes to picking commands. She’s just as bad at picking truly salacious commands as Shuǐ is, though that’s due to a lack of a desire to be cruel, rather than a lack of imagination. And yet, Shuǐ feels herself growing suspicious of the sudden eagerness in Jia’s eyes—especially when her gaze flickers to Jack.

Jia smiles coyly. “I command you to sit on the captain’s lap for the rest of the game.”

“What?” Shuǐ and Jack ask in unison, with very different tones. The rest of the crew hollers with laughter, and Jia sits back on her crate, looking awfully pleased with herself. Sneaky; Shuǐ didn’t know she had that in her. She’s almost proud.

Still, she waits for the excitement to die down and crosses her arms. She might as well try to push back. “I don’t know. That puts the captain in an uncomfortable position; I doubt he–”

“I’m fine with it,” Jack interjects quickly (probably too quickly, judging by the way the rest of the crew looks at him). “What? Just because I’m captain doesn’t mean we should twist the rules for me.”

“But every time we play cards, you say–” Bill starts to say, clamming up when Jack glares at him.

Shuǐ pretends to consider it for a moment more, then sets her cleared plate down and stands, stretching. She’s far from the type to back down from a challenge. If Jack gets too handsy, she can always break his wrist. “Alright then, if I must. Serves me right for trusting someone who’s mad at me for the next five years.”

Jack grins as she walks over to him, holding out his hand. When Shuǐ takes it, he tugs her down onto him. For a moment, she’s glad he was all over her this morning—now this closeness is slightly familiar. “Hello, love. Miss me?”

“I’ve been with you all day,” Shuǐ points out as she braces her other hand on his shoulder to get settled. “If you’re still that eager to have me, I think it’s the other way around.”

“What can I say? I’m a simple man with simple needs,” Jack tells her, going to drape his hands around her waist.

Shuǐ brings her leg around before he can, blocking his path. She readjusts so she’s sitting across his legs, rather than straddling him. Jack gives her a look as she rests her elbow on his shoulder, and she smirks back. “Wanted to see the game.”

“Spoilsport,” he mutters, though he manages to snake an arm around her anyway.

With that, the game continues. Shuǐ feigns interest as questions and commands get tossed amongst the crew, acting as if her mind isn’t wholly tuned in on how Jack’s fingers are tapping absentmindedly against her hip, or on keeping her breathing even whenever he shifts and pulls her impossibly nearer to him.

It is sort of comforting, in a strange way. She typically doesn’t get so physically close to people, especially men, for obvious reasons. But the air is cold, and he’s warm. And that warmth is spreading to her. Or maybe that’s the rum working through her system. Shuǐ finds herself leaning into Jack, which he takes as a sign to rest his other hand just above her knee. She makes the mistake of glancing at him, only to see him already looking at her, almost in an assessing way.

“Shuǐ.”

Jia’s voice breaks her focus, and Shuǐ turns to her. “What?”

“It’s your turn.”

“Is it?”

Jia gives her a look. “Honestly, do we need to separate you two? We’ve skipped the captain twice now.”

“You have?” Jack asks, sounding somewhat offended.

“Oh, Shuǐ, just go.”

Shuǐ hums, thinking it over for a moment. She does have a question she’d like answered. “Jack, question or command?”

He looks at her and grins. “Well, I’d like to savor the rest of my rum for the night, so let’s do a question.”

“How does your compass work?”

His grin disappears immediately. “It points north,” Jack answers bluntly. “Like every compass.”

“I’ve held your compass. It’s never pointed north for me,” Shuǐ retorts.

“Well, it points north on a good day. Next.”

Shuǐ narrows her eyes at him slightly but relents and leans back again as the game is passed to the next person. “You’re a terrible liar,” she whispers.

“I’m an excellent liar,” Jack mutters back.

Shuǐ grins to herself. The game goes on, but she finds her interest waning. While the moon passes overhead, her eyes miraculously start to droop, and she has to work to stifle one or two yawns. It doesn’t help that Jack’s hand—the one that was previously around her waist—has now taken to twirling a stray strand of her hair around his finger. Her head lowers onto Jack’s shoulder just as Pintel asks, “Miss Shuǐ, question or command?”

Shuǐ grumbles as she closes her eyes, “Question.”

“If you had to pick between kissin’ the cap’n or Bootstrap–”

“Jack,” she cuts him off without thinking. “Bill’s got a wife.”

“Well, if he didn’t–”

Shuǐ opens her eyes enough to glare at him. “You only get one question.”

“She’s right,” Bill says quickly, the lanterns illuminating the redness of his face. “Next.”

Shuǐ huffs and closes her eyes again, completely oblivious to Jack’s wide smirk. When the chatter resumes, he tilts his head closer to hers. “I would take you up on that.”

“Shame you’ll never get the chance,” she answers drowsily.

“We’ll see. I’ve been told I’m irresistible.”

Shuǐ doesn’t get a chance to counter before she dozes off.

…

Around half past midnight, Barbossa finally ties off the wheel and comes down to the deck. “Alright, you rumpots, get below deck. We’re nearin’ the witching hour.”

The crew starts to loudly voice their objections. Jack notices Shuǐ’s head turn a bit and he puts his hands over her ears. “Shut it!” he hisses to the others.

The complaints cease immediately. When Shuǐ’s head droops back onto his shoulder, Jack sighs and gestures to her. “She’s sleeping. Have some bloody decorum.”

Jia, who had started collecting the cleared food platters with Bill, whips around at that. A bewildered look crosses her face when she sees Shuǐ fast asleep in Jack’s lap. Barbossa rolls his eyes. “So? She’s got to turn in, too. Wake her up.”

“No, if you do that, she’ll never get back to sleep,” Jia refutes, now fixing him with a stern look. “It’s a wonder she’s resting in the first place. Leaving her alone is for the best.”

“Except she’s sleepin’ on the captain,” Barbossa points out. “What would you have him do? Stay up here all night?”

“That’s exactly what I plan to do, actually,” Jack interrupts.

Barbossa and Jia turn to him. Jack shrugs. “Well, not the whole night. I expect she’ll wake up before the sunrise, as per usual. I was planning to stay up a while longer, anyways.”

Barbossa raises an eyebrow at him, but Jack gives him a “please don’t ruin this for me” look, and he chooses not to argue. “Whatever you say, Jack.”

The rest of the crew except for Jia marches away at that, some giving Jack curious looks. Once most of them are out of earshot, Jia glares at Jack. “If you do anything to her, I will starve you.”

Jack briefly holds his hands up in surrender. Jia leaves, and he looks at Shuǐ as she shifts in her sleep. “For what it’s worth, you’re much more threatening than she is.”

Shuǐ exhales slowly, her breathing becoming more rhythmic as she settles back into a deeper sleep. Jack watches her falling and rising chest with fascination. A few weeks ago, she never would have let herself be this close to him, game or not. Now she’s curled against him like a devoted pet. Him. How thoughtless has she become?

Shuǐ stirs again, and Jack feels his heart skip a beat. But she only moves her head to rest more in the crook of his neck. Jack stays painfully still until her body relaxes again, and once he’s certain that she’s not awake, he lays his chin on top of her head.

How thoughtless indeed.

Chapter Text

Shuǐ is absolutely bewildered when she wakes up on the floor of the food locker.

She’s twice as perplexed when she sits up and Jack’s coat falls off her shoulders.

And she’s entirely caught off guard when she sees that Jia’s woken up before her because that means the sun must be up.

This much confusion requires an immediate explanation, which is not what Shuǐ gets when she walks into the galley. Jia is already halfway through making breakfast. She barely spares Shuǐ a glance. “I see you have a new coat.”

“It’s not mine,” Shuǐ retorts, Jack’s coat tucked under her arm. “How long was I out?”

Jia hums as she stirs a pot of soup. “I admit, I’m not entirely sure. If you didn’t wake up while you were with the captain–”

“With the captain?”

“Mmhm. He stayed on deck with you after the game ended while the rest of us came down here.”

“Why?”

“Because you were asleep. You didn’t drink last night, did you?”

Shuǐ shakes her head, running a hand over her face. “No. I mean, there was that one sip of rum, but I doubt that did anything. Still, I feel tired and refreshed at the same time. I’m not sure I like it.”

“Yes, well, that’s what happens when you get a proper amount of sleep,” Jia tells her. “I’d be careful if I were you. Now that you’re well-rested, it’ll be twice as hard to function with only a few hours of sleep.”

“…So, I dozed off. And I stayed asleep. On deck.”

“On the captain.”

“I don’t need specifics. If that’s the case, how did I get in the food locker?”

Jia gives her an annoyed look while she makes two plates. “How am I supposed to know? I didn’t hear anything last night.”

“That’s because you sleep like the dead,” Shuǐ jokes.

“The way I see it,” Jia interjects, holding up the plates, “if you want answers, you should talk to Sparrow.”

Shuǐ eyes the plates, then sighs and takes them. “Might as well. I have to give his coat back, anyways.”

“His coat?”

“Yeah. Why did you say it like that?”

Jia raises her brows as if Shuǐ should be realizing something obvious. She’s not, though, so she just stares back and shrugs. “What?”

“Oh, never mind. Just go.”

Shuǐ gives Jia one last confused look before heading for the captain’s quarters. Her hands are occupied with the plates, so when she gets to the door, she bumps it lightly with her foot.

When there’s no response, she knocks her knee into it. The door swings open seconds later, and Jack gripes as he rubs his eyes, “What does a man have to do for some decent—oh, it’s you.”

“We should talk,” Shuǐ says as she hands over his plate.

“I don’t talk to anyone before breakfast. See you on deck,” he replies, going to close the door.

She blocks it with her leg and slips inside the cabin, kicking the door shut behind her. Jack stares at her for a moment, then gestures to the room. “Why, yes, you may come in.”

There are maps with fresh ink marks on them strewn about on the table. Shuǐ eyes them curiously as she drapes the coat on the back of the chair. “Late night?”

“Early morning,” Jack corrects, taking a bite out of the pastries Jia made for breakfast. “You?”

“I woke up very puzzled,” Shuǐ admits while she traces the lines of one map with her finger, “since I was certain I’d fallen asleep on the deck, and I woke up below it.”

Jack rests his arms on the back of his chair and leans over as well. “Well, I was under the impression that you only sleep for moments at a time. This was a very long moment, and my back was starting to cramp.”

Shuǐ looks at him and raises an eyebrow. “And you seem completely unbothered that I was sleeping on you.”

“Yeah, so what? You were tired. You fell asleep,” Jack says casually, though she catches his slight smirk.

“Except that I don’t sleep.”

“But you did.”

“I don’t sleep through the night.”

“And yet, here we are.” Jack leans in further and grins. “Seems like one of us is reading a little too much into this, love, and for once it’s not me.”

Shuǐ gives him a look and turns back to the maps. She’ll let him have this win—it’s not worth debating him. “What are you charting, anyways?”

Jack moves to stand behind her. “Trading routes. There are plenty of merchant ships that pass through these waters. Luckily, we’ll be coming across a few in the next couple of days.”

“Luckily for us,” Shuǐ corrects. “I’m sure the merchants won’t be pleased.”

“You’re right about that,” he agrees. “It’s not always a treat for us, though. If we raid a ship that has nothing but crops on board, it’s a waste of everyone’s time.”

“How do you tell, then?” she asks. “Which ships are a waste of time, and which aren’t?”

Jack hums and taps the drawn lines on the map. “Flags and a knowledge of exports. Anything flying an East India Trading Company flag is usually worth the time—even if there’s nothing of worth on board, you’ve pissed them off, and that always makes my day. Ships from the Orient are notoriously hard to judge. If they’re coming from their home countries, they likely have some precious metals hidden away, but if they’re not, all they’re carrying is spices, which we have to trade off ourselves if we want to make a profit—and if you think I didn’t notice you reaching for the compass, you’re wrong.”

Despite being caught, Shuǐ grabs the compass from its place on the table and flips it open. “I don’t understand why you’d keep a compass that doesn’t work.”

“It does work,” Jack refutes, watching the needle swing from center to left, where he’s standing. “It just doesn’t work all the time.”

“Still, why not invest in a compass that does?” Shuǐ questions as she shakes the compass slightly.

Jack doesn’t reply. Instead, he leans closer and puts his hand under Shuǐ’s so that they’re both holding the compass. She gives him a curious look. “What are you doing?”

“Experimenting,” he mumbles. The needle of the compass arcs from left to right before finally pointing straight ahead again. “Ah, there we go.”

Shuǐ squints at the needle. “What did you do?”

“I believe I just solved our problem. The compass needs two people to hold it for it to work properly,” Jack explains, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” she points out.

He closes the compass and takes it back, grinning slyly. “Rarely anything does, love. I’ll see you on deck, aye?”

Shuǐ gives him a look as he makes his way to the door. “I’m going to figure out how that compass works.”

“Please, do,” Jack encourages. “I’m sure I’ll find it very entertaining.”

With that, he heads for the hatch. Shuǐ watches him and scoffs appreciatively, then looks at the maps again. As she traces the ink-drawn lines, her brow furrows.

There are no stolen charts from the trading companies here that would have provided a guide for these courses. They’ve been sketched from memory.

How exactly does Jack know what routes these trading ships will take?

…

Jia is right—for the next few days, Shuǐ struggles to fall back into her usual rhythm. She’s twice as tired when she wakes up from her naps in the crow’s nest, but she’s managed to keep the rest of the crew from noticing, so far. Thankfully, her newest task doesn’t require a lot of energy. She takes any chance she can to steer the Black Pearl, and usually, she won’t move from the helm until ordered to.

But today, Jia walks up to the helm with a serious look on her face. Shuǐ immediately notices that her hair is in a loose braid—Jia never wears her hair down unless she’s sleeping. “What’s up with you?”

“I want you to cut my hair,” Jia tells her.

Shuǐ raises an eyebrow. “Very funny. Did you lose a bet? You don’t have to listen to them; I’ll settle your tab.”

Jia frowns and crosses her arms, clearly waiting for something else. “Wait, really?” Shuǐ asks, turning to face her fully while keeping one hand on the wheel. “I thought you said–”

“I know what I said; I’ve changed my mind,” Jia admits. “I’ve waited years to be rid of all this, so let’s just get it over with, alright?”

Shuǐ beams, then shouts across the deck. “Mister Gibbs! Mind taking the wheel for a moment?”

“Might I inquire as to why, Miss Shuǐ?” Gibbs asks as he comes up the steps.

“I need to get something to cut Jia’s hair with. I shouldn’t be long.”

Jia gives her a bewildered look as she trots down to the deck. “Don’t you have a knife on hand?”

Shuǐ looks at her with a mischievous smile. Jia stares at her, then glares. “You’d better not be cutting my hair with your sword.”

“Oh, I have a much better idea.”

And so, after collecting her bow and quiver, finding a spare piece of plywood in the hold, and rounding up a few of the men to help them out, Shuǐ nocks her bow and smiles at Jia. “Ready?”

“I don’t know why I ask you for help with anything,” Jia mutters, eyeing the arrow nervously.

“Well, you’re already mad at me for the next five years. I might as well get away with what I can.” Shuǐ nods at Bill, who’s holding the other end of Jia’s braid. “Remember, don’t pull it too tight.”

Ragetti pokes his head out from behind the board as Bill holds the braid against it. “And you’re sure the arrow won’t hit me, Miss Shuǐ?”

“It shouldn’t. If I aim it right.”

Jia sighs heavily. “Oh, gods, have mercy on us.”

Shuǐ draws the bow, her eyes narrowing as she focuses. As she adjusts her aim, she hears Barbossa’s voice boom out from behind. “Listen up, ye bilge-sucking curs, the captain says—what are ye doin’, Miss Sao?”

“Target practice,” Shuǐ answers as she lets the arrow fly.

It pins Jia’s braid to the plywood with a dull thunk, and Jia yelps. When she tries to pull away, she finds herself unable to. “Shuǐ! It didn’t work!”

“It worked; it just didn’t cut all the way through,” Shuǐ responds. She walks over and slips a knife out of her sleeve, quickly sawing through the rest of the braid. “There we go.”

Jia swiftly straightens up and runs her fingers back through her now shoulder-length hair. “Target practice? Really?”

Shuǐ shrugs. “Well, I don’t want to get out of form.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to use me as–” Jia cuts herself off as she catches sight of her reflection in the silver platter Pintel is holding. She runs her fingers through her hair again and tilts her head thoughtfully. If her mother could see her now, she would faint from the shock. Jia, on the other hand, looks perfectly happy with the results.

Shuǐ sidles up behind her, grinning. “You stopped yelling at me. I take that as a good sign.”

Jia glances back at her and hums as she picks at the ends of her hair. “I suppose it’ll do for now. Next time I ask you to cut my hair, just do it like a normal person, please.”

“If you insist.”

Barbossa harshly clears his throat, catching their attention. “Have ye finished yet?”

“We have. What’s going on?” Jia asks, still fussing with her hair.

He points toward the bow, beyond the ship. Shuǐ leans over the edge of the taffrail and sees it—on the edge of the horizon, she can make out a mast. “It’s another ship. Do we know whose?”

“We’re not close enough to see the colors yet,” Barbossa replies. “Accordin’ to Jack, it could be one of the East India Trading Company’s vessels.”

Shuǐ turns to him. “And how does Jack know the East India Trading Company’s routes, again?”

Barbossa completely ignores her and turns to the rest of the crew. “Get a move on, scalawags! Gunners, take posts and await the captain’s orders!”

“For what?” Jia questions.

“What do you think?” Pintel retorts as he tosses the silver platter aside. “We’re gonna take it!”

Jia looks at Shuǐ with wide eyes. She jerks her head toward the hatch. “Get below deck. Don’t come back up until I come to retrieve you,” Shuǐ orders.

“Gladly,” Jia agrees.

With her taken care of, Shuǐ heads for the crow’s nest. However, she barely gets to place a hand on the ratline before Barbossa grabs it, glaring at her. “Where d’you think you’re goin’, Miss Sao?”

Shuǐ pulls it back. “Guess.”

“Ye should wait for the captain’s permission before ye go off by yerself.”

Shuǐ gives him an annoyed look, but then she sees Jack coming from the hatch. “Jack!”

He looks up from loading his pistol. “Permission to–”

“Granted,” Jack responds quickly before addressing Barbossa. “Hector, leave the girl alone! We have more pressing matters at hand!”

Barbossa rolls his eyes and follows Jack, leaving Shuǐ to climb to the crow’s nest. She swings her legs over the edge and leans her bow against the side. This is the best vantage point on the ship, perfect for archery, and if she can manage to stay out of sight, it’ll be even better—she’ll have the element of surprise.

Shuǐ crouches and waits for the sound of cannon fire to signal the start of their attack. But as they’re closing in on the merchant ship, Gibbs yells, “Cap’n! They’re strikin’ the colors!”

She peers over the top of the crow’s nest. Sure enough, the flags on the pursued vessel are being lowered. Shuǐ’s eyes narrow slightly before she climbs back down to the deck. Jack, Barbossa, and Gibbs are standing at the bow, and as she approaches them, she hears Barbossa mutter, “Surrenderin’ already. Cowards.”

Jack puts his spyglass down. “Makes it easier for us. At least they have some sense.”

“Maybe too much sense,” Shuǐ muses, stepping up next to him. “They didn’t even try to escape.”

“That’s because the Black Pearl is the fastest ship in these seas, love,” Jack says proudly. “They couldn’t outrun her in a million years.”

Shuǐ looks at him and raises an eyebrow. “Do they know that?”

He stares back and shrugs vaguely. “Who’s to say?”

“Precisely. If you don’t mind, I’ll stay posted in the crow’s nest. Something doesn’t feel right here.”

“You think it’s a setup?” Gibbs questions.

“I think we’re better safe than sorry,” Shuǐ replies as she walks back to the main mast. She waits for Jack to object, but he doesn’t—perhaps he feels the same, beneath his bravado.

And so, despite the bewildered looks she gets from her crewmates, she hunkers down again, keeping watch from the crow’s nest like a hawk. Shuǐ preemptively nocks an arrow in her bow when the Black Pearl finally sails up next to the merchant ship. The traders look awfully resolute for men who are about to be boarded by pirates, and it only makes her grip on her bow tighten.

Barbossa orders, “Get the gangplank!” while Jack approaches the taffrail and addresses the crew of the merchant ship. “Terribly sorry for the inconvenience, lads. I’m sure you’re on a tight schedule, so let’s make this easy for all of us—hand over everything and anything of value, and we won’t send you to the depths.”

Shuǐ watches the man closest to the front of the group turn his head up. “You’re the captain of this fine vessel?” he asks Jack.

“Aye.”

Then she sees it—the slightest movement; one of the men reaching behind his back. “Watch out!” Shuǐ yells as she draws back and lets the arrow fly.

The arrow hits the merchant in the shoulder. He cries out and drops the pistol he’d reached for. Jack was in the motion of grabbing his own when Shuǐ struck, and he fires a round, shouting, “Hector! Gangplank!”

Shuǐ nocks her bow again while the fight devolves into chaos. Members of both crews end up on opposing ships, and the decks become filled with the clashing and clanging of swords. Shuǐ finds herself releasing arrows at a pace she’s rarely had to use. When her quiver is left empty, she gets down to the deck as swiftly as she can.

She ducks to avoid an oncoming slash and drops to the deck, sweeping her attacker’s feet. As she stands, she kicks him in the head, then draws her sword and heads for the center of the fight. The rest of the crew is making quick work of the less-capable merchants. While she battles her way across the deck, she hears a fierce clattering behind her and whips around in time to see Jack hitting one of the merchants on the head with the butt of his cutlass. Shuǐ gives him a brief nod of thanks before parrying the thrust of another sword.

Her opponent lunges at her again. Shuǐ holds her ground and blocks his slash, then retaliates by trying to feint and sweep his blade out of his hands. She’s just the slightest bit too slow, though, and her opponent manages to counter. Shuǐ jerks back and avoids the worst of it, but she feels the skin on her right cheek split, warm droplets of blood forming at the surface of the cut.

She hunches forward as though she’s in terrible pain. Her opponent laughs, and the boards of the deck squeak as he steps toward her. “If you know what’s good for you, girlie, you’ll yield!”

Her sword comes at him before he can process it, knocking his blade out of his hand. Shuǐ slashes at the man’s leg, and once he’s on the ground, she straightens up and puts the edge of her sword to his neck. “You yield,” she counters.

The man stares at her in disbelief, as if he’s calling her bluff. Shuǐ hums to herself. “Have it your way.”

“Wait, wait! I yield!” he shouts as her sword digs into his neck.

“That’s what I thought.”

Gibbs and Pintel come to collect the man, at which point Shuǐ steps away, running her thumb over her cheek and frowning when it comes away smeared with blood. As she wipes her hand on her clothes, she hears Jack over her shoulder. “You’ve got something there.”

“I noticed,” she replies dryly, turning to give him a look. “It’s shallow, though. Shouldn’t take very long to heal.”

Jack nods and turns to watch as the crew finishes restraining their living opponents. “For the record, I knew it was a trap,” he tells her after a moment.

Shuǐ refrains from snorting. “Oh, yes. Of course.”

“I did. You just had the quicker shot.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less of you, Captain.” Shuǐ pats Jack on the shoulder before heading to the hatch. “I have to go tell Jia the fight’s over. Don’t start looting without me.”

As she expects, the door to the food locker is barricaded—likely with sacks of grains. When Shuǐ knocks, she doesn’t get a response. “Jia, it’s me.”

“Who’s ‘me?’” Jia asks accusingly on the other side of the door.

“Jia, would a stranger know your name? Open the door.”

There’s a pause, then the sound of something scraping against the wooden floor, and finally, Jia opens up, her eyes darting about the hold. “Is it over? I didn’t hear any cannons.”

“We didn’t need them,” Shuǐ says. “Seriously, we need to get you a sword.”

Jia glares at her but doesn’t seem as averse to the idea as usual. “And...the deck is clear?”

“We’re taking hostages. There’s been no brutalizing yet.”

“And what happened to your face?”

Shuǐ runs a finger over the cut again. This time, it doesn’t come away with red staining it. “Nothing that hasn’t happened before. Can we head back up yet? All the interesting stuff is going to be gone.”

“Oh, fine, let’s go,” Jia grumbles, waving her off. “What are we expecting to find, anyway?”

“Money, jewels, expensive things,” Shuǐ lists as they walk. “You know, treasure.”

“Hm. What we really need is more food.”

“Well, that’s what the money is for.”

When they get to the deck, Shuǐ makes a beeline for Jack and comes to stand next to him. “Now, gents—and ladies. Here’s the plan. According to Miss Jia, we need a number of food supplies. Luckily, we will be coming to a harbor in the next day or so,” Jack announces. “There, we will be able to restock and ransom off our hostages. But to ensure we have enough money left, Miss Jia needs to budget—whatever that means. So, do cooperate with her while we’re taking inventory of our prizes, savvy?”

The crew choruses, “Aye, Captain!” Jack turns to Jia and gestures for her to speak. “Miss Jia, anything to add?”

“Oh. No, I think that just about covered it,” Jia admits.

“Excellent. Love, come with me.”

Shuǐ looks at Jia, then follows Jack across the gangplank onto the deck of the commandeered ship. “What about the others?” she asks as she glances back at the rest of the crew again.

“Captain gets first pick of the wealth,” Jack responds. “They’ll come along soon and sort through the rest of it. For us, there’s only one place worth looking for truly precious treasure on a ship.”

“Where would that be?”

Jack looks at her and grins. “Where a captain keeps all his secrets, of course. Where else?”

Shuǐ perks up. The captain’s quarters. It’s certainly the most logical place to start.

And as they head for the stern, she can’t help but feel strangely honored that he’s brought her along.

That feeling swiftly fades after they’ve upturned the whole cabin with zero worthwhile findings. Shuǐ rifles through the scattered papers on the ground that Jack is throwing out of the desk that he’s raiding for the third time. Finally, she sets them down. “Still nothing of interest. It’s all receipts and reports. There might be something to point us in the direction of another ship with more valuable cargo–”

Jack shakes his head, and she cuts herself off. “There must be something more here,” he mutters as he throws out the last stack of papers. “There always is, with them.”

“Merchants?” Shuǐ questions with a skeptical look.

“No, the East India Trading Company. I don’t believe for a moment that there’s not something hidden away on this ship. Their kind is always looking for a new way to seize power.”

Shuǐ stands and walks to the dresser in the corner of the room, absentmindedly opening the now-empty drawers. “It feels like we’ve gone through everything, though. Maybe we’re looking in the wrong place.”

Jack suddenly shushes her. She fixes him with a surprised glare. “Don’t shush me while I’m trying to help you!”

“You’ll help by keeping quiet for a moment,” he retorts as he comes to stand next to her. “Open that drawer again.”

Shuǐ huffs, still not pleased by the sharp order, but she does as he says. Then, she hears it, too—the faint sound of something small rolling around in the drawer. Jack feels around but comes away with nothing. “Don’t suppose you have one of those knives on you.”

Shuǐ reaches into her tunic and pulls out one of her daggers. Jack grins at her, then takes the whole drawer out of the dresser. “Let’s see what secrets are hiding in here.”

He clears the papers and charts off the desk. Once Jack sets the drawer down, Shuǐ gets to work prying the bottom board up. It doesn’t take much to get it to give—it must’ve been removed fairly recently. When they lift the board out of the drawer, a false bottom is revealed.

Inside lies a pearl, but it’s no ordinary pearl. It has a rich golden color and a shine that seems to glimmer in the light. Shuǐ picks it up and lets it rest in her palm—it’s a touch bigger than a large marble and has a comfortable weight, though it feels awfully dense. “I’ve never seen a pearl like this,” she muses, turning it to see how it reflects in the sun. “It’s so polished and even.”

Jack hums in agreement as he watches her inspect it. Shuǐ finally looks at him and offers it to him, but he pushes her hand back. “You keep it. It’s too dull for me.”

“Dull?” she repeats, caught somewhere between disbelief and amusement. “It’s beautiful. We could at least try to sell it, couldn’t we?”

“Do you want to sell it?”

“I mean, I wouldn’t part with it happily, but–”

“Great. You like it, you keep it,” Jack states, turning to head for the door before she can question him further. “Anyway, seems you’re right. No secrets of world domination hiding here. Let’s go see what the crew has found.”

Shuǐ watches him for a moment, still rolling the pearl between her fingers. He’d gone to all that trouble to find something of value, and yet he gave it up to her so easily. He can be awfully contradictory sometimes.

She tosses the pearl up and clasps it firmly in her fist, then follows Jack.

Later, once the commandeered ship is cleared out and the Black Pearl is on course again, Shuǐ sneaks away from the deck. She heads down to the food locker and finds her spare stash of rawhide bowstrings—she’d brought extra to repair her bow, should it get broken in battle. Right now, though, her spare bowstrings will serve a different purpose.

Shuǐ cuts the needed amount of bowstring into varying lengths, then rolls her sleeves up and begins weaving the first part of the bowstring around the pearl she and Jack had found. It takes patience and some raveling and unraveling, but she eventually secures the pearl in the rawhide. She ties the string off, leaving a small bowline knot at the top. Finally, she takes the longer strand of the bowstring and passes it through the loop. It’s nothing impressive, but it seems like the best way to keep the pearl close and secure.

Before Shuǐ can tie the makeshift necklace around her neck, there’s a knock at the door. “Shuǐ, dinner!” Jia calls to her from the other side.

“One moment,” she replies, stuffing the necklace into the inner part of her tunic. She puts the rest of her spare bowstrings away and heads to the mess, where she’s instantly bombarded by questions and jokes about where she’s been for the last hour or so. “I didn’t know we could even get her off the deck!” is popular, as well as “Maybe Cap’n pissed her off again.”

Shuǐ brushes them off with her own jests and pretends not to feel the weight in her inner pocket.

Chapter Text

“You are comin’ drinking with us, right, Miss Shuǐ?”

It’s the question that the rest of the crew asks her as they approach the harbor, and Shuǐ gives very non-committal answers every time. Jia has already expressed how she’d rather starve the rest of them than wander the marketplace alone at dusk (hint, hint). It seems like that task will take up most of the evening. So, unless Shuǐ can find someone else to help Jia, she’s booked.

“I wouldn’t feel too bad about that,” Bill tells her while they prepare the Black Pearl for docking. The harbor is visible on the horizon now, and it grows closer with every passing moment. “Drinking isn’t exactly the sport they all make it out to be.”

“It’s not the drinking I was looking forward to,” Shuǐ replies, tugging back on a rope and lowering the trysail. “It was the outing itself. Bars are fun without the rum, aren’t they?”

Bill shrugs. “Well, for some people, sure. But this lot is all about the rum—most of the patrons there will be. If you get lucky, there might be gambling or music or something, but more often than not, these jaunts of ours end in argument and injury. Not to mention everyone is miserable in the morning.”

She fixes him with a curious look as she ties off the rope. “You sound like you’re not looking forward to it.”

“I think you have the better deal is all, Miss Shuǐ.”

“Then it’s settled. You’ll go with Jia to the market, and I’ll go to the bar in your stead.”

“Sorry, what?”

Shuǐ straightens up and pats him on the shoulder with a bright smile. “She’s mad at me for the next five years, so I’m sure she won’t mind. You’ll probably be of better assistance anyway. Now, speaking of outings, I should at least change for mine. Thank you for your counsel.”

Bill looks thoroughly confused, but he nods. “Uh, of course, anytime.”

Once she’s double-checked all her knots, Shuǐ heads down to the food locker to swap out clothes. She trades her sleeveless tunic for a looser, shorter-length long-sleeved blouse, and as she’s tying the sash that keeps it in place, there’s a knock at the door. “Come in,” she calls out, pretty sure she already knows who it is.

Jia bursts in with a stern look. “You’re not going to the market with me?”

“That was quick,” Shuǐ snorts, digging around in her bag for a hairpin. “Bill didn’t seem all that interested in going to the bar with the others, so I gave him an out. He’ll be much more useful than me, anyway, don’t you think?”

There’s a pause, and then a huff. “I suppose that’s true,” Jia agrees. “You look nice.”

Shuǐ gives her a slight grin. “You sound surprised.”

“Well, you have been wearing the same set of clothes for the last several days.”

“Hence the freshening up. And on that note…”

Shuǐ straightens up and brandishes a jade hairpin and her makeshift necklace. “Didn’t we bring a mirror on from the other ship yesterday? Where did we put it?”

Jia brushes a strand of her now-short hair behind her ear. It looks as though she’s chopped off a few extra inches since Shuǐ saw her last—the length lies just past her chin. “I can’t recall. I’m sure the captain knows.”

“Good point,” Shuǐ replies, walking past her and preparing to head for the captain’s quarters. Then she stops and turns back to Jia. “I don’t suppose you would help me with my hair.”

“No. You’re not off the hook for abandoning me to go drinking.”

“Noted. Don’t be mean to Bill.”

Jia rolls her eyes, but Shuǐ catches her smile before she turns away. When she reaches the captain’s quarters, the door is wide open, and Jack is nowhere to be seen. But sure enough, there’s a full-length mirror leaning against the wall.

Shuǐ looks around before stepping inside. She clasps the strings of her necklace between her teeth and puts the hairpin behind her ear as she walks up to it. With her hands free, she starts to collect her hair, smoothing the stray strands back and preparing to twist it into a new updo.

Since the mirror is pointed at the door, she sees Jack before she hears him. “You ever heard of trespassing, love? It’s a serious offense.”

Shuǐ smiles as he approaches her and hums in response, the necklace still clenched between her lips. “I have no idea what you just said,” Jack says, coming to stand behind her.

Shuǐ finishes putting her hair up, securing it with the hairpin, and takes the necklace out of her mouth. “I said I needed a mirror. And that you’re one to talk; I’m really only here because you trespassed on my father’s property. Twice.”

“Three times, technically,” Jack corrects while she struggles to tie the ends of the necklace together. After a moment, Shuǐ feels his hands cover hers. “May I?”

Shuǐ glances at him and lets him take the ends of the necklace. His fingertips brush the back of her neck as he ties it swiftly, with the skill of an experienced sailor. Jack runs his hands down her arms once he’s done so. “There we go. There’ll be eyes coveting you all night.”

“As long as it’s just eyes, I’ll manage. If hands get involved, I can’t promise I’ll behave,” Shuǐ warns, only half-joking.

“That makes two of us, then,” Jack replies. He steps away, and when Shuǐ turns to face him, he’s holding his arm out. “Shall we?”

Shuǐ grins and takes it. “Two of us?”

“Love, what kind of captain would I be if I let any slack-jawed, scurvy-ridden whelp try and steal you away?”

“You don’t need to worry about that. I doubt any offer in the world could shake me from the Pearl.”

Jack chuckles as they reach the deck. “And here I thought you only tolerated us.”

“Quite the opposite. I find you all rather amusing,” Shuǐ states. “Of course, that may change by the end of the night.”

“Oh, yes. You’re in for it, I’m afraid.”

Shuǐ smiles again. They meet up with the rest of the crew on the dock, and Jack immediately begins rattling off orders. “Alright, let’s review: Miss Jia is off to purchase supplies and rations–”

“With Mister Turner,” Jia adds.

“With Bootstrap, yes. That means you lot–” Jack gestures vaguely to the rest of the crew “–are in charge of ransoming the hostages. You know what to do.”

As the crew starts to break off into groups, each taking a different hostage from their raid the previous day, Jack turns to Shuǐ. “Now, an impromptu captaining lesson for you, love—where d’you think we’ll have the most luck doing business?”

“In a place like this?” Shuǐ asks, looking around at the decrepit storefronts and structures facing out toward the sea. They certainly aren’t in the mainstream part of the port. “A tavern.”

“Right you are. Shouldn’t waste any time, then, should we?”

Barbossa is waiting for them at the end of the dock. As the three begin walking through the harbor and Shuǐ finds her head swiveling to try and take everything in, he says to her, “I wouldn’t stray far if I were ye, Miss Sao. This is no place for a woman to lose her bearings.”

Shuǐ gives him a look. “I thank you for your unexpected concern, Barbossa, but I can handle myself. Singapore isn’t exactly the safest place in the world, you know, and I managed just fine there.”

“Yer name had significance in Singapore,” Barbossa points out. “But Sao Feng's influence only reaches so far. Keep yerself out of trouble, for all our sakes.”

“Well, someone clearly needs a drink,” Shuǐ mutters to Jack as Barbossa breaks away to approach a seller.

Jack hums to himself. “Can’t say I disagree with him, love.”

Shuǐ unhooks her arm from his and crosses them, one hand coming up to toy with her makeshift necklace. “Even if I did get myself into trouble here, I could get myself out of it just as quickly.”

“Mm, you never know. What I’ve found in my extensive years of voyaging is that every time you think you’ve already been in the most harrowing situation the world can muster, there’s always some hellion ready to prove you wrong.”

A figure suddenly lurches out in front of them. Shuǐ goes for her sword as Jack grabs her waist and pulls her out of the cloaked person’s path. “Jewelry for the pretty lady?” the stranger rasps, holding up a necklace with human molars strung on it. “They’re genuine!”

“We’ll pass, mate,” Jack replies as Shuǐ makes a face. He lowers his voice once they’ve walked around the stranger and are out of earshot. “See what I mean?”

“Why would anyone want something like that?” she asks with a slight shudder.

“Says the one who threatened to gut half my crew like fish if they didn’t stop complaining about her no longer swabbing the deck.”

“And I would. I just don’t find most body parts decorative.”

“Then let’s get out of the streets before someone tries to sell you earrings made of toes.”

They swiftly catch up with Barbossa, who’s staring at a wooden sign hanging above a nearby door. “The Kind Seagull,” Jack reads before looking at the other two. “All the good names must’ve been taken.”

“Must have. Everyone knows seagulls are assholes,” Shuǐ agrees.

Barbossa opens the door, and they’re immediately hit by a wall of noise. Glasses breaking, drunken shouting and cheering, and the clanging of tankards against each other (or against other people) fill Shuǐ’s ears. The patrons inside the bar are either fighting, flirting, or sleeping—maybe worse. Barbossa turns to her and smirks, gesturing inside. “Ladies first.”

Shuǐ smiles wryly back and crosses through the doorway. Thankfully, the activity and ruckus mask the trio’s entrance, and Shuǐ makes her way over to the bar mostly unnoticed. “We’ll take three glasses of your finest rum, please,” she tells the bartender.

The bartender barely glances at her. “We’re out of our finest rum.”

“Then we’ll take three glasses of your second-finest rum,” Jack interjects, placing three shillings down on the bar.

The bartender eyes the coins and grabs them. “Always lead with money in unfamiliar territory,” Jack whispers to Shuǐ as the bartender walks away. “You’ll have better luck.”

Shuǐ nods, then catches a flurry of movement in the corner of her eye. “Would you mind taking two steps back?”

Jack gives her a bewildered look but does so. Shuǐ reaches behind her and grips the collar of the drunk who’d been gearing up to grope her, then yanks him down harshly, slamming his head into the edge of the bar. He drops to the ground, his face bloodied.

Shuǐ shakes her hands off, then notices the looks that Jack and Barbossa are giving her. “I suppose I should’ve led with money just then, too?” she questions.

Jack opens his mouth to answer, then swiftly shakes his head. “No, I’d say you handled that just fine. Hector?”

“Sure, except we’ll have to run his mates off now,” Barbossa mutters, eyeing three other men who’d drug their now unconscious friend back to a table.

Shuǐ looks at them and puts a hand on the hilt of her sword. “I can take care of that.”

“Down, love,” Jack chuckles. “You’ll get us thrown out before we’ve had anything to drink.”

As if on cue, the bartender sets down three tankards of rum right when the pervert’s entourage starts staring daggers at Shuǐ. She’s getting ready to show them what real daggers look like when Barbossa chugs the entirety of his rum and slams the tankard down. “Allow me. I’ll teach ‘em some manners.”

Shuǐ slips the knife back into the sash around her waist and gestures for him to go ahead. “Reckon I could get anyone to wager against him?” Jack asks her as Barbossa steps up to the table.

“You could certainly try,” she replies, taking a sip of her rum. “I’d do it quickly, though. I doubt the fight will last long.”

“Be a doll and grab us some good seats, then, will you?”

Shuǐ looks at him and sighs. “Fine. But if another idiot tries to make a pass on me, I really will gut him like a fish.”

Jack grins, tapping their tankards together. “I’ll be sure to spread the word.”

And so, while Jack goes off to place bets, Shuǐ navigates her way through the brawling, cackling crowd. As she passes Barbossa, she shouts to him, “How goes it?”

“How does it look?” he retorts, slamming one man down into a chair.

She shrugs and leans against a nearby empty table. “Looks like you’re doing rather well, actually.”

Barbossa reels back and punches another charging drunkard in the chin. He looks back at her with a grimace. “I don’t suppose ye’d be inclined to assist at all.”

“No, I’m supposed to be keeping myself out of trouble. But I’ll sit in the back and be your emotional support,” Shuǐ says as she grabs a spare chair and pulls it over to the table.

He rolls his eyes at her before getting back to the fight. As she predicted, it’s over rather quickly. Once Barbossa has helped the bartender kick the carousers out, he turns to the rest of the patrons and loudly proclaims, “Next round is on me!”

The bar is filled with cheers, and Shuǐ smiles over the rim of her tankard. While Barbossa is getting everyone drinks, Jack slides into the chair next to Shuǐ and proudly holds up a pouch of what she assumes are coins. “Our winnings.”

“Look at that. You didn’t gamble our money away, after all,” she teases.

“Oh, I didn’t gamble at all, love,” he replies.

Shuǐ’s smile drops slightly, and then she leans back with a sigh. “Right. I should’ve expected that.”

Jack grins at her as Barbossa approaches with three new tankards of rum. “One of ye is takin’ care of the next foul-smellin’ halfwit that decides to start a fight,” he tells them as he sits down.

Shuǐ pulls one tankard toward herself, even though she hasn’t finished her first drink. “You make it sound like a chore. I quite enjoy a good fight.”

“It’s not exactly a good fight when your opponents are so drunk they can barely stand,” Jack muses, reaching for Shuǐ’s second drink. “Are you gonna–”

“Yes, I am,” she retorts as she lightly smacks his hand. “I’m pacing myself.”

Jack shakes his hand off and gives Shuǐ a look. “Why would you do that?”

“Well, at least one of us should still be mildly sober when we head back for the Pearl, don’t you think?”

Jack raises an eyebrow, then looks at Barbossa. “You’re hearing this, right?”

“I wish I wasn’t,” he mutters.

Shuǐ laughs a little as the tavern door bursts open. Gibbs pushes through the crowd to their table, looking rushed. “Done with the hostages already?” Jack asks. “That was quick.”

“Not in the slightest. We found some sorry buyers willin’ to pay a hefty price, but they’re gettin’ a bit testy,” Gibbs tells him. “Don’t believe they’ve ever made a dealin’ like this before. They said they’d need to talk to you before they made a hard decision.”

Jack groans with annoyance but prepares to stand. “Fine. But I’m bringing the rum with me.”

“No need,” Barbossa says, getting to his feet and passing Jack’s second tankard of rum to Gibbs. “I’ll handle this.”

Shuǐ raises an eyebrow at him. “I thought you were done cleaning up messes for the night.”

“Demandin’ the captain’s presence is bad form,” he responds, and that’s all the explanation they get. When Gibbs opens his mouth, probably to make a similar comment, Barbossa gives him a look and jerks his head at Jack and Shuǐ. Gibbs glances at them and seems to suddenly understand, giving them a brief nod before following Barbossa out of the tavern.

Bewildered, Jack sits back down. “What was that all about?”

“Who knows? They’re your crew,” Shuǐ points out as she takes another sip of rum. “Is selling hostages always such a chore?”

“Not when you find decent buyers. So, yes, most of the time it’s a chore.”

She smiles and rests her chin in her hand. “I figured as much.”

The two fall silent while the rest of the bar keeps buzzing with energy. It’s then, listening to the chatter, that Shuǐ realizes she doesn’t know what to discuss with Jack away from the ship. She’s managed to worm some personal details from the other crew members about their lives—Bill and his wife, Gibbs and his on-again, off-again service with the Navy—but for Jack, she’s completely clueless. He’s captain of the Black Pearl, sure, but what else is he? There must be more.

None the wiser to her musings, Jack taps his fingers against the table, then leans back, crossing his arms. “So, what d’you suppose we do now? Start another barfight?”

“Or we could talk,” Shuǐ suggests. “I think that’s the safer option if we don’t want to be kicked out.”

“Eh, there are always other bars. Besides, we talk all the time.”

“Yes, but that’s just captain stuff and crew stuff. I meant we could talk about other things.”

“Other things being?”

Shuǐ hums absentmindedly, picking at a loose strand of her hair. “Oh, you know. Like how your compass really works. Or how you seem to have an absurd amount of knowledge about the East India Trading Company’s export and import routes.”

“I’ll take the barfight,” Jack replies, scooting his chair out.

“Oh, come on. That’s not fair and you know it. I’ve given you my whole family tree, and I don’t even know how old you are,” Shuǐ jokes as she grabs Jack’s sleeve to stop him.

He looks back at her. “I don’t know how old you are.”

“I’m twenty-one.”

“…Twenty-four.”

Shuǐ grins. “See? That wasn’t so difficult, was it?”

“Just to be clear, then, that’s a no on the barfight?”

“Jack.”

“Oh, alright,” he gripes as he stands. “But if we’re going to talk, let’s do it somewhere quieter. I can barely hear myself think in here. And I’m not telling you either of the other two things you asked about.”

“Fair enough,” Shuǐ agrees, keeping pace with him as they slip out the back of the tavern into an abandoned alley with crates and barrels of alcohol lining the wall. She’s just happy she’s won. “In that case, you start.”

Jack sits down on a barrel and gives her a look. “I don’t want to start. You start.”

“You already know what I’m going to ask,” she says before sitting on the crate next to him.

“…What’s your favorite sea animal?”

Shuǐ smiles. It’s a placating question, she knows that, but she answers seriously. “It’s a draw between whales and sharks. More so whales, I think, since I don’t see them that often.”

“Why sharks at all?” Jack questions, almost incredulously. “Sharks are vicious. And they eat people.”

“Not the sharks in Singapore,” Shuǐ tells him. “The ones I’ve swam with tend to keep to themselves.”

Jack shakes his head. “Still, sharks? There are other creatures out there that are twice as interesting without as many teeth. Like manatees.”

Shuǐ pauses halfway through a sip of rum. “What’s a manatee?”

“Y’know, big grey potato-shaped beast with flippers?”

“That’s a dugong.”

“A du—you just made that word up.”

“I assure you, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did. It’s called a manatee.”

“It’s a dugong.”

Jack holds his hands up in surrender. “Agree to disagree, love. Though speaking of sea creatures, I’m curious. Of all the undiscovered treasures in the world, why’d you have us go after a dragon?”

“Mm. Having second thoughts already?” Shuǐ asks.

“Depends on what you say next.”

Shuǐ leans back against another barrel, crossing her arms thoughtfully. She might as well tell him the truth. “Well, every voyage my father has ever set out on has had the underlying goal of reaching one. His crew has made it to the furthest points a few times, but they’ve never made any worthwhile discoveries. Not to my knowledge, at least.” Shuǐ looks at Jack and grins. “When you weren’t getting anywhere with your proposal, I thought to myself, what better way to prove I was meant to be a pirate than to beat Sao Feng to the one treasure he’s sought after for years?”

“That is quite diabolical,” Jack states, and she can’t help but brighten at the praise. “We still need to figure out what we’re doing once we find the creature.”

“I thought we had. We’re taking something like a scale or a claw to prove we were there, aren’t we?” Shuǐ questions.

Jack looks at her. “And how are we supposed to do that, exactly?”

She stares back blankly, then leans forward with a huff. “I’m working on it. In all the stories I’ve heard, the hide of a dragon is impenetrable. Brute force won’t work. We’ll need a different route; something more passive.”

“Could put it to sleep somehow,” Jack agrees. “It’s just the scales that are the issue, though, right? The underbelly might be vulnerable.”

“Well, not that it matters, because we’re absolutely not killing it–”

“No, of course not. All hypotheticals here.”

Shuǐ narrows her eyes sternly before continuing. “Even if that was the case, I doubt any of us would have the speed to pull something like that off.”

“I dunno. You’re pretty quick with that bow of yours,” Jack notes. “I think you’d be quicker with one of these.”

He pulls his pistol out from his belt. Shuǐ eyes it and scoffs lightly. “Thank you, but I’ll pass.”

“Really?” Jack asks, sounding more intrigued than surprised. “What d’you have against guns?”

“I don’t–” Shuǐ pauses, then adjusts her answer. “I find them impractical. And primitive.”

Jack raises an eyebrow. “Your bow and arrow are primitive. This is modern technology.”

“That’s not what I mean. There’s an art to sword fighting and knives and archery. There’s no art to pointing a pistol at someone and shooting it.”

“Maybe not. But it’s awfully nice to have on hand when you need it.”

“And when would that be, Jack? When would a pistol be a worthy alternative to any of my other weapons?”

Jack looks at Shuǐ for a moment and straightens up. “You’re in the middle of a raid. No bow and arrow; you’ve run out. Just a sword and however many knives you have on you at any given time. Your opponent has a pistol.”

“I cut his hand off and kick the pistol away,” Shuǐ answers.

“He has another pistol. Bang, you’re dead.”

“…I cut both his hands off.”

“He knocks your sword away. Now you don’t have a sword and there’s another bloke with a pistol.”

“I throw a knife into his neck.”

“He has just enough coordination to pull the trigger. Bang, you’re dead.”

“I throw a knife at his hand.”

“It hits the pistol and triggers it on its own. You’re dead.”

“I—well–!”

“Took too long. Dead.”

Shuǐ glares at him. “And what would you do in that situation, Captain?”

The words are barely out of her mouth before she’s staring down the barrel of his pistol. Shuǐ flinches, just slightly. “There’s a lot that even the suggestion of being shot can do to a man, love,” Jack reasons.

“I’m not a man,” Shuǐ points out as she gingerly pushes the pistol away.

Jack nods and puts it back into his coat. “Right you are. But you will be fighting loads of them. So, I’m adding shooting lessons to your list of captain stuff. If you haven’t had good reason to fire a pistol by the time we’re out of the Drake Passage, you can drop them.”

Shuǐ purses her lips. “That’s months from now.”

“You’ll need to learn how to shoot before you decide what’s worth shooting at,” Jack tells her.

She hums indifferently in reply and looks at her tankard, swirling the rum inside around. Then Shuǐ perks up. There’s her opening. “Who taught you to shoot, then?”

Jack looks at her. “I thought I was asking questions.”

“Yes, and you’ve asked several. It’s my turn.”

“Fair enough. My father taught me.”

“Hm. Is he a pirate, too?” Shuǐ asks.

Jack nods. “He is. Piracy is sort of the family business for us, same as you. Hell, even my grandmama is a pirate.”

“Really?” Shuǐ questions, leaning in. “So, did you grow up on a ship, or–”

He suddenly straightens up, and Shuǐ cuts herself off. “D’you hear that?” Jack asks.

She does, actually. Someone nearby is plucking the strings of a lute—not very successfully. The notes are jarring and out of tune, but Jack lights up like an orchestra has begun to play. “I love this song.”

“This is a song?” Shuǐ murmurs, mostly to herself. She goes to take another sip of rum, then looks up and realizes that Jack is standing in front of her with his hand outstretched. “What are you doing?”

He gives her a look. “What does it look like, love?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I asked.”

“Well, I have no idea how they do it in Singapore, but on my side of the world, this is a pretty standard gesture for asking someone to dance.”

Shuǐ glances at Jack’s hand, then back at him. “I don’t dance.”

He chuckles. “Don’t be ridiculous; everyone dances. We’ve danced before.”

“When?”

“In Singapore.”

Shuǐ raises an eyebrow. “That wasn’t dancing. That was us trying to kill each other.”

“Both have a rhythm, don’t they?” Jack points out.

“Then let me rephrase. I can’t dance. I’d probably end up stepping on your feet.”

“I can’t dance, either. Not like the namby-pamby rich folk, anyway. Better to dance with someone on your level, don’t you agree?”

Shuǐ looks at Jack while she thinks it over. He has a point. It’s not like there’s any harm in it. No one else is around to bear witness—no one she cares about. And besides, Jack has seen what she’s capable of. She doubts he’ll try anything stupid.

Shuǐ relents, holding back a smile as she takes his hand. “Something tells me I should’ve drank a little bit more tonight.”

“We’ll work on that next time,” Jack assures her. He pulls her to him, leading her in a spin before placing his other hand on her waist. She’s surprised when she doesn’t tense. She truly hasn’t danced before, not like this, with a partner. But he’s right—it is a bit like sword-fighting. When he steps forward, she steps back, and that keeps the balance. He’s the only guide she has, given the melody of the lute keeps shifting in pitch, rhythm, and clarity.

Shuǐ carefully watches her feet to make sure she’s doing it right, only looking up when Jack speaks again. “You’re nervous.”

She scoffs. “I am not nervous.”

Jack raises an eyebrow and moves his thumb across her palm. “I can feel your pulse. You’re absolutely nervous.”

“Well, you would be nervous, too, if your first time dancing was to a song that doesn’t even have a steady tune,” Shuǐ retorts before she accidentally steps on the edge of his boot. “Sorry.”

“You’re alright. I think it’s rather charming,” Jack says.

Shuǐ gives him a puzzled look. “Charming that I’m nervous, or charming that I just stepped on your foot?”

Jack shrugs vaguely. “Both, you could say. Makes me think you might be human, after all.”

He spins her again, but this time, he steps away from her. When Jack pulls Shuǐ into him, she ends up with her back against his chest. She stiffens for a moment, but when all he does is rest his hand on her hip again, she relaxes. “Does the crew really think I’m some kind of witch?” she asks.

Jack chuckles. She feels his chest rise and fall. “Mm, not so much a witch as a mystic observer. They mostly think if they try anything with you, you’ll smite them.”

“I suppose that’s not entirely inaccurate,” Shuǐ muses. “And you?”

“I haven’t made up my mind,” Jack discloses. “Either way, though, I’m led to believe that you favor me over the rest of them.”

Shuǐ tilts her head slightly as she looks back at him. They’re close, almost cheek-to-cheek, but she’s too engrossed in their discussion to care. Or so she tells herself. “That’s an awfully bold assumption.”

“So it is, love.”

“And what evidence is it founded on?”

Jack grins. “You made quite a mess out of that drunken prat earlier. He hadn’t even laid a hand on you yet.”

“So?” Shuǐ asks.

“Well, I’d be the first to admit that my behavior toward you could be described as ‘touchy.’”

Shuǐ’s brow furrows for a moment, and when his hand slides up her waist, she realizes what he’s getting at. She turns around so they’re back where they started. “That’s different. I know you.”

Now it’s Jack’s turn to scoff as he pulls her back in. “You didn’t know my age until a little while ago.”

“I knew you couldn’t be much older than me,” Shuǐ points out.

“I’m just saying, you’ve never broken my nose for having my hands on you before.”

“I can change that.”

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

“Then stop talking.”

Jack complies, though it’s clear from the lingering smirk on his face that he thinks he’s won. Shuǐ can’t let that stand, and so she states, “I could say the same about you, you know. That you favor me over the rest of the crew.”

“You certainly could,” Jack agrees dismissively. “But you already know why that is.”

“I’m not sure I do,” Shuǐ muses, feigning innocence as both her hands rest on his shoulders. “After all, Jia’s on the ship, too, and if you were giving us the same treatment, she would’ve come complaining to me about it.”

Jack’s grin falters the closer she gets to him. “Maybe she’s not my type. Have you ever thought about that?”

“Of course, I have. But there’s nothing you can do to stop the crew from talking,” Shuǐ continues. Her arms are almost completely draped around his neck now. “And since most of them have known you longer than I have, I’m inclined to believe what I overhear in mixed company.”

“The crew has no idea what they’re talking about,” Jack refutes.

“So, you bring every woman you take a liking to aboard your ship as part of the crew, then?”

“…No.”

Shuǐ grins. “Looks like I’m special after all.”

Jack blinks, as though breaking from her spell, then rolls his eyes. “Fine, maybe I favor you over the crew for reasons other than the obvious one. What does it matter?”

“It doesn’t,” Shuǐ states. “I’m simply proving a point.”

“Are you always so blasé about everything?”

“I don’t know what that means.”

Jack harrumphs. At that point, Shuǐ realizes she’s gotten just a little too close to him. She can see the annoyance in his eyes, mixed with what she would dare to call admiration. She can smell the rum on his breath as his eyes flicker down to her lips. The intention is both clouded and clear. Maybe she did drink a bit too much, because she doesn’t pull away.

But before she can make yet another bad decision, there’s gunfire from the other end of the alley.

Chapter Text

Shuǐ immediately ducks, taking Jack down with her. However, when no more shots ring out, Jack raises his head and scowls. “What’s your problem, mate?”

Shuǐ follows his gaze and sees a burly man with his pistol raised in the air. He must have fired the round to get their attention—for what reason, she can’t say. She just hopes Jack hasn’t noticed her shaking. “You the bloke that was goin’ around taking bets earlier?” the man asks as he approaches.

“And what if I am?” Jack retorts, helping Shuǐ to her feet before crossing his arms.

The burly man sneers. “Then I’m gonna break all the bones in your body for stealing from me.”

Jack blinks, then clears his throat. “Right, sorry, you just missed the guy who was taking bets. Pretty sure he went that way, aren’t we, love?”

Shuǐ, clocking the situation, plays along. “Yes. He was in quite a hurry, too. You’ll have to move quickly if you want to catch up to him.”

“Do I look like an idiot?” the burly man seethes.

Shuǐ and Jack share a glance, and the man barks, “Just give me back my money!”

“We don’t have your money,” Jack bluntly lies. “And even if we did, why would we give it back?”

“Because I’ll shoot you if you don’t!”

“Mm, but who’s to say you won’t shoot me if I do? Then I’m shot no matter what. Might as well be shot and have some extra coinage.”

There’s a slight clattering noise from behind them. Shuǐ whips around, and her eyes narrow when she catches movement and the flash of steel in the lamplight before it disappears around the corner. “Jack, we should go,” she says, putting a hand on the hilt of her sword.

“Yeah, I’m almost done here,” he replies.

Shuǐ gives him a look and just barely jerks her head toward the back of the alley. “Well, you need to be done now.”

The burly man snorts. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist, laced mutton. You’ll have your chance with him after I’ve gotten my money back.”

Jack sucks in a breath through his teeth and glances at Shuǐ. When she doesn’t immediately retort (because she has no idea what any of the words that were just said mean), Jack leans over to her. “He just called you a prostitute.”

“What?!” Shuǐ snaps, turning on the burly man in an instant. “Listen here, you pestilent, unkept…”

“Codpiece,” Jack interjects when she falters.

“Sure, that—it’s already ill-mannered of you to accuse us of stealing, but I won’t tolerate being outright insulted. I mean–” Shuǐ rounds on Jack, “–do I look like a prostitute to you?”

Jack opens his mouth to answer, then decides that he knows better than that and simply shakes his head. “Exactly,” Shuǐ grumbles as she looks back toward the burly man. “And you. Get lost.”

She starts to step away, but the burly man clutches her arm. “Who do you think you are, you little–”

Just as she snatches a dagger from the sash around her waist, Jack pulls out his pistol and shoots the man in the opposite shoulder. Shuǐ still stabs his wrist for good measure while Jack takes her other hand, pulling her away as the man cries out and releases her. When they look behind them and see two other men, no doubt associates of the first, Jack kicks open the door into the tavern.

They duck inside and hastily make their way through the crowd. “Are they following us?” Jack asks Shuǐ over the raucous shouting.

She glances at the door and sees the other two men struggling to push past drunk patrons who were pushed aside by their entrance and have started brawling with each other. “Not with much success!”

Jack nods, quickening their pace. Even with that reassurance, his grip on her seems to tighten. Once they’re at the tavern’s entrance, they head further into the harbor, until they finally duck into an empty shipbuilding workshop to catch their breath. Jack lets go of Shuǐ’s hand and looks around the corner. “Looks like we’ve lost them.”

“Yeah,” Shuǐ mutters as she puts her dagger away. She pulls down her right sleeve, easing slightly when she sees there are no bruises from where the burly man gripped her arm.

Jack seems to notice she’s distracted and asks, “You alright, love?”

“I’m fine. It’s just–” Shuǐ takes a deep breath and laughs nervously. “I’m used to being the one who’s doing the chasing, I suppose.”

“Well, we’re in the clear for now. Perhaps we should start back toward the Pearl.”

Shuǐ nods in agreement, but when she takes her weight off of the wall behind her to step forward, her legs buckle. Jack catches her by the arms before she crumples. “Woah there—you sure you’re alright?”

“Yes. I mean, I thought I was. I don’t know,” Shuǐ states, tapping her fist against her chest. “It’s fine. It’ll go away. It always does. Eventually.”

“…I think we should sit for just a moment. Let things settle outside,” Jack says finally.

Shuǐ gladly slumps against the wall, lowering herself to the ground as carefully as she can. Jack slides down next to her and his hand travels to hers. She can’t find it in her to pull away. When Jack finds her pulse, his eyes narrow. “Christ, your heart’s pounding. I know we were moving fast, but–”

“It wasn’t that,” Shuǐ interrupts while she reaches back to grab her hairpin. Her hair falls around her shoulders as she removes it, and she shakes her head slightly before brushing it back with a hand. “The hasty escapes are nothing new. I must’ve had too much to drink.”

He glances up at her. It’s a lie, and she knows he knows it, but he plays along. “Perhaps you’ve run aground,” Jack proposes.

Shuǐ pauses her internal pity party for a moment to give him a puzzled look. “What?”

“Well, sometimes after we’ve had a particularly harrowing encounter, the crew sort of shuts down. No one can get anything done, so we can’t go anywhere. Sort of like when a ship gets washed ashore,” he explains. “I call it running aground.”

“Why wouldn’t you just call it shutting down? You’ve already said that’s what happens.”

“Because I like the term running aground. And no more questions; we’ve had our fair share of those for the night.”

Shuǐ manages an amused smile. Jack seems to have the presence of mind to let them sit in silence from then on, though his thumb slides across her palm every so often. After a while, he stands, pulling Shuǐ to her feet as well. “We should keep moving if we want to stay out of trouble.”

“We don’t have to go back to the Pearl,” Shuǐ tells him. Her heart is starting to slow, and she isn’t having as much trouble finding her breath now. “It’s not that late, is it?”

Jack shrugs nonchalantly as he takes her arm. “Mm, the rum here is only half-decent for what it’s priced at. I wouldn’t waste our time.”

Shuǐ tilts her head slightly. “Really? I thought the rum was alright.”

“Well, you haven’t had Caribbean rum. That’s the good stuff, beyond doubt,” Jack states.

“I think you might be biased.”

“I never said I wasn’t.”

Shuǐ snorts and looks forward again, keeping an eye out for the man from before or his associates. Thankfully, they make it back to the Black Pearl without any more trouble. As Shuǐ steps onto the deck, she hears Jia call out from the bow, “There you are! We were about to send out a search party!”

“You’re in trouble,” Jack murmurs to her.

“Both of us are in trouble; I’m just the one she’s allowed to scold,” Shuǐ mutters back.

He chuckles, and she feels his hand brush lightly across her back before he moves toward the helm, clearly not wanting to be caught between her and Jia. Shuǐ finds herself watching Jack even once he’s turned his back to her—and once Jia starts probing her on where they’ve been.

…

“You were attacked?!”

Shuǐ shushes Jia, then listens carefully for movement outside the food locker. There’s none, so she continues. “We weren’t attacked, we were confronted. It just happened to turn violent. But it’s not like it became a bloodbath.”

If she had to guess, she’d say it’s about midday. The Black Pearl is on the move and the rest of the crew is on deck, giving Shuǐ and Jia the time and space they need to recount their adventures from the previous night. Jia crosses her arms. “Then why did you freeze up? That’s not like you. Unless it’s something you’ve left out of all your dangerous tales.”

“I didn’t freeze up until after the fact,” Shuǐ corrects. She pauses, then continues. She might as well try to save face. “And you’re right; it’s not like me. I suppose Barbossa might’ve been right after all.”

“Right about what?” Jia asks.

“There was something he said last night—about me not being an apex predator anymore. I mean, who would you say the most dangerous person in Singapore is?”

“Your father.”

“…After him.”

“I don’t know. Probably one of his crew, wouldn’t you think?”

Shuǐ gives Jia a look, and she quickly backtracks. “Oh, and you’re up there, of course. Somewhere.”

“Your support is truly humbling. Anyway, I knew what to expect at home. And even when we seize a ship, certain risks are always taken. But ports are unpredictable, so maybe that’s why I ran aground,” Shuǐ muses. After a pause, she narrows her eyes at Jia. Even if it is a blatant lie, she doesn’t want it getting around. “If you ever tell Barbossa I thought he was right about that, I’m sending you home in a box.”

“Don’t worry. Even I’m not petty enough to risk my life for it,” Jia assures her. “Besides, I had plenty of chances to find a way home last night, and I’m still here. That counts for something, doesn’t it?”

Shuǐ nods. “It does. I noticed your new earrings.”

Jia grins and reaches up to toy with the gold, flowery jewelry. “Aren’t they lovely? I almost paid for them, but then Bill struck up a conversation with the seller. I was able to swipe them from the counter just like that! Honestly, I don’t know how he didn’t notice.”

Shuǐ smiles back but doesn’t get a chance to reply. There’s a brief knock at the door, and they both answer, “Come in.”

Bill pokes his head in. “Sorry to interrupt. Are you two busy?”

“Not really. We’re only talking,” Jia admits.

“Oh, I see. Captain wants to see you on deck.”

When Shuǐ stands and Jia doesn’t, Bill adds, “Both of you.”

“Ah. In that case, yes, I’m busy,” Jia tells him.

Shuǐ gives her a stern look, and Jia sighs. “Fine, alright, I’m coming.”

When they reach the deck, Jack is at the helm with Barbossa and Gibbs, looking over some charts. He turns when he hears the hatch close. “There you two are. What have you been doing all this time?”

“Nothing important. What do you need?” Shuǐ asks as he comes down from the helm.

“Well,” Jack begins, “it’s been brought to my attention that both of you are lacking in some weaponry knowledge, so we’re going to start remedying that. Miss Jia, you’ll be working on swordsmanship with Bootstrap. Love, you already know what we’re working on.”

Jia crosses her arms. “Why can’t Shuǐ teach me swordsmanship?”

“Oh, all of a sudden, you’re interested?” Shuǐ gripes, giving her a look.

Jia shrugs at her. “Because Shuǐ needs to learn how to use a pistol, and she can’t do that and teach you at the same time,” Jack states. “And also because I’m the captain and I said so.”

Jia rolls her eyes. “I’ll take the first excuse.”

Still, she follows Bill to the bow of the ship without much protest. Once they’re out of earshot, Jack turns to Shuǐ and grins. “So, where do you want to start, love?”

She also looks unamused, and he sighs. “What, you’re going to be difficult, too?”

“Can’t I just stick with the weapons I have?” Shuǐ asks. “At this rate, I’m not going to be able to carry all my knives.”

“I’d think that after last night, you’d be a little more inclined to learn how to shoot,” Jack notes, crossing his arms.

Shuǐ narrows her eyes right back. “You thought wrong.”

Jack eyes her for a moment, then relents and takes out his pistol. “We’ll start simple. Before you can learn how to shoot, you have to know how a pistol works. If you don’t, you can blow off a finger. That happened to one of my great-uncles. Luckily, he was ambidextrous. Are you even listening to me?”

“Yes,” Shuǐ answers as she picks at the flaking wood on the mizzenmast.

“Well, it’s hard to tell when you’re not looking at me.”

Shuǐ pauses, halfway through thinking up a retort. She thinks better of it and bites her tongue, turning to face Jack. Satisfied, he holds up the pistol so her attention is drawn to the handle. “The flintlock does all the work. There are five parts you have to worry about—the hammer, the mainspring, the frizzen, the pan, and the trigger, obviously,” he lists. “The hammer holds the flint, and the mainspring powers the hammer. When you pull the trigger, the hammer lunges forward and the flint strikes the frizzen and ignites the gunpowder in the pan. But before all that, you have to load the gunpowder and a shot. D’you follow?”

Shuǐ nods. Jack holds the pistol out. “Alright, name them.”

“Do I have to?” she questions, only half-joking.

Jack gives her a look and twirls the pistol in his hand. “I’m well aware that you couldn’t be less interested in this, love, but it’s important. Handling a pistol requires care, and precision, and–”

As he twirls it, he loses his grip on the pistol and it clatters to the deck. Jack quickly steps back and Shuǐ presses herself to the mizzenmast, tensing as she waits for a shot to sound. Thankfully, the pistol doesn’t fire on impact with the deck. “And don’t do that,” Jack adds, picking the pistol up and holding it out to her again—this time, like it’s something that bites.

Shuǐ huffs sharply and peels herself away from the mast. She takes the pistol from Jack, trying to ignore the way her hands are going clammy as the weapon is placed within her grasp. She runs her eyes over it, but she doesn’t realize just how long she stands there until Jack clears his throat. “Are you going to name the parts, or…?”

“Which parts are which, again?” Shuǐ inquires. At this point, she’s just trying to stall.

Jack refrains from sighing and points them out again. “Hammer, mainspring, frizzen, pan, trigger. What does the hammer do?”

“It holds the flint.”

“And what does the flint do?”

“It strikes the frizzen and lights the gunpowder.”

Jack grins. “See? You’ll be a fine marksman in no time. Markswoman. Just familiarize yourself with the different parts of the pistol and we’ll be moving towards shooting before you know it.”

He pats her on the shoulder and heads for the hatch. Shuǐ watches Jack leave, and once he’s out of sight, she sets the pistol down onto the nearest barrel she sees. As she goes to ask Barbossa what tasks are left for the day, she can still feel her hands shaking.

When Jack finds her cleaning the cannons, Shuǐ is honest with him—she’s already memorized the different parts of the flintlock and their functions. She’s a little less truthful when she expresses enthusiasm at Jack remarking that they can move on to learning how to load a pistol next. Behind her back, her nails dig into her palm.

She’d rather do anything else.

Chapter Text

It doesn’t take Jack long to realize she’s actively trying to hinder her progress.

Shuǐ knew it wouldn’t work forever, but she didn’t expect him to corner her after only three days of excuses. She’s always the second-to-last one out of the mess since she stays behind to give Jia a head start with the dishes. Jack must’ve been paying attention to that because when she walks out, he’s leaning against the wall across from her. “You’re ignoring me.”

“What?” Shuǐ asks, genuinely confused for a moment. “No, I’m not.”

Jack raises an eyebrow. “You won’t talk to me about shooting lessons, and every time I bring it up, you suddenly have to rush off and do something. You claim that that’s not ignoring me?”

“That’s not ignoring you, that’s avoiding you,” Shuǐ corrects him. “And even then, I’m still not avoiding you, I’m avoiding shooting lessons.”

“Aha! So, she confesses.”

She gives him a look. “I’m not confessing to anything, Jack.”

“Sounded like a confession to me,” Jack states. “I’m starting to think your issue with guns runs deeper than aesthetics.”

Shuǐ stiffens, but she keeps her voice even. He won’t catch her in a trap that easily. “There are more important things to be done on the Pearl than me learning how to shoot. We have months until we reach the Drake Passage; I don’t need to learn right this instant. I have chores just like the rest of the crew.”

Jack crosses his arms. “Yes, but no one needs to take three days to count the gunpowder barrels in the magazine. Especially if they’re the only person on this ship that I know for a fact can count.”

“…We have a lot of gunpowder,” Shuǐ mutters sheepishly.

“Well, it’s all been accounted for. Good on you. Since you appear to have nothing going on at the moment, I say we start working on actually pulling the trigger today.”

Her blood runs cold and Shuǐ blurts out, “I can’t.”

Jack narrows his eyes suspiciously. “Bill asked me to help him with Jia’s sword-fighting lessons,” Shuǐ adds before internally cursing her luck as she hears clattering in the kitchen. It’s a telltale sign that Jia will be out at any moment.

Jack, also recognizing this, calls past her into the mess. “Jia!”

“What?” Jia yells back, poking her head out of the kitchen.

“I hear Shuǐ is assisting in your sword-fighting instruction?”

Jia briefly looks puzzled by the question, but a glance at Shuǐ’s expression tells her all she needs to know. “Oh, yes, that. Mister Turner did say that it would be easier to demonstrate with an opponent,” she remarks, coming to stand next to Shuǐ. “We figured we could borrow her for a day or so.”

Jack looks back and forth between the two, then huffs and starts for the hatch. “Fine. We’ll start working on shooting another time, then.”

As soon as he’s out of earshot, Shuǐ sighs with relief and gives Jia a grateful nod. “Thanks for that.”

“Of course.” Jia pauses, then follows Shuǐ as she heads to the food locker to grab her sword. “If you don’t mind me asking, why are you so leery of learning how to use a gun?”

“I’m not–” Shuǐ starts to argue, but people who aren’t leery don’t lie to get out of things, and Jia will certainly point that out, so she redirects. “I just don’t like them. I don’t know why.”

Jia barely looks convinced, but she doesn’t press. “Well, why don’t you tell Sparrow that? You’ll run out of excuses eventually, you know.”

“I’ve tried. But it’s not like he’s wrong—I’d be better off in a fight knowing how to use a pistol.”

“Not if it’s causing you to lose more sleep than usual,” Jia states, and when Shuǐ turns to her– “You have dark circles under your eyes again.”

Shuǐ grimaces and rubs at her face. “I know. I’ll work something out, alright?”

Jia eyes her for a moment before shrugging. “Sure. It’s no business of mine, either way.”

…

The clanging of steel against steel keeps her awake for the most part, even when she’s not the one dueling Bill. Though, Shuǐ doesn’t find herself watching the lesson. Instead, her eyes are drawn to the water below. As it laps against the hull of the Black Pearl, she traces the lines in the wood of the taffrail. She can see Jack staring at her in the corner of her eye, but she acts as though she’s entirely entranced by the waves. And maybe it isn’t an act. She doesn’t hear Bill calling her name until Jia snaps her fingers directly in her face. “Gods—what?” Shuǐ asks as she jumps.

Jia jerks her thumb in Bill’s direction, and he awkwardly clears his throat. “Just looking for your opinion, Miss Shuǐ.”

Shuǐ looks at Jia. “Did you win?”

“No.”

“Then start winning.”

Jia gives Shuǐ a look but doesn’t retort. While she goes to get a drink, Bill looks at Shuǐ with mild concern. “Is everything alright? You seem a bit out of sorts.”

“More so than usual?” Shuǐ jokes, managing a grin. “I’m fine. I would kill for a decent night of sleep, though.”

“We could stop here for the day,” Bill suggests. “At least, you could.”

Shuǐ ponders it for a moment. Even she won’t deny that she’s tired. But a glance at the helm reminds her of the alternative—it’s either swords or guns, and she’ll take swords in a heartbeat. “I’ve got a few more matches in me,” Shuǐ muses, unsheathing her sword. “What’s next?”

Bill eyes her for a moment but picks his sword up as well. “We’ve worked for a bit on footwork and traditional swordplay. It might do us some good to show Miss Jia how a real fight would look.”

Shuǐ nods. While Bill goes to tell Jia what they’re doing next, she practices a bit to warm herself back up. She can already tell from her lackluster swings that Bill is more likely to win their next match. Shuǐ sighs and rolls her shoulders back, then sets her gaze on Bill as he steps in front of her. “Ready?”

“Are you?” she retorts playfully, getting into a stance.

Bill smiles before looking back at Jia. “This fight will move much faster than what we’ve shown you so far, so try and focus on what you can, alright?”

Jia shrugs, but the shimmering excitement in her eyes gives her away. Bill turns to Shuǐ. “So, should I start, or–”

She lunges forward, forcing him to retaliate. Bill blocks her thrust and parries, but Shuǐ sidesteps him and goes for the attack again. Her quick advance has given her a slight advantage. It seems as though this is going to be a straightforward duel.

But all of a sudden, the ship jars —which is common. Every once in a while, in patchy waters, they’ll hit a wave at a certain angle and it’ll jolt the hull.

What is not common, however, is Shuǐ completely losing her balance. Luckily, both she and Bill drop their swords before she goes crashing into him. Jia rushes to help them, but Shuǐ’s already on her feet again, swaying slightly with the ship. “What was that? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. I tripped,” Shuǐ lies.

Bill and Jia look at the deck, and the boards are as evenly placed as ever. “Over what?” Jia asks.

Shuǐ huffs as she picks up her sword. “How am I supposed to know? Let’s start over.”

Jia narrows her eyes, and Bill looks from her to Shuǐ with an unsure expression. Shuǐ glares back at Jia. “What?”

“Mister Turner, would you excuse Shuǐ and I?” Jia requests. “I believe we’re in dire need of a sisterly conversation.”

“Uh, sure, alright.”

“We had a sisterly conversation this morning,” Shuǐ points out. She’d really rather not leave the deck in such a manner.

Jia grabs her by the collar and drags her across the deck, anyway. “And we could use another.”

Shuǐ grumbles, but she knows better than to argue. She avoids the questioning gazes of the rest of the crew, especially when they pass the helm. When they get to the food locker, Jia shuts the door and leans against it, giving Shuǐ a look. “If you think this work ethic of yours is succeeding, you’re wrong.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do?” Shuǐ retorts. “You saw it for yourself this morning. If I’m not busying myself with something at every waking moment, Jack will insist that I work on shooting.”

“Then tell him you don’t want to learn how to shoot.”

“Jia–”

“At least tell him why. Or if you don’t want to tell him yourself, tell me, and I’ll tell him why.”

Shuǐ clams up and turns away, sitting down on one of the barrels. Jia looks at her for a moment, then sighs. “I won’t make you tell anyone anything, Shuǐ. But I don’t think your typical bullheaded approach will help you in this case. So, if you do decide to say something, it should be to the captain.”

“I know,” Shuǐ admits—to what part, she’s not sure. “I’m working on it.”

Jia gives her a sympathetic smile and opens the door. “I’ll tell the others you’re repairing your arrows or something. Try to get some rest.”

Shuǐ glances up at her, her shoulders dropping slightly. “Thank you, Jia.”

She nods and exits. Shuǐ sits there, not sure what she should do before her eyes land on her sketchbook. She grabs it and a new piece of charcoal, then settles against one of the sacks of grains and flips to her latest drawings.

It may not be sleep, but it’s still resting.

Boredom sets in swiftly, but Shuǐ doesn’t act on it until the rest of the ship has gone quiet. She pretends to be asleep when Jia comes in after dinner, but once she hears Jia’s breathing start to even out, she sneaks back onto the deck.

One breath of the salty air completely rejuvenates her. Shuǐ sends a brief and wary glance to the helm, then tucks her sketchbook into her waistband and rushes up to the crow’s nest. But when she pulls herself up to the side, Jack is already standing there with a lantern. “I don’t remember putting you on sentry duty, love.”

Shuǐ blinks. “How long have you been waiting here for me?”

“…Guess.”

“An embarrassing amount of time?”

“Accurate as always.”

There’s a brief silence between them, and Jack hangs the lantern on the mast, asking, “Are you going to tell me what your problem with guns is yet?”

Shuǐ contemplates climbing down, but he’d probably just follow her anyway, so she steels herself and climbs into the crow’s nest. “I don’t have a problem.”

“People who don’t have problems with certain things don’t avoid them every chance they get,” Jack points out.

“Then I haven’t decided,” Shuǐ states as she sits against the mast.

Jack slides down next to her. “Well, love, the night is young.”

Shuǐ doesn’t respond, not wanting to give him the satisfaction or invite more conversation. Jack watches her as she flips back through her sketchbook, then says something that she doesn’t expect. “Alright, I’ll go first. I don’t like being down in the brig.”

Shuǐ looks up from the pages while Jack continues. “My grandmama’s cousin is a self-proclaimed prophet. When I was eight, she allegedly had a vision of me setting fire to Grandmama’s beloved ship. She and my father locked me in the brig of a different ship until the time for the aforementioned crime to be committed had passed—which, as you might expect, wasn’t anytime soon. And now going in the brig of any ship makes me squirrely.”

Shuǐ isn’t sure how effectively she’s masking her horror, but it must not be very well. Jack glances at her, and before she can say anything, he clears his throat and becomes very interested in the moon. “There. We both have problems. Whatever yours is, it can’t be worse than mine.”

Shuǐ stares at him for a moment more, then closes her sketchbook. “It’s certainly up there.”

Jack turns to her, just slightly. Shuǐ drums her fingers against the leather cover of her sketchbook as she musters her courage. If he’s going to bare part of his soul to her (however small the part may be), she might as well return the favor. “I was fourteen the last time I stowed away on my father’s ship. I’d gotten better at it with every attempt, even though he’d taken more and more measures to prevent me from getting past the docks. On this occasion, I boarded the ship three days before they were supposed to set off—there’s a false wall in the stores. I hid in the concealed compartment. By the time the crew finally discovered me, they were too far out to sea to turn back for Singapore.”

“I think they all expected my father to turn the ship around, anyway, or to drop a rowboat and send me back by myself. I expected worse. But he let me stay. He said that if he couldn’t stop me, he might as well teach me,” Shuǐ recalls. “I was ecstatic. And a fool for believing that. A few months into the voyage, we raided two smaller naval ships from a Dutch fleet. The only hostages we took were five boys—cabin boys. It was business as usual. I thought that we would put them to work on the ship. Until my father lined them up against the taffrail and handed me his pistol.”

Shuǐ sees Jack’s head snap towards her in her peripheral vision, but now that she’s started, she finds she can’t stop. “He’d been teaching me how to shoot. I thought it was his way of bonding with me, but it was all part of this…this sick ploy of his. His terms were that if I killed the oldest hostage, he’d let the rest of them live. The boy was barely my age. I fought, and bargained, and pleaded, and in the end, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t—couldn’t bury my weakness and end one life to spare four others.”

And the guilt isn’t even the worst part. No, the worst part is that Shuǐ can still feel the moment every time she has a gun in her hands, as though she’s living it over and over. She can still feel her father’s hand knotted in her hair, forcing her to watch as his men opened fire. She can still feel the stinging in her throat from the raw, horrified scream that erupted from her as the boys’ shot-ridden, lifeless bodies fell back over the taffrail into the depths. She can still feel the tears that streamed endlessly down her cheeks, even long after the ordeal had passed–

Shuǐ blinks, then reaches up to her face. Her eyes are wet.

She quickly turns away from Jack and furiously wipes the tears away on her sleeve. Once she’s managed to collect herself, she speaks shakily. “I couldn’t bring myself to give up on piracy. I couldn’t even bring myself to give up on my father at first. But I swore that I’d never hold a pistol ever again. Not when it could be used against me so easily. So…there.”

Behind her, Jack is silent. She expected him to be. It’s why she didn’t come out with it in the first place. Why would she? All it showed was how easily she could be broken. Even her older brothers told her that it was the way it was. They didn’t care. Her father didn’t care. Neither will he.

Then she hears Jack shift closer to her. His shoulder presses against hers. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Shuǐ’s breath hitches. “Don’t say that. You don’t mean it.”

“Shuǐ, look at me.”

She flinches when she feels Jack’s fingers brush against her face. But he stops, and it’s only once she turns to him that he cups her cheek. “It wasn’t,” Jack reaffirms. “You’re right about one thing. It was a cruel plot that you were shoehorned into—but that’s all it was. The blame isn’t yours to bear.”

“But if I had just taken the shot–”

“Even if you had, something tells me we’d still be sitting here for all the same reasons.”

Shuǐ goes quiet, then takes his hand and pulls it away (though she doesn’t let go). After a moment, she clears her throat. “It wasn’t your fault, either. What you said about your grandmother’s ship.”

“Well, who knows what would’ve happened?” Jack muses with a shrug. “The old thing didn’t burn down, after all. Though I did feel inclined to fulfill my destiny once they finally let me out of the brig.”

Shuǐ manages a quiet laugh and lets her head fall forward onto Jack’s shoulder. She finds herself breathing a little easier. The familiar ache that had settled in her chest is gone. The fact that he can commiserate with her…she still doesn’t quite understand Jack, but with every new twist she sees in him, she’s starting to mind that less and less.

Jack lets her stay there, bringing his other hand around her back to twist strands of her hair around his fingers. “We’ll work on it, aye? I’m not gonna make you shoot anyone you don’t want to shoot. I can promise you that much.”

When she doesn’t reply, he looks down at her. “Love?”

But Shuǐ still doesn’t answer, fast asleep against his shoulder. Jack looks at her, then scoffs, almost impressed, and leans back against the mast as he pulls her into him.

It seems like it’ll be a long night, after all.

Chapter Text

Shuǐ is rudely awakened when the sunbeams coming over the edge of the horizon hit her directly in the eyes. She grumbles and shifts slightly, only to see her sketchbook in Jack’s lap when the world finally comes into focus. For a moment, she considers going back to sleep.

Then she remembers how she got here.

Jack looks at Shuǐ as she raises her head, detangling his fingers from her hair. “Look at that. For once, I’m up before you.”

“Why do you have my stuff?” Shuǐ questions, shifting closer and realizing that what were previously blank pages in her sketchbook are now filled with odd scribbles.

“I got bored,” Jack states simply. “Don’t worry, I drew small things so I wouldn’t take up space for your precious designs. You might even be able to use them.”

Shuǐ hums and points at one of his sketches. “That’s a nice fish.”

“Is it?”

“Mmhm. The fins are very symmetrical.”

“It’s supposed to be a boat.”

Shuǐ pauses, then bites back a smile. “Well, it’s a very nice fish.”

“You think you’re so charming,” Jack mutters as he scratches out the drawing.

“I’m not the only one up here who thinks that,” she points out.

“Don’t flatter yourself, love; seabirds rarely think good things about anyone.”

Shuǐ chuckles slightly, leaning against the mast. She’s silent while Jack fixes his sketches. Truthfully, she expected him to bring it up first, but it seems he’s leaving that up to her. Hesitantly, she speaks up. “Are…”

Jack looks at her as she clears his throat. “Are you still going to make me learn how to shoot?” Shuǐ asks, trying her best not to look at him. She knows the question makes her seem vulnerable, but after what he did for her last night, she’s willing to let go of some of their pretense.

“Well, yes,” Jack answers, much quicker than Shuǐ thought he would. “But I believe it’ll turn out to be less of me teaching you how to shoot and more of me teaching you how to be comfortable with shooting.”

When Shuǐ grumbles, he quickly interjects. “My original thoughts haven’t changed, love. You’ll still be better off with a pistol than without. I’ll do whatever it takes to get you handling one again if it means you’ll have one more line of defense out here.”

Shuǐ stares over the edge of the crow’s nest, then sighs. She still can’t find a good argument against his logic, so she figures she has to relent. “Fine. When do we start?”

“Tonight. After the rest of the crew has gone below deck. The only person up here besides us will be Gibbs, and he won’t disturb us,” Jack remarks as he stands and hands over her sketchbook. “For now, let’s just focus on other captain stuff.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” she says, getting to her feet.

Shuǐ keeps to herself for most of the morning completing various tasks around the Black Pearl. When midday rolls around, she takes the wheel while the rest of the crew heads below deck for lunch—she’d eaten while Jia was cooking. Not long after she busies herself counting clouds in the sky, she hears the hatch open, and Bill comes up the steps to the helm. “You finished lunch quickly,” Shuǐ notes.

“Yeah. I just wanted to let you know I was gonna get some tattoos squared away tonight after dinner if you’d like to see how it’s done,” he says. “I figure since you’re doing half of the work, anyway, you might as well take my job in full.”

“I suppose I should,” Shuǐ agrees, “given you’re busy teaching Jia how to swordfight now. We wouldn’t want the others to riot. That reminds me; I still need Jack to decide on what design he wants.”

“You two have made up, then?” Bill asks with a grin.

She gives him a look but smiles slightly. “We were never fighting. It was a miscommunication.”

“Of course, Miss Shuǐ. See you on deck tonight?”

“I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to stay, but sure.”

The hatch opens and shuts again, and Shuǐ looks over the wheel to see Jack on the deck, looking at them with his arms crossed. “Bootstrap, I need a word with my apprentice. Go do something with the sails.”

“Aye, Captain.”

Shuǐ watches them both with amusement. When Jack comes to stand next to her at the helm, she leans over to him. “You are aware he’s married, right?”

“Lots of men are married. Doesn’t mean anything to them,” Jack points out.

“Well, you’ve clearly never heard him swoon about his lovely Dahlia,” Shuǐ replies. “What did you want to tell me?”

Jack stares straight ahead, then looks up at the sky. “Nice clouds, aren’t they?”

Shuǐ snorts. “Jealous.”

…

“It’s fairly simple,” Bill begins, putting down a sharpened piece of charcoal. “What I’ve been doing is copying your designs onto the skin, so I have a line to follow.”

He picks up a fine needle—it looks like one of Jia’s sewing needles, in fact—and starts poking holes along the lines he’s created on Ragetti’s arm. “Then I take one of these needles and poke along the charcoal drawing, and once that’s finished, I take the gunpowder and smear it into the holes, and then it’s done.”

Shuǐ sits next to him on another crate. She tilts her head curiously. “Huh. My father’s crew used actual ink.”

“We work with what we have on hand,” Bill admits with a sheepish smile. “D’you think you’re up for it?”

“Why not? It seems just like drawing,” Shuǐ says as she picks up another needle, “except you’re stabbing the art into another person.”

Ragetti stares at her, then turns back to Bill. “I don’t want her to do my next tattoo.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t try my hand at it tonight. I’ll need practice,” Shuǐ muses. “Hey, Jia?”

Jia, who’s practicing her swordplay against Barbossa closer to the bow, shouts back to her, “Over my dead body!”

Shuǐ shrugs and sets the needle down. “Worth a shot.”

Bill laughs as he goes back to tattooing. “I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it quickly, Miss Shuǐ.”

Shuǐ smiles back and opens up her sketchbook to work on the new tattoo requests. It’s all so peaceful that she completely forgets what else awaits her tonight until Jack comes up from the hold an hour later and announces, “Alright, clear the deck. It’s late.”

“The sun only set a few hours ago,” Pintel points out.

“So? It’s late compared to when we all woke up,” Jack states. “Besides, I’m about to hand Shuǐ a pistol.”

The rest of the crew looks at her and immediately heads for the hatch. “Really? I think I’m a fairly good shot,” Shuǐ retorts while they’re leaving.

“They know. That’s what scares ‘em,” Jack says, walking over to where she’s sitting. “You ready?”

Shuǐ gives him an unenthused look. “Well, that answers that. C’mon, on your feet.”

“I’m curious as to what line of reasoning led you to conclude that having me shoot at a target would help me fix my problem,” she mutters as she stands.

“You won’t be shooting at anything,” Jack assures her. “You won’t even be shooting, really. I just want you to start pulling the trigger.”

Shuǐ raises an eyebrow as Jack takes his pistol out of his jacket. “Here. Completely emptied—no gunpowder, no ammo, nothing. Harmless.”

Her expression is still skeptical. Shuǐ knows Jack’s nature well enough by now. She’s not entirely convinced that this isn’t some kind of test or ruse that he’s concocted.

“Love, I swear it. No tricks tonight. I’m not completely oblivious,” Jack promises.

“I don’t–” Shuǐ pauses, then sighs softly and takes the pistol from him. “I don’t think you’re oblivious.”

“Good to know. Take aim at whatever you want,” Jack instructs. “Doesn’t matter, since there’s nothing to fire.”

Shuǐ looks at the pistol, then raises it, pointing the barrel toward the open sea. But her hands are already trembling. When she blinks, the lines between her past and present become blurred. Her mind can’t decide where her memories end and where the current moment begins. She can’t stop herself from going back there.

Shuǐ grimaces and quickly lowers the gun, shaking her other hand off. “I can’t do it.”

Jack steps toward her. “Why not?”

“You know why.”

“I know why you don’t want to, love. Tell me why you can’t.”

“…I’m still seeing it,” Shuǐ admits quietly. “The moment I raise the gun, I’m on the Empress, watching it happen all over again. I know I’m not there, but I am at the same time. That must sound ridiculous.”

Jack doesn’t respond for a moment. He puts his hand on Shuǐ’s arm, the arm that’s holding the gun. “Where are you now?”

Shuǐ looks at him, and her shoulders relax slightly. “Here. I think.”

“Then I’ll keep you here,” Jack states. “Try again.”

Jack’s hand travels to her wrist, and he lightly taps it. Shuǐ looks down at the pistol. This time, when she raises it, his arm rises with her. She shuts her eyes tightly so she won’t see whatever vision her mind puts forth. Jack keeps his hand on her trembling wrist to steady her aim. “Still here?”

Shuǐ nods but keeps her eyes shut. Jack’s other hand comes to rest on her shoulder. “Alright. Pull the hammer back.”

She does so, though she flinches slightly when she hears the hammer click into place. “Now fire,” Jack commands.

Shuǐ hesitates for a moment, but finally pulls the trigger, bracing for the sound of the shot. However, all she hears is another dull click as the hammer springs forward and strikes the empty frizzen. Jack pats her on the back and releases her wrist, his hand traveling up her arm. “There we go. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Shuǐ exhales slowly as she lowers the pistol and opens her eyes. “It wasn’t loaded.”

“I told you it wasn’t.” Jack squints at her. “You don’t have a lot of faith in people, d’you, love?”

“…I suppose not.”

“Good. That’s how you avoid disappointment. Now, try again.”

“Again?” Shuǐ asks, her brow furrowing. She isn’t sure her heart will be able to handle much more of this. “I shot a pistol. Isn’t that progress enough?”

“Piece of advice, love—you’ve got to keep your eyes open when you’re shooting. Also, if you’ve got to shoot a man in the middle of battle, I’m not going to be able to drop everything and come hold your arm up for you,” Jack points out.

Shuǐ narrows her eyes but reluctantly raises the pistol again. Her hand still shakes a bit, and Jack reaches over to hold her wrist until it stops. She inhales quietly, then pulls back the hammer and pulls the trigger. “Again. Quicker this time,” Jack instructs.

Shuǐ pulls back the hammer before she has time to think about it, and this time, she doesn’t flinch when she hears the click of the trigger. “Good. Let’s try it with some direction,” Jack suggests. “I’ll call out targets and you’ll fire. Don’t wait. If you wait, you die.”

Shuǐ nods, already resetting the flintlock. The strains of scattered memories are beginning to clear. It leaves her feeling settled, if only just slightly. “Got it.”

“Let’s see it, then. Helm.”

She’s barely pulled the trigger before Jack calls out another target. “Foremast.”

Shuǐ whips around again and aims for the foremast. “Starboard. Mizzenmast. C’mon, love, where’s that speed you were bragging about?” Jack asks as he circles her.

“You’re the one who was bragging about it,” Shuǐ corrects, pausing briefly to narrow her eyes at him.

“I don’t remember that. Bow.”

She grumbles and turns, but no sooner is her back to him when she hears the sound of a sword being unsheathed. Shuǐ pivots again, this time aiming at Jack, who has his cutlass pointed toward her. He eyes her admirably, lowering the sword. “No hesitation. Very good, love.”

“You said no tricks tonight,” Shuǐ reminds him as she drops her arm. Her heart is pounding in her chest again but begins to slow quicker than usual.

“Pirate,” Jack retorts. “And that was more about whether the pistol was loaded or not. As you’ve seen, there were no tricks on that end.”

“Fair enough. Well? What’s next?”

“We need to make sure you’ll choose a pistol in a fight. Believe it or not, there are moments when you’ll need one. You’ve already got your sword—d’you have any knives?”

Shuǐ stuffs the pistol into the sash around her waist, then reaches into the collar of her tunic and brandishes one of her daggers. “Excellent. Don’t use them,” Jack says, raising his cutlass again.

Shuǐ dodges as Jack swings, glaring at him as she pockets the knife. “Will you give me more of a warning before you try to behead me?”

“You’re entirely right; my apologies. En garde!”

Shuǐ unsheathes her sword, blocking his next attack. Jack stays on the offense, though, and she only manages to get the upper hand after a few well-placed parries. “Just out of curiosity,” Shuǐ asks as she slashes at him, the clang of their swords ringing out into the night, “what’s your plan if I win?”

“We’ll get to that,” Jack responds. The next thing Shuǐ knows, he’s kicked her in the shin. She curses as she’s thrown off balance, and Jack takes the opportunity to knock her sword out of her hands.

Shuǐ instantly goes for her daggers, but Jack steps forward, his cutlass raised threateningly at her neck. “No, no knives. These aren’t knife-throwing lessons.”

“I’m not going to shoot you, Jack,” Shuǐ retorts sharply. She moves back, only to find herself pressed against the main mast.

“Ah, but you’re not shooting me,” Jack points out. “You’re shooting whatever sorry son of a sea slug decided to trifle with you.”

Shuǐ holds her ground, though her gaze stays warily on the cutlass. “Fine, new deal. Either you shoot me, or I run you through,” Jack declares, raising the cutlass to eye level. “How does that sound?”

“You won’t,” Shuǐ challenges. But a slight pang of dread makes her hands twitch when he steps closer again. He might, just to prove his point. Jack’s eyes narrow as though he’s daring her to bet on it.

But despite the more logical part of her mind begging her to reach for the gun and get this over with, Shuǐ clenches her fists. Whatever game he’s playing, she’s putting an end to it. She glares right back, repeating more firmly, “You won’t.”

Jack maintains his stance for a moment more. He lowers the sword and sheathes it. “For the record, you’re still dead in this scenario.”

Shuǐ’s shoulders drop as she sighs. “Does that mean we can stop here for the night?”

“Suppose so. I can’t teach a dead person how to shoot.”

“Agreed. Good night, Captain.”

Shuǐ retrieves her sword from where it had fallen on the deck, grumbling as her leg aches with each step—it’ll no doubt bruise where Jack kicked her. Once she’s mostly put back together, she heads for the helm to take over steering from Gibbs.

Jack disappears through the hatch not long after, leaving her with only the company of her thoughts. Shuǐ gets the sense that he’s annoyed with her over the shooting thing, but he can’t expect her to pull a gun on him like that, can he? The only reason she was able to do it the first time was that she already had the pistol in hand, and she felt terrible about it the moment she realized what she’d done. She’s still not sure she’ll ever be able to truly fire on another person.

Less than an hour passes before Jack reemerges on the deck. When he starts up the steps to the helm, Shuǐ glances at him. “Did you need something?”

“Yeah, this,” Jack responds, grabbing his pistol from her belt and holding it up. “D’you know how hard it is to find a quality pistol these days?”

“I don’t,” Shuǐ says shortly as she looks forward. It becomes clear to her after a few moments that Jack isn’t leaving anytime soon, and she turns to him again. “What else?”

He looks as though he’s considering what to say, so Shuǐ expects it to be quite profound. Instead, Jack asks, “How’s your leg?”

She can’t stop a slight grin from tugging at her lips. “It’s alright. It’ll probably be bruised for a few days, but that’s nothing.”

“Right. Sorry.”

“You should be. And while we’re on the topic of you being sorry, please don’t ever give me an ultimatum like that again,” Shuǐ requests, her eyes narrowing slightly. “If I end up shooting anyone, it’ll be because I want them shot, and—for the time being, at least—I don’t want you shot.”

“There’s no round in here,” Jack reminds her, and he pulls the trigger to reinforce his point. “It’s not like you were going to hurt me.”

Shuǐ’s glare hardens. Jack holds up his hands in surrender. “Alright, I hear you, love. My sincerest apologies.”

She nods and looks ahead, thinking that’ll be the end of it. But Jack lingers still. “Do you need anything more, Captain?” Shuǐ asks.

“No. Just admiring the view.”

Shuǐ bites back another smile. She barely even reacts when Jack steps behind her and she feels his arms wrap around her waist. “You’re still swaying with the ship when you steer,” he tells her, putting his head on her shoulder.

“Am I?” Shuǐ questions, humoring him. “I felt rather steady just now.”

Jack hums in reply. “Well, perhaps I should stay up here with you. Make sure you don’t steer us into a sandbar.”

It’s a terrible excuse. They’re too far out for sandbars. But Shuǐ keeps that to herself and nods. “Perhaps you should.”

“Then I will.”

“Alright.”

“Alright, then.”

At that, silence settles between them. Shuǐ is still trying to refrain from smiling, but she can’t stop a quiet giggle from escaping her. At that, Jack snorts.

It’s not long before the night is filled with the sound of their laughter.

Chapter Text

The sun flashes off Shuǐ’s sword as it clashes with Barbossa’s cutlass. Her eyes are narrowed in concentration; her sleeves are rolled up to her elbows, showing off the bruises from the previous duels. He’s a formidable opponent, she’ll give him that. Still, she waits patiently—and then, as soon as she has some space, she grabs Jack’s pistol from her belt and aims, pulling the trigger.

A dull click signals the end of the match. Barbossa scoffs and sheathes his sword. “I don’t usually think Jack a fool, but givin’ ye a gun is no doubt the most foolish decision he’s ever made.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Shuǐ says. She turns to Jia, who’s watching from the taffrail with Bill. “You’re next.”

Jia scrunches her nose. “No thank you. I think I’ll duel with Mister Turner today.”

“What, scared I’m going to shoot you?” Shuǐ teases.

Behind her comes Jack’s voice. “That is the point of all this, isn’t it, love?”

Shuǐ turns and smiles at him as he approaches. “How’re we doing?” Jack asks the others, and she feels his fingers ghost over her back.

“Pretty good,” Bill discloses. “Miss Jia won her first match.”

“And I’ve ended each of my duels with the gun,” Shuǐ reports proudly.

“Good. Then you won’t mind if I steal you away for a while.” Jack holds his arm out. “Shall we?”

Shuǐ shrugs and takes it. “I suppose we shall.”

As they walk away, Shuǐ swears she hears Jia mutter something about subtlety, but Jack distracts her before she can turn around. “How are you doing, really?”

Shuǐ lets her shoulders sag as she examines the pistol. “Well, it’s becoming second nature, at the very least. But I’m still not sure I’ll use it effectively in battle.”

“Three days ago, you were telling me you didn’t think you’d be able to hold a gun for more than a few seconds,” Jack reminds her. “Now look at you. You’re pulling the trigger on my first mate like it's nothing.”

“Barbossa has a very shootable personality,” Shuǐ points out.

“That is very true. But progress is progress.” Jack turns to face her fully and holds her by the shoulders. “Now, when can we actually load the pistol?”

Shuǐ groans good-naturedly, shaking him off and starting to walk past him. “You can be so pushy, you know that?”

“I’m supposed to be pushy,” Jack states as he takes her hand and pulls her back. “Need I remind you who your captain is?”

“Need I remind you who has your gun right now?” Shuǐ counters, though her eyes have that usual hint of playfulness in them.

“Oh, now we’re playing with fire, love.”

Shuǐ grins, but as she starts to retort, Pintel calls down from the crow’s nest. “Cap’n!”

“What?” Jack snaps, turning to look at him. “I’m busy!”

“It’s one of the Queen’s ships! About five miles ahead of us!”

Jack narrows his eyes and heads to the bow, pulling out his spyglass. “The Royal Navy? What could they be doing so far from home?” Shuǐ questions while she follows him.

“Nothing good,” Jack reports as he looks through it. “What d’you reckon we should do about that?”

He hands the spyglass over, and Shuǐ squints through the lens. Up ahead, a British flag flutters in the wind, bold as you please. Shuǐ looks up at the Black Pearl’s Jolly Roger, then back at the naval ship. “Avoid them?”

Jack makes a face. “Bit late for that. If we can see them, they can see us. But that’s only a fifth-rate vessel—they’ll have the same number of guns as the Pearl, maybe less.”

“So, we’re facing off with them?”

“That’s the spirit. Grab your bow; take up post in the crow’s nest.”

Shuǐ nods and rushes below deck while Jack shouts orders at the rest of the crew. “Hold our course, men! We’ll overtake them! Ready the cannons!”

When she comes back up, quiver around her waist and bow on her back, there’s quite a bit of hubbub on deck. As Shuǐ starts to climb to the crow’s nest, a loud BOOM sounds, and the next thing she knows, there’s a mighty splash just a few feet away from the Pearl’s hull. “That was our warnin’ shot! Prepare to respond!” Barbossa barks at the crew.

Shuǐ pulls herself over the edge of the nest. She nocks her bow and squints as they approach the British ship. “Ready!”

As soon as they cross paths with the vessel, cries of “Fire all!” ring out on both vessels. Shuǐ raises her bow and strikes down the men who are preparing to board the Pearl. Still clinging to the lines, her victims fall into the water below.

However, that move swiftly draws the attention of the soldiers on deck. They raise their rifles toward the crow’s nest and begin to fire at her. Shuǐ ducks, but not before a musket ball catches the edge of her shoulder.

She curses as shots fly above her head and cannons fire down below on the deck. Blood is seeping into the fibers of her top, and her arm burns when she moves it. Shuǐ peeks over the edge of the crow’s nest once the gunfire pauses and sees that the gangplank has been set up—the gunners must have refocused their efforts on the rest of the crew.

Well aware that she won’t be able to do much more with her bow now that she’s injured, Shuǐ climbs back down to the deck, muttering swears under her breath every time her shoulders strain. She starts to head for the hatch, but when she glances at the enemy ship—where all the racket is—she catches sight of Jia caught in the mix.

Shuǐ immediately puts her injury to the side and charges across the gangplank. She draws her sword, fighting her way through the deck. One of the Navy officers has Jia cornered by the stern. Shuǐ feels a jolt of panic hit her—why didn’t she make sure Jia was below deck before she went gallivanting into battle? “Jia!”

However, as Shuǐ’s preparing to lop off the officer’s head from behind, a different blade plunges into his chest. The officer falls, and Jia stares at him, her sword still stuck in his body. Shuǐ looks at him, then at Jia, mildly impressed. “Oh. You had that handled.”

“I’m going to throw up,” Jia murmurs as she drops the handle of her sword.

“Right, that’s a fairly normal response. Get to the gangplank; I’ll cover you.”

Shuǐ wrenches the sword from the corpse and manages to dually block any attacks thrown their way. Once Jia is safely on the Pearl, Shuǐ heads back into the fight, cutting down opponents and searching for someone who might need a spare sword. With the adrenaline in her veins, her injury doesn’t burn quite as badly. As she heads for the bow, another officer knocks her against the taffrail and pins her there.

Shuǐ bites her tongue as her wounded shoulder is harshly jerked against the wood, but she holds strong, using the two swords to push against the officer’s blade. From her position, she can see that further up the bow, Jack is facing off with another soldier. He’s faring well—but then a second manages to sneak up behind him. Shuǐ’s heart clenches as she watches Jack swiftly turn, one of his hands covering what must be a wound on his arm.

She brings her knee up into the chest of the officer she’s dealing with, sending him stumbling back into the battling throng. With him out of the way, she dashes through the mob. The clang of a sword hitting the deck rings out just as Shuǐ shouts, “Move!” to friend and foe alike. When she sees one of the men who was fighting Jack stepping back, she drops both her swords and tackles him to the ground with full force. She manages to kick his blade away, then quickly maneuvers herself so she’s behind him. One arm comes around his neck—and the other pulls the pistol from her belt.

At that, the gnashing of swords and ringing of shots seems to cease.

Silence falls, and Shuǐ takes the scene in wholly. The other soldier—the one who’d snuck up on Jack—has Jack by the collar and his blade to Jack’s neck, but he watches her, unmoving. The Navy men have their gazes warily locked on the pistol, and she hears whispers circulate the ship, the one word they have in common capturing her attention: “Captain.”

It hits her exactly who her pistol is currently pointed at. To her surprise, she finds herself pushing the barrel harder against the side of the Navy captain’s head as she pulls back the hammer. “Unhand him,” Shuǐ commands, the steadiness of her own voice putting her at ease.

Jack raises his brows at her, but the soldier holding him scowls. “You won’t. You don’t have the nerve,” he chastises.

Shuǐ stands, tugging the captain up with her. “Do you want to take that chance?”

Jack gives her another pointed look, and she doesn’t react. Yes, he knows as well as she does that the pistol isn’t loaded, but the enemy crew has no reason to doubt her threat—and the captain certainly isn’t thinking otherwise, because he clears his throat. “What are your terms?”

“Captain–” the soldier starts, but he’s interrupted by Barbossa. “Best not to trifle with her if ye value yer life, boy.”

The soldier clams up. “I propose a trade,” Shuǐ declares. “My captain for yours.”

Jack discreetly winds his hand, gesturing for more. “And…we’ll give you a quarter of our rations for a quarter of your gunpowder,” she continues.

“What about gold?” the soldier asks while Jack winds his hand more forcefully.

Shuǐ narrows her eyes at both—mostly at Jack, who’s not exactly in a place to help bargain. “Let’s not get greedy. The release of our respective captains and a fair exchange of non-monetary goods is more than enough. Then we can all be on our way and forget this ever happened. Do we have an accord or not?”

The soldier’s grimace hardens, but he lowers his sword and releases Jack’s collar. In turn, Shuǐ stuffs the pistol in her belt and steps away from the Navy captain, shoving him back toward his crew. “Much obliged,” Jack thanks the soldier, swagger in his step like he was never in danger at all. He then looks at both crews. “Well? You heard her! Get a move on!”

Shuǐ sighs and heads for the gangplank. Now that the excitement has ended, her shoulder aches—more than it did before. She’s also feeling a bit lightheaded, perhaps from the mix of blood loss and a sudden lack of adrenaline. The bottom line is, she needs to patch herself up.

That is not something as immediately obvious to Jack, who follows her across the deck. “Where are you off to? The person who makes the deal is usually the one who stays to ensure all goes well.”

“The person who made the deal is currently suffering an injury and would rather take care of that first,” Shuǐ replies, shaking her head slightly to clear the encroaching fog.

“You’re hurt?” Jack asks, and Shuǐ does clock his change in tone, but she thinks nothing of it. She turns around and nods. “Not badly. Enough that it’s a growing annoyance, so if I could be dismissed, Captain–”

“Yes. Go, go on. Find somebody qualified to patch you up. Not Bootstrap.”

Shuǐ gives Jack a brief smile, but the moment she’s on the Black Pearl again, she feels her heart start to pound against her ribcage. As she stumbles below deck, she peels her hand away from her shoulder. The drying blood is sticky against her flesh, but it’s not what’s bothering her. She can still feel the weight of the pistol in her hand, even though it’s safely back in her belt now.

The lightheadedness grows stronger, and Shuǐ shuts her eyes as she tries to keep herself in the present, her breaths becoming shorter in pace.

She doesn’t know she’s hit the floor until she suddenly hears Jia calling for help.

And then, fatigue claims her.

…

Shuǐ wakes with a start, and the first thing that hits her is the pain from her aching shoulder. She groans and rolls onto her back, and the second thing that hits her is the relative comfiness of the blankets underneath her. Shuǐ squints, bewildered.

Then she looks around and realizes she’s in the captain’s quarters. Jack is leaning back in his chair, his hat tilted down over his eyes—he appears to be sleeping. She can’t see any sunlight coming through the windows. Dusk must have come and gone. Shuǐ starts to sit up, intending to head for the food locker, but as she hisses through her teeth, Jack speaks up. “Careful. Jia’ll have my head if she has to stitch you up again.”

Shuǐ looks at him for a moment, then notices that both her belt and the sash that keeps her tops in place are missing from her waist. The ends are loosely tied around the back to keep her undershirt covered. She sends Jack an accusatory glare, but he holds his hands up. “Hands off. I remembered,” he states, pushing his hat up slightly.

She raises an eyebrow but slides the sleeve of her injured arm down. Sure enough, stitches are holding the wound on her shoulder closed. With a huff, Shuǐ covers it again and turns to Jack. “How long–”

“Long enough to miss dinner,” Jack interjects. “Hungry?”

Shuǐ nods, then catches the bread roll he tosses to her. “And I assume the crew saw.”

Jack shrugs, taking his feet off of the table and displacing a few charts. “Some of them did, some of them didn’t, but they are all under the impression that you went down because your injury was worse than you said.”

She senses the double meaning in the sentiment but chooses to ignore it. “Good. I don’t need any of them thinking I can’t handle a pistol,” Shuǐ mutters before tearing into the bread roll.

As occupied as she is with her snack, she still notices Jack standing and rummaging around in the corner of her eye. When he lights a candle, Shuǐ gives him a curious look. “What are you up to now?”

“Well, I may or may not have been left unsupervised for a moment while we were exchanging goods with the Navy mongrels,” Jack tells her, sitting next to her on the bunk and setting the chamberstick to the side. “I did what any good pirate would—I plundered.”

“Jack,” Shuǐ starts to scold, but he waves a hand dismissively. “I made sure what I took was of great insignificance. They’ll never know.”

She still narrows her eyes, but she’s swiftly distracted when Jack opens his hand and reveals several small, colorful glass beads. “Where did you find those?” Shuǐ questions.

“In one of the cabins. I figured they were already contraband.” Jack puts all the beads on the base of the chamberstick, then shifts toward her and leans forward. “Hold still. This is hard enough to do in the daylight.”

He takes a piece of her hair that hangs closer to her face and starts to braid it. Shuǐ tries to look down to watch, but Jack tuts at her. “I said hold still.”

She gives him an amused look but keeps her head in place. It’s hard to stop herself glancing at him, though, especially with his knuckles brushing across the side of her face. As Jack is tying off the braid with some twine, Shuǐ pipes up again. “You know, when you said you’d teach me to be a captain, I didn’t think that meant you’d be turning me into another you.”

Jack gives her a look while he grabs one of the glass beads—a sea-green one. “What’s that s’posed to mean?”

“You have beads in your hair. Now you’re putting beads in my hair. That’s all.”

“What’s wrong with my hair?”

“What—nothing’s wrong with it, Jack, I just noticed–”

“Do you not like my hair?”

“No, I do. Honest.”

Jack squints at her, then continues threading the glass bead onto the braid, though he mumbles, “I’m not convinced.”

“I like your hair, Jack,” Shuǐ assures him as she bites back a grin.

“Then why do you sound like you’re about to laugh?”

“Because I was making an observation and you’re blowing it out of proportion.”

“Well, for the record, I like my hair.”

“I never said I—oh, never mind.”

Shuǐ decides to keep her mouth shut until Jack is finished so as to not make a fool of either of them. Eventually, he secures the glass bead and straightens up, looking quite pleased with himself. “That’s not too off, for a job done in the dark.”

“And remind me why you’re putting beads in my hair now?” Shuǐ asks, pulling the braid around to look at it.

“Consider it a reward,” Jack says. “You pulled a gun on a man without me coaxing you into it. That’s a step forward, wouldn’t you agree?”

Shuǐ hums. “Perhaps. But it could’ve been a fluke.”

Jack looks at her curiously. “Why d’you think that?”

She doesn’t answer, toying with the new braid. Jack stares at her for a moment more, then narrows his eyes slightly. “Is this how you feel when I don’t answer your questions?”

Shuǐ glances at him and grins. He scoffs lightly as he stands and blows out the candle. “I’m off to trade the wheel with Hector. Get some sleep—or whatever your method of rest is.”

“Thank you, Jack,” Shuǐ says before he walks out of the cabin.

It’s for much more than the new braid in her hair. In the darkness, she can’t make out Jack’s expression, but the edges of his silhouette nod before the door closes. With nothing more to do, Shuǐ lies back down and rolls onto her side, twirling the braid around her finger. The golden pearl in her makeshift necklace is cool against her collarbone.

It’s becoming clear to her that for herself and Jack, what may have started as a harmless game of flirting and flitting around each other like two schoolchildren is becoming less and less simple. After all, she thinks what happened with the pistol was a fluke because he was in danger. It was instinctive, there wasn’t a calculated thought behind it, and not likely to be replicated except in the most dire of circumstances. And though it’d be very neat and easy to only need Jack alive so he can fulfill his end of their deal, Shuǐ knows herself better than that.

She wants Jack around, near her. The same way she wants to be on the sea. It’s a new feeling—and somewhat frightening.

Shuǐ was never one for these types of affairs. Any boy who approached her in Singapore was turned away—if not by Shuǐ herself, then by Sao, who had his own opinions on the type of man she should be pursuing. Yet for all her personal inexperience, she knows how these things end. It comes to a head at one point or another. It’s not worth deceiving yourself and others. The latter already takes up so much energy.

That doesn’t mean she can just say something to Jack outright, though. Shuǐ isn’t exactly the ideal woman. She’s more aware of that than any man alive. If Jack has stronger feelings for her, he’s more intriguing than she thought. But she’s not willing to risk her place on the crew for something so unlikely.

Oh, well. Until that deciding moment comes, it seems they’ll be—in Jack’s words—a pair of fools.

Shuǐ is surprised by how much she doesn’t mind that.

Chapter Text

When Jack sees Shuǐ the next morning, the plate of food she’s holding quickly captures his attention. He picks his head up off the wheel and grins at her. “Breakfast? You shouldn’t have, love.”

“Well, consider us even,” she replies as she trades places with him. Jack eagerly bites into the dumplings while Shuǐ goes on. “According to Mister Gibbs, we’re less than a two-day journey away from Kiribati.”

“That we are,” Jack agrees. “In two days’ time, we’ll see how reliable your beloved stories are. You nervous?”

Shuǐ scoffs and gently turns the wheel. “Never. The word I use is apprehensive.”

“Good. Then perhaps you won’t mind if we add some gunpowder to the mix in your shooting lesson today.”

To Jack’s surprise, Shuǐ doesn’t glare at him like she usually does when he broaches the subject—it’s more of a resigned frown. That’s a good development. “What? After yesterday’s progress, it seems like the logical step forward,” he points out.

“I thought we agreed that it could’ve been a fluke,” Shuǐ says, still looking forward. “Need I remind you that I fainted immediately after? I would rather not do that again.”

“So don’t,” Jack tells her, and when she does glare at him this time: “One shot, love. That’s all I’m asking of you. If we run into trouble in Kiribati–”

“When we run into trouble in Kiribati, you’ll be the one shooting at it, because it’s your pistol,” Shuǐ interjects.

Jack raises an eyebrow. Finally, Shuǐ sighs. “One shot. Go get your gun.”

“Should I get a sack of grains for you to fall into in case you do faint?”

“Oh, just go before I change my mind.”

Jack grins and heads below deck to deliver his cleared plate to the galley and retrieve the gunpowder and lead shots they’ll need. The rest of the crew is hard at work repairing the damage done by their run-in with the Navy, so they won’t be bothered. When he enters the magazine, Barbossa is shouting orders at Pintel and Ragetti. “And don’t try to blame it on sight! There’re three eyes between the two of ye!”

“He’s right, y’know,” Jack states as he grabs one of the gunpowder tins.

“And where have you been all morning?” Barbossa asks snidely, turning to look at him. “There’s work to be done.”

“I am in the middle of something very important,” Jack responds. “Shuǐ’s finally ready to fire with gunpowder. It shouldn’t take us long to wrap up; something tells me she’s a good shot. D’you have any idea where we keep the empty rum bottles?”

Barbossa stares at him for a moment, then chuckles dryly, slinging his arm around Jack’s shoulders. “Jack, Jack, Jack. Can I make a request?”

“Alright, what?”

“Can ye court Miss Sao already so the rest of us can move on with our lives?”

Pintel and Ragetti glance at each other, their eyes widening. Jack gives Barbossa a look. “What d’you mean by that?”

“When ye came up with this absurd plan to woo her, we all thought it would be—how should I put it—a much shorter arrangement,” Barbossa discloses. “Now we’re two days away from a treasure that she wanted to find, with ammunitions gathered from a deal that she made—yer teachin’ the lass to shoot, for God’s sake. It feels like you’re takin’ this pact of yers seriously now.”

“What would you rather have me do?” Jack asks, going back to his task. “Cut the line and send her sailing into a squall? She does her part, same as the rest of you.”

Barbossa scoffs. “She’s a distraction. Not just for you, but for every man on this ship. I’m sure they’d all rather things went back to the way they were.”

“I like Miss Shuǐ,” Ragetti pipes up. Barbossa and Jack turn to him, and he sheepishly clears his throat. “She makes nice drawings.”

“Well? Have you two heard any complaints?” Jack questions.

Pintel shakes his head. “Nothin’ about Miss Shuǐ or Miss Jia, Cap’n.”

Jack turns to Barbossa triumphantly. “There you have it. The crew is fine, Shuǐ is fine, and I’m keeping my end of our deal, so stop worrying.”

“Will ye court her anyway?” Barbossa requests as Jack is leaving. “Watchin’ you two is like torture.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!” Jack calls back to him.

Once he’s away from the magazine, Jack scoffs to himself. Court Shuǐ? Please. He’s not the courting type. And even if he was, Shuǐ would never let him. She seems like the kind of woman who would rather die than be courted. Surely an exception wouldn’t be made for a dirty, no-good, rotten pirate.

He’d be lying if he said the idea didn’t spark curiosity in him, though.

When Jack emerges on the deck again, Shuǐ has handed the wheel off to Gibbs. She’s sitting against the main mast with her sketchbook in her lap, and she only looks up when Jack casts a shadow over her drawings. “There you are. I have a new idea.”

“God help us,” Jack jokes as she stands up. “What is it?”

“I figured you would bring more than one round,” Shuǐ tells him, “even though I only agreed to give you one shot. I don’t think it’s fair to be pushed without some kind of reward.”

Has he become so obvious? No, it makes sense that she’s beginning to catch on to their game. They’ve been playing it long enough at this point. “Fine then. Not to say you aren’t being terribly presumptuous, but I’ll bite. What do you want?”

Shuǐ grins. “Here’s my offer. I’ll shoot for as long as you want me to if you’ll be my first tattoo client.”

Jack squints at her. “That’s not much of a deal, love.”

“Well, it’s either that, or I fire once, faint, and never touch a pistol again.”

“I see your point. Alright, I’ll take it—if I may be allowed an amendment.”

Shuǐ nods and watches curiously as he sets three glass bottles on a barrel. “Those are your targets. I have nine in all,” Jack says. “If you manage to shoot six on the first try, we’ll go with your original offer. If you get all nine, you get to choose the design, and I have no say in it.”

“Ooh, that’s dangerous territory,” Shuǐ teases. “Do you trust me that much?”

Jack shakes his head as he comes to hand her the pistol. “It’s not about trust, love. It’s about how good a shot you are. You remember how to load it?”

“Gunpowder in the pan, shot in the barrel, frizzen over the pan, hammer, shoot,” Shuǐ lists, trading her sketchbook for the gun. “Flip through that if you want. You might see something you like.”

Shuǐ steps forward while Jack opens the sketchbook and skims the latest pages. Her injured shoulder is thankfully not the shoulder she shoots with, so there’s no risk of strain that could cause her stitches to come apart. As she loads one round, she calls back to Jack, “You know, I can release at least three arrows from my bow in a single shot.”

“Yeah? I don’t remember you holding an arrow to anyone’s head yesterday,” Jack counters.

Shuǐ shrugs and raises the pistol, aiming at the glass bottles. “Fair point.”

Though her earned knowledge of pistols has waned with time, she remembers how to shoot. Before she was forced to be an executioner, she had rather enjoyed the feeling of the gun pushing back into her palm and the smell of the gunpowder in the air. And now, standing on the deck of the Black Pearl with her targets close in range, Shuǐ finds herself feeling strangely excited about the whole affair, rather than filled with dread. Maybe what happened yesterday has done her some good, after all. She’s firing to protect now, not to kill.

She fires at the middle bottle. The lead shot bursts through the two behind it, and all three bottles shatter. Shuǐ steps back out of surprise, and even Jack looks up from her sketchbook, his brow raised. “Something tells me I should have made this challenge more…challenging.”

“I can space the bottles out if you’re getting worried,” Shuǐ replies, slightly amused. Her hands shake a bit while she’s resetting her targets, but the usual pressure in her chest that makes her heart feel as though it’s bursting is absent. Shuǐ takes the pistol out of her belt and goes through the motions of loading it, pleased by the progress. As she’s clicking the frizzen into place, Jack pipes up. “You’re in high spirits.”

Shuǐ looks at him for a moment, then grins. “Of course, I am. I’m winning.”

He snorts and waves a hand, gesturing for her to continue. She pulls back the hammer and fires, shattering the first bottle. The second and third bottles are gone in a matter of minutes as well. Jack closes the sketchbook while Shuǐ sets up the last three bottles on the barrel. “That’s six. You sure you don’t want to call it here?” he asks her.

“Are you concerned about my well-being or the fact that in less than a minute, I may be choosing which of my sketches gets permanently etched into your skin?” Shuǐ retorts playfully.

Jack shrugs, offering no clear answer. “If it’s the former, I can assure you that I am perfectly fine,” she states. “If it’s the latter, I’ll ease your nerves and make these last three more difficult to hit.”

Shuǐ lines up the bottles on the taffrail and steps back, almost next to Jack. It’s quite a distance, compared to where she was shooting from before. “How about that?”

Jack scoffs. “You’ll be able to hit those.”

“We’ll see.”

Shuǐ hits the first bottle, and the second—but as she raises the pistol to fire at the third, the Black Pearl tilts with the waves. The bottle slides down the taffrail, and though Shuǐ still tries to shoot at it, the shot misses. They both hear the splash as the bottle falls overboard.

Shuǐ huffs and gives the pistol to Jack. “It appears you’re safe, for now.”

Jack hums in reply. If she didn’t know any better, Shuǐ would think he was disappointed. After a moment, he hands over her sketchbook. “You might as well choose, anyway. You were one shot away.”

Shuǐ gives him a curious look. “I thought the terms were nine bottles exactly.”

“I’m the captain, love. I can change the terms,” Jack says, waving a hand dismissively. “Besides, I couldn’t decide if I tried. I marked all the ones that looked interesting. Now, when shall we rendezvous for the appointment?”

“…This evening. After dinner.”

“Splendid. In my quarters, then—to avoid gawkers, don’t give me that look. Now clean up all this glass. I have to go and make sure the crew isn’t doing more harm than good with their repairs.”

Shuǐ watches Jack while he heads for the hatch. Once he’s left, she flips back through her sketchbook. Sure enough, Jack has drawn little X’s next to some of her sketches, even ones she hadn’t intended to use for tattooing. As she looks them over, she steps up to the helm. “Mister Gibbs, I don’t suppose there’s a broom on the Pearl?”

“Not to my knowledge, Miss Shuǐ,” Gibbs admits. “A dry mop may get the job done, just the same.”

“Not that I have much of a choice,” Shuǐ mumbles as she closes the sketchbook. However, before she can head toward the hatch, she finds herself stopping in her tracks. Something about her victory keeps nagging at her. “Anything else, Miss Shuǐ?” Gibbs questions, clearly sensing her hesitation.

“Is Jack always so forgiving?” Shuǐ inquires before she can stop herself. “Or—I’m not sure ‘forgiving’ is the right word, but it’s the word that comes to mind.”

Gibbs looks at her thoughtfully. “Well, compared to other captains, I’d say yes. There’s great cruelty to be had on other ships, Miss Shuǐ, even those of prestige—I’ve seen it m’self. Jack’s not the standard captain, be it pirate or Navy.”

Shuǐ nods. She already knew that—she knew it the moment Jack offered her a place in the crew. But the way Gibbs explains it goes beyond her understanding. “It’s not just me, then. He’s like this with the others, as well.”

“In a sense, miss. But as I’ve said before, I’ve never seen Jack take an interest in someone as much as he has you. If you don’t mind my boldness, whatever impression you’re under may be closer to the truth than you think.”

“Is that so?”

Gibbs nods, then looks forward again. It seems the matter is closed for him. Shuǐ goes below deck and grabs a mop, as he suggested.

She tries not to pay any mind to the fluttering in her chest.

…

After dinner, Jack loudly announces that he’s heading to his quarters. Shuǐ takes it as a not-so-subtle signal.

She gives it a good fifteen minutes before she stands and carries her cleared plate to Jia in the kitchen. “Do you want any help?”

“Not from you,” Jia replies bluntly as she washes the cookware. Then she looks at Shuǐ, puzzled. “Where are you off to?”

She usually stays to chat with the rest of the crew, so she expects the question. Shuǐ merely shrugs. “I’m tired. We all need our energy for when we arrive at Kiribati.”

Jia laughs. “You? Tired? Now I’ve heard everything. Is your arm bothering you?”

“A bit,” Shuǐ lies. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

When she heads out of the mess, she gets the same question from Bill. “Turning in for the night, Miss Shuǐ?”

“Mmhm. I have some sketches that I’d like to finish,” Shuǐ replies. “Goodnight, everyone.”

With her alibi in place, Shuǐ collects the small bag of gunpowder that Bill uses for tattoos from the magazine. Next, she grabs her sketchbook, charcoal, and one of Jia’s sewing needles from the food locker. Finally, checking that the coast is clear, she discreetly makes her way to the captain’s quarters.

For once, Jack opens the door immediately after she knocks. “What took you so long?”

“Unlike you, I had to have an excuse prepared for leaving dinner early,” Shuǐ retorts, though there’s a bounce in her step as she sets the materials she’s gathered on the table. “Do you have another chair?”

Jack shakes his head, and she purses her lips. “Alright. You sit on the bunk, and I’ll sit in the chair.”

“Which sketch did you choose?” Jack asks while Shuǐ pulls the chair over so she can sit in front of him.

Shuǐ grabs the sketchbook and finds her page, then shows it to him. Truthfully, it is her favorite design—she was rather thrilled when she saw he had marked it as well. It’s another sparrow, but this one is in flight, in the forefront of the sun peeking over the waves. While Jack is eyeing the sketch, Shuǐ twists her hair into a loose bun and rolls up her sleeves. “What do you think?”

“This one was my first pick,” Jack says, overlapping with her question. Shuǐ glances up, momentarily struck by the sincerity in his voice. He quickly adds, “Well, I was also partial to the one with the sword.”

Shuǐ smiles and picks the charcoal up from the table. “If all goes well, we can look at that one next. Arm, please.”

When Jack rests his arm on his knee, Shuǐ realizes there’s still quite a bit of space between them. Not wanting to strain her shoulder, she grabs the edge of the bunk and tugs the chair closer. Jack shifts his leg so it is between hers, and Shuǐ pulls his arm nearer to her, pushing his sleeve up more.

Her gaze must linger on the pirate brand because Jack clears his throat. “I’ve decided I don’t want the brand covered.”

“You’re sure? This should do the trick.”

Jack nods. Shuǐ eyes him for a moment longer, then adjusts her sketchbook so she can glance at it as she’s drawing the design. “Alright then. Hold still. This is hard enough to do on paper.”

When she draws the first arc of the sparrow’s wings, Jack’s arm twitches. “Jack,” Shuǐ says warningly.

“I know, I know.”

Once more, she presses the charcoal to his skin for the next line. He twitches again. Shuǐ looks up at him and clearly doesn’t do a great job of hiding her annoyance, because Jack narrows his eyes right back. “Look, it’s hard not to move, alright?”

“Well, try not to focus on me drawing. That should help,” Shuǐ suggests.

“How am I supposed to do that?”

“I don’t know. Hum. Whistle. Talk about the weather. Do whatever you can so you won’t move and mess me up.”

Jack huffs but doesn’t say anything. Shuǐ goes back to drawing the outline on his skin. As she’s finishing the first wing, Jack speaks again. “I used to work for the East India Trading Company.”

Shuǐ abruptly looks up, nearly bumping his head with hers. “What? Why?”

“That’s a very long story,” Jack states with a hint of bitterness, “and I’m already trying to keep this one concise, so let’s not worry about the why. I’ll say this much: I was young and troubled and believed I needed a change of pace from running for my life.”

Shuǐ squints at him. Jack clears his throat, glancing at his arm, and she goes back to drawing. “When I became a captain under the organization, I was assigned to a merchant vessel—the Wicked Wench. We made several voyages together, transporting cargo and the like,” he continues. “Then they had the bright idea of sending me on a treasure hunt. Well, I found the treasure, alright. But I also found people. They made it clear they weren’t interested in bartering with a company that didn’t care whether they lived or died. So, I came back empty-handed. The bloke in charge of me didn’t appreciate that much. He made me a deal to be rid of me. He would sell the Wench to me for one shilling; all I had to do was carry a shipment of slaves to his patron.”

“And?” Shuǐ prompts, completely forgetting that she’s supposed to be focused on tattooing him.

Jack chuckles wryly. “I suppose it wasn’t that different from you and your gun issue. I couldn’t do it. I set them free and took off with the Wench. The Company found me all the same. After I rotted in a cell for a few months, they branded me and sunk the Wench, right in front of my eyes. Didn’t do a good enough job of keeping me captive, though. I slipped out of their grasp soon after.”

Well, that explains how he knows the East India Trading Company’s routes off the top of his head. Shuǐ looks at Jack for a moment, then realizes she’s been staring and goes back to drawing. “You said before a stupid mistake got you the brand,” she recalls. “That doesn’t sound like a stupid mistake.”

“Getting caught was the stupid mistake, love.”

“So, how were you and the Pearl brought together?”

Even though she’s not looking at him, she can hear the grin in Jack’s voice. “We were always together. The Black Pearl and the Wicked Wench are one and the same.”

Shuǐ pauses. “That’s not possible.”

“Isn’t it?”

“Not if I’m to believe the tale you just spun.”

Jack simply hums in reply. “You’re not the only one who knows old stories, love.”

Shuǐ raises a brow, but it seems that’s all she’ll be able to get out of him on the subject. She finishes drawing soon after, and she straightens up, rolling her stitched shoulder back. “How does it look so far?”

Jack holds his arm up to the lantern hanging by the bunk. “Good.”

“You like the placement? And the detailing?”

“Yes, love, it’s perfect.”

Shuǐ’s half-certain that he’s only saying that to appease her, but she smiles all the same while she reaches for the sewing needle. “Alright. Now for the not-so-easy part. Tell me if I’m hurting you.”

Jack scoffs, almost offended. “No one hurts me.”

“Believe me, I’ve come close on more than one occasion.”

Jack doesn’t look too convinced of that, but he wisely decides not to challenge her while she has the needle in hand. Shuǐ is careful as she begins poking along the lines of her sketch. Bill told her that the key to this part of the process was to make the holes as close together as possible, as though she were actually tracing the lines of her sketch with the needle. She keeps this in mind as she moves slowly and methodically, careful not to puncture Jack’s skin too deeply.

That completely goes awry when he decides to open his mouth again. “Love, have you ever been courted?”

Again, Shuǐ’s head whips up, and as a result, she pushes the needle in with more force. Jack hisses as she retracts, “Bloody hell—sorry I asked.”

“No, no, I’m sorry,” Shuǐ apologizes quickly. “The question caught me off guard.”

An awkward silence falls between them as she leans forward again, going back to work. She wonders if that’ll be the end of it, but the comfortable atmosphere they’ve created seems to embolden him. “Well, have you?” Jack inquires finally.

“Of course not. I’ve been very good at dodging the matter altogether,” Shuǐ admits. “My father did threaten me with marriage the day I decided to leave Singapore for good. But I imagine it was nothing more than a bluff. He’d have a difficult time finding any man with a desire to court me.”

“What makes you think that?”

Shuǐ does her very best not to glance at Jack. “Well, first of all, I’d be doing everything I could to thwart the efforts of whatever doomed suitor he dug up. I have no desire to be courted by the type of man my father would approve of. The poor beleaguered soul wouldn’t last a week with me at my most defiant. And news like that travels quite quickly in Singapore. If I get rid of one suitor, the others will steer clear.”

Jack watches her carefully as she sets the needle down and grabs a handful of gunpowder to smear into the lines. “And if it was a man you approved of?”

“You give me too much credit, Jack. Even if I was in love with a man, I am not the courting type of woman, in my eyes and theirs,” Shuǐ refutes as she rubs the gunpowder over the tattoo. “No man alive can tolerate my wild spirit.”

With the final step done, she starts to lean back. But as her hand drifts from Jack’s arm, he captures it in his own, lacing their fingers together. “What if one could?”

Shuǐ jumps so harshly that her sketchbook falls to the floor with a gentle thump. “Pardon?”

“What if one could?” Jack repeats, and he looks dead serious about it, too. “Rather, what if one did? Not just tolerate your wild spirit, but embrace it? What then?”

“I don’t know,” Shuǐ stammers. “I suppose it would depend on how well I knew the man.”

“And if you knew him very well?”

“Gods’ sakes, I don’t know, Jack. We’re tossing around a lot of hypotheticals.”

The Black Pearl violently jerks beneath them, sending Shuǐ straight into him. They knock their heads together, but it barely takes Jack a moment to sit up, his hands on Shuǐ’s shoulders. “You alright?”

Shuǐ nods, pushing herself off his chest. The Black Pearl shudders again, as though something is grinding against her hull. “What the hell are they doing to my ship?” Jack mutters as he stands, bringing Shuǐ up with him.

“Go to the deck,” she suggests. “I’ll get things in order here.”

Jack nods and heads for the door. Once Shuǐ collects her materials and puts everything back where it belongs, she surfaces as well, looking around while the rest of the crew dashes about. “What’s going on?” she asks Bill as he rushes past.

“We hit a sandbar!” Bill shouts back, but that’s all she gets out of him. Shuǐ scans their surroundings, bewildered. How could they have hit a sandbar all the way out here?

“Love!”

She turns when she hears Jack call to her. He’s at the helm with Barbossa and Gibbs, and when Shuǐ climbs the stairs to join them, she sees the cause for all the commotion.

In the moonbeams, Shuǐ can make out the edges of land. An island.

“Kiribati,” she murmurs to herself. “But—I thought we’d reach it tomorrow.”

“You’re not the only one,” Jack responds, looking at the island through his spyglass.

Barbossa turns to him. “What’s our next move, Jack?”

Jack lowers the spyglass and collapses it. When Shuǐ realizes he’s turned to her, she raises her eyebrows. “Me?”

“It’s your treasure, love,” Jack replies.

Shuǐ’s gaze lingers on him, then travels to the island. It appears to have some dense foliage—not much of the moonlight breaks through the leaves of the trees. “We’ll never make it through that jungle in the darkness,” she reasons. “We’ll have a better chance waiting for dawn.”

Jack nods, then yells at the crew. “Drop the anchor! Prepare the boats! We’ll depart at sunrise!”

Shuǐ goes to help the others, but even as she ties off lines and raises sails, her eyes find themselves drawn to two different places.

The island, she spares quick glances. It’s Jack she finds herself staring at most often.

Chapter Text

Shuǐ is the first one on deck when dawn breaks.

Now that she can see the island, she realizes there’s not as much consolidated surface area as she assumed. It’s an archipelago, made up of twenty (or so she counts) atolls. They appear to have stumbled upon the largest of these, but even then, the atoll she’s looking at is less than half the size of Singapore. There won’t be many places for their dragon to hide.

She runs a hand over her arm—the one that was injured. Jia had looked it over earlier in the morning, and though she said the stitches wouldn’t tear at this point, she was reluctant to remove them completely. It means Shuǐ will have to be more careful than usual. After all, they’re pretty much guaranteed to run into trouble.

“Love!”

In the crow’s nest, Shuǐ looks down to see Jack on deck. “Figured you’d already be up here,” he notes as she climbs down the ratline. “You have everything you need?”

“Everything I can carry,” Shuǐ replies, her feet hitting the wooden planks. “I managed to talk Jia into bringing my extra arrows, but if we get separated, I’ll only have what’s in my quiver. We should use them wisely.”

Jack nods and turns to look at the atoll. Shuǐ follows his gaze, but she can’t quell the thoughts running free in her mind. Their conversation from last night, the questions he’d left unasked and she’d left unanswered; they hang over her head, but not in a way that makes her feel uneasy. Instead, it’s like watching the fuse of a firework being lit—the wide-eyed anticipation that leads up to the bursts of light and color.

“Jack.”

He turns to her, and she sees that same keenness in his eyes. “About what you said last night,” Shuǐ starts, only to be interrupted by the hatch banging open. The rest of the crew is filing onto the deck now, with Barbossa shouting at them, “Up, ye blasted urchins! We have a treasure to find!”

Jack looks annoyed for a brief moment, then leans over to Shuǐ. “As much as I’d love to hear the end of that sentence, I think we’ll have to save this conversation for later, aye?” he says lowly.

She nods in agreement, and Jack turns to the rest of the crew. “Alright, gents and ladies. Have we determined who is staying with the Pearl?”

A small group of men raises their hands. “Splendid. Then the rest of us will be setting off. If we’re not back by sundown—no, the next dawn—let’s say three days to be safe, shall we? Where was I—if we’re not back by then, well, keep to the Code.”

After a brief pause, Jack claps his hands together. “Let’s set off, shall we?”

As the others disperse to lower the rowboats, Jia crosses to Shuǐ. “What on earth is the Code?”

“The Pirate Code, I believe,” Shuǐ clarifies. “I’ve heard my father discuss it with my brothers in passing. From my understanding, it’s the only thing that keeps us from being at each other’s throats. That’s one of the reasons why there’s a council; to ensure the Code is respected.”

“And what does the Code say about us not being back in three days?”

“No clue. I’ve never had the opportunity to read it. There’s only one copy.”

Barbossa must overhear them, because he says as he passes, “That’s a simple one. Any man who falls behind is left behind.” He turns and narrows his eyes at them. “For yer sakes, don’t fall behind.”

Shuǐ and Jia watch him as he trudges off. “You heard the man,” Shuǐ states, patting Jia on the shoulder. “Don’t fall behind.”

“Hey!”

Within the hour, they’re rowing toward the atoll. Shuǐ finds her attention, which is supposed to be focused on helping Bill row, being stolen by the fish and rays that dart about under the clear water's surface. Once they reach the shore, Jack pulls out his compass. “Love, come here for a moment.”

Shuǐ, already knowing what he needs, holds the other side of the compass. The needle spins and points straight ahead. With their direction given, she starts to let go, but Jack puts his other hand over hers. “Keep holding it. Something tells me our heading will change often.” Then he looks toward the rest of the crew. “This way. Keep your eyes and ears open for anything. Not your mouths. We all know how that ends.”

Everyone except Shuǐ and Jia murmurs in agreement. “How does that end?” Shuǐ asks Jack as they begin leading the trek.

“With someone eating a bug. Not pleasant.”

“Was it you?”

“No.”

“What kind of bug was it?”

“…Spider.”

“Oh, you poor thing.”

From the sandy beach, they traverse into a greener environment, where the foliage grows dense, and the call of the native fauna grows shrill. The rainforest is warm. The flowers are beginning to bloom in colorful buds, signaling the imminent transition from the dregs of winter to the epoch of spring. Shuǐ brushes up against Jack’s shoulder on more than one occasion, her gaze busily flickering to the branches of every tree and shrub. The two of them lead the rest of the crew through the tangled roots and grass, and Shuǐ comes to believe that no one has been to this atoll in quite some time—or, at the very least, not the part they are trekking through.

“So, what d’you think?” Jack asks abruptly.

Shuǐ looks at him, and he continues, “Your dragon. Where would it be hiding? Or are we just going to stumble across it?”

“Oh. Well, I doubt it’s just out in the open. Otherwise, my father would’ve found it easily on his past journeys here,” she muses. “No, I’m sure we’re looking for a secret entrance to a hidden sanctuary. Something of that nature.”

“And then what? A series of tests we have to take to prove our worth? Maybe a legion of cursed statues we have to battle through to get to our prize?”

“That is how these things usually go, isn’t it?”

Jack grins at her, but they’re both quickly distracted by a yelp from behind. Shuǐ turns to see that Jia has tripped over a particularly large and mangled clump of vines and roots. “Are you alright?”

“My foot’s stuck,” Jia gripes as Bill goes to work cutting away the vines around her ankle. “Honestly, this whole patch is a death trap.”

“And this is the easy part,” Shuǐ jokes. She then notices that Jack is shaking the compass slightly. The needle has spun around again, and this time, it’s pointing toward the crew. “When did that happen?”

“Recently,” Jack mutters. “C’mon, go back to where you were.”

Shuǐ looks at the compass, and then in the direction it’s pointing. The rest of the crew is there, but so is that spot of vines. She steps forward, prompting Jack to step with her. “What?”

Shuǐ keeps walking, coming to a stop at the edge of the patch. At that, the needle begins circling incessantly. “Oh, wonderful. Now it’s completely broken,” Jack complains.

“I don’t think it is,” Shuǐ says, letting go of the compass and pulling a dagger out of her sleeve. “Help me tug these vines up.”

She goes to work. Once he’s cut Jia free, Bill joins Shuǐ in tearing the vines from the ground. The others soon comply, and after a bit of hard work Ragetti is the first to exclaim, “There’s stone here!”

Shuǐ abandons her task to see his discovery. Sure enough, there’s a slab of stone hidden underneath the growth, but that’s not all. There are markings carved into the smooth rock—markings, Shuǐ realizes with a huff, that she can’t decipher on her own. “Jack, what do you make of this?”

He kneels next to her and runs a hand over the markings, his eyes narrowing curiously. “Jack,” Barbossa calls over from where another section of stone has been revealed, “doesn’t this remind ye of a–”

“Piece of eight,” Jack agrees. He looks at the crew. “Get the rest of these vines out of the way.”

The excitement aids them in quickly removing the rest of the overgrown plants. Shuǐ looks over what their hard work has uncovered: a circular tablet of stone that, as Jack and Barbossa speculated, is carved in the design of a silver doubloon—a piece of eight. Jack stares at it, then crosses his arms. “Alright. We’ve got a big stone disc set in the ground. What now?”

Shuǐ crouches to get another close view of the designs. The piece of eight is carved crest side up. When she runs her hand over the symbol in the lower right quarter of the crest, her fingers find a small ridge, one that follows all the way around the segment of the piece of eight. After a moment of tracing the ridge, she puts her hand on the symbol and puts her weight on it.

As she hoped, it sinks slightly.

Eagerly, Shuǐ gets to her feet. “I need three of you to stand on those other three emblems,” she requests, stepping onto the one she’d been inspecting. “I don’t think this will work without four of us.”

The nearest men—Pintel, Gibbs, and Bill—start to come forward, but then Shuǐ steps off of her symbol. “Wait, wait. These things can be tricky. Let’s all step forward at the same time.”

They look at each other, and Bill nods. “On three, then?”

“One,” Shuǐ counts, “two…three!”

They step onto the crests in unison. Though the symbols sink, that’s all they do. Jia watches the stone slab, then looks up at Shuǐ with a raised brow. “Very impressive.”

“Why don’t you come over here and give it a try?” Shuǐ retorts.

The ground buckles beneath her, and the whole slab begins to sink into the soil. Shuǐ throws her hand up, searching for a ledge to grab. Instead, Jack takes it, preparing to hoist her out if he must.

But then the slab shakes, and it starts to transform into a winding set of stairs. The symbols she, Bill, Pintel, and Gibbs are standing on become steps as well. The stones eventually settle with a loud and distant thump. Shuǐ sighs with relief before turning to Jack, who’s still gripping her hand firmly. “I think it’s safe to go on now.”

Jack blinks, then lets go. “Right.”

They start to make torches, but when Pintel nearly trips down the stairs, a series of lanterns light themselves. As they carefully make their way below ground, Jia inquires in a hushed tone, “Does this corridor smell familiar to anyone else?”

Gibbs turns to her. “I was just thinkin’ that. Smells like–”

“Seawater,” Pintel and Ragetti comment in unison.

Shuǐ inhales deeply. That usual briny smell that almost burns her nose is present, for sure. There’s a pungent underlayer to it as well. “Seawater and fish,” she adds, glancing at Jack.

He doesn’t comment, but his brow furrows. When they reach the bottom of the stairs, they barely take more than a few steps before they’re faced with their next challenge—three separate passages laid out before them. When Jack and Shuǐ take out the compass again, the needle moves in an arc, pointing to all three openings. “Let me guess,” Barbossa begins dryly, “we’re splittin’ up?”

“Seems like the logical thing to do,” Jack states as he closes the compass. “Hector, you take a group down the far right. Gibbs, you take a group down the far left. Shuǐ and I will take the middle passage.”

Shuǐ looks at him curiously, then understands—he may be using this as an excuse for them to revisit their discussion from last night in private. Not everyone takes that hint, though, as Jia steps up. “Mister Turner and I will accompany you, then.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary,” Bill says, at the same time as Jack declares, “The more of us survive, the better.”

Jia doesn’t pay either of them any mind, turning instead to Shuǐ. She opens her mouth to agree with Jack, but Jia fixes her with a stern glare. Shuǐ gets the feeling that if she sends Jia with Barbossa or Gibbs, Jia will try to get herself killed just to spite her. So, she turns to Jack. “Whatever we face in there, it might take more than two of us to ward off.”

Jack looks at Shuǐ to argue, but she gives him a glare very similar to Jia’s, and he relents. “Alright. The four of us will take the middle passage.”

With that settled, they split off down their respective corridors. “What exactly are we expecting to be down here?” Jia questions, sticking close to Shuǐ.

“Anything,” Bill answers. “Booby traps, cursed objects, monstrous creatures—everything is fair game.”

“How lovely.” Jia pauses, then perks up. “Do you hear that?”

“No,” Jack grumbles, still put out, but Shuǐ grabs his arm to stop him from walking. Once their footsteps have ceased, the faint trickling of water echoes through the passage. Shuǐ looks at Jia, then searches the softly lit corridor for the source of the noise. Droplets of water seem to be dribbling from the cracks in the stone walls around them, and when she looks down, she sees that the water has begun to shallowly collect on the floor as well, seeping into her boots. As she stares at the pooling water, the trickling grows louder.

“We should run,” Bill suggests.

“Brilliant idea,” Jack agrees before taking off down the passageway.

Shuǐ swiftly follows him, grabbing Jia’s hand as she passes her. The splashing of their footsteps on the floor gives them an estimate of the pace at which the water is rising, and Shuǐ is relieved that the rate is slow—until the water begins to retreat behind them.

She catches sight of the huge wave collecting at the back of the passage just as Bill yells, “Up ahead!”

There’s another doorway at the end of the passage, but a stone door is slowly lowering, threatening to trap them with the oncoming flood. Shuǐ pushes Jia ahead of her, and Jack stops just in front of the entrance, gesturing wildly for them to hurry up.

Jia and Shuǐ clear it as the wave starts to barrel towards them, Bill ducks in soon after, and Jack slides through the slimming gap just in time, one hand keeping his hat firmly pinned to his head. The door lowers completely seconds before the wave slams into it. Jack rises and huffs appreciatively, confidence in his gait again as he begins to cross the room. “That wasn’t that bad.”

“Jack!”

Shuǐ barely manages to yank him out of the way of the dart that flies past his face. Jack eyes it warily where it has planted itself in the wall, then looks down. The tile he stepped on had sunk, much like the symbols of the crest did. “Spoke too soon,” Jack notes as he carefully steps back. “I assume this is our next obstacle.”

Shuǐ loosens her grip on his coat sleeve but keeps her hand on his arm. This room has a doorway at the other end, but between them and the next part of their journey is a tiled floor. The tiles have designs carved into them as well, and as Jack unwittingly demonstrated, stepping on the wrong one would result in a dart to the neck. She suspects the darts may also be poisoned, but hopefully, they won’t get the chance to test that.

Bill kneels to get a closer look at the carvings. “These are knots,” he realizes. “They’re different types of knots—the ones we use in sailing. Look, that one’s a bowline, and that over there is a reef knot, and–”

“Those aren’t knots,” Jack interrupts, pointing at another tile. It has a line of perfectly identical dashes set at angles carved into it. “Any idea what that’s s’posed to be?”

Bill peers at it and squints. “It seems familiar, but no.”

“It’s a zigzag stitch.”

They turn to Jia. She simply looks back at them and shrugs. “What? I use it all the time to sew up the damaged sails.”

Shuǐ tilts her head slightly. “What kind of knot was on the tile Jack stepped on?” she asks Bill.

“Uh, I believe it’s a type of decorative knot.”

“And one we wouldn’t use in sailing?”

Bill nods, and then his face lights up. He understands what she’s getting at. “Then we have our pattern,” Shuǐ continues. “We need to step on the tiles with knots and stitches used in sailing to get across safely.”

“And which poor soul is going to test that theory?” Jia questions sarcastically.

Shuǐ pauses and looks to Jack, who shrugs. “Don’t look at me. This room doesn’t like me.”

“I’ll test it,” Bill speaks up. “Discerning the knots won’t be too challenging. And the zigzag stitches are easy to distinguish from the rest.”

He steps up to the first line of tiles, and Shuǐ moves closer to him, just in case he steps on the wrong one. Bill studies the engravings before tentatively placing his foot on one with a figure eight knot. The tile sinks, but no darts fire. They all breathe a collective sigh of relief as Bill steps onto the next correct tile.

Shuǐ is the first to fall in line, slowly following the sunken tiles that Bill leaves in his path across the room. When she reaches the end, she looks over her shoulder to see Jia and Jack on her heels. Once they’ve made it safely across, Shuǐ looks at the next doorway. “What do we think that one will be? Venomous snakes?”

“Please don’t give the gods any ideas,” Jia gripes.

Once they’ve crossed the threshold, a block of stone slides across the doorway, closing them in. Shuǐ turns to narrow her eyes at it—that’s never a good sign—then stops when she sees that the door is inscribed with a message. “Follow Ursa Major,” Bill reads. “What do you suppose that means?”

As Shuǐ opens her mouth to add on, the lanterns die. Jia gasps at the sudden darkness and Shuǐ hears her quickly step back. Then Jia screams, much more alarmed. Shuǐ blindly grabs for her. “Jia! Where are you?”

“I’ve got her,” Jack assures her, and Jia’s shaking hand finds hers. When Shuǐ’s eyes adjust to the dim chamber, she can make out the outline of what Jia nearly fell into—an even darker pit.

Shuǐ grimaces and looks around. There’s no way of telling where the pits are placed until it’s too late. “The next door must be on the other side of the room. Maybe if we head in that direction from the center of where we started—ow, Bill, that was my foot!”

“Sorry, sorry,” he apologizes, sounding rushed. “I can barely see my own two feet.”

“What’d that message say?” Jack questions, his hand drifting across Shuǐ’s. She grabs it so she can keep track of where he is.

On her other side, Jia’s grip tightens. “Something about Ursa Major. I don’t see how that’s going to help us. There are no stars in here.”

“Yeah? Look up.”

Shuǐ turns in the direction of Jack’s voice, giving him a quizzical look. Still, she looks at the ceiling, and her eyes widen.

It looks like the night sky, but she could swear this chamber was closed in when they entered, and they couldn’t have been here long enough for the sun to have set. And yet, millions of stars gleam down on them. “The North Star is in the Ursa Major constellation,” Jack remarks. “They’re telling us that the exit is north of us.”

“We can follow the stars to it,” Bill realizes. “But it couldn’t be that easy, could it?”

Shuǐ feels Jack’s shoulder brush against hers as he shrugs. “We’ll just have to see, won’t we?”

Jia hums hesitantly but says nothing. Shuǐ quickly realizes that she’s become the tiebreaker, and with another look at the starry ceiling, she nods. “Lead the way, Captain.”

And so, they slowly make their way to the other side of the room in a line. Jack keeps a good hold on Shuǐ’s hand, especially when her boot slides on the edge of another pit. Jia ends up hooking her arm with Shuǐ’s after that scare. Before anyone else can almost fall to their death, Jack comes to a sudden halt, causing the other three to bump into each other. “Why did you stop?” Jia asks, annoyed.

“No, it’s alright, I’m perfectly fine,” Jack retorts, his voice slightly stifled. “I hit the wall.”

Sure enough, as he speaks, a panel of wall slides open, revealing the next chamber—which is, thankfully, well-lit. Once they file through, Shuǐ looks at Jack and sees that he has his hand up to his face. “Are you sure nothing’s injured?”

“Nothing but my pride,” he states, bringing his hand away and wiping it off on his coat. “We should concentrate on our newest problem.”

They’ve hit a dead end. Jia and Bill are inspecting the wall closing them in, and Jia looks back at Shuǐ and Jack. “There’s another engraving here. It looks like a compass.”

“Let me see. Maybe there’s a clue hidden in–” Shuǐ begins, only to feel the stone floor give way a few steps in. Jack swiftly hooks an arm around her waist and pulls her back, then yells at Bill, “Bootstrap! Can you try not to off my apprentice?”

Bill takes his hand off the stone he’d pressed into the wall. “Sorry, Miss Shuǐ.”

“It’s alright,” Shuǐ assures him, while Jack just huffs. “Honestly, mate, it’s a wonder you ever got married.”

Now that she’s out of the danger zone, Shuǐ redirects her gaze to the floor. The fallout that was triggered by the rock Bill pressed has revealed some sort of stone canal. It’s just large enough for a person to comfortably fit in, and water rushes powerfully through it. Jia walks over to lean down and peer at it. “If we’re supposed to get in that thing, I’m going to be very irked.”

“You’ll live,” Shuǐ replies dryly. “Besides, I’m not entirely sure that’s the objective.”

Jack eyes the canal, then pulls out his compass. “Love, if you would, please.”

Shuǐ holds the other side, and the needle instantly points north. “Follow Ursa Major,” he recites. “On that note, who’s going first?”

Jia instantly steps away from the canal, and Bill suddenly becomes interested in the still-intact stones on the floor. Shuǐ turns to Jack, who raises an eyebrow at her. “Oh, fine, I’ll go,” she gripes, pulling away from him. “I’ll yell back to you when I’ve reached the end, so you’ll know it's safe.”

“And if you don’t?” Jia questions nervously.

“Then I’m probably dead,” Shuǐ says casually, “but that’s not going to happen. Somebody hold my bow.”

Bill takes it from her, and Jack offers her a hand to support herself as she steps down into the canal. Shuǐ slips slightly as she starts to sit, the water piling up behind her—the bottom of the canal is covered in seaweed and algae, which she decides not to disclose to Jia. She holds the edges of the floor’s opening to keep herself in place, her other hand beckoning to Bill. “Bow, please.”

As she takes it from him, holding it across her chest, Jack leans down. “You know this could lead you straight to the dragon, right?”

“Isn’t that what we’re hoping for?” Shuǐ inquires while she readjusts her grip.

“I meant it more in a ‘being eaten’ sense, love.”

Shuǐ looks at him, then grins. “Is that a hint of concern for my wellbeing, Captain?”

“Well, I would like to finish our talk before you decide to go and get yourself killed,” Jack counters, but he doesn’t sound as cutting as he might’ve intended to be.

“You’ll get your chance. I’ll see you in a moment.”

With that, Shuǐ pulls herself forward and lets go of the floor’s edge, allowing the rushing water to carry her away. The buildup behind her causes her to pick up speed quickly, and she can’t help but laugh excitedly as the canal winds one way, then another, before finally settling straight again.

She only sees the underground lagoon as the canal suddenly drops off, and she plunges straight into the water. Shuǐ resists the urge to inhale through her nose and kicks her way to the surface, gasping as she breaks through. Once she’s caught her breath, she turns back to the canal’s opening. “It’s safe!” she shouts, though she’s not sure if anyone will hear her. “It drops into a lagoon! We must be getting close!”

When no response comes, Shuǐ looks around the cavern she plummeted into. It’s lit by more torches, and there’s a small beach set against large, misshapen boulders. Shuǐ narrows her eyes curiously and slings her bow over her back again, swimming toward the shallower water.

As she reaches the point where she can comfortably stand, she hears a scream echoing from the canal before a splash causes the water to ripple. Shuǐ turns to see Jia surfacing and shaking her head back and forth. “I think next time I’ll volunteer to stay with the ship,” Jia states as she paddles toward Shuǐ, coughing slightly.

Shuǐ smiles at her, then looks up when she hears two subsequent splashes. Jack wrings out his hat as he plods through the water, then places it back on his head. “Well, either we’re all dead, or this actually worked.”

“Where do you think the others have gone?” Bill questions, rolling up his sleeves.

The gritty rumble of another stone door opening prompts Shuǐ to reach for her quiver. However, Gibbs and Barbossa are the ones who step out, followed by the rest of the crew. “There you are! We’ve been searchin’ all over for you!”

“Weren’t there three passages? How did you all regroup?” Shuǐ asks as they join the others on the sandy beach.

“The other two paths converged again, once we made our way through a labyrinth” Barbossa reports. “We spent an awful lot of time waitin’ for ye to join us.”

Jack squints at him. “Wait. You lot didn’t run into any of those puzzle chamber things?”

“Any what?”

Jia purses her lips and turns to Shuǐ. “I’m definitely staying with the ship next time.”

“It doesn’t matter how we got here,” Shuǐ refutes. “The point is, we’re here and our dragon isn’t. But whoever put those obstacles in place must have something of value. There isn’t much space to hide, so this must be another test we have to pass before we get to it.”

“How’re we s’posed to do that?” Pintel asks. “There’s nothin’ here but rocks.”

“See, you only say that because you haven’t faced what we did,” Jack declares, walking to the large boulders. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the past hour—or however long we’ve been here—it is that nothing here is as it seems. All we have to do is look closely at our surroundings, and we’re guaranteed to be out of here well before our three-day deadline. Victory is closer than you think.”

As Jack concludes, he places a hand against one of the boulders, leaning on it. After a moment, his grin falters. His brow furrows. “This rock is breathing.”

“Yeah,” Shuǐ says, her eyes locked on the teal iris staring her down. “It’s looking at us, too.”

Chapter Text

A thunderous growl rings throughout the cavern as Jack all but throws himself away from the mighty beast rising to its haunches. The boulders twist and uncoil themselves until the scales finally shift from pebble grey to a shining seafoam color. The fins on its head raise, inflating like the hood of a cobra beneath its curved horns. Its ivory claws dig into the shifting sand, and it bares its similarly colored teeth at them before releasing a screeching roar that rattles the borders of the cavern, bits of loose rocks falling from the roof onto the beach below.

Shuǐ stares at the behemoth before them, then says to Jack, “Well, we found it. Now we’re running, right?”

“Yeah, we’re running,” Jack agrees, turning on his heel. “Men—and you other two! Back to the ship!”

But the passage in the wall has closed, and there’s no way out. “To the water!” Gibbs shouts. “Dragons can’t breathe fire in the water!”

Shuǐ opens her mouth to stop him, but she has to quickly evade the dragon’s claws as it tramps toward the lagoon's edge. She dives out of the way, rolling to a stop in the sand. When she feels safe enough to glance up, she sees the dragon guzzling down water. Its head rises, and its webbed fins spread again as it darts the water back out at the crew. Ragetti ducks as one burst lands behind him, then shrieks. “It’s scalding!”

Satisfied with driving the intruders into the lagoon, the dragon directs its attention to those still on the beach. Shuǐ dashes for cover as a heavy claw comes her way. Bill grabs her arm from behind a rock and pulls her out of harm's way just in time—a blast of boiling water comes rocketing past a moment later. “That’s an odd dragon if I’ve ever seen one,” he states. “I always thought they had wings.”

Pintel, who’s also behind the rock, scowls. “It’s not a dragon. She’s led us straight to a sea serpent!”

“It can’t be a sea serpent,” Shuǐ retorts. “Serpents don’t have legs.”

“And dragons don’t breathe water!”

“Move!” Bill shouts.

Shuǐ looks up to see the dragon’s maw opening. The three of them lunge for safety as their hiding spot is singed. Once out of harm’s way, Shuǐ tugs her bow off her back. If she could at least harm the beast, it might give them an opening to find a way out of here. As she reaches for an arrow, the dragon lifts its neck to spread its fins again, and Shuǐ squints at it.

It’s a brief glimpse—she’s not even certain of what she’s seen—but it looks like a collar. An iron collar hidden beneath its fins; something one would keep a prisoner in. But there are no chains, so what’s the purpose of the collar?

Then, as she watches the dragon change directions and go after Pintel again, she notices that it abruptly stops and jerks back before it gets too close to the beach’s boundary. It shakes its head, then finds a new target. It reminds her of when the livestock in Singapore had to deal with all the battling on its shores; how distraught they would get and the way they would shake with frustration.

Shuǐ narrows her eyes and gets to her feet. When she searches for Jack in the mess of it all, she spots Barbossa hiding behind another boulder, loading his pistol with gunpowder and eyeing the unprotected underbelly of the beast.

“Barbossa!” she yells, but there’s no way he can hear her in the chaos. Shuǐ looks frantically from him to the dragon—there’s no time to explain her suspicions. Instead, she weaves between the dragon’s pounding claws, barely avoiding its swinging tail. When Barbossa finally stands and aims for the beast’s neck, Shuǐ tackles him from behind and tugs him back. “Don’t!”

“What daftness is this, lass?” Barbossa snaps, but the damage is done. The bullet flies off course and hits the dragon on one of its horns. It screeches and fixes its fierce gaze on them, steam billowing from its nostrils. Shuǐ sees her opportunity and shoves Barbossa safely out of the way, waving her hands and whistling. “Here, girl! Come and get me!”

“Shuǐ, what the hell are you doing?!” Jia shouts at her, but Shuǐ keeps her attention on the dragon. She circles to the beast’s front, closer to the shore of the small beach. As she’d hoped, it roars and charges after her, completely ignoring Barbossa. Shuǐ almost trips as she backs into the water, but she manages to keep her balance. “That’s it. Just a little closer, c’mon.”

The dragon slows as she does, its eyes narrowing while it stalks its prey. “Love–” Shuǐ hears Jack call to her, but she interrupts, her gaze never leaving. “Stay back! I need you to see this!”

The dragon growls and dives just as Shuǐ feels her back hit the cavern wall. She shuts her eyes tightly, bracing for an attack.

But it never comes. When she opens her eyes, the dragon is straining, gnashing its teeth at her, swiping its claws. But it never gets close enough to harm her, even though she can feel the heat of its breath and the spray of its spittle. She can even see the desperation in its eyes. Something is holding it back—something they can’t see. It thrashes for a bit longer until its legs give out, and it slumps down again with a distinctly distressed rumble.

With the monster having given up for now, the rest of the crew crowds around Shuǐ as she edges out from between the cavern wall and the dragon’s snout. “Dear God,” Gibbs mutters, eyeing the dragon warily. “How in the blazes did you get it to surrender?”

“I didn’t,” Shuǐ admits, pulling away from Jia’s bone-crushing hug. “She’s been chained up.”

She steps up to the dragon’s neck and cups some water in her hands, then tosses it towards the beast. Some of the water falls naturally, but other droplets seem to settle and hang in midair. Shuǐ reaches out and feels something cold and solid—iron links. Chains.

Jack steps up next to her and reaches to feel them, too. “What d’you know? They’re invisible. Somebody got here before us, after all.”

Shuǐ frowns and finds a place for both her hands on the chain. “Give me a boost up.”

“What? Why?”

“We can’t just leave her like this. She’s collared, too, but that’s not invisible—we can find a way to break it off.”

Jack eyes her with an expression she can’t decipher. He seems like he’s going to say something, but Barbossa cuts in before he can. “We are not settin’ that thing loose. It would kill us all if we did.”

“You don’t know that,” Shuǐ begins, but Jia interjects, too. “It just tried to eat you, Shuǐ!”

She gives Jia a look. “I wouldn’t be awfully keen on visitors if I were chained up, either. All we have to do is unlock the collar. It can’t be that hard.”

“And make it easier for it to attack us?” Barbossa asks dryly. “A brilliant plan, Miss Sao. Allow me to propose one of my own—we should head back to the Pearl and leave this godforsaken creature as it is while we still can.”

Some of the crew murmurs in agreement. Shuǐ narrows her eyes at Barbossa and steps forward. “Who do you think did this to her in the first place? She wasn’t born with chains around her throat. It certainly wasn’t the Royal Navy who found this place, or there’d be a British flag hanging from her horns. Any self-respecting explorer would have published her in a book already. And no matter who the culprit was, this much is clear: someone invaded her home and shackled her like a criminal. For what? Defending herself against trespassers? Protecting the treasures entrusted to her?”

Barbossa glares right back, but he doesn’t say anything. Shuǐ turns her attention to the crew. “I don’t see why you’re all so squeamish about her. You’re pirates. The sea has brought you everything you’ve desired—riches, fame, freedom. And that ‘godforsaken creature’ is the sea,” she declares, pointing at the fallen dragon. “She is your freedom. You finally have a chance to repay her for all she’s done for you. Are you really going to leave her like this?”

But despite her best efforts, it seems her words haven’t taken root. The other men still look hesitant. They’re glancing at Barbossa, who is stone-faced. Bill is holding back, unsure of what to do or who to side with. Even Jia vehemently shakes her head when Shuǐ turns to her for support.

Shuǐ grimaces and turns around, going back to the dragon. “Fine. Help me or don’t. I’m not leaving until she’s been freed.”

When she gets back to Jack, he tries to speak again, but she cuts him off. “Don’t try to stop me, Jack.”

Shuǐ reaches for the invisible chains and prepares to hoist herself onto the dragon’s neck. When she does, a hand suddenly pushes up on the sole of her boot.

Jack helps to lift her all the way. The dragon growls quietly when Shuǐ slings a leg over it, but it doesn’t rise. She looks at Jack, confused. “Why did you–”

“You wanted a boost,” he reminds her.

“Yes, but–” Shuǐ glances up at the rest of the crew, who look equally staggered. She looks at Jack again, dropping her voice just a bit. “You’re not leaving?”

Jack shrugs. “Well, for my part, I found your speech rather moving. Very captainly. Not especially persuasive, but it’s a start.”

Shuǐ gives him a look, but before she can refocus, he clears his throat. “And I suppose—you could say that—I might have, uh, what one would call…”

Shuǐ turns to him, waiting expectantly. With his words failing him, Jack gestures vaguely for a while, then huffs and finally says, “I would miss you terribly if you were to be eaten. There, I said it.”

Shuǐ stares at him for a moment, then smiles—a genuine, warm smile that spreads across her face. She’s honestly a bit flattered. “Really?”

“It would also reflect horribly on my otherwise spotless record,” Jack adds, though her contagious smile has him grinning, too. “Don’t get any ideas.”

“Oh, of course not, Captain. Keep her calm. I’ll see if I can pick the lock on the collar.”

As Shuǐ scoots forward, she realizes that the keyhole on this particular collar isn’t as big as she thought it’d be. Still, she pulls out the hairpin keeping her ponytail in place, letting her hair cascade down her shoulders as she places the thin end of the hairpin into the keyhole. It’s clear why Jack had trouble with it when he was trying to break into her father’s treasure storage—the hairpin is just the slightest too wide to fit in the keyhole completely, and it doesn’t have the appropriate notches to move the pins inside around.

She purses her lips, then hears: “Shuǐ, catch!”

Shuǐ looks up and grabs a set of keys that’s tossed up to her. Bill climbs onto the dragon’s neck and settles next to her. “That’s my lockpicking set. It may be able to help.”

She grins and nods, then turns to Jack. “Jack, see what you can do about the chains. If we can’t get the collar off, we can at least do away with those.”

“Alright. Hector, Gibbs, get over here and help already!” he orders.

Bill takes his lockpicks back and starts trying each on the keyhole. Shuǐ looks at the other side of the collar—there must be another chain on the link, but if she can’t see them, it’ll be difficult to unhook them. “Bill, do you have any gunpowder on you?” she asks.

“Yeah, but it’s all wet.”

“That’s fine. May I have it?”

Bill hands over the small flask of gunpowder. Shuǐ pours some into her palm, then smears the gunpowder on the chains, making them visible. Now that she has something to work with, she starts trying to remove them from the collar. They’re quite heavy, though, and time has set them firmly in place. “Jack, if you’ve got enough hands over there, I could use some help.”

She doesn’t get a response, but when she raises her head to repeat herself, she sees Jack cautiously passing the dragon’s snout with a mutter of, “Don’t eat me.”

“It didn’t have to be you,” Shuǐ says, though she’s pleased that it is.

“You get what you ask for,” Jack replies as he tugs on the chains. “Damn, these things are strong.”

Shuǐ joins him, grunting when her stitched shoulder strains from the effort. Before she can worry about possibly tearing her wound open again, though, Bill exclaims, “I’ve got it!” and the collar clicks open.

Which is good. But Shuǐ was using it to keep herself from falling off the dragon’s neck.

She yelps as her support gives way and she tumbles straight into Jack. He cushions most of her fall, but she still finds herself rubbing sand out of her eyes when she sits up. “Y’know, it’s a good thing you can fight,” Jack tells her, still lying in the sand, “because you’re terrible at the whole damsel-in-distress thing.”

Shuǐ shoots him an amused look, but her attention is swiftly recaptured as a low growl echoes in her ears. She turns and comes face to face with the dragon, standing at full height once more. It watches her carefully, still rumbling in its throat. Jack finally sits up and puts his arm in front of Shuǐ, as though he’s holding her back—or protecting her.

The dragon stares at them, then huffs, blowing steam from its nostrils into their faces. When it rumbles again, the sound is lighter. Shuǐ wipes her face and smiles at it. “You’re welcome.”

“Does her gratitude have to be so moist?” Jack complains, shaking his hands back and forth. “I was just getting dry.”

The dragon picks its head up again and steps around them. It stops in front of the back of the cavern, where the sand of the beach meets the stone. The dragon inhales deeply, the fins on its head fanning out, then jets a stream of water at the wall. Shuǐ stands and watches in awe as the water travels into etched lines that begin to glow blue. They shape themselves in waves, and the stone crumbles like a cascade, revealing another cave.

Piled in the corners are heaps and heaps of gold and silver, long-forgotten valuables and artifacts. Scattered throughout the cavern are clusters of naturally grown crystals. Jack grabs his hat from where it had fallen and reaffixes it to his head. “Is that meant to be an invitation?”

The dragon pauses, then looks back at them and snorts, as though it understood the question. “I’ll take that as a yes,” Jack says, following the beast.

The rest of the crew is eager to plunder, as well. Shuǐ watches as they occupy themselves with the riches before them. But she sets her sights on the dragon, now standing on its hind claws. Its front talons brace against the cave’s ledges for support as it butts its head against the ceiling. A plethora of trees are growing upside down, bearing fruits that Shuǐ’s never seen before. When the dragon knocks its head against one of these trees, the fruit drops to the ground. Shuǐ catches one and looks it over curiously. It’s red and orange, and hot—it’s like holding a warm fire in her hands.

The dragon comes back to the ground with an earth-shuddering thump and immediately starts eating all the fruit that had fallen. With every different fruit, its scales shift in color. Shuǐ looks at the fruit in her hands, then hesitantly takes a bite. A burst of sweet spiciness and a rush of warmth hits her the moment she does. The fruit is giving off heat, rather than matching the temperature of its environment.

Shuǐ hums thoughtfully and looks at the dragon. “Excuse me?”

The dragon bows its head to her with a puff of steam. “I don’t know how willing you are to give these up,” she says, “but we’ll be making a rather treacherous journey in the next few weeks, and I think these could be a great help in keeping us all from freezing to death. Would you mind if–”

Shuǐ barely finishes her sentence when the dragon slams its tail against the cave’s wall. More of the hot fruits fall, and the dragon huffs again before trudging away. Shuǐ grins, then calls across the cave, “Jia! May I borrow your bag?”

…

They return to the Black Pearl with all the treasure and odd fruits they can carry. The dragon had been kind enough to show them an easier path to the surface, which greatly reduced their trek back to the beach. Now that they’ve cast off, most everyone is enjoying the spoils of the adventure.

Shuǐ goes looking for Jack.

She finds him on the deck, watching as the atoll fades on the horizon. He’s looking at his compass, but he quickly shuts it when Shuǐ approaches. “There you are. So, how does victory feel?”

“Same as always,” Shuǐ admits as she tosses him one of the hot fruits. “Catch.”

Jack does, and he eyes the fruit warily. “What’s this supposed to be?”

“It’s a fruit. Not poisonous, I assure you.”

“Is it an apple? If it’s an apple, you’d have better luck pawning it off on Hector. He has a thing for apples.”

“It’s not an apple. I’m not sure what it is.”

“Why is it warm? I don’t like that.”

Shuǐ raises an eyebrow, biting back a smile. “Jack, don’t you think if I was going to kill you, I’d have done it already?”

“Touché,” Jack agrees. Still, he takes the smallest bite he can—and then he narrows his eyes, taken aback.

“They give off their own heat,” Shuǐ explains as he holds the fruit away to examine it. “I collected as many as I could in the cave. We should have more than enough to get us through the Drake Passage as long as we ration them properly.”

Jack nods and takes another bite of the fruit. “Clever. You’re working your way up to a promotion.”

“Promotion to what?” Shuǐ questions, genuinely curious.

Jack tosses the hot fruit from hand to hand, then shakes his head. “I don’t think I can say any of the words I’m thinking without you getting mad at me.”

Shuǐ scoffs playfully as she rests her arms on the taffrail, watching the setting sun paint the sky in shades of pink. After a moment, Jack speaks again, as though he’s just realized something. “You didn’t get your proof.”

“Hm?”

“Y’know, you said you were going to get a scale or a tooth or something to show Sao Feng that you got to his sought-after dragon first,” Jack recalls. “You didn’t.”

Shuǐ looks at him, then puts her chin in her hand. “We can’t tell anyone she exists. The person who got to Kiribati before we did chained the poor thing up. The next might do something even worse, and that includes my father. Besides,” she continues, her voice going quiet, “I don’t owe him anything. Especially not this.”

She gazes at the ocean, and Jack leans against the taffrail next to her. “Well, you’re either more mature than I am or softer than I am, because I would be rubbing it in my father’s face for the rest of my life no matter the consequences.”

“It’s the former,” Shuǐ tells him, though a grin creeps onto her face.

“Perhaps, love.”

Shuǐ giggles and turns to look at him. There’s an awful lot she wants to say to Jack—thanking him for risking his life to help her when no one else did, for one, and there’s still what’s left unsaid from their conversation last night—but the words don’t fully come to her. Jack keeps his eyes on the horizon, then glances at her when he realizes she’s staring. “What?”

“Oh—nothing.”

“Doesn’t seem like nothing, love.”

“Well, it is.”

Jack raises his brows at her, clearly not buying it. Shuǐ looks down at her fingers, tapping them against the taffrail. “I just wanted to thank you. For staying. And I’m not very good at it, because I haven’t had a lot of people worth thanking. So, thank you.”

“Did you get switched out with an identical twin while we were on the island?” Jack questions abruptly. “You’re never this nice to me.”

She gives him a look, and he grins. “Ah, there she is. You’re entirely welcome, love.”

“Well, there was more, but now I’m not sure you deserve to hear it.”

“No, by all means, go on. You have my full attention.”

Shuǐ rolls her eyes but continues. “Regarding last night–”

“Cap’n!” Pintel shouts as he approaches, Ragetti on his heels. “You’re wanted at the helm.”

“Can I get five bloody minutes to myself without one of you interrupting me?” Jack snaps, glaring at both of them.

Ragetti blinks, confused. “You’re not by yourself, though. You’re with Miss Shuǐ.”

“I’d like five minutes with her, too. Tell Hector we’re going south.”

“Jack, we can revisit this,” Shuǐ interjects.

Jack turns on her. “I don’t want to revisit it. I want to discuss it as soon as possible.”

“Well, that’s one of the negatives of being captain, isn’t it? You don’t get what you want all the time,” Shuǐ points out, patting him on the cheek. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

As she walks away, Jack glowers at Pintel and Ragetti. “Excellent job. You’ve ruined a perfectly good moment. You know how rare those are?”

“I wouldn’t say that. You and Miss Shuǐ seem to have a lot of those moments,” Ragetti states.

Jack opens his mouth to argue, but when no words come to his defense, he just grumbles and heads for the helm. Pintel watches him, then looks at Ragetti. “D’you reckon the Cap’n fancies Miss Shuǐ?”

Ragetti slowly turns to him. “…Did you just catch on to that?”

Chapter Text

“Jack, will ye stop fussin’ with Miss Sao’s hair and roll for yer turn already?”

“No,” Jack replies bluntly, returning his attention to the glass bead he’s threading onto Shuǐ’s braid. “I just need another minute…”

Shuǐ reaches for the cup of dice without moving her head too much. “I’ll roll for him.”

“Oh, great. Now he’ll have the lowest number,” Gibbs groans.

“It’s not my fault I have impeccable luck gambling,” she states as the dice fall onto the table. She gets three threes right off the bat—which in this game, Jack explained to her, means she has three zeroes. Barbossa grumbles when Shuǐ rolls again and gets a two before rolling another zero. “The score to beat is now two.”

Jack finally ties off Shuǐ’s braid again and puts the dice back into the cup. “Thank you kindly, love. Shame you won’t be able to win.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. I haven’t rolled for my turn yet,” Shuǐ retorts. She turns the cup over, and the dice tumble across the table. Two zeroes.

Gibbs raises his eyebrows as Shuǐ snatches them up. “‘Fraid you might’ve jinxed yourself, Cap’n.”

Jack scoffs, though he doesn’t look nearly as confident as before. “She’s not done.”

Shuǐ grins and rolls for her last three dice. They spin and flip—she gets two more zeroes and a one. “Oh, for God’s sake,” Jack gripes. “Are these die weighted?”

“I win again!” Shuǐ places her hand in the middle of the table, beckoning at Gibbs and Barbossa. “Pay up.”

Barbossa rolls his eyes and hands over a chunk of crystal he’d taken from the dragon’s cave. “Remind us never to gamble with ye in the future.”

“Look on the bright side. Now you can trick some other naïve soul into wagering against me,” Shuǐ points out while Gibbs passes her a pouch of shillings. “And I’ll take this, Jack.”

She swipes his hat and places it on her head. “Why bother?” Jack asks grumpily. “There’s no one to captain right now.”

He’s right. The others are off gathering supplies in the port market, whereas Shuǐ was invited to join the other three for drinks and gambling at one of the taverns, a decision they surely regret now that she’s won the last few games of Threes. “There’s you all, and I prefer that. Especially since I get to throw orders in Barbossa’s face for once.”

Barbossa gives her a look, then turns to Jack. “How long is this goin’ to last?”

“Hector, you know better,” Jack scolds, pointing at Shuǐ. “Direct all questions to the captain.”

Gibbs chuckles. “You got over that quick.”

They hear the tavern door open and close, and footsteps quickly approach their table. Shuǐ looks up to see Jia, Pintel, and Ragetti rushing over, all three looking awfully excited. “Cap’n, we’ve got somethin’ you should see!” Pintel announces proudly.

Jack jerks his thumb at Shuǐ again. “I’m off-duty. She’s captain right now.”

Jia has already handed Shuǐ what appears to be a letter. “Here. I snatched it from the pocket of some wealthy-looking sailor.”

Shuǐ starts to read it in silence. Then, realizing the company she’s in, decides to read it aloud. “To the Venerated Admiral Antoine De Witte–”

“Ugh, even his name is sickeningly fancy,” Jack mutters.

“Yes, it is—as a loyal benefactor of the House of Trade, you are cordially invited to–”

“What’s a benefactor?” Pintel interrupts.

“Someone who gives other people money. Anyways, you are cordially invited to the–”

“And what’s the House of Trade?” Jia questions.

“It’s the Spaniards’ version of the East India Trading Company,” Jack states.

Shuǐ folds up the letter and glares at them. “Do you want me to read this or not?”

“You’re quite right, love. Carry on.”

She gives Jack a look but continues. “You are cordially invited to an auction at the Gallego Estate in Valdivia. Please send ahead whatever wares you would like to include in the sale. Refreshments will be provided. Best wishes, Leoncio Romero, Trade Representative.”

When she looks up from the parchment, Jia is staring at her expectantly. “…Alright. What do we care about any of this?” Shuǐ asks, though the question is more directed at Jia than anyone else.

“Because it is an auction that rich people are sending their finest commodities to in the hope that they will fetch them a pretty penny,” Jia explains. “What better place to plunder?”

“Valdivia is on the way to Cape Horn,” Gibbs points out.

“Yes, but this auction is being held inside an estate. We’d never be able to get in, much less find where they’re keeping the goods,” Shuǐ reasons. “We’re not exactly the most conspicuous crew.”

Jack takes the letter and his hat from her. “Maybe not. But it would give us some extra coinage to spend on supplies for the Drake Passage.”

Shuǐ purses her lips but nods. She gets the feeling she’s outnumbered already. It’s not worth putting up a fight right now. “There’d be no harm in seeing what kind of plan we could cook up, I suppose.”

“Precisely. Round up the crew; we have a new itinerary!”

They gather around the capstan on the deck the next morning. Jack sets some of his charts down and crosses his arms. “To briefly recap what was discussed last night, since I’m sure half of us were too sloshed to listen, Miss Jia has discovered that there will be an auction held in one of the Spaniards’ port towns. We’re going to see if we can cause some havoc. Now, Shuǐ made a very good point about the difficulties of us getting into the estate, but Mister Gibbs thinks he has found a solution. Gibbs?”

The crew turns to Gibbs as he clears his throat. “I was in the service of the Navy for a minute, so I know the types of houses they’re talkin’ about in this letter. There should be a way to get to the cellar from the outside, and then we could sneak up from there,” he tells them.

“There’s still the issue of getting to the merchandise,” Shuǐ states. “We’d need to know where it was, and even if we could manage that, we’d still have to have the right timing to not be caught. The only way we’d get both of those things is if we had a man on the inside, which we don’t.”

Some other members of the crew mumble in agreement. Jia looks at the charts, then turns to Shuǐ. “Well, couldn’t you and I do that?”

“Sorry, what?”

“We could be on the inside,” Jia clarifies. “We could pretend to be guests. Then we can tell whoever’s in the cellar where the treasure is.”

Shuǐ raises an eyebrow. Where has this thirst for adventure come from? And why couldn’t Jia have applied it to an endeavor Shuǐ might have found even mildly enjoyable? “We don’t have an invitation. I imagine they’ll be checking a list for that very reason.”

“So we’ll make a fuss. And we’ll bring something to auction off. They can’t turn us away then.”

“D’ye really believe the Spanish will allow two unchaperoned women into their auction, Miss Liang?” Barbossa questions dryly. “Let alone two of the East?”

Shuǐ nods in agreement. “Not that I appreciate his tone, but Barbossa has a point. And it’s not like this lot is going to blend in at one of these events.”

Jack gives her a look. “I’ll have you know that I can be very proper when the situation calls for it.”

“You’ll probably have to wear a powdered wig,” she points out.

“…Never mind.”

“I’d accompany you,” Gibbs begins, “but I fear there’s a risk of me bein’ recognized. That would ruin the plot before it ever began.”

Jia hums thoughtfully as she turns to Bill. He doesn’t realize immediately that she’s looking at him, but when he does finally glance up, he points at himself. “Me? Really?”

“You’re the only other man on this ship with manners,” Jia states. “Of course, we’d have to find you something to wear.”

“We don’t have anything to wear,” Shuǐ reminds her, gesturing at herself and Jia.

“Oh, you know me better than that. I packed us each a set of formal clothes.”

Shuǐ does her best not to glare at her. “How fortunate.”

After he folds up his charts, Jack claps his hands together. “Then it’s settled. We’re off to Valdivia, and Bootstrap, Shuǐ, and Miss Jia will be our men—man and women—on the inside. Gibbs, set a course. The rest of you get back to work.”

The rest of the crew disperses, but Shuǐ grabs Jia’s arm before she can leave. “What are you doing?” she asks in a hushed voice.

Jia blinks innocently. “Whatever do you mean?”

“You were very adamant about staying on the ship the next time we decided to go treasure-hunting. Why the sudden change of heart?”

“Well, it’s not like we’re going to be chased by a dragon at an auction,” Jia points out. “This is much more my speed.”

Shuǐ nods. “Agreed. You should go in, and I’ll hang back.”

“What? No!”

“Jia, please, you’re so much better at these stuffy formal events than I am. You and Bill will be just fine by yourselves.”

“But neither of us can sneak weapons in,” Jia states. “Not as easily as you can. Besides, you’ll want to be there to retrieve your sword.”

Shuǐ raises an eyebrow and crosses her arms. “What does my sword have to do with this?”

“…I was going to use it as our offering for the auction.”

“What?”

Shuǐ’s exclamation catches the attention of some passing crewmates, and she glares at them. “Move along.”

“We wouldn’t let it get taken, of course,” Jia assures her. “But between the two of us, it’s the most valuable thing we have to bid.”

“Jia, Bo bestowed that sword to me,” Shuǐ says firmly. “If I lost it—and to an auction of all things—I’d never forgive myself.”

Jia seems to back down at the mention of Shuǐ’s eldest brother, but then she steels herself. “I know. But I swear on everything I hold dear; nothing will happen to it.”

Shuǐ purses her lips, then sighs through gritted teeth. “Fine.”

“We’ll be alright,” Jia tells her, resting her hands on Shuǐ’s shoulders. “And we’ll get a massive payload out of it. You’ll see.”

With that, Jia goes off to prepare lunch. Shuǐ watches her and grimaces to herself. It’s not that the payload wouldn’t be appreciated—she just doesn’t want to deal with the crowd they’re infiltrating. They’ll be too vulnerable to attack when the tides change. Especially if it means she has to wear a dress.

Well, it’s her own fault that Jia’s become so stubborn. She should’ve expected this.

…

Shuǐ stares at herself in the mirror Jia borrowed from Jack’s quarters. After almost three months at sea, where she’s been free to wear whatever is most comfortable for her, putting on her formal robes had become unfamiliar to her. The sleeves hang over her hands. It’ll make it easier to discreetly slip a dagger from the wrist sheaths on her arms, but it’s not like she can fit many daggers on herself in this hanfu, anyway. She’s preemptively sharpened the decorative hairpins holding her updo in place, yet even those will only be useful in close combat.

She feels more exposed to harm like this than she ever does in battle.

“Shuǐ!”

Nearly jumping out of her skin, Shuǐ turns to Jia, startled. Jia is wearing formal robes as well, but she looks much more at ease. She’s managed to twist her shorter hair in a way that makes it look like a tucked bun. “What?”

“The others are ready for us. Are you finished?” Jia asks.

Shuǐ’s jaw tightens slightly, but she nods. This is the part she’s least looking forward to. Of course, Bill was always going to accompany them, but now Gibbs and Jack are the ones retrieving whatever they deem valuable, and Pintel and Ragetti are staying with the rowboat so they can all make an easy getaway. For as long as she’s been on the ship, she can’t trust that their judgment of her won’t be swayed if they see her dressed like a “proper” lady.

She hopes this heist doesn’t cost her the position she holds on the Black Pearl.

When they get to the deck, Shuǐ makes a beeline for where Bill and Jack are looking over the taffrail—likely watching as Gibbs, Pintel, and Ragetti are preparing the rowboat. Bill glances up when she and Jia approach. “Woah. You two look–”

“Feminine, yes, what a shock,” Shuǐ states crossly. She catches Jack looking her up and down and turns to him. “Enjoy it while it lasts, because after this, I’m burning all of my formal clothes.”

He shrugs. “Mm, I’ve seen you in better.” Jack pauses, then reaches out, his fingers brushing the beaded braid he’d given her—Shuǐ outright refused when Jia suggested taking it out. “I do like this part, though.”

Shuǐ gazes at him for a moment, her harsh front softening slightly. “Let’s get a move on. We won’t want to be late,” Jia says as she begins climbing down the ladder.

Jack nods and gestures for Shuǐ to follow. Once they’re all settled, they untie themselves from the Black Pearl and set off toward the coast. “So, do we remember the plan?” Jack asks.

“While us three get inside the estate, you and Mister Gibbs will find your way to the cellar,” Bill recalls, readjusting the cravat around his neck. “As soon as we know where the goods are being stored and when the auction will start, one of us will come to relay the information to you. Then all we have to do is retrieve the wealth and get back to the boat.”

“Thank God. I’d completely forgotten the plan,” Jack admits, leaning back and nudging Gibbs. “Isn’t it nice to have people you can rely on?”

Shuǐ refrains from snorting as they pull up next to the docks. The estate is visible from there; Barbossa had gone with Ragetti and Pintel to do a preliminary exploration that morning, and they’d decided this was the best spot to stay out of sight. “We’ll see you in a few hours,” Shuǐ says to them as Bill is helping her out of the boat. “Remember, silence is key. Don’t get caught.”

“You look pretty today, Miss Shuǐ,” Ragetti compliments as she turns to leave.

She stiffens at first, then nods awkwardly. “Thank you.”

They split off from Jack and Gibbs and make their way around to the front of the estate. As they approach the front doors, Shuǐ feels her heart rate pick up, matching the pace of the uneasy thoughts rushing through her mind. The box under her arm, which holds her sword, seems to dig into her healing wound—Jia had taken the stitches out of her shoulder before they’d dressed. She hopes it won’t add strain to her already-hindered combat.

When they step up to the doorman, he doesn’t even glance at them. “Name?” he requests dismissively, striking lines on his list.

“William Turn—Turnbill,” Bill states, and Jia very nearly ruins the whole thing when she stomps on his foot. “And these are the Princesses Shuǐ and Jia. We’re here for the auction.”

When they came up with that disguise, Shuǐ thought it was overshot, but now she believes it was the right move. The more important they seem, the harder it will be to turn them away. The doorman scans his list, then looks at Bill. “May I see your invitation?”

“Oh—my invitation? Yes, of course.”

Bill searches all his pockets, even the ones inside his coat for good measure. “Perhaps I have it, Mister Turnbill,” Jia says. She begins to search her robes and eventually sighs. “I must’ve left it on the ship. How thoughtless of me.”

“My apologies, but no invitation means no entry,” the doorman declares, not looking at all apologetic. “Please make way for the other guests.”

Well, they tried. It was fun while it lasted. Shuǐ starts to step aside, but Bill puts a hand on her shoulder. “One moment, my lady. I’m sure we can sort this out.” He then turns on the doorman, his eyes narrowing. “Sir, I’m not sure you understand who you’re speaking to. These are the daughters of the Kangxi Emperor, ruler of all China. I don’t believe he’d appreciate his trade partners turning away his heirs. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Now they’re laying it on a bit thick. The doorman looks at him, then glances between Shuǐ and Jia, his eyes widening in embarrassment, and possibly a hint of fear. “Good Lord—my sincerest apologies, Your Highnesses. I didn’t recognize you. Please, go right ahead. I’m sure Lord Gallego will wish to speak with you personally.”

“I’m sure he will,” Bill states with a huff.

He brushes past the doorman with purpose, and Jia and Shuǐ follow, the former giving the doorman a glittering smile while the latter simply nods. Once they’re out of earshot, Bill turns to Shuǐ and grins. “That was actually a bit fun.”

“I’m glad one of us is enjoying ourselves,” she mutters. They come through the foyer and instantly find themselves in the parlor. With people now surrounding them on all sides, Shuǐ notices that she and Jia will be more out of place than she thought.

“We need to find the host. If we establish ourselves with him, we won’t be the objects of speculation,” Jia points out, sensing the same.

Shuǐ hums. “Good luck with that. We have no idea what he looks like.”

“Leave it to me. My wife has a large family—she taught me a little trick for seeking strangers out in a large crowd,” Bill tells them. Then he looks around and calls out, “Lord Gallego!”

Instantly, a man in a long yellow coat turns around. When Bill waves to him, he begins walking over. “Hm. Very impressive,” Jia compliments.

Bill smiles at her and faces Lord Gallego as he opens his arms. “Ah, my friend! I’m delighted you could make it,” he greets, shaking Bill’s hand with both of his own. “And you are…?”

“William Turnbill, sir. I’m the chaperone for Princess Jia and Princess Shuǐ, the Kangxi Emperor’s daughters.”

Lord Gallego blinks, then looks at Shuǐ and Jia. For a moment, he stares, and Shuǐ fears they’ll be discovered. But Lord Gallego quickly recovers from his shock. “Ah, I see! Your Highnesses, please forgive my rudeness. I didn’t know Leoncio was—but never mind that.” He takes Jia’s hand and bows, kissing it. “Welcome to my humble gathering.”

“It’s an honor to be here,” Jia replies. “I hope you don’t mind our tardiness. We were instructed in the invitation to send our offerings ahead of time, but our father insisted we deliver them in person. Shuǐ, if you would?”

Shuǐ, who’s trying to discreetly wipe Lord Gallego’s kiss off on her robes, holds the box out. Bill removes the lid, and Lord Gallego gasps when he sees her scabbard. It is quite impressive; it’s obsidian black with gold detailing. Being the eldest, Bo got the best. “What an exquisite weapon. May I?”

“Of course,” Bill answers for her, and Shuǐ’s jaw tightens before she can remind herself that it’s all part of the role. That doesn’t stop her hands from lingering on the scabbard as it’s removed from her grasp. Lord Gallego unsheathes the sword and holds it, nodding intently. “Yes, this will make a fine addition to our collection. The buyer is undoubtedly a lucky man.”

“Undoubtedly,” Shuǐ agrees, though she’d much rather run the buyer through with it.

Lord Gallego places the sword in its box, then takes that from her as well and snaps his fingers at one of his staff. “Take that to the library.”

So, there’s part one of their puzzle solved—the wares are being kept in the library. “When will the auction begin?” Shuǐ inquires before she can stop herself.

Luckily, Lord Gallego simply chuckles. “Not to worry, Your Highness, your chaperone shall deal with the bartering. The ladies are taken to the sunroom for teatime, and that is when we will start the auction in the library.”

Shuǐ’s fists clench under her sleeves, but she simply nods. “The other guests are keeping their betting wages in the dining room,” Lord Gallego continues, now speaking with Bill, “if you’d like to add yours to the mix.”

“Thank you, sir. I’m afraid we couldn’t bring it all with us on our first trip,” Bill jokes, “but I’m sure the attendants will catch up soon.”

He laughs jovially and pats Bill on the back. “Certainly, certainly. I understand. Oh, before I forget, let me announce Your Highnesses’ arrival.”

“That’s not necessary,” Shuǐ starts, but Lord Gallego turns to face the crowd. “Everyone, may I have your attention?”

The conversations cease. “Introducing Princess Jia and Princess Shuǐ, daughters of the Emperor of China, a great trade ally of the Casa de Contrataciòn de las Indias,” Lord Gallego proclaims. “Please show them courtesy and patience. We are thrilled to have them in attendance.”

The crowd breaks out into polite applause, and Shuǐ has never wanted to be anywhere less. Once they manage to dispel everyone’s attention, Shuǐ leans over to Jia and Bill. “I’ll report to Jack and Gibbs.”

“Right. We’ll mingle. Good luck.”

She sneaks out of the parlor and hides in the hallways, watching as the staff come from the right wing with more bottles of wine and sacks of food. The cellar must be that way. Shuǐ starts heading toward it and tries to look like she knows exactly where she’s going.

When she finally does spot the cellar, she ducks into another corner. She should wait until the coast clears. As she backs into the shadows, she bumps into someone else. “Oh, my apologies,” she says quickly—she’s too far in to be caught now. “I was looking for–”

Her voice dies in her throat when she meets the girl’s eyes. That’s who’s standing in front of her, a girl no older than sixteen or seventeen. Her honey-brown hair is tied back in a ponytail of curled ringlets, and her daffodil yellow dress is quite flattering on her, but Shuǐ is drawn to her eyes. They’re both shades of brown—but the right eye is a shade lighter than the left eye. It would barely be noticeable to anyone else.

But Shuǐ notices. Her eyes are the same.

The girl hurriedly apologizes, “Sorry,” and then dashes off toward the parlor. Shuǐ’s gaze follows her until she disappears from sight, and she gets one of those nasty gut feelings again.

This is not brightening her mood at all.

Chapter Text

Shuǐ carefully follows the wooden steps down into the cellar, not wanting to alert those waking about above the dim chamber to her presence. When she reaches the dirt floor, she doesn’t see any sign of Jack or Gibbs. However, as she walks further into the room, she hears shuffling behind some of the barrels. “Jack, it’s me.”

As expected, Jack and Gibbs pop up behind some of the stacked crates and barrels. “Finally. What took you so long?” Jack questions.

“Cap’n was gettin’ worried about you,” Gibbs adds, jabbing Jack with his elbow.

“How kind of him,” Shuǐ says dismissively. “The auction is taking place in the library, but the betting money is in the dining room. They said it’d start around teatime—I’d suggest making your move then.”

She turns to leave, but Jack stops her. “Just one more thing, love.”

Shuǐ looks at him. Jack seems oddly hesitant to say whatever he’s about to say, but he presses on, regardless. “You seem…different today.”

She glares at him. “Wearing a dress doesn’t make me a different person, Jack.”

“No, I know that. You’re just—you have this look on your face that–”

“I can’t help the way my face looks, Captain,” Shuǐ interjects crossly before turning back to the steps. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a gathering to endure.”

With that, she stalks out of the cellar. Jack winces when he hears the doors slam, then looks at Gibbs. “See what I mean now?”

“She’s certainly on edge,” Gibbs agrees. “You didn’t go about addressin’ it the best way, though.”

“Yeah, you think?”

Above them, Shuǐ sweeps back into the party, immediately searching for Jia. The girl she bumped into earlier may have coincidentally had the same genetic trait as her, down to shades of their two-toned eyes. But if Shuǐ’s suspicions are correct, then they shouldn’t take any chances. Their identities could easily be uncovered if–

“Ah, there you are, my lady.”

Shuǐ turns quickly at the sound of Bill’s voice, but her mouth goes dry when she sees him standing with not only the girl she’d run into but an older woman in a dress that’s just a shade darker yellow than the girl’s. It gets worse when Bill says a name that she’s seen penned at the end of letters she found while snooping in her father’s chambers. “Princess Shuǐ, allow me to introduce Lady Isadora De Witte and her daughter, Desiree.”

Otherwise known as her mother—and, she presumes, her half-sister.

This heist is fucked.

Lady Isadora and Desiree both bow to her. “It’s an honor, Your Highness,” Isadora states as she straightens up. “I hope that you have found the West to your liking.”

Shuǐ stares at her blankly for a moment. Then she’s hit with a second, possibly more dreadful realization. Her mother doesn’t recognize her.

Swallowing down the urge to say something like, “You birthed me,” Shuǐ nods. “It’s certainly different from home.”

“I was just telling them about our hold-up at the doors,” Bill comments.

“Yes, we had a similar issue,” Isadora laughs graciously. “Poor Antoine. Our invitation must’ve fallen out of his pocket at our last harbor stop. We were lucky they had our name on the list.”

“Papa swears he was pickpocketed,” Desiree adds, still eyeing Shuǐ curiously.

Shuǐ forces a polite smile. “I see. Mister Turnbill, might I have a word?”

“Of course, my lady.”

She all but drags him to the furthest corner of the room. “Is something wrong?” Bill questions, looking mildly concerned.

“Very. Where is Jia? I’m leaving and I’m going to make the mistake of telling her.”

“Leaving?” Bill repeats, much too loudly for her liking, and Shuǐ shushes him. “Sorry, sorry—but why?”

“Because that,” Shuǐ hisses, pointing at Isadora, “is my mother.”

Bill glances at Isadora, stares at her a moment, then looks back to Shuǐ. “Really? That’s—she doesn’t—well, she’s a lovely conversationalist.”

“I’m sure she is. That’s not the point–”

Jia suddenly appears from out of the crowd and joins them. “What are you two up to now? We’re not doing ourselves any favors, conspiring like this.”

“I’m leaving,” Shuǐ says shortly.

“Her mother is here,” Bill adds. Shuǐ would smack him if they weren’t in mixed company.

Jia’s eyes widen. “What? Really?”

Shuǐ quits scowling at Bill and turns to Jia. “Yes, so I think I should go before she realizes who I am and ruins this whole thing. I’ll see you back at the ship.”

She turns to leave, but Bill interrupts. “Wait, realizes? I thought she was just covering for you.”

“I doubt that. Now, if you’ll excuse me–”

“Shuǐ, does she not know it’s you?” Jia questions, putting a hand on her arm. “Not even by name?”

“What does it matter?” Shuǐ retorts, ripping her arm from Jia’s grasp. “Whether she recognizes me or not, she won’t say a word to me. Especially not with her lovely husband and precious Desiree in attendance. Regardless, I want out. I’m going back to the Pearl. You two can figure out the rest from here.”

With that, she turns on her heel and heads for the back doors—they lead to a courtyard near the dock where Pintel and Ragetti are waiting, perfect for their getaway. Shuǐ barely clears the threshold before Jia calls to her, “Shuǐ, hold on a moment!”

“I’d rather not,” she huffs, stomping past the hedges and nearly losing her shit when a piece of the skirt of her robes gets caught in a bramble. She is so sick of this.

Jia catches up and starts to help Shuǐ untangle herself. “Look, I’m sorry. You know I never would’ve suggested this if I’d known.”

“Why did you ever suggest it in the first place?” Shuǐ gripes. “Miss Next Time I’m Staying On The Ship. A few days later, you’re pickpocketing Admiral Antoine De Witte. I just wish you’d be consistent.”

“I wanted to make it up to you,” Jia blurts out.

Shuǐ stops fussing with the bramble and looks at her, her brow furrowing. “Make what up to me?”

Jia pauses, then looks away sheepishly. “Well—the dragon. Above anyone else, I’m supposed to follow you headfirst into dangerous situations, aren’t I? I’m supposed to support you. And I didn’t. I’ve felt awful about the whole thing.”

“So you decided the way to make it up to me was to stick me in a dress?”

“I thought you loved harassing the upper class! Don’t think I’ve forgotten the python incident.”

“I do, but not when I have to look like them,” Shuǐ counters, gesturing at her robes. “I can’t move without worrying about snagging on something, something snagging on me, or almost tripping, and I have half my usual number of knives on me, and having my hair pulled back this tightly gives me a headache, and my mother is here with another daughter, and she doesn’t know who I am, and I snapped at Jack in the cellar, and I feel terrible.”

Jia hesitates, as though waiting for more, then asks, “In general, or about snapping at Sparrow?”

“Both,” Shuǐ answers as she finally frees herself from the bramble. She straightens up and brushes herself off with a heavy sigh. “I appreciate the gesture, Jia, but I would’ve been just as happy if you’d simply apologized.”

Jia nods awkwardly. After a pause, she speaks again. “I know you’re in a difficult position now. But I still think you should stay.”

“Jia,” Shuǐ begins, but Jia cuts her off. “I’ll tell Jack and Gibbs to retrieve you from the sunroom once the auction’s begun—they could use the extra help, anyway. But it’ll look too suspicious if you disappear all of a sudden. Especially if your mother does know who you are.”

Shuǐ frowns, but she knows that Jia has a point. They’ll raise too many suspicions if she leaves now. If she can keep herself in check, well, teatime isn’t that far away. She’ll only have to suffer for another hour or so.

“Fine. But I can’t promise I won’t die of boredom.”

Jia smiles and takes her hand, pulling her back into the mansion. “That’s the spirit.”

Shuǐ rolls her eyes but lets Jia drag her along. She has a point; Shuǐ is usually the one doing the dragging. It might be worth the act if Jia gets her chance to take charge. She deserves it for all the times Shuǐ got them in trouble.

While Jia makes the trip to the cellar, Shuǐ steels her nerves and returns to conversing with Lady Isadora and Desiree. The two thankfully still have no idea who she actually is (though Desiree is obviously enthralled by the “coincidence” that they have the same odd eyes), and Bill stays by her side, steering most of the conversation away from anything that might give them away. Shuǐ starts to feel as though she could make it through the rest of the event without letting her identity slip.

Soon enough, Lord Gallego is tapping on a glass with a spoon. “Everyone, everyone, may I have your attention?”

Jia, who had joined them once she returned, pauses in the middle of her sentence while they all look up. “I believe it is time for the main event. If the ladies would like to follow my darling wife to the sunroom, we can commence with the auction in the library.”

Shuǐ makes eye contact with Bill as they’re leaving the parlor, and he nods to her. Jia and Desiree keep conversing on the way to the sunroom, with Jia remarking on Desiree’s engagement to a fellow admiral’s son when they enter. “To be getting married in the summer as well must be so exciting.”

“It is! Papa even said I could arrive in a carriage, like a real princess,” Desiree swoons as she sits in one of the chairs.

Shuǐ tries not to raise an eyebrow at that. Her half-sister couldn’t be more different than her. “What about you two?” Lady Gallego questions, fanning herself. “I imagine the Emperor has set you up nicely. Your weddings must’ve been exquisite.”

Jia smiles politely. “Oh, yes. No carriages, unfortunately, but quite a few lavish gifts. These earrings were given to me at the ceremony,” she comments. Desiree’s eyes widen, and Shuǐ has to refrain from snickering, wondering just how wide they’d get if she knew that Jia had snatched the earrings a few port stops ago. “My husband is a scribe for our father’s court. He records all the important things that happen—meetings with his generals and the like. And he writes the most wonderful poetry.”

She’s having way too much fun with this. “He’s not the best singer, though,” Shuǐ adds to play along.

Desiree giggles and Lady Gallego uses her fan to hide her grin. As Jia gives Shuǐ a look, Isadora asks, “And you, Princess Shuǐ?”

“Shuǐ hasn’t settled,” Jia answers for her, clearly seeking revenge. “She doesn’t have eyes for anyone. She’s strange like that.”

“I have eyes for someone,” Shuǐ retorts without thinking.

Jia’s brow furrows at that, and Desiree’s brown curls bounce as she leans in, intrigued. “Well, why not marry him?”

Great. She got caught up in the banter, and now she’s got to come up with something convincing. Shuǐ purses her lips, then lands on it—the best way to get out of this without hurting their credibility is to tell the truth, or at least, half of it. “I don’t think he’s the kind of man my father would have me marry.”

“Who is he?” Desiree inquires, but Isadora clears her throat. “I don’t know if this is entirely appropriate–”

“Oh, let her speak, Isadora,” Lady Gallego refutes with a wave of her fan. “We’ve all had these moments. Who’s caught your eye, Your Highness?”

Isadora shuts her mouth, looking a bit dejected. Shuǐ wonders for a moment if that was meant to be a slight on her mother, but with the other ladies looking on expectantly, she has no choice but to continue. “Well, he’s…he’s a sailor, for one thing.”

Lady Gallego raises a brow. “His business?”

“Obtaining exotic and rare materials for trade,” Shuǐ answers after a beat. “I met him when he was retrieving something from my father’s depot.”

Jia’s eyes suddenly widen. Her jaw drops in shock, and Shuǐ sends her a brief look to remind her where they are. “Ah. Him,” Jia says awkwardly after a moment.

“What’s wrong with that?” Desiree questions. “If he’s allowed to retrieve things for the Emperor, he must have a high position.”

“He’s just not like any other man I’ve met,” Shuǐ states. “That’s part of the appeal for me. He understands what I want for myself in this life, and he does his best to help me get it. He sees me as more than my father’s daughter. He sees me as an individual. I’m not sure my father appreciates it as much as I do.”

Desiree smiles. “Well, I think he sounds lovely.”

Shuǐ looks at her, but before she can reply, there’s a brief rapping at the door. They all turn to face it with confusion, and after a pause, Jia gasps. “Oh! That’s right—Mister Turnbill said he’d come to retrieve one of us once Father’s sword had been sold. Shuǐ, why don’t you go speak with him?”

Grateful to be freed from the conversation, Shuǐ nods. She slips out the doors—only to turn and see Jack standing behind her.

With everything she just said, maybe she’d be better off having tea.

“Where’s Gibbs?” she asks, hoping to redirect in case he did overhear her.

“Dining room. I came back for you,” Jack says in a hushed tone, beckoning her down the hall. “C’mon.”

Shuǐ follows, and she believes she’s in the clear until Jack asks, “Who were you talking about?”

“What?”

“In there. Just now. You were talking about someone you’d met in Sao Feng’s treasure storage. Do you let lots of people who break into there escape with their lives? Here I thought I was special.”

Shuǐ stares at him for a moment. “You don’t know who I was talking about?”

“No.”

“Really?”

“How am I supposed to know, love? Was it Bootstrap? Because if it is, as you’ve reminded me many times, he’s happily married.”

“You know,” Shuǐ starts as they reach the door to the dining room, “sometimes you do these things that are so smart, and I’m very impressed by you. But then there are moments like these, where you say other things that are really rather stupid.”

Jack looks at her as she walks past him into the room. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Shuǐ doesn’t reply, instead addressing Gibbs, who is pouring chests of gold pieces into the burlap sacks he and Jack brought along. “How are we doing so far?”

“Well, we won’t be able to take all of this,” Gibbs admits as he gestures to the stacks upon stacks of chests and ornate boxes scattered about the dining room. “The first bag is already burstin’ at the seams. But we should have more than enough with what we can carry.”

Shuǐ nods and rolls her sleeves up the best she can. “As long as we all get out of here alive, that’s fine with me. How much do you think–”

She’s cut off as the dining room door opens again, and the three of them whip around to see one of Lord Gallego’s staff standing there, looking from Shuǐ to Jack to Gibbs. “Do you mind?” Shuǐ scolds, thinking quickly. “I’m having a word with my attendants.”

The woman blinks, then shuts the door. When they hear her footsteps quickly retreating down the hall, Jack looks at Shuǐ. “I don’t think you convinced her, love.”

She sighs and pulls a couple of hairpins out of her updo, pieces of her hair falling down her back. “You two get Bill; I’ll get Jia. We’ll meet at the dock.”

With her sharpened hairpins clasped firmly in her fists, Shuǐ checks that the coast is clear and makes a break for the sunroom. She can hear Jack and Gibbs heading in the opposite direction, to the library. When she reaches the sunroom doors, she doesn’t bother knocking, she just calls through them: “Jia, may I borrow you for a moment? Mister Turnbill wants a word.”

There’s a pause, and then Jia slips through the doors. “What is it?”

“We’ve been found out. We have to go before the alarm is raised.”

“Oh,” Jia says, sounding a bit disappointed. “I wanted to hear the rest of Lady Gallego’s story.”

Shuǐ squints at her, bewildered. “About what?”

“Well, at the last gala she attended, one of the duchesses snubbed her, and–”

“Never mind. Let’s get out of here.”

They move as quickly and quietly as they can through the halls, but Shuǐ doesn’t hear movement from anywhere else in the estate. Perhaps the lady-in-waiting believed her bluff after all. Still, the sooner they get back to the Black Pearl, the better.

Shuǐ and Jia turn the corner to the back doors at the same time as Jack, Gibbs, and Bill, with Bill and Gibbs each carrying a burlap sack of gold and Jack having Shuǐ’s sword stuck in his belt. She jerks her hand in preparation to stab before realizing it's them. “That was fast.”

“Maybe too fast,” Bill notes. “It’s a miracle they didn’t notice me take the sword. I’m sure the guests will get suspicious when we don’t return soon.”

“All the more reason to leave,” Jia states, pushing the doors open. The green grass and blue sky greet them, a gentle breeze coasting through the doorway.

Shuǐ, finally feeling some of her tension ease, nudges Jack with her shoulder before hiking up the length of her robes and dashing for the lawn. “Race you to the docks!”

As she sprints across the green and feels the soft grass beneath her feet, her heart feels lighter than ever. In a few mere moments, she’ll be back on the ship, where she belongs. She’ll never have to wear a dress again, or worry about stepping out of place, or deal with the discomfort of her own mother not knowing who she is—she’ll be free.

And then from behind, she hears Jack yell, “Shuǐ!”

She’s shoved to the ground just as a deafening bang rings out.

Chapter Text

Shuǐ manages to avoid breaking her nose, but the side of her face aches where it lands against the grass. There’s dirt in her mouth—she's not sure how it got there. She pushes herself off the ground and twists around, looking up to see where the shot came from. There’s a balcony above the back doors. A uniformed man who seems to be reloading a musket stands on it—he fired at them. At her.

But Shuǐ hasn’t been shot. The stinging, searing pain that usually comes with that is completely and utterly absent.

Slowly, she drags her gaze down. There are guests gathered on the steps now, drawn by the commotion. Lady Isadora and Desiree are at the front, but it’s not them she’s looking for.

Her heart all but stops when she sees Jack lying still behind her.

Shuǐ instantly drags herself over to him (her legs get tangled in the skirt of her robes) and lifts one of his shoulders. She does her best to ignore the splotch of dark red staining the ground beneath them, the same red that is staining her hands. “Get up,” she orders shakily, not sounding as forceful as she intended to—more on the verge of begging. “Get up. Get up, come on, Jack, get up–”

Jack finally hisses in pain as she tugs him to her, which at least shows her a sign of life. Jia and Gibbs take over at that point, each hoisting him up and slinging an arm around their shoulders. Shuǐ stands and, seeing Bill with his pistol trained on the marksman, steals Jack’s pistol and points it at the guests. “Don’t come any closer!”

Some of the guests shriek and run back inside for cover. Lady Isadora stands rooted in place, an unreadable and stoic expression on her face, while Desiree peers over her shoulder. With both of them threatening to shoot, the marksman halts. “On my mark,” Bill says to her in a hushed tone as they step backward, “we’ll turn and make a break for it.”

Shuǐ glances over her shoulder. Her tension eases just barely when she realizes Gibbs, Jia, and Jack are out of sight. “Understood.”

They keep backing away, and when Shuǐ feels the shade of the trees cast over her, Bill whispers, “Now!”

They hear more shots fire when they turn. As they race for the dock, Shuǐ undoes the sash of her hanfu. Bill looks at her as she clenches it between her teeth and tears a piece of her outer robes. “Uh, Shuǐ, what are you–”

She balls up the scrap of fabric and flings it toward some corner of the woods—it might throw whoever’s coming after them off track. “Jack’s going to need bandages, and I doubt we brought any of those with us,” Shuǐ states once she’s taken the sash out of her mouth. “This’ll have to do.”

When they reach the rowboat, Ragetti and Pintel have already undone the lines. Shuǐ steps into the boat after Bill and shoves them away from the dock, commanding, “Row!”

Jia and Gibbs are still holding Jack upright between them. He’s livelier now, keeping a hand on his bleeding shoulder. Bill beckons to them once Shuǐ sits. “Give him here. Miss Shuǐ, keep him steady for me.”

Shuǐ moves to the edge so Jack can sit between them and keep his weight on her, then starts to peel his bloodstained waistcoat off. “Watch it, watch it,” he gripes, but she can hear the strain in his tone.

She only gentles her touch slightly as she tugs the neckline of his shirt down. Bill looks at the wound on Jack’s shoulder and winces. “Someone hand me the rum.”

“Are you seriously thinking about drinking at a time like this?” Jia questions incredulously.

“Please ignore her and get the rum,” Jack interjects hoarsely.

Gibbs hands a flask to Bill. He pops it open and pours a little on the wound, to which Jack curses profusely, his head keeling back onto Shuǐ. She steadies his shoulders, trying not to let her grip tighten. “It actually isn’t that bad, in theory,” Bill admits, holding his hand out for Shuǐ’s sash. “The round went all the way through, so it’s a nice and neat wound. If the shot was still in there, well, we’d really have a problem.”

Shuǐ stares at him in disbelief. “Jack has a hole through his shoulder, William.”

Bill blinks, then clears his throat and goes back to bandaging. “Yes. Nasty one, too.”

“I’m alright,” Jack starts, but Shuǐ cuts him off crossly. “Like hell you are.” She turns to Pintel and Ragetti. “How far are we from the Pearl?”

“We’re rowin’ as fast as we can,” Pintel replies.

“Row faster.”

They look at each other, then put their heads down and quicken their pace. Shuǐ watches them grimly for a moment before turning to Jack again. He’s already staring at her, and he hums lazily when she meets his gaze. “You’d make a good captain.”

“Don’t say that right now,” Shuǐ scolds, barely able to keep her voice from breaking. “And stay awake.”

Somehow, Jack finds the energy to grin. “No promises.”

Thankfully, the Black Pearl comes into view just as Shuǐ feels Jack go limp in her arms. When they come up to the ship, Bill shouts, “Barbossa! Throw us the lines!”

After a moment, Barbossa looks over the taffrail, glaring at them. “Can’t ye just climb up? There’s a ladder right there.”

“Jack’s been shot!” Shuǐ snaps at him as he turns to go.

He looks back over and scoffs. “Of course. Lower the lines on the port side!”

Once the rowboat’s been hoisted up, Bill and Pintel carry Jack onto the deck and head for the hatch. “Ragetti, fetch the surgeon’s kit,” Barbossa orders. “Miss Liang, we’ll need yer stitchin’ skill. The rest of ye, Mister Gibbs is in charge till I say otherwise.”

Shuǐ starts to follow them below, but Jia steps in front of her and gently grabs her shoulders. “Shuǐ, maybe you should go get cleaned up.”

She gives Jia a puzzled look, then glances down at herself. Her hands and the front of her robes are completely soaked with blood. Jack’s blood.

“I’ll come retrieve you once we’ve finished,” Jia tells her with a half-hearted smile. “It’s going to be alright, I’m sure of it.”

It sounds like she’s trying to convince herself more than she’s trying to comfort Shuǐ, but Shuǐ nods all the same. As she makes her way to the food locker, she ignores the captivated gazes of the rest of the crew. She pulls out her remaining hairpins, and her hair fully unfurls around her shoulders. She sets them down on a crate, shutting the door behind her and leaning against it.

Finally alone, Shuǐ slides to the floor. Her bloodstained hands come up to cover her mouth as she does her best to muffle her sobs.

Gods, this is all her fault.

…

She’s still washing the blood off her hands when Jia comes into the galley. “Oh, there you are. Barbossa wants everyone on deck.”

“I’ll be there in a moment,” Shuǐ replies thickly.

“Shuǐ,” Jia interjects, grabbing her wrist, “your hands are clean. If you keep scrubbing like that, you’re going to take your skin off.”

Shuǐ squints and looks at them. Her hands are still red, but now it’s from rawness, not blood. Jia gives her a sympathetic look and holds Shuǐ’s hand in both of her own. “He’s fine, Shuǐ. Turner and I were able to fix him up with no problem. Let’s go hear what Barbossa has to say.”

Shuǐ purses her lips slightly, but she abandons her pail of saltwater and allows Jia to lead her onto the deck. Barbossa is at the helm with Gibbs. He must’ve been waiting for them because he finally starts to speak when they arrive. “The captain will be fine. He’s in a sling due to the location of the shot, but otherwise, he should be back to normal—well, what’s normal for Jack—in no time.”

Shuǐ feels her shoulders relax a bit at that, but her crossed arms stay tightly folded. “Until then, I’ll be actin’ as captain,” Barbossa states. “Mister Gibbs will take on the duties of first mate along with sail-master. Miss Sao is in charge of watchin’ over Jack until he’s back on his feet. Are we clear?”

“Aye!” the rest of the crew choruses, and it’s only then that the words register for Shuǐ. Her brow furrows, confused. The others begin to disperse, but she approaches the helm as Barbossa is coming down the steps. He speaks before she can, “Be comforted, lass. He lives.”

“Why’d you–”

“Because I figured ye’d be doin’ it whether I asked ye to or not,” Barbossa answers, brushing past her. “Besides, he’ll be in a much better mood if he wakes up to yer face.”

Shuǐ watches him for a moment, still curiously bemused. Barbossa turns to her and glares. “Need I repeat meself, Miss Sao? Report to the captain’s quarters.”

“Right—yes, sir.”

She doesn’t need to be told twice. Once below deck, Shuǐ’s heart starts to pound in her chest as she approaches Jack’s door. Try as she might, she can’t dispel the worry plaguing her. What if something happened while they were all on deck? What if he moved and the stitches tore? What if Bill didn’t disinfect the wound properly? (Her biggest concern, considering she’s seen the sorry state of their surgeon’s kit firsthand.)

But when she peeks inside, she sees that none of her worst fears have been realized. Jack’s lying on the bunk, asleep. Shuǐ breathes a quiet sigh of relief and shuts the door behind her. The sky has dimmed since they returned; she should light a candle before the sun sets completely.

While she does so, she finds that she keeps glancing at Jack, as if she’s expecting him to just up and stop breathing. Even though he looks perfectly alright (minus the sling), she’s far from convinced. Shuǐ’s eyes scan over him, drifting to his free hand, which is dangling off the side of the bunk.

He’d done something once—when they were dancing in the harbor, which feels like forever ago now. Still, her mind brings the moment into focus: her hand in Jack’s, his thumb sliding against his palm, and the way he’d started their banter by pointing out how nervous she was, which he only knew because he could feel her heart racing.

Shuǐ sets the flint down and sits against the bunk. Eyeing Jack’s hand, she takes it, then waits to see if she’s woken him up.

He doesn’t react except for a slight grumble, and she slides her hand further into his, fully grasping it. The metal of his many rings is warm, like his skin. Shuǐ moves her thumb against his palm. Then she feels it—his pulse. It’s steady and strong.

Shuǐ finally lets herself relax fully. Finally, physical evidence that settles her anxious heart. As long as Jack’s pulse stays that way, he should be alright. But, just in case, she should probably monitor it until he’s awake. She leans her head back and stares at the ceiling.

Counting the minutes that creep by is the only thing that keeps her awake. Eventually, dusk fully settles; the flickering candle becomes the only source of light for the room. Shuǐ blinks and holds back a yawn as she readjusts her position. She puts her elbow on the edge of the bunk and rests her head against their entwined hands. Just when she starts to wonder how much longer she can keep herself from drifting off, Jack’s hand slips from her grip.

Shuǐ turns to see him propping himself up on his free arm. He stares at her, groggy and bewildered. “What are you doing in my room?”

Honestly, she’s just as surprised as him when her only response is throwing her arms around him. Jack winces as she knocks him back, his free hand just barely keeping him steady. “Ow, ow, watch the arm–”

“Don’t you ever do something like that again!” Shuǐ scolds, her voice nearly betraying how relieved she is that he’s awake. “Are you mad? You could have died!”

“That sort of comes with the territory, love,” Jack points out, only to hiss when Shuǐ (albeit lightly) shoves his injured shoulder. “Alright, I get it! What are you so worked up about?”

Her anger comes back tenfold. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that you got shot? Most people react to that with a little more distress.”

“Please, I’ve been shot plenty of times before. This is nothing.”

“Well, it’s something to me!”

Jack looks at her, and even in the dim candlelight, his teeth glint as he smirks. “Is it now?”

Shuǐ glares at him before going to stand. However, Jack takes her arm and pulls her back to him, then wraps his free hand around her waist. “Oh, c’mon, love. Give me a break. One of us was going to get shot no matter what, and I’d much rather have it this way,” he says.

“I wouldn’t,” Shuǐ retorts, though she moves closer to him.

“Yeah, you owe me your life; so what?” Jack asks flippantly. “If it makes you feel any better, I won’t hold it over your head.”

Shuǐ huffs and looks away. He doesn’t seem to be cued into the real reason she’s so upset about this, but she supposes she can’t blame him. And she’s certainly not going to tell him she’d rather it was her with the bullet wound than him. Though Jack usually sees through her acts, even he can’t know what she’s thinking or feeling at every given moment. Unless this is his way of making her feel better about nearly killing him, in which case, he’s failing miserably.

“Have you slept?” Jack questions all of a sudden, and Shuǐ glances at him as his free hand moves to brush part of her hair behind her ear.

“You really believe I could’ve been sleeping at a time like this?” she refutes.

Jack gives her a look. “I didn’t just mean now, love. I meant lately. As in, at all in the last several days.”

“…I’ve been a little busy.”

Jack scoffs, as though he expected that answer. “Well, I’m alright now. You can go back to your quarters—and rest. I assure you, I’ll still be alive in the morning,” he states as he flops back down, rolling onto his injured side.

Shuǐ stares at him for a moment. Jack waits, then looks up at her. “You’re not leaving.”

She shakes her head, and the slightest smile ghosts across her face. Jack sighs and sits up again, leaning closer to her this time. “Don’t tell me you’re going soft on me, love.”

“You could only hope,” Shuǐ replies as she kicks off her boots. She pulls her legs up onto the bunk, then rests her head on Jack’s uninjured shoulder, closing her eyes. Jack takes the hint, and his free hand comes up around her to pet her hair.

Shuǐ is still surprised by how much she likes being close to him. It slows her ever-relentless heart, whereas, in the past, a man getting too close to her would have the opposite effect. Sometimes it feels like she’s playing with fire, just asking for trouble. But Jack seems more than content to merely fiddle with her hair until she manages to fall asleep.

Unfortunately, her mind is more than active, rerunning the events of the day. When Jack’s hand comes to rest on her back, Shuǐ clears her throat. “My mother was at the auction.”

To her surprise, Jack just hums in reply. “I figured.”

“What do you mean, you figured?” Shuǐ asks, raising her head slightly.

“Well, you were already iffy about the whole thing to start, and then when we were there, you got even more skittish,” Jack states matter-of-factly. “The invitation Jia stole was hers, wasn’t it? More likely her husband’s, but my point stands.”

Shuǐ blinks, then leans into him again. “Well, it was, but I didn’t know that until we arrived. I was iffy in the beginning because I despise formal events.”

“That was my second guess. How’d you handle that mess?”

“I didn’t have to handle it. She didn’t recognize me. And if she did, she didn’t bother raising the alarm.”

Jack makes a noise of disagreement. Shuǐ looks at him without raising her head. “Raising the alarm would’ve meant admitting she had a child with a pirate out of wedlock to all of her prim and proper friends. If she had no issues with that, she might’ve actually mothered me.”

“Then how was there a marksman ready and waiting for us when we made our escape?” Jack wonders, a rhetorical musing.

Shuǐ pauses, then turns her head to face him. Jack looks back at her and shrugs. “I’m only saying.”

“Oh, so you’re saying she wants me dead. Yes, I much prefer your picture of things,” Shuǐ says dryly.

“I didn’t say that,” he refutes, his free hand combing through her hair again. “All I know is I saw a shadow on the balcony, and the next thing I know, I’ve been shot by a French admiral. That may or may not have anything to do with your mother being there. Though it is a conclusion one might come to. And now that I realize I’ve fallen for your trap, I’m going to stop talking so you will get some sleep like I asked.”

She smiles slightly in reply. But even with the ship rocking gently, and the candle softly flickering, she feels restless. Shuǐ stares at the flame and shifts her head. “Jack?”

He grunts in response.

“Keep talking.”

“About what?”

“Anything.”

Jack doesn’t respond for a moment, and Shuǐ takes that as a rejection. As she closes her eyes, she hears him start, “A catfish and a dogfish swim into a bar…”

When she opens them again, sunlight is streaming through the window, and Jack has pulled her fully onto his chest.

Chapter Text

“I don’t want to do my job today,” Jack complains, sprawled out on the bunk while Shuǐ checks the charts for their route to the Drake Passage. “My shoulder hurts.”

They’ve certainly missed breakfast by this point, but no one has come to check on them yet. Barbossa must’ve told the crew they weren’t to be bothered. Shuǐ appreciates that—it would have been difficult to explain why she was in Jack’s bed, and even harder to dispel the rumors that would’ve surely swirled about the ship.

She looks over at Jack with a grin, marking their destination with her other hand. “All you have to do is order the others around. That doesn’t involve much shoulder movement, does it?”

“It does if you’re me.”

“You could resist the urge to gesture wildly.”

“How dare you make such an egregious proposal.”

“Well, if you don’t get up there and captain, I’ll have to take orders from Barbossa,” Shuǐ states as she rolls up one of the charts. “And I don’t like taking orders from anyone, but you at least have the presence of mind to ask politely. If you can’t do it for yourself, do it for me.”

Jack grunts. When Shuǐ turns to him again, he’s sitting up. The expression on his face tells her he has an idea. She wonders if it's too late to slip out the door. “You be captain.”

“Pardon?”

“I’ll make you captain. Captain for a day,” Jack repeats, and he looks awfully proud of himself for such an epiphany. “That way, we’re both happy. You don’t have to take orders, and I don’t have to give them. Besides, it’s a necessary step for you as my apprentice.”

Shuǐ raises an eyebrow. “As lovely as that sounds, if go up there and proclaim you’ve made me captain, I doubt it will go over well. This latest romp of ours has, unfortunately, reminded the crew that I am a woman in physical form if nothing else.”

“An excellent point. Where is my hat?”

She retrieves it from the chair for him. Once Jack’s affixed it to his head, he stands from the bunk with a slight groan. Shuǐ moves to help him walk, but he waves her off. “I’m fine, love. Get the door, will you?”

She does and follows him to the hatch. When Jack emerges on deck, he shouts, “Ahoy there!”

The crew stops what they’re doing and turns to him. Jack takes off his hat and drops it on Shuǐ’s head. “She’s your captain today. Non-negotiable.”

With that, he turns on his heel and heads back for his quarters. Shuǐ watches Jack leave while she readjusts the hat, amused. When she looks up, she realizes that the crew is staring at her with puzzled expressions. Shuǐ stares back before realizing that they’re probably waiting for her to confirm or deny it. “What are you lot looking at?” she asks. “Back to work!”

They all seem to glance at each other before complying. Shuǐ crosses her arms, pleased (if not a bit surprised), and makes her way to the helm. “What’s all this about, Miss Sao?” Barbossa questions with a suspicious glare.

“Hell if I know. Something about my apprenticeship. And it’s Captain Sao until further notice.” Shuǐ turns to Gibbs. “Mister Gibbs, our course?”

He squints at her, and when she winds her hand expectantly, he goes: “Ah, yes. We should be startin’ our trek through the Drake Passage in the next few days. At the moment, we’re just off the coast of southern Chile.”

“And how rough are we expecting the passage to be?”

“It’s anyone’s guess, Miss—Cap’n. It could be smooth sailin’, or we could be facin’ off with a typhoon.”

Shuǐ purses her lips. “How wonderful. Thank you, Mister Gibbs, I can take the wheel from here.”

“And…what’ll I do, Cap’n?” he asks, letting her take over.

“Oh. Good question. Hoist the jib.”

As Gibbs walks off, Barbossa puts his hands behind his back. “I reviewed the haul from the auction with Bootstrap and Miss Liang this mornin’. We didn’t come away with as much as planned.”

“Three sacks of gold are nothing to scoff at,” Shuǐ notes.

“Two an’ a half. Maybe even a quarter,” Barbossa corrects.

She gives him a look. “They’ll get us what we need. And once we get into the Caribbean, we’ll have fresh targets.”

“Whatever ye say, Miss Sao.”

“Captain.”

They stand there in silence for a moment. While Shuǐ watches the crew run to and from different posts, Barbossa questions, “And have ye thought about what we’ll do if the House of Trade decides to trail us?”

She glances at him. “No.”

Barbossa raises an eyebrow. “To be perfectly candid with you, I was a bit preoccupied yesterday with Jack bleeding out on top of me,” Shuǐ retorts. “We’ll lose them in the Drake Passage.”

“Ah, but they could follow us. Both parties will be vulnerable.”

“Then we’ll outrun them, and if that doesn’t work, we’ll stand our ground. I suppose we should hope for a storm, in that case—no one cares about three sacks of gold that much. They’re rich enough to reimburse their benefactors for their losses.”

“Do we have enough gunpowder for a fight, Miss Sao?”

“Fifteen tons,” Shuǐ recalls. “Last I counted, anyway.”

“And how much do we have at the immediate moment?” Barbossa asks.

Shuǐ pauses, then looks at him. “Well, why don’t you go check, First Mate?”

“Really?”

“Really. Go make yourself useful, rather than badgering me about it.”

Barbossa eyes her for a moment and nods stiffly. “Alright then.”

As he leaves, Shuǐ beams to herself. Well, this isn’t that hard. And now that she’s gotten Barbossa off of her back, she might actually be able to enjoy her brief stint as captain. It’ll be much nicer without someone breathing down her neck the whole time.

Sometime after midday, she hands the wheel off and goes to get some lunch from the galley. Jia looks up while she’s clearing dishes, her eyes immediately drawn to Jack’s hat on Shuǐ’s head. “Ah, so that’s where you’ve been all day. How is Sparrow?”

“He seems to be doing alright,” Shuǐ replies, taking a plate. “When I looked into the captain’s quarters a moment ago, he was sleeping, so I left him alone. He was up for a bit last night and this morning before he shoved me on deck and told me I was captain now.”

“You’re in charge? That must make you happy,” Jia comments.

“Anything beats dealing with Barbossa.”

“And you’re faring well?”

Shuǐ smiles. “I’ve been doing alright so far. I’m just grateful the crew hasn’t complained.”

Jia shrugs. “Well, if Sparrow gave the order, it makes sense. His word is law on this ship, even if it means humoring you.”

“Would it hurt you to give me a little credit now and then?”

Jia gives her a sly smirk, but before she’s able to retort, Bill comes into the galley. “Shuǐ, there’s a–”

Shuǐ turns to him with a mild glare, pointing at Jack’s hat. “Mister Turner, does this mean nothing to you?”

“Right, right, sorry. Captain, we need you on deck.”

She grins and turns back to Jia. “I love this. I’m going to ask Jack to make me captain more often.”

“I hope he doesn’t,” Jia replies jokingly, “for our sakes.”

Shuǐ elbows her playfully before following Bill to the hatch. “What’s going on?”

“Mister Gibbs says there’s a light storm brewing,” he reports.

“What makes him think that?” she asks as she steps onto the deck, and her question is instantly answered as she feels a gust of wind blow at her back. Shuǐ uses one hand to pin Jack’s hat to her head and trains her eyes on the sky, frowning when she sees pale grey clouds gathering in the distance. “Never mind. Mister Gibbs!”

“Here, Cap’n,” he calls down from the helm. “Doesn’t look like much from here, but we’d be better off not takin’ any chances.”

Shuǐ nods, pausing halfway up the steps. “So, what are our options?”

“We could run the risk of gettin’ caught in the storm, or we could try goin’ around it. Might take us off course for the Drake Passage, though, and we might get caught in it anyway.”

Her eyes narrow, and she turns to the sky again. Shuǐ hasn’t watched Jack captain the Black Pearl through a storm yet—they’ve had bouts of rain, and he’s talked about it now and again, but it’s not the same. There’s no telling how severe the situation could get until they get into the thick of it, at which point it’s too late to go around. But if the House of Trade is following them, they want to take the fastest route possible to the Drake Passage.

As her silence grows, Ragetti and Pintel (who’d been eavesdropping) look at each other. “Maybe we should go tell Captain?” Ragetti suggests.

That kicks Shuǐ into gear. “I am the captain,” she counters, looking at the helm again. “Mister Gibbs, I’ll take the wheel. Prepare the Pearl to enter the storm but keep a weather eye on those clouds. If you see any sign of lightning, we’ll change our course.”

“Aye, Cap’n. All hands, weather quarters!”

The rest of the crew doesn’t move immediately, seeming unsure. “Well?” Shuǐ snaps at them. “To your stations!”

Once they finally respond, she takes her place at the wheel, watching the skies ahead warily. Maybe this isn’t the best idea, and maybe she would be better off asking Jack to take over, but the most important thing right now is solidifying herself as a reliable leader. If the situation grows dire, she’ll divert command, of course. She’d still like to avoid that for as long as possible.

Shuǐ huffs to herself and turns the wheel. It strains against the rocking waves, which become harsher as the wind’s pace quickens. There’s no sign of lightning or thunder, easing her slightly. She also trusts that Gibbs wouldn’t intentionally let her steer Jack’s beloved ship into danger, so if he doesn’t make a call, she’ll forge on ahead.

Barbossa appears on deck as they cross the threshold into the storm. “Master Gibbs, what be the meanin’ of this?” he barks, raindrops beginning to patter around them. “Why are we sailin’ through a squall?”

“Cap’n’s orders!” Gibbs replies.

Shuǐ glances at the deck briefly, just long enough to see Barbossa’s head snap towards her. This should be fun.

She keeps her eyes fixed on the horizon as she hears him stomp up to the helm. “I sincerely hope ye have a remarkable defense for this, Captain,” Barbossa sneers.

“You said it yourself,” Shuǐ retorts. “The House of Trade might follow us into the Drake Passage. Going through the storm is the best way to shake them. There’s no lightning yet. All we have to worry about is the wind blowing us off course, and I can handle that.”

Barbossa glares at her. “And if the storm worsens?”

“I’ve asked Gibbs to take precautions for that very situation.”

“Ye’ve never sailed the Pearl through a storm. Ye don’t know how much she can take.”

“No, I don’t. I’m hoping you will be kind enough to assist me in that.”

“Lass, ye’ve had yer fun. It’s time to hand things back to an experienced–”

“Barbossa, if you’re so concerned about my handling of the situation, then go take it up with Jack,” Shuǐ finally scolds crossly. “I am too busy commanding this vessel to bicker with you. I will take any and all criticisms about my leadership once I am no longer acting as captain. Are we clear?”

Barbossa stares at her for a moment, seemingly stunned at her bluntness. Then he grimaces. “Crystal.”

Shuǐ nods stiffly in reply, turning the wheel with some effort. “Tell the crew to check that all our supplies are stored securely. And double-check that the cannons have been tied down properly.”

“Aye, Captain.”

Once Barbossa is gone, Shuǐ breathes a sigh of relief and flicks her head back, trying to get rid of a stray piece of hair that’s sticking to her face. The rain is coming down harder now and the wood under her hands is starting to grow slick. A particularly rough wave strikes the hull, causing Shuǐ to strain against the wheel as it tries to spin out of position. If she can keep the Black Pearl sailing along the edge of the storm, it’ll give them enough cover without putting them in grave danger.

The wheel pulls left again, but she forces it to the right. Honestly, even if she were to hand things back to Jack, he may not be able to do much more than give commands. His injured shoulder prevents him from having both hands on the wheel, which is very much a two-handed task at the moment.

Not that Shuǐ couldn’t benefit from some support.

She blinks rainwater out of her eyes, keeping her gaze firmly fixed on the horizon. However, when she scans it this time, she sees a welcome sight. “Mister Gibbs!” Shuǐ yells across the deck. “Is that–?”

“A break in the storm!” Gibbs shouts back, finishing her thought as he dashes up to the helm. “Three points to the starboard side!”

“Should we head for it?”

“Not certain. It’ll take a bit of effort to reach, but it may be our only chance to escape the rain before the storm worsens.”

Shuǐ purses her lips, then tightens her grip on the wheel. “Tell the crew to hold on.”

She wrenches the wheel to the right, using all her strength to keep it from spinning back. The Black Pearl groans at the sudden change in direction and crewmembers slide across the slippery deck. Shuǐ holds fast, though, gritting her teeth as she directs the bow toward the stretch of pale sunlight.

Even with the waves battering the hull, the Black Pearl makes it to the break. The rain starts to lessen in power and volume, and though the sky is still overcast, the clouds are thinner. “Alright, Cap’n!” Gibbs cheers as he smacks Shuǐ on the back. “That was some fine sailin’, for your first time in a storm.”

Shuǐ sighs, returning the wheel to its standard position. “Thank you, Mister Gibbs. Take the wheel for me.”

After she hands it off, she comes down the steps to the deck, shouting, “Crew of the Black Pearl!”

Once she has their attention, Shuǐ puts her hands behind her back and holds her head high. “We’ve managed to buy ourselves some time. However, we are not completely safe yet. We’ll keep to the break for as long as possible, but we will have to reenter the storm at some point. Furthermore, this weather does not bode well for our journey through the Drake Passage,” she admits. “While we have this brief moment of security, take it upon yourselves to prepare the Pearl for a more severe tempest. We may not know what awaits us from this point on, but we can take precautions to ensure that we don’t end up in the depths. I’m certain that we can get through this storm unharmed. Am I understood?”

“Aye, Captain!” the crew choruses.

Shuǐ beams at them, but a voice from behind steals her attention. “I might need a bit of clarification, love.”

She turns to see Jack leaning against the door to the captain’s quarters. At first, Shuǐ purses her lips, knowing that her reign as captain is almost over—then decides she might as well have some fun with it if she’s about to give up the mantle. “Mister Sparrow. How kind of you to join us.”

“Ah, my sincerest apologies, Captain,” Jack replies with a grin, going along. “I’m sure my presence was greatly missed.”

Shuǐ scoffs playfully as he approaches her. “Not at all. I fared just fine on my own.”

“I’m sure you did. I would applaud you, but, well–” Jack gestures at his injured arm.

“I’ll excuse it. And I suppose you’ll be wanting this back.” She hands over his hat, shaking the water off of it. “Bit of a warning: I think Barbossa is somewhat frazzled by my command. You may want to go ease his nerves.”

“No wonder you’re so eager to be done with it.”

Shuǐ smiles and turns back to the crew. “Jack’s your captain again. Be nice to him, alright?”

The crewmen just glance at each other, and Jack gives them all a look. “Don’t all get excited at once.”

Shuǐ laughs as she heads down the hatch. Now that she’s been relieved of her duties, she might as well get a few sketches done. Captaining the Black Pearl is harder than she thought. She really does have to make split-second decisions, and she’s still not sure if she made the right calls.

Well, she didn’t sink them. And Jack seemed to approve.

That has to count for something.

Chapter Text

The storm that Shuǐ captained the Black Pearl through is merely a drizzle when compared to what they face in the Drake Passage. Harsh winds bring cold air from the south. It gnaws at the crew as they go about their tasks and stirs up the sea, turning the water into a churning mix of white froth. The Black Pearl sways and creaks more than ever before. Steering becomes a great difficulty, and someone must be at the helm at all times, lest they drift or capsize.

And that’s when things are easy.

When the clouds gather, clumping together in a gray blanket, that’s when the situation gets grim. Even without lightning and thunder, the tempest is vicious. The waves are so large that the ship fully tilts, sending people sliding from one side to the other. Their only way to combat the pelting, icy rain is with the hot fruits, which Jia painstakingly rations into bite-sized pieces during mealtimes. Not to mention it’s near impossible to see in the downpour. They’re all drenched, freezing, and miserable, and they’re not even halfway through.

So, during one of the rare breaks in the rain, Shuǐ decides that if she’s going to die in the Drake Passage, she might as well die with a tattoo.

Of course, everyone is a bit preoccupied with keeping the Black Pearl afloat. She sneaks away from the deck and collects the tattoo kit she’d compiled for herself before finally taking up post in the captain’s quarters. There’s no way anyone but Jack will think of looking for her here, so she gets to work.

And yet, the door to the captain’s quarters swings open as Shuǐ is getting to the needle portion of the process. She curses as she punctures her skin just a bit too deeply. “Shit—ow.”

“Ah, so this is where you’ve been hiding,” Jack remarks. She looks up as he leans against the table, scanning her setup curiously. His coat is awkwardly placed, with his free arm through one sleeve and the other sleeve draped over the sling. “What are you up to?”

Shuǐ shrugs and goes back to work. “I needed a break, and I’ve been meaning to give myself a tattoo since we left Kiribati. I figured I’d take advantage of the storm weaning.”

“Aren’t you resourceful? So, what have you decided on?”

“One moment,” Shuǐ mumbles before setting the needle to the side. She takes a pinch of gunpowder out of the tin she has and smears it into the design on her wrist. Once she’s sure that it’s all in there, she holds her arm out to Jack.

He tilts his head down to get a closer look. “What is that, a bug?”

Shuǐ frowns and pulls her arm away. “It’s a tooth. From the dragon,” she mutters dejectedly. Does it really look like a bug?

“No, I know, love,” Jack chuckles, taking her wrist and holding her arm out again. “Excellent artistry. Best tooth I’ve ever seen if I do say so myself.”

“Oh, hush. Your boats look like fish.”

“Indeed. Why do you listen to anything I say?”

Shuǐ just grins and brings her arm back, rubbing her thumb over the smeared gunpowder. She can still hear the waves sloshing viciously about outside, and in a rare moment of uncertainty, she asks Jack, “Do you think this is my fault?”

“The tattoo? I hope so. You’ve been the only person in here.”

“No, not that,” Shuǐ counters with a slight laugh. “The storms. If I’d gone around the one I sailed us into, we might’ve missed these others, wouldn’t we?”

Jack shrugs. “Might have, I suppose. Might have gotten caught in it anyway. I don’t think your orders control the weather.”

Shuǐ rolls her eyes, but he continues, his free hand flicking the beaded braid in her hair. “I know what you mean, love, but there’s no point second-guessing anything. You had a decision to make, you made it, and that’s all there is of it. Better than anything I could’ve done, seeing as I’ve got an arm out of commission. Besides, the storm’s not that awful.”

She looks up at him again and smiles. But before she can say anything, the Black Pearl jerks and leans with a mighty groan. Shuǐ and Jack both slide across the room, and Shuǐ yelps as the chair tips and spills her onto the floor. Jack, who manages to catch himself against a wall, sighs. “Why does God let me speak?”

“One of them surely enjoys harassing you,” Shuǐ remarks, rubbing the back of her head.

They can hear commotion growing on the deck and Barbossa yelling, “All hands! Man yer stations!”

The Black Pearl leans again. “Looks like we’re in for it,” Jack mutters. “Let’s go, on deck.”

Shuǐ nods and follows. “Aye, Captain.”

When she comes out of their sanctuary, she sees that the rain and wind have picked up again. And this time, both are getting stronger by the minute. Jack pins his hat to his head and grimaces. “I don’t imagine you’d want to be captain at the moment.”

Shuǐ looks at him and raises an eyebrow.

“Thought so. Cut out the sails!” Jack yells across the deck, heading for the mizzenmast. “Mister Gibbs, keep the wind on the quarter! Love, haul away with the others!”

Shuǐ dashes across the deck and grabs the halyard passed to her, tugging fiercely. “Up that rigging!” she hears Barbossa order someone else, and then she feels her boots slip against the soaked wood as the Black Pearl shudders yet again.

This time, the waves break over the side of the ship, sending water streaming across the deck. Shuǐ watches in awe, then quickly refocuses when Bill calls to her, “Shuǐ, the sails!”

She ties off her halyard, then sees that that’s not what Bill was referring to. Some of the ties they’d used to secure the sails on the main mast earlier have come loose. Shuǐ squints through the rain at the flapping fabric as Barbossa barks, “Didn’t ye boneheaded cowards hear me? Up there, or we’ll all be sunk!”

He’s right—the brutal gales are already filling the sail, pulling them off course. But another wave slams into the ship as it dramatically tilts, and this time, it clobbers through the crew. Shuǐ grabs a free line and holds fast as Ragetti glides past her on the slippery boards. She snags the back of his collar just in time, but if she’d been a moment late, he would’ve gone overboard. Pintel, noticing this, exclaims, “Whoever goes up will be sunk anyhow!”

Shuǐ purses her lips, silently agreeing. The mast is slick from rain, just like the rest of the deck. If a wave batters the Black Pearl, whatever poor soul is fixing the ties will either fall to the deck or into the freezing water. Neither of those will be particularly pleasant.

The ship leans again, but Shuǐ uses the line to keep herself from traveling too much. That’s when it hits her—she spots Bill through the downpour and asks, “Where’s Jia?”

“I told her to wait it out in the food locker!” he shouts back.

Shuǐ turns her gaze back to the mast. Her eyes narrow determinedly.

“Tell her to get me a rope. A long one.”

To Jia’s credit, she arrives on deck moments after Bill informs her of their plight. “Gods, it’s much worse than I thought,” she mutters, handing Shuǐ one end of the rope. “I found this in the hold. I hope it can help. What’s it for, anyway?”

“Tie this end around my waist. Bill, tie the other end around the capstan,” Shuǐ instructs as she ensures that she’ll have enough length to keep herself secure. “I’ll go around the mast so the rope has something to catch on. That way, if I fall, you can just haul me back up again.”

“Oh, is that all?” Jia asks dryly.

Shuǐ gives Jia a look and heads for the ratline at the main mast. Once Bill is done tying the other end of the rope around the capstan’s base, he turns to Shuǐ and nods. “Let’s hope this works.”

“Let’s,” Shuǐ agrees. Then she turns her eyes toward the top and begins to climb.

The ratline is rougher against her hands than usual. It rubs her palms raw. But Shuǐ grits her teeth and keeps going, eventually reaching the yard of the sail that’s come loose. She hoists herself onto the opposite yard, then carefully maneuvers herself behind the mast. Her hands cling to wet, smooth wood as she crosses to the yard she needs to fix.

Luckily, she makes it over with little issue. Shuǐ straddles the wooden yard and slowly inches toward the broken ties. The Black Pearl suffers a severe jolt again, rattling the mast violently. Shuǐ’s heart stops as she feels herself slip off the yard—but, just as she’d hoped, she doesn’t fall far.

Her fingers grasp the yard as she glances down at the deck. Jia and Bill are tugging on the rope, keeping it from giving too much slack, and Ragetti and Pintel are rushing to help them. Shuǐ sighs with relief and turns her attention back to the problem at hand. She manages to pull herself up with a little help from those on the deck. As she swings her leg back over the yard, she swears she hears Jack yell to her, “Careful up there! Be a shame if you fell!”

Shuǐ grins to herself and finally reaches the first broken tie. With her hands shivering and her gaze blurred by raindrops, she gets to work. As the crew below hoist the sail, she reaffixes the ties, this time double knotting them so they’ll be completely secure in the violent weather. Strands of hair that have fallen out of her loose updo cling to her wet face. The wind feels like it pushes right through her, causing the chill to settle in her bones.

But when the next wave beats against the hull, Shuǐ stays steady, her focus barely broken.

After she finishes with the last tie, she rakes a hand back through her hair and smiles to herself. “Coming down!” she shouts to the deck as she scoots backward to the mast.

Her descent is slow and steady, and she wonders if her hands are going numb because the ratline doesn’t dig into them as much. The moment Shuǐ’s feet hit the deck, Jia rushes over and throws her arms around her with a peal of laughter. “Thanks for the save,” Shuǐ says with a smile, hugging her back. “It worked well, didn’t it? And you think I’m mad.”

“You are mad,” Jia retorts as she pushes Shuǐ lightly. “You simply manage to pull it off in a way that makes you look sensible.”

She grins, but the Black Pearl shakes, reminding them that they’re not out of the storm’s clutches yet. “And on the note of being sensible,” Jia states, “I’m going back to the food locker.”

Shuǐ nods, grasping for the rigging as another wave cascades over the deck. “Belay that, Miss Jia!” Jack calls to them as he comes down the steps from the helm. “We’ll need to bail as it is; no point letting more water in!”

“Stay near the stern,” Shuǐ tells Jia before going to strengthen a knot that’s coming loose. Just as she pulls it tight, she hears Barbossa yell, “Take cover! Jack, fall back!”

Shuǐ whips around while the wave surges across the deck. She shields her eyes from the salty water with an arm and clutches the rigging as tightly as she can while the ocean douses her. When she looks up again, time seems to stop.

Jack’s hat is lying abandoned on the deck, but there’s no sign of Jack himself. Panicked, Shuǐ drags her gaze from one taffrail to the other, where Pintel and Ragetti are looking overboard.

Overboard.

Time restarts with a sudden rush. The next thing Shuǐ knows, she’s bracing her boot against the taffrail and diving into the churning water.

Even though she was already freezing, the icy temperature of the sea hit her like a thousand little pinpricks. For a moment, her muscles spasm. But she forces herself to move and resists the urge to gasp for air.

Shuǐ blindly kicks toward the surface, inhaling sharply once she reaches it. “Jack!” she shouts as she strains her head and blinks saltwater out of her burning eyes. She can barely see over the peaks of the waves. “Where are you?”

For a horrible moment, there’s no response. Then, behind her, she hears Jack surface as well, coughing. Shuǐ turns and swims toward him the best she can—with only one working arm, there’s no way he’ll be able to tread the water by himself for long.

She ducks under to fight the current, then comes up from below with his free arm around her shoulders. With Jack now clinging to her, Shuǐ directs her gaze toward the Black Pearl. “I’ve got him! Pull us up!”

She knows there’s only half a chance in hell that anyone can hear her over the wind and rain, so she starts swimming to the side of the ship. However, she’s greatly hindered by the swelling waves, not to mention the added weight of Jack. But then something tugs around her waist—the rope. Shuǐ hears from the deck, “Heave! Bring ‘em up!”

Now that the crew is towing them in, she has some extra traction. Shuǐ keeps swimming as hard as she can against the pull of the ocean. Miraculously, they reach the Black Pearl and the crew keeps hauling them up to the deck. When Shuǐ holds Jack’s hand up in the break in the taffrail, Bill and Pintel come to hoist him aboard while Ragetti and Barbossa tug her onto the deck. “Are ye tired of yer life, lass? I knew ye were out of yer head, but that was nigh impressive,” Barbossa scolds.

“Why, thank you,” Shuǐ retorts after she’s done hacking up seawater. She realizes quite quickly that her shivering has gotten aggressive, and when she tries to stand, her joints lock into place. Jia, who’s standing behind Barbossa, helps her to her feet and unties the rope around her waist. “We should get them both below deck,” she says to him. “It’ll do them no good if they stay out in this weather.”

Barbossa nods and looks at Bill. “Bootstrap, take the captain to his quarters. The rest of ye, back to yer posts. And for God’s sake, try not to fall into the sea.”

Shuǐ gives him a look, but as they head for the hatch, she turns to Bill. “I’ll send Jia along with one of the hot fruits. Get Jack warm, alright?”

“Of course,” he assures her. But even when they part ways, Shuǐ is craning her head to keep Jack in sight.

The moment they’re in the food locker, Jia takes one of the hot fruits from their hidden stash and slices it in half. “Get out of those wet clothes and eat that,” she instructs, handing one half to Shuǐ. “I’ll be right back.”

“What are you, my mother?” she counters jokingly, but she quickly bites into the fruit. It fills her chilled bones with warmth, and Shuǐ sighs with relief before digging in again.

While Jia is delivering the other half to the captain’s quarters, Shuǐ takes her advice and changes. Once she has dry clothes on, she lets her hair down and wrings the water out of it, pursing her lips as she watches the droplets collect on the floor. She’s just bringing her head back up when Jia reenters. “Feeling warm?”

“Warmer,” Shuǐ admits, sitting down on one of the crates. “And here I thought we packed our fur robes for nothing.”

Jia smiles and sits across from her, also shaking water out of her hair. There’s a brief pause between them, and then Shuǐ leans back and crosses her arms. “I’m ready for the lecture, by the way.”

“What lecture?”

“The ‘don’t ever do something like that again’ lecture. I’ve heard it enough times from you; I’m prepared.”

Jia gives her a look. “I’m not going to lecture you for trying to save Sparrow, Shuǐ. I know better than that.”

“Ah, I see. You pity me because I nearly drowned,” Shuǐ teases.

“No, really—I’m more astonished than anything. Even your most reckless decisions usually have some thought put behind them, but that truly was a rash choice.”

“I thought you said you weren’t going to lecture me.”

“I’m not lecturing you! I’m admiring your incredible lack of regard for your well-being when it comes to your captain.”

Shuǐ stares at Jia, then narrows her eyes. “You’re making fun of me.”

“I am,” Jia confesses with a slight grin. “That’s what you get for nearly drowning.”

“You have an awful lot of nerve for someone who is sixteen years behind me in swordsmanship experience.”

Jia giggles while somebody knocks on the door. “Come in,” Shuǐ answers.

To her slight surprise, Bill pokes his head in. “Hey. Are you alright?” he asks.

“Perfectly. And warm, too. How’s Jack?”

“Oh, he’s just fine—uh, he sent me to ask for you, actually.”

Shuǐ looks at him curiously. “What does he want me for?”

“Dunno,” Bill replies with a half-hearted shrug. “He didn’t say.”

She stares at him for a moment, then turns to Jia, whom she can tell is pretending to be equally bewildered. Still, Shuǐ eats the last of the fruit, stands, and heads for the captain’s quarters. In turn, she pretends not to notice how Jia and Bill both lean out of the doorway to watch her go.

When Shuǐ reaches the cabin, she knocks and calls out, “It’s me,” at the same time. After a moment, Jack opens it. He’s ditched his coat, and his hat is sitting on the table behind him. He too looks drier and warmer than when she last saw him. “There you are. Come on, come in.”

Shuǐ does, shutting the door behind her. “How are you?” he asks as he moves to shove some fallen charts back onto his shelves. “Not cold, I hope.”

“I’m fine,” Shuǐ responds, her eyes following him across the room. He’s being odder than usual, all of a sudden. “Why’d you send for me?”

Jack looks up from spreading a map out on his table, seemingly caught off guard. “Oh. Well, I was going to start with small talk, but I suppose we can get to the heart of it if you want.”

“And the heart of it is?” Shuǐ questions while he approaches her.

Jack grabs her shoulder firmly, looking more serious than she’s seen him before. She almost flinches—almost. “Don’t you ever do something like that again.”

“…What?”

“Jumping from the Pearl? You could’ve drowned!” Jack hisses, throwing his hand up. “What in God’s bloody name were you thinking?”

Shuǐ’s shock at his sudden change in demeanor is swiftly replaced by fierce indignance. “I was thinking that you were in the process of drowning in ice-cold waters with only one working arm,” she retorts sharply. “I was already tethered to the ship; I was safe.”

“You didn’t know that. You easily could’ve died.”

“Then please, Captain, accept my most sincere apology for saving your life. At the very least, perhaps this ordeal has helped you understand why I was so broken up over you getting shot.”

Jack pulls away. “What d’you mean by that?”

“Oh, don’t play that card with me. You know it was my fault,” Shuǐ accuses. “You could’ve died then.”

“It was a ridiculous angle to fire at us from,” he counters after a beat, turning away. “I knew there’d be no way to make a fatal shot.”

Shuǐ frowns. “Then why not let me take the fall?”

“What, I’m just supposed to let you get shot?”

“Well, by your logic, I’m just supposed to let you drown.”

Jack grumbles something she can’t understand and continues reorganizing his charts. “Look, you might be able to move on from things like that without batting an eye, but I can’t,” Shuǐ declares, resting her hands on the other end of the table. “When someone leaves their blood on my hands, I tend to be shaken up about it.”

“Then you’re in for a rough go of it out here,” Jack retorts.

“And when someone dives into the ocean after you, you appear to feel the same way,” she continues. “Finally, we’re on the same page.”

Jack looks at Shuǐ and his eyes narrow. “They’re two completely different scenarios.”

“They’re not, and you know it. I know it. Why did you push me, Jack?”

“Why did you jump, Shuǐ?”

She glares back at him before she can stop herself. “I owed you.”

Jack braces his hand on the table between them and leans toward her. “Bullshit.”

Their gazes stay locked for what feels like eternity. Neither is willing to back down. But neither is willing to admit the truth. It’s not something they’re used to: they both conceal parts of themselves for different purposes. The thought of being truly open and honest with someone has only come after coaxing from the other—which neither is going to get, with them at odds.

Finally, Jack straightens up and turns his back to Shuǐ, returning to his charts. “Jia’ll be wondering what’s taking you so long.”

“Am I supposed to take that as a dismissal, Captain?” she asks icily.

“Yes.”

“Thank you.”

Shuǐ goes for the door and firmly shuts it behind her. But she doesn’t go anywhere. She only gets a few paces away before she’s rooted in place, and she leans against the wall, putting her face in her hands.

Gods, she’s impossible. She was so frustrated by Jack’s hypocrisy that she missed the glaring signs of his true intentions.

He was scared. He was worried about her. About her.

And yes, asking if she’s lost her mind isn’t the best way to go about that. But she’s sure he’s recognizing that, too. So, what’s next, now that the door has shut? Does she return to the food locker and let both of them stew in this madness, or does she go back to Jack and force both of them to swallow their pride?

Shuǐ stands there for another minute. Then she turns and heads for the door.

She won’t let them leave things like this. They both know why he pushed her.

They both know why she jumped.

Chapter Text

Shuǐ doesn’t bother knocking this time. “Jack, listen to me.”

He’s still over by his shelves, running his free hand over his face. “I dismissed you.”

She refuses to take it to heart. “Jack.”

“What?” he asks sharply, turning to face her.

Her hands grasp his slightly damp collar, and she tugs him toward her. “This is why.”

Shuǐ kisses him. Any apprehension that crept into her during those seemingly long strides across the room melts away the moment her lips meet his. His face is rough against hers. He tastes like…rum and seawater. Her grip loosens as Jack kisses her back, his free hand brushing across her face and resting at the nape of her neck.

Oh, this is actually a bit nice. She never thought she’d get the chance to kiss anyone, or at least, not that she’d enjoy it when she ultimately did. But it’s fascinating, the way they move in sync, despite never having done this together before. She’s suddenly warmer than before. She wonders if she’ll be able to stop.

Eventually, though, Shuǐ pulls away and stares at Jack with bated breath. It’s an incredibly perilous move on her part. She may have just destroyed any standing she had with him based purely on intuition.

Jack opens his eyes and stares back at her, studying her expression. “Well,” he says finally, “you make an incredibly compelling argument, love.”

Her body filling with relief again, Shuǐ smiles and laughs, draping her arms around his shoulders. Jack grins and leans closer, his lips barely ghosting over hers. “Do enlighten me further.”

Shuǐ obliges and kisses him again. Jack hums into it, making their lips buzz in the most delightful way. He starts walking backward, and she has no choice but to follow and let him pull her down to straddle him when he sits on the bunk. She’s enjoying this more and more, with every passing moment that proves her right.

This time, Jack is the one who moves away. “Does this mean we’re finally going to finish our discussion?”

“What discussion?” Shuǐ asks, going for another kiss. (This is going to become a problem.)

“Alright, maybe we should just start over,” Jack chuckles. He kisses her, then continues, holding her face to keep her from trying for yet another. “Love, have you ever been courted?”

Shuǐ pauses, then smirks. “Ah, that discussion. No, I can’t say that I have.”

“But if there was a man–”

“That I approved of.”

“Yes, of course. If there was a man so blessed, would you have him?”

Shuǐ leans back and crosses her arms mock-thoughtfully. “I suppose if I knew him well enough.”

“And if you did?” Jack asks, running his free hand up and down her side in a way that is incredibly distracting and not at all conducive to her thought process.

“Well, he’d have to be able to embrace my wild spirit.”

“Alright.”

“And he’d need to be bolder than any sailor, Navy or pirate.”

“Aye, I completely agree.”

“And roguishly handsome.”

“You think I’m handsome?”

Shuǐ looks at Jack again and grins. “I didn’t say I was talking about you.”

“I damn well pray you’re talking about me,” Jack retorts playfully, kissing her again. “I’ll volunteer as a sacrifice if that’s what it takes.”

“So, you’re offering, then?”

“If you’ll have me.”

“Well, you don’t exactly strike me as the courting type of man,” Shuǐ admits, though she takes his jaw in her hands as she speaks. Now that all bets are off, it seems she can’t keep her hands off of him.

Jack smirks. “You said yourself that you’re not the courting type of woman. I couldn’t imagine a better pair.”

Shuǐ tilts her head, then smiles. “Well, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“I could break your heart,” he states nonchalantly. “Though I believe I’d be sending myself to the depths if I did, so I don’t plan to.”

“I could break your heart,” she retorts. “You’re not worried about that?”

“Not overtly. You like me.”

Shuǐ leans closer. “Maybe a little more than all the rest.”

She kisses Jack slowly, letting her hands fall to his shoulders. His free hand comes up to the back of her head again, combing through her hair. Gods, she wants to kiss him forever—the persistent chill that was left in her bones from the storm has all but disappeared with her pressed in the heat of his body and his lips. And Shuǐ is no fool; she knows Jack has kissed plenty of women before her. But there’s something about his movements that’s so leisurely, so gentle, so sweet. It sparks another dangerous hope in her, that perhaps to him, she’s different than all the rest.

When Shuǐ pulls away this time, she rests her head against his. Their breaths are shared, almost in unison. “What are we going to tell the crew?” Jack questions abruptly.

“Why do we have to tell the crew anything?” Shuǐ mumbles, her brow furrowing as she straightens up. “That’ll just complicate things.”

Jack scoffs in reply. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I could do without them interrupting our moments, especially now. Do you know how hard it is to make advances when you’ve got near two dozen men under your command?”

“Of course, but don’t you think they’ll view interfering with us as a sport if we tell them anything’s changed?”

“Oh, you’ve got it all figured out, haven’t you?”

Shuǐ grins. “You just want Bill to know.”

“I will not confirm nor deny that,” Jack refutes.

She starts to laugh but is cut off by a knock at the door. “Speak of the devil,” Jack mutters before calling out, “Busy!”

“We’re comin’ out of the storm, Cap’n,” Pintel responds. “Barbossa thought you’d ought to know.”

“Yes, yes, now bugger off.”

As Pintel’s footsteps fade, Shuǐ slides off of Jack and stands. “I should go, anyhow. Someone will get suspicious if we’re both missing for much longer.”

Jack harrumphs. “See, this is what I mean.”

“Don’t pout,” she retorts teasingly, kissing him briefly before she crosses toward the door. She has to pretend like it doesn’t pain her, or else they’ll never get anything done again. “At least you don’t have to pine for me anymore.”

Shuǐ only gets past the table when she hears Jack stand as well. “One more thing, love. I think you’ll be quite intrigued by it.”

She turns as he slides his compass across the table toward her. When she raises her brows at him, he says, “Open it.”

So, Shuǐ does, though she’s not entirely sure it’s not a ploy to make her stay. The needle circles and points directly to Jack. “Well?” she asks, not seeing his point.

“That compass is enchanted. Charmed to lead the holder to whatever they desire most,” he explains.

Shuǐ glances up at him momentarily before returning to the compass—then looks up fully, her eyes widening. Jack just grins back at her. So, he already knows what it points to for her. Well, she hadn’t known, so she hadn’t exactly been secretive about it. Then all those times she’d caught him looking at the compass while he was with her…

She inquires anyway. “What does it point to for you?”

“What do you think, love?”

Shuǐ smiles and slides the compass back to him, making it to the door this time. “I’ll see you in the morning, Jack.”

“I look forward to it,” he replies.

She gives him one last look before she leaves. As she makes her way to the deck, her heart feels strangely fluttery. She reaches up to her lips.

This is certainly going to make things interesting.

…

When she doesn’t find Jia in the food locker the next morning, she makes a beeline for the galley. Jia looks up from preparing breakfast as Shuǐ enters, making sure there’s no one in the mess. “Well, how did it go last night?”

Shuǐ covers Jia’s mouth with her hand. “I’m going to tell you something and you have to promise not to scream.”

Jia’s brow furrows, but Shuǐ hisses, “Jia, promise.”

Bewildered, she nods. Shuǐ brings her hand down and shoots one more wary glance at the still-empty mess. Finally, she turns back to Jia and lowers her voice until it’s barely audible. “I kissed Jack.”

Jia’s jaw drops. Shuǐ quickly brings up a hand. “Don’t. You promised.”

Her mouth closes. After a moment, Jia nods rigidly. Shuǐ has to admit, she’s doing a good job of internalizing her reaction. “And?” she asks.

“And I liked it,” Shuǐ whispers excitedly. “I wasn’t sure I would—we’d been arguing, but I didn’t want to leave it at that, and then it just happened. And it was nice. He was surprisingly good at it.”

“Alright, stop,” Jia interrupts, running a hand over her face. “I’m still trying to reconcile with the image of you kissing someone. Do not bring the captain into this.”

Shuǐ laughs. “Ah, I’m sorry. Have I scarred you for life?”

“I fear you have. At least you two won’t gaze longingly at each other anymore.”

“I do not gaze longingly!”

Jia gives her a look. “Trust me, you do.”

Shuǐ nudges her slightly and glances out into the mess again (thankfully, it remains empty). “And you know what you’re getting yourself into, I hope?” Jia questions as she goes back to work.

“Well, no, not really,” Shuǐ admits. “I have no idea how any of these courting things work. But I doubt Jack does, either. I’d be perfectly happy if we carried on the way we have been.”

Jia nods. “As long as it works for you.”

Shuǐ thinks she’s going to leave it at that, but after she starts making plates, Jia turns back to her and grins. “I believe I told you so, by the way.”

“There it is. I was wondering when it would make an appearance,” Shuǐ remarks dryly.

“Someone has to keep you humble,” Jia jokes, handing a plate of food to her. “And the gods know it isn’t going to be anyone else on this ship.”

“Speaking of which—don’t tell the others about this. I figure that once we do, it’ll be the end of peace on earth as we know it.”

Jia’s brow furrows. “Then why’d you tell me?”

“Because you’re my sister, and I knew that if I didn’t, you’d toss me overboard,” Shuǐ says before taking a bite of the dumpling.

“Anything to protect your future as a captain, huh?”

“You know it.”

After breakfast, Shuǐ trots up to the deck and takes place at the helm. She hasn’t been there long before she sees Jack emerge from the hatch. When he turns to her, she holds back a smile. There’s an unspoken understanding between them now that makes the air feel electric, and the fact that no one else knows makes it even more exciting—it’s the same game as before, with new rules. “Good morning, Captain,” she greets coolly as she watches him come up the steps.

“Morning,” Jack responds, and something about his tone makes Shuǐ think that he’s reached the same conclusion. He immediately comes to stand behind her, his free arm snaking around her waist. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen Hector about.”

“I haven’t.”

“Excellent.” Jack scans the deck, but the few men that are on it are busy with their daily tasks, so he quickly kisses her on the cheek.

“Jack,” Shuǐ scolds jokingly, rolling her shoulder back so he’ll move away. She doesn’t need him testing her resolve on deck. “If you’re not careful–”

Jack goes in for another. “Oh, c’mon, love. No one’s looking.”

She turns her head—partly to look at him and partly to block his advances. “Patience is a virtue, you know.”

“So what? We’re not religious.”

Shuǐ can’t help but snicker as she looks forward. Jack seems to relent, resting his chin on her shoulder. “It’s bad enough you decided to seduce me when I only have one ambulatory arm. Now you won’t even let me woo you.”

“You think I did that on purpose?”

“Yes. You are a soulless, vindictive woman.”

“But I’m awfully pretty, aren’t I?” Shuǐ questions with a sly smile as she turns to him again.

Before she can move away, Jack swiftly leans forward and pecks her on the lips. “So you are. All the more reason to put on a show.”

“Down, boy,” Shuǐ replies before looking up as someone approaches the helm. Luckily, it’s only Gibbs, who reports, “We’ll be out of the Drake Passage here soon, Cap’n. From there, it’s smooth sailin’.”

Jack straightens up, but he doesn’t let go of Shuǐ. “Marvelous. Set a course for the nearest port—we’ll need to restock after this ordeal. And drink.”

“Aye.” Gibbs appears to look from Jack to Shuǐ, then asks, “Is there somethin’ we should know, Cap’n?”

“Nothing that concerns you,” Jack says dismissively.

“Beggin’ your pardon, Cap’n. I was only curious.”

Once Gibbs is out of earshot, Shuǐ lightly nudges Jack. “See? Gibbs is already onto us.”

“He sees romance everywhere. Nothing to worry about.”

“If you say so.”

Gibbs returns a little while later with a course chartered for a port that they’ll be able to reach before nightfall. The Black Pearl is docked and settled by the time the last slivers of sunlight are dipping over the horizon. Shuǐ accompanies Jia to the market this time, curious as to what the harbors look like now that they are entirely on the other side of the world. As they’re walking back to the ship, goods in hand, Shuǐ spots Bill up ahead, shaking hands with somebody. “What do you suppose that’s about?” Jia asks, having also seen it.

Shuǐ shrugs and watches curiously as Bill turns and waves to them. “Was that a friend of yours?” she inquires as she and Jia approach.

“Oh, no. We were arranging passage back to England,” Bill tells her, taking one sack of grains from Jia. “He just agreed to have me on his ship.”

Jia raises an eyebrow. “Why are you going to England?”

“Because it’s where his lovely Dahlia resides,” Shuǐ teases, nudging Bill with her elbow. “So, you’re going home?”

He nods. “For a little while. At least a few months; I owe Dolly and our boy that much. Then it’ll be back to the sea.”

“Well, if you’re leaving, you should join us for drinks tonight,” she suggests. It’s a purely selfish request, Shuǐ can’t deny that. She’s on good terms with all of the crew, but there’s no question that Bill is her favorite. Something about him reminds her of her older brothers, and as glad as she is that he’ll be seeing his loved ones, she’ll be sad to watch him go.

Bill hums to himself. “Oh, I don’t know. They’re setting off pretty early in the morning.”

“Then don’t drink. Play games. Gamble. Not with me, though, you’ll lose.”

He laughs as they step onto the Black Pearl’s deck. “Maybe I’ll do just one drink.”

“Splendid.” Shuǐ turns to Jia. “What about you?”

“If I must,” Jia says with a sigh.

It doesn’t take them long to find the rest of the crew once they set off again. As soon as they walk into the bar, Jia and Bill immediately get roped into a game of cribbage, which Bill mostly joins to coach Jia through the rules. Shuǐ strolls past tables of patrons and eventually hears Jack call to her through the ruckus: “Over here, love.”

She leans over the back of his chair, noticing that there are no open spots. “There you are. What are you all playing?”

“Basset. You should join.”

“I would, but you’ve already started and there are no more seats.”

Jack sets his cards face down and beckons to her with his free hand. Shuǐ gives him a brief look. Still, she takes it and sits across his legs, immediately scooping up his cards. “Hey,” Pintel starts suspiciously, but Jack interjects. “I’ve only got one moving hand and it’s occupied. I’m still calling all my plays.”

Said hand is currently twirling a strand of Shuǐ’s hair around his fingers, but he gets no more objections. Once the game starts up again, she whispers to him, “My good luck isn’t going to miraculously transfer to you just because I’m sitting on you.”

“Yeah? Maybe we should kiss and see if that works,” Jack replies in a murmur.

Shuǐ holds back a giggle and leans closer to him. When she looks up from the cards, she can see Jia and Bill across the bar. Jia throws her arms up in celebration while Jack takes one of the cards from the set and places it down. “I bet on the queen.”

Gibbs looks at the cards laid out on the table, then shows his—also a queen. Since he’s the banker, that means Jack loses. He squints at Gibbs’s card before looking at Shuǐ again. “I say we try the second method now.”

She glances up at him and sighs. “Oh, alright.”

Jack lights up, but Shuǐ only kisses him on the cheek before sifting back through their dealt hand. “I was thinking more direct contact,” he states, leaning in again.

She gently pushes his face away. “No.”

Gibbs snorts, and Pintel and Ragetti are clearly using their cards to mask their snickers. Jack just huffs defeatedly and hands over the shillings he bet. As the next round begins, Shuǐ feels his hand lightly squeeze her hip. She drops one of hers and laces her fingers with his, squeezing back. The metal of his rings is cool against her hand.

The distance between her and Singapore feels greater than ever, and she couldn’t be more relieved. There’s nothing that can steal this peculiar sense of peace from her.

As far as she knows, anyway.

Chapter Text

After a few days of sailing toward the Caribbean islands, Jack gathers the crew around the capstan. “Alright, gents and ladies. We have an abundance of time and, having completed our quest for a dragon, nothing to do. What should our next stop be on our grand adventure?”

“We could get some rest in Tortuga,” Gibbs suggests. “There may be some knowledge worth knowin’ about around there, pertainin’ to treasure and the like.”

“I say we raid a port!” Pintel exclaims. “Give those Navy dogs somethin’ to bark about.”

Barbossa shakes his head. “Nay, we’re better off stickin’ to merchant ships as much as we can. What we should really do is pawn off some of the more useless plunder we’ve got. Like that mirror in yer quarters, Jack.”

“I like the mirror, thank you very much,” Jack retorts. “It’s called décor. Besides, the ladies use it more often than I do.”

While talk of their next move continues, Jia leans over to Shuǐ. “Do you ever wonder if our governments are run as inefficiently as this ship?”

Shuǐ snorts but doesn’t reply, instead scanning the crew. The aimless sailing has been bothering her, so she’s glad they’re at least trying to remedy it. When her eyes land on Ragetti, she realizes he’s not paying attention to the discussion at all. His eyes are fixed on the sky, and he squints at the distant clouds. “Ragetti, what are you looking at?” Shuǐ questions, cutting through the conversation.

He pops out his wooden eye, wipes it on his sleeve, then pops it back in and looks up again. “Don’t you think that bird is getting bigger?”

Shuǐ turns around. Sure enough, a large bird is circling the Black Pearl—and it appears to be coming closer. “Curious-looking thing, isn’t it?” Ragetti remarks.

“Duck!” Jack yells, dropping to the deck.

“Looks more like a pelican to me,” Pintel muses before being clobbered by the large seabird.

Shuǐ picks her head up as Gibbs shoos the pelican away, and it lands on the capstan with a guttural croak. She stands up fully, watching it pace about and flap its wings. Finally, it stops in front of Jack and opens its beak. “What is it doing?” Jia questions as she eyes the bird warily.

Jack grimaces and hesitantly sticks his hand inside the pelican’s mouth. “Jack!” Shuǐ starts, surprised, while Jia shakes her head with her eyes squeezed shut. “Oh, that’s disgusting.”

What’s even more shocking, though, is that when Jack pulls his hand out, he’s holding a glass bottle with a rolled-up piece of parchment in it. The pelican hacks, shakes its head back and forth, then croaks at them all one more time before taking flight. Jia watches it fly off and shudders. “What on earth was that about?”

Shuǐ, on the other hand, observes Jack carefully. Once he’s got the paper out of the bottle with some help from Barbossa, he barely looks at it for more than a moment before his eyes widen, and he suddenly announces, “Back to work. We’ll pick this up later.”

The rest of the crew begins to disperse, but Shuǐ’s brow furrows. “Why? Is something wrong?”

“Undetermined,” Jack responds, waving her away. “Nothing worth you worrying about.”

Before she has time to push further, he’s heading for his quarters. Shuǐ narrows her eyes slightly. If it was worth interrupting the meeting he called (regardless of whether said meeting was going anywhere or not), it must be of some importance. But Jack clearly wants to be left alone with whatever information he’s just discovered, so she’ll respect that for now.

Barbossa, however, is someone she’s never reluctant to pester.

When Shuǐ walks up to the helm, Barbossa immediately says, “I don’t know why he’s actin’ like that.”

Shuǐ crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow. “Even if I did, why would I be tellin’ ye anything, Miss Sao?” Barbossa retorts.

“Because of the two of us, who is he least likely to resist if he becomes difficult?” she inquires.

Barbossa looks at her, then huffs. “A fair point. I only briefly glimpsed it, but the seal on that letter appeared to be from the Keeper of the Code.”

“The Keeper of the Code. As in, the Pirate Code?”

“Only one Code to be had, lass.”

Shuǐ purses her lips and looks out at the sea. Whenever they begin to talk pirate politics, she wishes more than ever that her father had given her some kind of education on the Brethren Court and their operations. Not knowing anything makes her feel terribly inferior, especially as someone directly linked to a Pirate Lord. “What could the Keeper of the Code possibly want with Jack? We haven’t broken any rules, have we?”

“Doesn’t have to be about the Code,” Barbossa tells her. “After all, the Keeper is Jack’s father.”

“…What?”

“Ah, so he hasn’t imparted that bit of knowledge to ye, has he?”

Shuǐ glares at Barbossa and heads back to the deck. Jack’s father is the Keeper of the Code—well, that certainly does shed new light on things. If it is a family matter, it doesn’t concern her at all. She’s sure Jack will be back on deck in no time.

But Shuǐ doesn’t see him for the rest of the day. So, when dinner rolls around, she volunteers to take his meal to his quarters. She doesn’t bother knocking; she just balances the plates on one arm and walks in. “Dinner.”

Jack flips over the parchment he was looking at—the letter, she assumes—then turns to her. “I was going to come to the mess.”

“Well, I figured since you’ve been shut in here for most of the day, I might as well join you. Away from all the prying eyes,” Shuǐ adds, setting the plates down and sitting on the edge of the table.

He grins, but rather than reciprocate her teasing talk, she notices his eyes flickering back to the letter. She watches him for a moment before she starts eating. “So, what does your father want?”

Jack’s head jerks toward her. “How’d you–”

“You’re not the only person susceptible to my charms, Jack.”

He raises his brows at her before taking a bite of the fish on his plate. Shuǐ waits, looking at him expectantly. “It’s nothing that concerns the rest of you,” Jack says finally.

“Except that it’s shut you in here,” she points out. “And due to our new arrangement, I would argue that more than ever, what concerns you concerns me.”

It’s only been a week since they finally laid their feelings bare, but instead of settling into any awkwardness, Shuǐ feels more open to Jack than ever—she only assumed he felt the same, though she supposes this is the deciding moment for that. Jack looks at her for a moment, then sighs and slides over the letter. Shuǐ takes it and folds it open. “My grandmama is coming up on ninety years. Apparently, she’s holding some grand soiree on Shipwreck Island to celebrate.”

“I take it you’re invited,” Shuǐ states, scanning the somewhat-foreign words.

“Everyone is, by the looks of things.”

She briefly reads the letter and passes it back to him. “So, it’s like a family reunion.”

Jack hums dismissively. “It is a gathering of people I am more or less related to, yes.”

Well, there’s her answer. Shuǐ nods and goes back to eating her dinner. She doesn’t realize Jack is still looking at her until she sets her plate aside. “What?”

“Aren’t you going to say something?”

“About what?”

“I don’t know,” Jack admits with a shrug. “Something about whether I should attend or not.”

“Oh. I wasn’t going to.”

Jack huffs lightly and picks up the letter, reading it over again. “Do you want to go?” Shuǐ asks as she shifts closer to him on the table.

“I’m undecided. I was going to use you as a verdict, but tragically, you are of no help,” he mutters.

Shuǐ tilts her head. “I decided to go gallivanting with a stranger whom I had previously tried to kill on two consecutive occasions just to piss off my father. Why did you ever think my advice concerning family matters would be useful?”

“That’s precisely why I thought you’d be able to assist.”

She laughs, and Jack grins back, some genuine humor in it this time. “Well, what’s the worst that could happen?” she questions. “I think it’s best to establish that before you make any decisions. They won’t try and put you in the brig again, will they?”

“Can’t say for sure,” Jack admits. “But even if they don’t, it could very well get unpleasant. My family is rowdy. Their favorite pastime is ganging up on easy targets.”

Shuǐ nods understandingly. “And the best that could happen?”

He snorts. “To tell you plainly, love, there isn’t much that would make up for the worst of it.”

“Then we won’t go. There’s no point if it’s going to cause you hassle.”

Jack nods. But he drums his fingers against the table, still looking unsure. Shuǐ watches him, then hooks her foot under the bottom of his chair and tugs it toward her. “Alright, you clearly have some unresolved feelings regarding this family—this gathering of people you are more or less related to,” she corrects when Jack narrows his eyes at her. “What’s the root of that?”

“I don’t have unresolved feelings,” Jack refutes. “I don’t have feelings about anything. What’s a feeling? Never seen one.”

Shuǐ raises an eyebrow. “No feelings about anything, huh?”

Jack stares at her for a moment. He seems to realize his mistake, but he quickly deflects. “Grandmama wouldn’t gather all of us for something as trivial as a party. She must have something else up her sleeve—she’s shifty like that.”

Shuǐ almost says, “You’re one to talk,” but resists the urge. “And you want to know what it is.”

“I have a hunch. Dear old Dad was discussing giving up his spot on the Brethren Court, last I heard. He’s already Keeper of the Code. He doesn’t need to be Pirate Lord of Madagascar, too. My bet is Grandmama wants to keep it in the family and see the uproar when he announces his successor.”

“Do you think it’ll be you?”

Jack rolls his eyes. “Of course not. I’m mad, love, not delusional.”

“Glad we cleared that up,” Shuǐ jokes. “Then are we going or not?”

“Well, when we decided we weren’t going, I wasn’t completely settled by that. So, I guess we’re going.”

“And you’ll be alright?”

“They haven’t seen me in a few years. There’s a good chance no one will recognize me, which would be the best-case scenario.” Jack’s gaze drifts to Shuǐ, and he smirks as he stands and leans over her. “And if they do recognize me, then I get to show off my magnificent, extraordinary–”

“I don’t accept flattery from men who don’t have feelings about me,” Shuǐ interrupts, putting her hand on his chest and pushing him away. “Honestly, Captain Sparrow, what kind of woman do you think I am?”

“Really?”

She gives Jack a look, and he relents. “I have feelings about you. I’m not telling you which ones.”

Shuǐ grins and drapes her arms over his shoulders. “Then I suppose I can make an exception.”

“Lucky me,” Jack remarks as his lips capture hers.

…

It takes them another half-week to sail to Shipwreck Island, and Shuǐ still doesn’t see the island on the horizon until the sun has started its descent on their fourth day of travel. It’s an impressive bit of land, certainly. To those unaware, it would hardly seem like the type of place to house the Brethren Court. It’s densely populated by trees on the outside, without a single sign of human life. “Head for the cove,” Barbossa calls to Gibbs at the helm. “All hands, bestir yerselves and prepare for the Devil’s Throat.”

“What’s the Devil’s Throat?” Shuǐ asks Pintel as she ties off one of the halyards.

“It’s the only way in and out of Shipwreck Cove,” he tells her. “Scary passage, that. It’s claimed plenty of ships for the depths.”

“But that’s what makes it so perfect,” Ragetti adds. “Keeps all the do-gooders out.”

Shuǐ nods. “You two have been through it before, I take it?”

“Barbossa made one voyage here when he was still captain of the Cobra,” Ragetti says. “He became Pirate Lord of the Caspian Sea soon after, didn’t he?”

Pintel shrugs. “By my recollection.”

Shuǐ squints at the two of them, then looks to Barbossa, who’s still ordering around the other men. After a moment, she sighs. “Nobody tells me anything on this ship.”

She starts to busy herself with another task, but she soon finds herself being accosted by Jia. “Shuǐ, may I borrow you for a moment?”

“Can you talk to me here?” Shuǐ requests, hoisting the jib. “I’m a bit preoccupied.”

“I would rather not, but I suppose it can wait. Just come down to the food locker once you’re finished. You need the time to change, anyhow.”

Shuǐ turns to her. “I’m changing?”

“Please tell me you were not seriously considering wearing that to meet Jack’s family,” Jia replies with audible revulsion, looking Shuǐ’s work clothes up and down.

“Well, I’m not anymore.”

Jia loiters by the hatch until Shuǐ is finished with the sails, then promptly drags her below deck. While Shuǐ is searching for one of her nicer garments (abandoned at the bottom of her bag), Jia leans against the door. “Is Captain Sparrow sure about attending this family reunion?”

“Last I spoke with him, he was,” Shuǐ reports as she shrugs on the green and gold-patterned long-sleeved tunic. “Hand me my belt.”

“Well, I was just with him, removing his sling,” Jia states, obliging, “and he seemed very skittish about the whole thing.”

Shuǐ turns to her, her brow furrowing slightly. “Was he?”

Jia only shrugs vaguely. “…And you’re suddenly concerned?” Shuǐ questions, sensing ulterior motives.

“Oh, no, not really. I couldn’t care in the slightest,” Jia admits. “But seeing as you were the one who talked him into this in the first place, I thought you ought to know.”

“I didn’t talk Jack into anything,” Shuǐ corrects as she takes her hair down. She grabs her collection of jewelry and hairpins, then turns to Jia before she leaves. “But thank you, regardless.”

“Always happy to help.”

When Shuǐ gets to the captain’s quarters, the door is wide open. Jack is pacing and rolling his shoulder, now free from the restraint of the sling, back and forth. Sure enough, his brows are knit together in a tense demeanor. Shuǐ knocks on the doorframe, and when Jack sees her, his expression seems to relax. “Well, don’t you look elegant?”

“Do you have a moment?”

“For you? Always.”

Shuǐ smiles and closes the door. “You might regret that. I was hoping I could bother you to do something about my hair.”

“What’s wrong with your hair?” Jack inquires, watching as she unrolls the set of hairpins. “Looks alright to me.”

“Nothing’s wrong, exactly. I can’t decide whether to put it up or down or anything of the sort.” Shuǐ sits on the edge of the table and leans over to him. “You enjoy handling it so much, I thought I’d leave it up to you.”

“So, now I’m just hard labor to you, am I?” Jack retorts, crossing his arms as he gets closer.

Shuǐ grins. Their reorganized boundaries have equipped her with new ways of handling his witticisms. Her hand comes up to cup his face as she kisses him tenderly. “Among other things.”

Jack stares at her for a moment, then pulls back and clears his throat. “You’ve convinced me.”

Shuǐ pats him on the cheek before turning her back to him, brushing her hair over her shoulders. As Jack combs through it with his fingers, he asks, “D’you think you’ll be alright?”

“I have a tough skull. Just don’t tug too hard,” she answers.

“Not with that. With the people I am more or less related to.”

Shuǐ’s brow furrows as she feels him twist the top layer of her hair into a bun and pin it up. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, like I said, they’re rowdy. Like to brawl and whatnot,” Jack states, collecting a strand of hair and beginning to braid it.

“Jack, I grew up with two older brothers and four younger ones. Their favorite pastimes, at one point or another, were terrorizing me. I only learned to swim as a child because I got tossed into the canals so often. I think I’ll be able to handle this.”

He hums in reply and continues in silence. Shuǐ then gets the sense that they’re not actually talking about her in this scenario. “Besides, we can always leave if things get messy,” she adds, glancing back at him. “Can’t we?”

Jack just reaches up and lightly pushes her head so she’s facing forward again. Unsure of what answer he’s trying to communicate, she purses her lips, tapping her fingers against the table. When Jack moves on to the next braid, Shuǐ speaks up. “I’ll make the call. That way, you can use me as an excuse to get out of there.”

He pauses and looks at her. “You’re sure?”

“I can be a very convincing scapegoat when I want to be,” Shuǐ remarks with a shrug. “I used to fake illness when I was younger to get out of all sorts of things. I might’ve lost my touch, but I’m sure I can still put on a decent act.”

“You won’t need to go that far,” Jack chuckles as he resumes and ties the braid off. “With any luck, we’ll be able to get in, see what the fuss is about, and get out.”

“We’ll call that Plan A.”

Jack braids a third strand of hair, then takes the bun he’d created and retwists it so it sits in the middle of the back of Shuǐ’s head. She waits patiently as he sticks different pins in the bun until finally, Jack leans back. “Well, it could be worse.”

Shuǐ stands and turns so she can see her hair in the mirror. A gold pin with a peacock on the end holds the bun in place, and the braids have glass beads scattered throughout the strands. “It’s better than anything I could’ve done on my own.”

In the reflection, she sees Jack smile slightly. There’s a knock at the door, but before either of them can respond, Jia calls through it. “We’re docking. Barbossa says we’ll be disembarking soon.”

“Thank you, Jia,” Shuǐ replies.

Jack waits until Jia’s footsteps are out of earshot, then gives Shuǐ a look. “She knows?”

“She was my friend before she was part of your crew,” Shuǐ points out. “She would’ve killed me if she hadn’t heard it from me first, and then you’d be apprentice-less and partnerless.”

Jack grunts as he puts on his coat, his shoulder straining a bit. “Fair point. Since we’re on the subject, I have to say, I don’t care for the term apprentice anymore. Seems like you’ve outgrown it. But I don’t know what I’m supposed to promote you to.”

“What comes after apprentice?” Shuǐ asks as she helps him shrug the coat on.

“Journeyman, but I don’t think that’s accurate since you’re not captaining your own ship yet. I can’t make you first mate since Hector’s already got that position. Besides, he’d mutiny on the both of us at the mere suggestion.”

Shuǐ takes Jack’s hat from the table and places it on his head. “How about confidante?”

Jack fixes it, looking at her curiously. “What does a confidante do?”

“They’re someone to confide in,” she muses. “And not to insinuate that you have feelings about anything, but I would say you confide in me rather frequently.”

“Only because you badger me into it.”

Shuǐ gives him a look, and he relents. “Still, I like it. Consider yourself promoted.”

“Why, thank you, Captain.”

“You’re very welcome, love,” Jack says, heading for the deck. “Now, let’s get this over with.”

Shuǐ follows close behind, though she’s swiftly distracted by the curious architecture of the city. It’s quite literally built with ships—hundreds of abandoned vessels make up the components of the metropolis. When she comes down the gangplank onto the dock, Jack offers her his hand, and she takes it. He then looks toward their small party—Barbossa, Gibbs, and Jia. The rest of the crew has been set free to wreak havoc on Shipwreck City (well, that explains the name). “Any idea where they’re meetin’?” Barbossa asks.

“The Mermaid. Not too far, but far enough,” Jack states. “We should get a move on.”

“Where did all these ships come from?” Shuǐ wonders aloud as they begin making their way through the twisting, weaving streets.

Gibbs steps out of the way of some children playing tag. “Ah, each has their own story to tell. Many are the discharged vessels of pirates long dead. Most of ‘em retired here. Much nicer send-off than bein’ sunk.”

“So, it’s a sanctuary,” Jia remarks, eyeing the stands advertising cursed objects warily. “That’s why the Brethren Court meets here. I thought it was just the most convenient spot.”

“No one knows its location except a select few, including the Brethren Court,” Barbossa tells her. “Some say the island itself is never in the same place twice.”

Shuǐ listens intently but is interrupted when Jack suddenly comes to a stop. She looks at him, then faces forward. In front of them is a large ship turned on its side, with a mermaid figurehead staring them down. The inside looks like it has been stripped and fashioned into a tavern—peals of laughter and music and shouting echo from beyond the thrown-open doors. But despite the cheery atmosphere, Jack looks apprehensive.

Shuǐ unhooks her arm from his and takes his hand instead, squeezing it gently. That seems to break him out of it, as he finally huffs. “Here goes.”

And with that, they step inside.

Chapter Text

Luckily, the tavern is so busy and the chatter is so loud that no one notices their entrance. Any glances that are cast over them are heavy with the haze of alcohol, and none linger for more than a moment. Shuǐ hears Jack sigh with relief before he turns around and claps his hands together. “Well, who’s up for drinks?”

“I’ll find us a table,” she says, and her hand drifts across his back before she begins to wind her way through the crowded bar. There’s one resting unclaimed in the corner, perfect for discreet observation.

Shuǐ sits and scans the people in the tavern, joined soon after by Jack, who’s carrying two tankards of rum in each hand. “I don’t think getting drunk will lower your chances of being recognized, Jack,” she points out as he slides two tankards over to her and keeps two for himself.

“Perhaps not,” Jack agrees. “But it will make the evening much more bearable.”

Well, she can’t argue with that. Instead, Shuǐ takes a sip of the rum. She hums with surprise at how much sweeter it tastes compared to the rum on the ship. Jack glances at her and grins. “Told you Caribbean rum was better.”

“It’s certainly easier to get down,” Shuǐ remarks, taking another sip and savoring it. Now that they’re settled, she realizes Jack’s eyes are still darting about at every face. He’s usually not so guarded in ports, much less than she’s learned to be, at least. Shuǐ clears her throat as she pulls her chair closer to his. “Does your family always meet at Shipwreck Cove for gatherings like this?”

“Yeah, I’d say,” Jack answers after a pause. “Mind you, most of them stick closer to home. I have a habit of getting as far from it as possible.”

“Home? You mean you grew up here?”

He shrugs, swirling his tankard—it hasn’t escaped her notice that he hasn’t had a single drink yet. “Safest place for our kind. Best place for some whack job to start hoarding relatives.”

Shuǐ giggles as she covers his hand with her own. “Well, there must be parts of it that are nice.”

Though it was balled into a fist, Jack lets his hand relax, allowing Shuǐ to lace her fingers between his. “There are,” he says as he sets the tankard down. “There’s a lagoon where the manatees sleep—manatees, not whatever you call them—with a sandbar in the middle where the seagrass grows. You wake up early enough at the crack of dawn, swim out to the sandbar, and the manatees surround you while they have their breakfast.”

“What else?”

Jack leans back and crosses his arms. “Other than a handful of secret passages and hiding places, nothing else of note. Well, I suppose there’s the Great Chamber, but that’s nothing interesting unless the Brethren Court is meeting.”

“Wouldn’t hurt to take a look at it, though, would it?” Shuǐ questions, a bit eagerly. Truthfully, it’s a little selfish, but a small part of her was hoping to catch up on all the Brethren Court knowledge she was missing while they were in Shipwreck. After all, there was no telling when she’d get another chance.

Jack looks at her like she’s just asked if they can scrape barnacles off the Black Pearl’s hull for fun. But his expression slowly changes to one of understanding before he smirks and leans forward again. “Ah, that’s right. I’m a step above you in experience with pirating history and the like, aren’t I?”

“Never mind,” Shuǐ quickly mumbles, turning away. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“No, if you want to, we can sneak in,” Jack teases as he hooks his foot around the leg of her chair and tugs it toward him. “What kind of captain would I be if I didn’t fulfill all your little pirate dreams?”

Shuǐ narrows her eyes at him as he rests his arm on the back of her chair. She should’ve known he was going to use her as more than one type of distraction. “Remind me never to ask you for anything ever again.”

“C’mon, love, I’m just having fun with you. I can get you into the Great Chamber.”

“…Could you really?”

“If I get a kiss, sure.”

Shuǐ rolls her eyes but supposes if this is working for him, she might as well play along. She’s just about to grant him one when an unfamiliar voice suddenly breaks through the surrounding noise, very close to their table. “Jackie!”

Jack groans as Shuǐ holds back a grin. “Jackie?” she repeats with amusement.

“Don’t start,” he mutters before turning around. “Hello, Valerie.”

A woman with short, wavy dark brown hair trots up to their table, a grin strikingly similar to Jack’s on her face as she pulls a chair over and joins them. “Well, look at you. Where’ve you been these past few years?”

Jack shrugs vaguely. “Oh, y’know. Here, there. A bit of everywhere.”

“I’ll say. No one thought you’d show. Uncle Ace bet a considerable amount of money on it, actually. So thanks for showing up—more coin in my pocket.” The woman glances at Shuǐ briefly, then turns to her completely. A flash of surprise crosses her face, but it’s swiftly replaced by a wide smirk. “Who’s your lady friend?”

“She’s not my lady friend, she’s a part of my crew,” Jack says shortly. “Shuǐ, this is Valerie, my cousin and the most perfect proper pirate to ever live. Val, this is Shuǐ. She’s my apprentice.”

“Confidante,” Shuǐ corrects.

Jack snaps his fingers. “That’s right, we promoted you. Congratulations, by the way.”

“Thank you.”

Valerie doesn’t seem entirely convinced, judging by the way she’s looking at them. “Apprentice, huh? What could she possibly be learning under you?”

“Lots of things,” Jack snorts, and Shuǐ lightly smacks his arm. “We have an agreement,” she tells Valerie. “He’s teaching me how to captain a ship, and once we’ve finished with that, he’s going to help me steal one.”

“I see,” Valerie muses before grinning at Jack. “You’ve got it bad for this one, don’t you?”

He glares at her. “Go away, Val.”

She laughs and stands. “Oh, don’t be like that, Jackie. This is a night of celebration! You shouldn’t sit back here and mope the whole time. And if you do, then watch out for the little terrors—they’re in rare form.”

Valerie winks at Shuǐ, nods to Jack, and walks away. “Well, she doesn’t seem so bad,” Shuǐ states without thinking.

Jack huffs. “Yeah, you’ve never lived under the same roof as her. Spend a few years hearing all about how wonderful she is, and eventually, you’ll consider ripping your ears off.”

Shuǐ looks at him and rests her chin in her hand. “Ah, I get it. There’s always a favorite, isn’t there?”

“I’ll say.”

“Is there anyone else we should be keen on avoiding?”

Which is a poorly veiled attempt to learn more about Jack’s family. But whether Jack realizes that or not, he obliges. “Let’s see—Grandmama’s over at the bar talking to Gibbs, so that might become an issue. She can get a bit testy. There’s Aunt Hazel and Uncle Ace, but they shouldn’t be much trouble so long as we don’t bother them. We’ll want to steer clear of Aunt Quick-Draw for obvious reasons,” he remarks as the older woman he’s pointing at clobbers another patron in the head with a rum tankard. “Uh, and then there’s Mabeltrude, the one who has visions. That’s all, except dear old Dad.”

“What about your mother?”

“Mm. That’s another thing you and I have in common.”

Shuǐ nods but doesn’t push for details. This isn’t the time or the place. “How long should we give it before we head back to the Pearl? I don’t know about you, but I think the longer we sit here, the more of an invitation it becomes to hassle us.”

Jack looks at his two untouched tankards and tilts his head toward hers. “Till the rum runs out?”

“I’ll drink to that,” Shuǐ replies with a smile.

They toast, and the night drags on. Jack passes the time by recounting tales of life on Shipwreck Island and the bouts of trouble he got into when he was younger. It sounds like he’s always had a knack for pissing off important people, and whether it’s the rum or his colorful storytelling, Shuǐ finds herself laughing a little louder than she normally would. She’s not sure when exactly her head ends up resting on his shoulder or when she drapes her leg over his knee, but that’s where they are when Jack’s voice trails off in the middle of a joke about a skeleton walking into a bar. Shuǐ glances at him, then immediately picks her head up when she hears him say, “Hello, Dad.”

Her eyes immediately lock on the man standing in front of them, whom she can only describe as a much older version of Jack (something she will wisely never say to his face). “Jackie boy,” he greets, sitting in the chair Valerie pulled over earlier. “Good to see you.”

“Likewise,” Jack replies, though there’s a wary undertone to it. “How’s the Code?”

“Dusty. But in good shape. How’s the Pearl?”

“Still a beaut.”

The two stare each other down, and Shuǐ starts to wonder if she should go check on Jia. She lightly nudges Jack’s leg with her foot, hoping to communicate the question, but he takes it in a completely different way. “Y’know, I don’t believe you two have formally met. Love, this is Captain Edward Teague, my father. Dad, this is–”

“Sao Shuǐ,” Teague finishes, his gaze now fixed on her. “I know.”

Well, that can’t be good, but Shuǐ doesn’t draw back. She’s better than that. She simply furrows her brow. “Jackie, have you said hello to your grandmother yet?” Teague asks him. “She’ll be thrilled to see you.”

“Oh, do I really have to–”

“It’s her birthday, boy. Go on.”

Jack grumbles and stands. However, he only gets a few steps away before he turns back to the table, realizing that Shuǐ hasn’t followed him. “Aren’t you coming?”

“I don’t think he wants me to,” she says coolly as she holds Teague’s gaze.

Jack looks at her, seeming hesitant to leave her behind. Shuǐ turns to him, her expression softening. “I’ll be fine. Go.”

He finally accepts that, and once Jack’s out of sight, Teague begins his inquiry. “Terribly sorry to interrupt. I’m afraid it’s a matter of great importance. Have you been in contact with your father recently, Miss Sao?”

“No, and I would very much like it to stay that way,” Shuǐ admits firmly as she looks back at him. “I’m sure he’s eager to drag me back home, but the message he sends is the same, no matter who it comes from. While I apologize on his behalf for roping the other Pirate Lords into petty family quarrels, I must emphatically discourage any attempts to persuade me to return to Singapore.”

Teague stares at her for a moment, taken aback. “Petty family quarrels?”

“Well, I don’t know what he’s called it, but that’s my perspective. I left without permission, after all. He despises it when I do anything but put my head down and obey. I should’ve known he’d drag the rest of you into it.”

“…You left. Of your own volition?”

Shuǐ squints at Teague, now feeling as puzzled as he looks. “Yes. Why else would I be here and not there?”

Teague leans back in his chair and runs a hand over his face before pinching the bridge of his nose. Shuǐ’s eyes narrow further. “What has he been telling you?”

“It’s not just me,” Teague mutters. “Sao Feng sent word to the Brethren Court two months ago claiming you and another young lady had been taken from Singapore. He asked for our help locating you.”

Her fists clench under the table. How weak does her father think she is? Despite her infuriation, Shuǐ has the presence of mind to drop her voice to a hiss. “He thinks Jack kidnapped me?”

Teague waves a hand. “He wasn’t specific. That’s what Valerie thought when she reported your attendance to me—but kidnapping isn’t Jackie’s style. He’s too softhearted for that.”

For the sake of keeping them on track, Shuǐ elects to ignore that comment. “Well, you’re the Keeper of the Code. Can’t you send out a pelican and tell the other Pirate Lords it was a false alarm? I don’t need the rest of them accosting me.”

“Sure enough, but that only solves one of your problems. I offered Sao Feng the full power of my fleet along with my aid, personally. We were going to meet to discuss the specifics before we sent a search party out into the Atlantic.”

Shuǐ’s stomach drops. She immediately picks her head up, looking around. “He’s here?”

“Not yet,” Teague tells her. “But he should be, any day now. And if Jackie stays for the challenge–”

“I have to tell Jia,” she interjects, abruptly standing up. “Please excuse me, Captain.”

Working to keep her pounding heart under control, Shuǐ quickly locates the table where Jia, Gibbs, and Barbossa are gambling. She squeezes between Barbossa and Jia, tapping the latter on the shoulder. “We have a problem.”

“We do,” Jia agrees in a murmur. “I’m losing.”

“My father is on his way here.”

Jia’s head jerks up, her eyes wide. “What? Why?”

Barbossa and Gibbs look at her, too. “He told the other Pirate Lords that I’d been kidnapped and is currently sailing here to meet with Captain Teague, who was under the impression that we were both captives until a few moments ago,” Shuǐ explains.

“Ye didn’t tell Sao Feng ye had joined a crew?” Barbossa chastises.

“Yes, of course. I told the one man who was dead set on keeping me from being a pirate that I had joined a pirate crew to learn how to be a pirate captain and partake in pirating activities,” Shuǐ retorts dryly. “No, I didn’t tell him.”

“Well, what are we going to do?” Jia asks.

“I don’t know. We might not even run into him. But if we’re all vigilant, he has a lesser chance of getting the jump on us. I don’t doubt he’ll try to ruin this for everyone.”

Gibbs clears his throat. “Miss Shuǐ, I don’t mean to delve into personal matters—but has it ever occurred to you that your father may just be trying to protect you from the nastier side of this business?”

And the truth is, yes, it has. But she also knows that men who attempt to shield their daughters from the horrors of the world don’t typically force them to shoot innocent people, so that sentiment only lasted so long. “Believe me, Mister Gibbs, if that were the case, I would be more than grateful to him,” Shuǐ states. “Unfortunately, past experiences have led me to conclude that that is not his motivation.”

Jia nods in agreement before turning back to Shuǐ. “Have you told Sparrow yet?”

“He was my next stop. I’ll let you get back to losing.”

Before Shuǐ gets far, Jia calls to her. “Shuǐ!”

She turns back, and Jia looks as nervous as Shuǐ feels beneath her irritated front. “You don’t think he’ll do anything drastic, do you?”

“He’s my father,” Shuǐ replies shortly. “Anything is possible.”

Jack proves to be elusive as she follows the edges of the tavern, and her search isn’t made any easier when the ragtag musicians start playing and an uproar of cheering follows. The cleared space in the middle of the tavern is swiftly filled with swaying patrons, and Shuǐ is forced to look over their heads if she wants to see across the room. Her attention is stolen, however, when Valerie shouts, “Shuǐ!”

She looks at where Valerie is leaning against the wall, waving her over. Shuǐ gives another cursory look to the tavern before walking to her. It might be easier if she lets Jack come to her.

“You’re still here,” Valerie notes as Shuǐ comes to stand next to her. “Guess that means I was wrong.”

She rolls her eyes. “My father can be incredibly overdramatic. I should’ve suspected he’d fly off the handle.”

Valerie giggles. “Well, I can’t be too hard on myself. I couldn’t imagine any normal girl willingly spending more than an hour in Jackie’s presence if he’s not paying—you must be quite resilient.”

“He’s not unbearable,” Shuǐ defends. She wants to tread lightly, but she also keeps getting this pit in her stomach hearing the way Jack’s family talks about him. It’s not like her half-brothers have always had something nice to say about her, but at least they would say it to her face. “More tolerable than his first mate, at least. And he’s delivering on his word; that’s all that matters to me.”

“Ah, don’t feel like you need to defend him, just ‘cause he’s your captain. I know first-hand that Jackie’s not the best pirate there ever was,” Valerie muses. “Agreement or not, you’re not shackled to him. Other, better captains would be willing to meet the same terms.”

Shuǐ’s eyes narrow slightly. “I know that.”

“Then why stick with him? I’m honestly curious.”

“Because I like the Pearl, I like the crew, and as unbelievable as it may seem, I like Jack,” Shuǐ declares firmly, turning to face Valerie fully. “I’m getting the impression that you all think he’s some kind of bumbling dunderhead, so let me assure you that nothing could be further from the truth. Jack is smart, daring, and more thoughtful than most pirates and men I’ve known. And yes, more often than not, he is a self-serving, arrogant, dishonest codfish. But he’s my self-serving, arrogant, dishonest codfish, so if you must speak of him like that, I would thank you not to do it around me.”

“Codfish?”

Shuǐ turns around to see Jack standing behind her with a new tankard of rum. “There you are. C’mon, let’s go dance.”

“Why am I a codfish?” he asks as she takes his arm and starts leading him out onto the floor.

“You’re not. I was trying to make a point. Anyway, we have bigger issues,” Shuǐ tells him, turning to face him once they’re lost in the crowd. “My father is on his way to Shipwreck Island. He thinks you kidnapped me.”

Jack sets his tankard down on a nearby table and takes her hand, raising an eyebrow. “Says who?”

“Says your father. Now, I doubt mine really thinks that I was kidnapped. He probably only said that because he knew that the other Pirate Lords wouldn’t care about a runaway.”

“Figures, fathers. What’s your plan of action?”

Shuǐ shrugs, her other hand drifting from his arm up to his shoulder. “Well, he doesn’t know which crew I’m with, so even if he shows up before we leave, I should be able to avoid him. It’s for the best that we don’t run into each other—I think if he saw me like this, he would have a conniption.”

“I think you look marvelous like this,” Jack compliments as he leads her through a spin.

“I doubt he’ll take your opinion into account,” she replies, though she smiles when he pulls her back to him. Shuǐ lets go of Jack’s hands, draping her arms around his neck. “How was your talk with your grandmother?”

He rolls his eyes as both his hands find a place on her waist. “Short. Not especially sweet. She didn’t try and stab me, though. I guess that counts for something.”

“And no hints as to what we’re all actually here for?”

“None. Some day trip this turned out to be, eh? The night might’ve been a waste, after all.”

“Not a total waste,” Shuǐ muses with a smile. “We’re dancing.”

Jack grins back and leans in. “That we are, love.”

Before he can kiss her, though, a shot rings out. Shuǐ jerks away, ready to throw them both to the ground, but Jack tugs her closer. “It’s alright, it’s just Grandmama trying to get everyone’s attention,” he assures her, running his hand up and down her back.

Shuǐ looks toward the bar and sees an elderly woman with a red bandana over her curly gray hair setting a pistol back on the bar counter. Teague, who is standing next to her, clears his throat. “Thank you, Ma. Everyone, welcome. We’re so pleased that you lot joined us to celebrate Grandmama’s miraculous survival to ninety.”

There’s some scattered cheering and applause. “Yes, yes, get it over with,” the old woman—Grandmama—gripes. “Tell ‘em the real reason they’re here, boyo.”

Shuǐ and Jack glance at each other. “Right. To put it in simple terms, we’ve not just gathered you for a celebration. We’ve a challenge in place. The reward,” Teague continues, and he flips a coin before holding it up for them to see, “is one of the nine pieces of eight and my seat on the Brethren Court.”

A low murmuring sweeps through the tavern. Jack seems to perk up, his gaze locked on the trinket. “All captains interested in taking part, say aye.”

“Aye,” Jack calls out, almost cutting Teague off. One of the men he’d pointed out as an uncle also responds, and Shuǐ is fairly certain she hears Valerie’s voice somewhere in the mix.

They must be the only captains present, as no one else speaks up after them. “You’ll bring your ships to Rover Point at a quarter to high noon tomorrow,” Teague instructs. “May the best pirate win.”

With that, it seems the announcements are over. The music slowly picks up again when Teague sits down, and everyone returns to their original activities. “Well then,” Jack says after a moment, “back to the Pearl.”

“He didn’t mention what sort of challenge it was,” Shuǐ notes as they make their way toward the others.

“No matter. If it isn’t something violent, I’ll be surprised.”

They collect Jia, Gibbs, and Barbossa, but before they can get out of the tavern, the same uncle who’d accepted Teague’s challenge steps in front of them, his gap-toothed sneer directed at Jack. “So, lookin’ for a seat on the Court, are ya, Jackie boy?”

“Uncle Ace,” Jack replies with clipped politeness before looking at the others. “Go on. I’ll catch up.”

When his hand drifts from Shuǐ’s back, she realizes he means her, too. However, she slips away from the group to wait by the tavern’s open doorway. Jia turns when she notices Shuǐ isn’t following but says nothing, just giving her an acknowledging nod. “Didn’t think you'd have the guts to go for it, mind ya,” Uncle Ace continues. “Maybe you’ll get it, though, ey? Could be a running away contest, and we all know you’re good at that.”

Shuǐ can tell from Jack’s tone that he’s making the same face he made when Valerie approached them. “Yeah. You’d better hope it’s not a test of strength with the way the little terrors have been bowling you over all night.”

He must’ve hit a nerve because Uncle Ace’s next chuckle is a bit curt. “Just know, you’ve got your work cut out for ya. Valerie’s got twice the skills you do and twice the status. Hell, if I can’t get that seat for meself, I’d rather see her get it.”

“Good to know. Well, night.”

Shuǐ steps back into sight as Jack approaches the doorway. “Y’know, Jackie, maybe it’s better that ya don’t show up at all. I’ve got a bet riding on it!” Uncle Ace calls to him.

Shuǐ’s head snaps to glare at him, but Jack puts his arm around her shoulders, effectively leading her away. “Love, leave it.”

She’s a bit surprised at his stern tone. “Why do they all talk to you like that?” Shuǐ asks when they get away from the tavern. “And why do you let them?”

“First, because every family has their sacrificial lamb, and in my family, it’s me,” Jack discloses. “Second, because when you’re the sacrificial lamb, there’s no point. That kind of thing only makes it worse. You’ve got no one on your side, so your only options are to stay and take it or escape and fend for yourself. You can guess which one I chose.”

Shuǐ’s brow furrows as she looks back at the now-distant Mermaid. Jack notices and sighs, his hand sliding down to hold hers. “Put it out of your mind, will you? Doesn’t do any good for you to be miffed on my behalf.”

She takes the hint and faces forward, though there are still a thousand incensed thoughts running through her head. Honestly? She didn’t care all that much about the challenge until she met the competition. Now it’s about more than the Brethren Court—it’s about making sure that Jack proves his family wrong.

Like it or not, they’re getting that piece of eight.

Chapter Text

The ship is hot that night—hot and stifling. Shuǐ has been tossing and turning on the floor of the food locker for hours, her unrest caused by a mix of overheating and overthinking. It doesn’t help that the bare skin of her back keeps sticking to and chafing against the wooden planks beneath her. Even her undershirt, as thin as it is, feels unbearable.

Well, it must be close to morning, and she’s had enough. She’s going for a swim.

Shuǐ gets up as quietly as she can. As she collects the blouse she’d shed in her attempts to get cooler, Jia mutters something in her sleep and rolls over. Once Shuǐ is dressed (or at least decent enough to walk around the ship), she grabs another set of clothes to change into when she’s done with her swim. She looks around, and, sure that she has everything she needs, heads for the door.

Jack is lucky she has such excellent reaction time because she nearly hits him with the door before she realizes he’s standing there. He leans back to avoid it, and when its path has halted, he looks at Shuǐ. “Good morning.”

“Same to you,” she replies, slightly bewildered. “Why are you loitering out here?”

“I was not loitering. It’s my ship,” Jack scoffs lightly. “If you must know, I was getting a snack from the galley. Where are you going?”

Shuǐ shrugs and flicks away a loose strand of hair sticking to her face. “I’m not sure yet. Anywhere that’s good for swimming. It’s too hot to sleep, and I’m starting to smell like the rest of you.”

“Ah, then you’re in luck. I happen to know this island like the back of my hand. Want some company?”

She raises an eyebrow at his eagerness. Jack holds his hands up defensively. “No ulterior motives. I swear on my soul’s salvation.”

“That doesn’t mean much coming from you,” Shuǐ retorts, though she nudges him playfully as she passes him. “But I suppose I’ll allow it.”

And that’s how, in what feels like a matter of minutes, she finds herself pushing a rowboat onto a beach. The water is welcomingly cool against her feet as she wades through it. Jack pulls from the other end, and once the boat is settled in the sand, he sighs and looks at the horizon. The sun was already peeking over when they left the Black Pearl. Now, it’s about a quarter of the way through rising, casting sparkling light on the surface of the wake. “Perfect timing. Couldn’t have planned it better.”

“Is this where you said the dugongs come to feed?” Shuǐ asks as she wades out of the water, only to quickly turn around when she realizes Jack is taking his shirt off.

“Manatees,” he corrects, tossing the balled-up shirt into the rowboat before scrunching the legs of his trousers above his knees. “Are you coming or not?”

Shuǐ lingers by the rowboat at first, only turning to watch as Jack starts swimming for the sandbar. She supposes she shouldn’t feel so bashful, given how many bathhouses her father owns in Singapore. She still has to tear her eyes away from Jack’s tattooed back and she prays he hasn’t seen the flush on her face, for there would be no coming back from the humiliation. After a moment, Shuǐ unties her top and discards it (but keeps her undershirt), secures the rolled-up legs of her trousers, and heads into the water.

When she’s out far enough, she dips under the surface, letting the water rush and flow through her hair before continuing to swim. It’s clear enough that she can see the minnows darting around her feet as she steps into the shallows around the sandbar. Even there, the water comes up to just above her waist. “I don’t see any dugongs,” Shuǐ mentions, looking around.

“That’s because they’re manatees,” Jack states, “and you’re not looking the right places.”

He takes her chin and moves her head, pointing with his other hand at a large gray mound milling about at a further end of the sandbar. Shuǐ squints, stepping behind Jack as the mass moves closer to them. Jack reaches down and pulls a clump of seagrass from the sand. “There we go.”

When it gets to them, the gray creature pokes its head out of the water—and while it certainly has a shape that’s similar to a dugong, its face is considerably more squished, and its tail is flat like a plate rather than arced like a whale’s. Shuǐ peers over Jack’s shoulder as the manatee takes the seagrass from his hands. She doesn’t even notice the one that’s floating up behind her until it bumps into her, causing her to do the same to Jack. “Yeah, they don’t care much for personal space,” he jokes as she turns around to see the animal snarfing down the patch of seaweed she’d been standing among.

More and more manatees join the pod soon after. The next time one glides past Shuǐ, she reaches down to touch its algae-spotted hide. It’s rough, but it doesn’t hurt her hands. The manatee must appreciate it, as she could swear it doubles back to pass her again. She obliges, a slight smile tugging at her lips when the manatee rubs its head against her leg.

She’s reaching to feed a smaller one, likely an adolescent, when water showers her from behind. Shuǐ fixes Jack with a slight glare, but he quickly shifts the blame. “That was the manatee.”

“Accusing a harmless creature of your offense?” she asks, skidding her hand across the surface of the water and splashing him back. “I expected better of you, Captain.”

“I told you, it wasn’t me!” Jack pauses, then tosses water at her. “That was, though.”

Shuǐ gets caught between a scoff and a laugh as she responds with another attack. It becomes a back-and-forth duel for honor, with water tosses becoming more and more forceful. Shuǐ tackles Jack down below the surface, but when they come up for air, he announces, “Wait, truce, parley, other words for that—I think I caught a fish.”

“Really?”

Jack brings his hands out of the water, one clasping around something and the other underneath it. “Looks like it. C’mere, come see.”

Shuǐ is a good sport, so she leans in. But just as Jack squeezes his fist to shoot the water into her face, she grabs his wrists and angles his hands back, so he hits himself with it instead. “Oh, bloody–”

“Six brothers, Jack,” Shuǐ says dryly as he wipes the water out of his eyes. “They’ve all tried that on me before.”

There’s another splash from behind that douses her. Shuǐ spins around to see a manatee's tail disappearing under the water. When she turns to Jack again, he’s giving her a look. “See? Wasn’t me.”

“Oh, alright, I’m sorry.”

Jack huffs and turns his ink-lined back to her. Shuǐ smiles slightly to herself, feeling just a bit apologetic, and steps closer, leaning on his shoulder. “You fought valiantly.”

She tries to kiss him on the cheek, but Jack turns to her abruptly. “And I was right about the manatees,” he adds.

“I think manatees and dugongs are related species, so technically, we were both right.”

He narrows his eyes at her, and Shuǐ sighs. “You were right about these manatees specifically.”

“There. Was that so hard?” Jack asks before kissing her.

She grins into him, cupping his face as their pace becomes less competitive and more languid. But Shuǐ still pulls away after a moment, looking at the now fully risen sun as she covers Jack’s mouth. She has not forgotten what led them here in the first place. “We should get back to the Pearl. We’ll want to make sure she’s in good shape for whatever challenge we’re facing.”

“Forget the challenge,” Jack says flippantly as he gently kisses the side of her mouth. “I’d rather stay here all day.”

“Well, my hands are starting to prune up, so I’m heading back to shore,” Shuǐ tells him, taking his jaw in her hands before he can move any lower. “I’d be more than happy to take over as captain today if you’d rather stay with the manatees. I might even win that piece of eight.”

Jack stares at her for a moment, then frowns. “You’re no fun, you know that?”

“I do.” Shuǐ kisses him one more time before she starts making her way off the sandbar. “I’ll see you on the beach.”

…

When they return to the Black Pearl a little while later, Barbossa meets them at the taffrail, glaring at them as they hoist the rowboat into place and tie it off. “And where have ye two been all morning?”

“Gallivanting,” Jack answers shortly, offering Shuǐ a hand before she steps onto the deck. “Any news from dear old Dad?”

“Just a reminder of where to meet and when, as well as a request to have all hands on deck upon our arrival,” Barbossa discloses, handing over another glass bottle with a message rolled up inside. “The Pearl is ready when you are.”

“Good. Well. Off we go, I suppose.”

Jack heads for his quarters while Shuǐ lingers on the deck, still squeezing water out of her damp hair. When Barbossa turns to her suspiciously, she shrugs. “I don’t know why he’s acting like that.”

He just scoffs and goes back to the crew. “Haul off, ye drivelin’ muttonheads, and be quick about it! Set a course for Rover Point!”

With preparation around the ship being handled, Shuǐ heads down to the galley for a midday snack. When she surfaces with Jia (who is not-so-subtly interrogating her about her morning escapade), the Black Pearl is approaching their destination. Two ships are waiting for them—Shuǐ reads the Troubadour on the back of one and the Rising Tide on the back of the other. When they pull up next to the Rising Tide, Valerie calls over, “This doesn’t bode well for your chances at victory, Jackie!”

Jack, now at the helm, rolls his eyes. “Bodes even worse for Ace. Where is the old bungler, anyway?”

“Probably still sleeping off his stupor. Do me a favor and try to keep that piece of eight out of his hands?” Valerie requests with a grin. “He’ll muck up the whole Court if he gets that seat.”

“Well, at least we can agree on that.”

It takes a bit, but eventually, a fourth ship rounds the bend—this one is simply called the Minnow. It drops anchor next to the Black Pearl while Teague begins his spiel from the Troubadour. “Ho there, contenders. Good day for a race, isn’t it?”

“We’re racing? No wonder we got dragged out to a point,” Jia muses.

Shuǐ nods in agreement as Teague continues. “You’ll be sailing around the east islet, then back through Devil’s Throat to Shipwreck Cove. At the islet, you have two routes to choose from, and only two. You can either go around the whole islet, or you can take Split Tongue Strait. Be cautious, as you must return with your ship and crew in the condition you started–”

“Ah, Split Tongue Strait! A challenge of bravery, this is,” Uncle Ace remarks from the deck of the Minnow. “Ya sure ya wanna partake, Jackie boy?”

Jack scowls but doesn’t retort. “You have till sundown before we start sending out search parties,” Teague tells them, raising his pistol. “Raise your anchors!”

Jack mumbles something to Gibbs, who quickly comes down to the deck. “Cap’n says untie the halyards, but don’t shake out the main just yet,” he reports quietly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jia asks, but Shuǐ is already at the main mast. As she pulls the loosened rope back, she calls quietly: “Pintel, Ragetti, come help me with this!”

“Why are we whispering?” Ragetti asks in a hushed tone.

“I don’t know; Gibbs started it.”

Once all the anchors have been hoisted up, Teague nods to the captains. “Luck be with you.”

He fires his pistol in the air just as Jack orders, “Spread quick!”

They let the mainsail fall open, and the wind immediately fills it, allowing the Black Pearl to pull ahead of the Rising Tide and the Minnow right off the bat. Shuǐ reties the halyard while Barbossa takes over. “Run out the sweeps! Make haste, ye lousy rogues, we be on the pursuit! Miss Sao, more sails!”

“Aye,” she replies, moving to raise the rest of the sails. With their early lead, the crew is full of confidence as they work to maintain it. Shuǐ looks back when they get closer to the islet, but Valerie’s ship is still a safe distance away, and she can’t even make out Uncle Ace’s. Her heart leaps with excitement—they might have a real chance at winning, not just a hope.

That’s why when she looks at Jack, she can’t understand why his expression is so grim.

After getting Jia to secure her post, Shuǐ trots up to the helm and comes to stand next to him. “Are we having feelings again?”

“Not in the slightest,” Jack scoffs, barely looking at her. “I’m just focused.”

“Really? I’ve seen you focus.”

“So?”

“You don’t usually look like you’re walking to the gallows when you focus,” Shuǐ notes with a grin. When Jack hums in response, unamused, she continues. “We’re in the lead. I figured you’d be happy about that, at least. And Gibbs says if we take the strait, we’ll cut our time in half.”

Jack makes a mild noise of disagreement. It’s subtle, but it’s enough that she turns to him. “Won’t it?”

“Who’s to know?” he muses with a shrug. “Doesn’t matter since we’re better off taking the chance.”

Shuǐ’s brow furrows, and she crosses her arms, facing him fully. “Jack. What’s wrong with the strait?”

Jack doesn’t answer at first, then sighs. “We’ve passed the peak of the high tide. Water will be retreating in preparation for the low tide, which means we’ll be battling against the current. Not to mention, Split-Tongue Strait is already narrow and littered with rocks.”

“Then why are we taking it?”

“Well, that’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

“Jack,” Shuǐ starts, but he interjects. “I can get us through it. Besides, if we get in first, Val and Ace will have no way of passing us.”

“Or we could go around and return to the cove unharmed.”

Jack huffs. “Sure, but where’s the glory in that?”

“There’ll be no glory for any of us if we get stranded on the rocks and wreck the Pearl,” Shuǐ points out.

“I know that.”

“So let’s go around!”

“We’re here anyway; there’s no point in turning now,” Jack states, though not with a significant amount of conviction.

Shuǐ turns to see the tight borders of the strait formed by the islet. Sure, they’re fast approaching it, but there’s no reason they couldn’t change their minds. “Jack, listen to me,” Shuǐ starts, looking back at him. “This isn’t a test of who’s the smartest navigator or who’s the bravest pirate. I think it’s clear that it’s a test of who the best captain is.”

“And?” Jack retorts, but he’s glancing at her more often now.

“And the best captain is a captain who listens to his instincts and his crew, not the voices of his faulty family. You told me once that the Black Pearl was the fastest ship on the seas. True or false?”

“True.”

“If we go around the islet, do you believe we can still beat Valerie and your uncle to the cove?”

“Yes.”

“So, what are you going to do, Captain?”

Jack’s grip on the wheel tightens. He wrenches it all the way to the left, veering them away from the entrance to the strait. Shuǐ grabs the taffrail as the Black Pearl tilts just slightly, but the ship settles again and keeps her speed. “Jack! What are ye doin’?” Barbossa questions, coming to the steps to the helm.

“Split-Tongue strait isn’t safe when the tide is out,” Jack remarks, turning to Shuǐ with a swagger in his tone and a spark in his eye—now he looks more like himself. “We’ll go around.”

Shuǐ beams at him and goes back down to the deck. “The Pearl is fast enough to beat our opponents there, but only if we put our backs into it.”

Barbossa sighs. He turns to the crew members still on deck. “Ye heard the captain! Draw on every rag of canvas the yards will hold!”

From there, they play the waiting game. Since Valerie and Uncle Ace both took Split-Tongue Strait, they have no way of knowing what their progress is. But the wind is on their backs, and Jack seems to have lost his broodiness. Shuǐ takes that as a good sign. She just keeps working, busying herself with whatever is asked of her.

They trim the sails and lose the sweeps once they reach Devil’s Throat, just to ensure that they won’t end up crashing there, either. With enough people on deck to cover all the bases again, Shuǐ climbs up to the crow’s nest. Her heart pounds with anticipation as they get closer and closer to Shipwreck Cove, and she perks up when she only sees one mast waiting at the docks.

Her heart shatters just as quickly when they round the bend, and she spots a second.

She tries not to show it, dropping back down to the deck and hurrying to the bow, where Barbossa is looking at the two ships through a spyglass. “Whose–”

“It’s the Troubadour and the Minnow,” he answers, collapsing it. “Captain Brannigan beat us.”

“He couldn’t have,” Shuǐ refutes. “I didn’t see his ship when we turned away from the strait. How could he have caught up so quickly?”

“Who knows, lass? ‘Tis not our place to question it. Prepare the Pearl for docking.”

Shuǐ frowns at the dismissal, though Barbossa is right—questioning it won’t help them now. They’d be brushed off as sore losers. She sends a wary glance to the helm, but Jack doesn’t even look disappointed. He stares blankly at Uncle Ace’s ship, then sighs and hands the wheel off to Gibbs. Shuǐ turns to look at the Minnow again, her eyes narrowing.

Something isn’t right here.

Chapter Text

While they finish getting the Black Pearl docked, Teague steps onto the deck of the Minnow. Shuǐ watches him look over the taffrail at the scraped hull of the ship before turning to Uncle Ace’s crew and doing a headcount. “You had twenty-five men when you set off, Brannigan. I count twenty-two.”

“Had to lose some weight,” Uncle Ace responds with a sly grin. “Ya understand, don’t ya, Eddie?”

“Of course,” Teague answers evenly.

When he starts his approach to the Black Pearl, Shuǐ quickly finishes her task and doubles back to stand next to Jack, who’s made his way to the deck. It was her butting in that cost them the victory. If Jack is going to face ridicule from his family, she’ll be facing it with him.

Teague steps aboard, inspecting the ship and the crew. He lingers by the mast and runs his hand over the wood. When he gets to the stern, he addresses Jack. “Jackie.”

Jack tenses. Shuǐ readies her defense as she shifts closer to him.

“Good show, boy,” Teague says. He pats Jack on the shoulder and moves toward the helm. “Alright there, Gibbs?”

“Aye, sir,” Gibbs replies.

Teague nods. Shuǐ and Jack watch him with similar expressions of confusion as he heads back to the dock. “Everything is in order here. Valerie isn’t back yet, so we’ll wait to announce the winner.”

“I can save ya the trouble now,” Uncle Ace starts, but Teague cuts him off. “The rest of the family will be wanting to hear it, too. Come to the Mermaid at dusk. Don’t be late.”

As soon as Teague is out of earshot, Uncle Ace sends Jack a smarmy smirk. “Maybe ya should’ve used that little trick of yours closer to the end of the race, ey, Jackie boy?”

“Congratulations,” Jack responds shortly before disappearing into his quarters. Shuǐ starts to follow him, but Jia gently takes her arm, holding her back. “It might be best to let him sulk on his own for a spell.”

Shuǐ sighs and turns to her. “I shouldn’t have tried to take control of the situation. I at least need to apologize for ruining things.”

“I wouldn’t say that. Captain Valerie took the strait, and she hasn’t made it back at all. Who’s to say we would’ve fared much better?” Jia points out.

“Miss Jia is right,” Gibbs agrees as he comes down from the helm. “It was an impossible choice—either way, we were takin’ a risk. Mind you, I think Jack made the smartest one with the tide and all. It’s a wonder Cap’n Brannigan beat us.”

Jia shakes Shuǐ by the shoulder. “See? You did the right thing. I mean, I don’t think anyone blames you for this, least of all the captain.”

“I do,” Barbossa gripes as he passes behind them.

“Thank you for the vote of confidence,” Shuǐ remarks, pulling away from Jia. “I’m going to go change into something that makes me feel better about this.”

The hatch closes behind her. Jia stares at it before she turns to Gibbs. “I’ll bet you five shillings she’s going to go find Jack.”

“I’ll have to decline, miss. Throwin’ money away isn’t in my nature.”

…

“I can’t wrap my mind around it,” Shuǐ mutters as she paces back and forth across the captain’s quarters. “When we turned away from the strait, I only saw Valerie’s ship. How could your uncle be so far behind that he’s out of view and yet reach the cove before we did?”

Jack is sitting in his chair, watching his compass as the needle tracks Shuǐ’s repetitive path. He hasn’t said much since she burst in (granted, she hasn’t given much room to talk), but he finally chimes in with his opinion. “We can speculate all we want, love. It doesn’t change the fact that Uncle Ace won.”

Shuǐ runs her hands through her hair, the glass beads he braided into it last night clacking against each other. “I know that. But it’s so frustrating—if it were the result of something we overlooked, it’d be a little easier to accept. This is just senseless. It’s a senseless defeat.”

“Can you at least stop pacing?” Jack asks. “I think you’ve started to rock the ship.”

Shuǐ huffs but stops in the middle of her route, her arms crossed. Jack glances up from the compass and observes her for a moment. Her brow is furrowed in frustration, and her teeth are digging into her bottom lip. He cannot understand what has her so vexed. Perhaps if he did not know his family, he would feel the same sort of burning injustice, a gnawing frustration, for it is certain that there has been some trick at play in Uncle Ace’s victory. But Jack does know his family, and more than that, he’s certain that Shuǐ is as aware as he is that there will be no justice for them. So, why does she pace so furiously?

That’s when Jack realizes another thing. Shuǐ hasn’t looked at him all this time—her eyes are firmly fixed on the walls, guiltily avoiding his gaze.

Ah, that’s what this is about. He sighs and sets the compass down. “Love.”

She turns as he beckons to her. Shuǐ hesitates, then walks over and takes his hand, letting him pull her down onto him. Jack wraps his arms around her waist and tugs her closer as she drapes her legs over the arm of the chair. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re more upset than I am,” he purrs, kissing her jawline.

“We should’ve taken the strait,” Shuǐ murmurs as she leans her head against his.

“Mm, I don’t think so.”

“Really?”

Jack shakes his head, pulling back slightly. “They had to haul Valerie’s ship out of the rocks. That could’ve been us.”

Shuǐ hums and tugs at the red sleeve of her top. “Am I more upset than you are, or are you just taking this better than I thought you would?”

In truth, he’s not certain, either. “That is the question, isn’t it, love?” Jack’s hand comes up to brush against her necklace. “The Brethren Court is overrated. It’s all mediation and procedures and boring drabble like that. It’d just hold free spirits like us back.”

“Well, sure. But what’s your family going to say?”

“Nothing they haven’t said to me before. Who needs those beastly varmints anyway?” he jokes, kissing Shuǐ with passion. “I’ve got everything I want right here.”

That gets a laugh out of her, laying an arm over his shoulder. “Well, putting it like that…”

Her other hand cups his face as they kiss again. He revels in the way she breathes against him. He is glad they came to Shipwreck, he muses to himself, but not for the reasons he thought he’d be. Jack indulges for a bit, then pulls back with a sigh. “Alright. Let’s go be gracious failures.”

“We don’t have to,” Shuǐ reminds him.

“No, we don’t, but it’ll be worse if we don’t.” Jack waits while she gets off him with a grumble, then stands and offers her his arm. “C’mon, love. We won’t stay long. And this time, you can glare at them as much as you want.”

Shuǐ looks at him and takes it. She leans her head on his shoulder as they walk to the door. “You’re not what they say you are, you know.”

Jack blinks, slightly startled by her sincerity. Clearing his throat, he tries to redirect. “I could say the same for you.”

Shuǐ smiles knowingly at him.

Their crew is the last to arrive at the Mermaid, so they end up standing towards the back. Valerie is at the table that Jack and Shuǐ come to stand next to. She frowns when she sees them. “Come to gloat?” she asks Jack, resting her chin in her palm. “Go on, then. Let’s hear it.”

“I’ll pass,” Jack replies, his eyes narrowing when he spots Uncle Ace loudly boasting to his crew. “I have to save my wit for self-support.”

Shuǐ glances at him and weaves her fingers with his. He barely has time to revel in the feeling of her lips against the back of his hand as a shot is fired into the ceiling. That draws everyone’s attention to the center of the tavern, where Teague is standing. “Thank you, Ma. Everyone, welcome back. We’re thankful you were able to join us again—especially you, Val.”

A round of chuckling circles through the tavern, and Shuǐ notices that Valerie becomes very interested in her tankard of rum. She’s clearly not used to being the butt of the family’s jokes. For a moment, Shuǐ can’t help but feel a pang of sympathy. “Now, I’m sure we’re all eager to announce the winner.”

“Please, hold your applause,” Uncle Ace interrupts as he goes to stand. “Drinks are on me tonight!”

Amongst the drunken laughter, Teague sends him a pointed look. “However, I believe there’s been a misunderstanding among our contestants. I’d like to clear that up first.”

Uncle Ace furrows his brow but sits back down. Jack and Shuǐ share another puzzled glance while Teague goes on. “When I was giving you the terms and conditions for the challenge, one of them got lost in the fervor. There were three—the routes you were permitted to take, the time limit, and the state of your ship and crew, which was to be the same as when you started.” He turns to Uncle Ace. “Brannigan, if I recall, you began the challenge with twenty-five men and returned with twenty-two. Not to mention that nasty gash down the Minnow’s port quarter.”

Uncle Ace stares at Teague, and his eyes go wide, suddenly understanding what he’s saying. “By all accounts, that would be grounds for disqualification. And Valerie didn’t make it back before sundown, so I can’t very well declare her the winner,” Teague reasons. “That leaves us with Jackie.”

Shuǐ perks up, turning to Jack. The family turns as well, though they do not seem near as happy about this turn of events. Jack stares blankly at his father, seemingly waiting for something more before finally saying, “Huh?”

“Well, you returned before sundown, didn’t you, boy?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“With the Pearl and your crew in the same condition as when you started?”

“True enough.”

“Now, wait a goddamn minute, Edward,” Uncle Ace interjects as he stands again. “Ya told us we had to be the first ones back to the cove. I got there first!”

Teague gives him a look. “You lost three of your men and damaged your ship. That violates the second condition.”

Uncle Ace is grasping at straws now. He defiantly crosses his arms. “The rotten whelp still didn’t get there first. If you’re going to be difficult about this, fine. We’ll race again.”

Shuǐ grimaces and steps forward, but Jack keeps a steady grip on her hand, his eyes still carefully locked on his father. “Sure, Jackie didn’t get there first,” Teague agrees. “But as it chances, he probably should have. He got ahead of you and Val right at the start, and since he made it back in one piece, I assume he didn’t take the strait. It certainly is incredible that you beat him, Ace.”

“I didn’t take the strait, either,” Uncle Ace scoffs unconvincingly.

“That’s bullshit,” Shuǐ finally retorts. “You never passed us. We couldn’t even see your ship when we got to Split-Tongue.”

Valerie picks her head up, her eyes narrowing. “That’s right. I didn’t see the Minnow behind us when we reached the islet, either. Where were you?”

Uncle Ace stammers feebly, looking at his crew. None of them come to his defense. Jack abruptly lets go of Shuǐ’s hand and snaps his fingers, unintentionally capturing everyone’s attention. “It doesn’t make sense.”

Shuǐ opens her mouth to ask where his mind has been for the last several minutes, but he holds up a hand to stop her. “That’s the key, isn’t it? It doesn’t make sense because the man running the ship has no sense. There’s no way you could’ve beaten us there without anyone seeing you, which we didn’t. And the only way you could’ve managed that, short of turning the whole lot of you invisible, is if you didn’t take the routes you were supposed to. But you had to play the game, at least for a bit, so you waited until Val and I had passed the islet.”

“And then what? I turned around? Ridiculous!” Uncle Ace snaps.

Jack shrugs. “You said it, mate, not me.”

The color drains out of Uncle Ace’s face as he looks around at the other family members, glaring daggers at him. “That’s how your ship got scratched,” Valerie realizes. “It clipped the rocks when you swung it around.”

“Precisely. Which means you,” Jack announces, turning to point directly at Uncle Ace, “are a grass-combing, cheating, pestiferous idiot.”

Shuǐ snorts and quickly covers her mouth to stifle her laughter. With the rest of the family eyeing him like something found on the hull of their ships, Uncle Ace slowly sinks back into his chair, defeated. “I don’t think I need to tell you that you’ve been eliminated, Brannigan,” Teague states. “That means–”

“Jack wins!” Gibbs cheers.

The crew erupts in celebration and applause, and Shuǐ steps back as Jack approaches Teague. Slowly but surely, the rest of his family joins in, though they’re nowhere as enthusiastic. A hush falls over the tavern when Teague brandishes a large, bound book and holds up his piece of eight. Jack places one hand on the book and raises the other. “Jack Sparrow, do you swear to uphold the Pirata Codex, the Code of the Pirate Brethren, on pain of exile and/or death?”

“Aye,” Jack replies.

“Do you swear to protect the secrets of the ocean, those we have encountered, and those that still lie in wait of discovery?”

“Aye.”

“Do you swear to raid, pillage, plunder, and otherwise pilfer your weaselly black guts out for as long as you may sail the seven seas?”

“I think you made that part up.”

Teague gives him a look, and Jack nods. “Fine, yes.”

“Then welcome to the Brethren Court, Jack Sparrow, Pirate Lord of Madagascar,” Teague declares, holding out the piece of eight.

“Can I be Pirate Lord of the Caribbean instead?” he asks.

“…Yeah, alright, sure.”

“Cheers.” Jack takes the piece of eight, then turns around, gesturing to Uncle Ace. “Well, you heard Ace! Drinks are on him!”

As the rest of the tavern continues to applaud, Jia leans over to Shuǐ. “Now I’m confused. I thought cheating in things like this was part of the appeal of pirating.”

“Sure it is,” Pintel interjects. “But not when you’re cheatin’ other pirates.”

“Ah, well, that clears all of it up, doesn’t it?”

Shuǐ smiles and nudges Jia with her shoulder, then turns her attention to Jack, who’s begun to make his way back to her. She dashes to meet him halfway, throwing her arms around him and kissing him on the cheek. “How d’you like that?” Jack says with a grin when she pulls back to look at him. “We’re not hopeless after all.”

“I never doubted you for a moment,” Shuǐ remarks, cupping his face.

“I don’t believe that.”

She tilts her head as she gives him a look. “Fine, you’ve convinced me,” Jack admits, leaning forward to kiss her.

Shuǐ beams as she kisses him back. It’s wonderful for a moment to have something celebratory between just them in a crowded room, where nobody is watching them. She could stay like this forever, with pride in her heart threatening to burst out of her chest as Jack recaptures her lips. However, they’re quickly interrupted by somebody clearing their throat.

Jack reluctantly pulls away when he sees it's his grandmother, though he keeps his arm around Shuǐ’s waist. “Grandmama.”

“Boy,” she replies shortly. “Managed to pull it off, I see.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you listen to instinct.”

Grandmama grunts, then turns to Shuǐ. “Who’s she?”

“Sao Shuǐ,” she introduces herself, nodding politely in greeting. “I’m his confidante.”

“Is that a new word for whore?”

Shuǐ’s face immediately drops into a scowl, but Jack steps between them. “Enough, Gran. She’s on my crew.”

His grandmother rolls her eyes. “No wonder. You always did like protecting delicate things.”

“She’s not the one who needs protection,” Jack retorts firmly. “If you were anyone else, you’d already have a dagger sticking out of your throat. And I can’t promise she won’t still try it.”

Grandmama looks at Shuǐ again, then harrumphs and trudges off, muttering something about “blasted good-for-nothin’ youths.” “She’s awfully pleasant, isn’t she?” Shuǐ asks wryly as they watch her stomp back to the bar.

“A riot,” Jack snorts, bringing his arm up so it rests around her shoulders. “Don’t listen to anything she says. She’s a bitter old woman.”

Shuǐ hums in agreement. The two of them stand there for a moment until Jack says, “So, now what?”

“Jia asked me to teach her how to win while gambling earlier,” Shuǐ states. “Shall we use your family in our lesson?”

“You know me so well,” he jokes before dragging her to the nearest table.

…

Shuǐ wakes up around sunrise the next morning, but when she heads to the galley for a snack, she quickly realizes that she’s the only one up. That doesn’t surprise her; the crew was up rather late celebrating and drinking (heavily, in most cases). For all of Jack’s family’s many faults, they certainly know how to party. She learned at least three new shanties last night.

Still, she quite likes the idea of having the ship to herself for a bit. And when she comes up to the deck and sees Jack in the crow’s nest, her morning plans get even better.

He looks up from the letter he’s reading as she climbs over the back of the nest. “Morning, love.”

“What’s that?” Shuǐ asks, sitting next to him.

“Letter from Dad. I've gotta go up to the Chamber and learn some more junk about this Brethren Court business.”

She shifts closer to read it. “Poor you. Mind if I come along?”

“Course not. You know you make everything in life a bit more bearable,” Jack states matter-of-factly.

Shuǐ smiles and leans her head on his shoulder, watching as the orange sky shifts into a pale blue. When she glances up at Jack again, she notices that the piece of eight his father gave him is hanging from the end of one of his braids. “How long did that take you?” she jokes as she reaches up to flick it.

Jack gently grabs her wrist and pushes her hand away. “Long enough for me not to want to do it again. Play with your own hair.”

“Oh, that reminds me.” Shuǐ sits up and reaches into the pocket of her trousers and pulls out a bag of shillings, handing it over. “I believe that belongs to you.”

“I thought you won these in our game of putt.”

“I did.”

Jack looks at her as he tosses the pouch up. “I’m not sure you understand how gambling works, love.”

“I know how it works,” Shuǐ retorts. “But I started cheating on round four, and I didn’t want to rob you. Just your great-aunt.”

“Ah, I see. Well, thank you kindly.” Jack starts to put it away, but then he looks over and grins at her. “And I believe it was actually round three.”

Shuǐ scoffs but takes the hand he offers to her when he stands. “Now, I say we go get some breakfast before we get our ears talked off about rules and contracts and whatnot.”

“I’m starting to wonder if you would’ve rather somebody else won,” Shuǐ notes as she follows Jack down.

“I do have to deal with the Court’s nonsense now,” he muses.

“Yes, but they also have to deal with you.”

“Love, I like the way you think.”

Shuǐ laughs. They both end up grabbing food to go from Jia, who’s luckily finished some of the pastries for breakfast already. Then they set out, chatting all the while.

They’re in such a hurry that they don’t notice the second pelican that lands on the Black Pearl’s deck, holding another bottle in its beak.

When they reach the grand vessel that the Great Chamber is housed in, Shuǐ looks around in awe. It’s crafted with fine oak and decorated with peeling gold decals. “This ship is beautiful. It’s a shame it's in such a state of disrepair.”

“I’ve always said we should clean it up some,” Jack tells her, stepping around a fallen board. “Make it match the regard the Court is held with.”

“You’re a Pirate Lord now. Why don’t you bring it up?” Shuǐ suggests.

“I could, I suppose. I don’t really want to do the work of getting it in shape, though. Takes a lot of organization.”

“Well, now we know why it hasn’t been done yet.”

“Maybe one day someone with more conviction will undertake it. Ah, here we are.”

They reach a pair of doors with two Jolly Roger flags standing on either side. Jack reaches for the looped handle, then turns to Shuǐ with an air of suspense. “Now, love, behind these doors is the most important room you will ever see in your life. But if you're expecting some grand dance hall, I’m afraid you’ll be sorely disappointed. The Great Chamber is a place where the worst of the best pirates gather. Or maybe it’s the best of the worst. I digress. The walls are littered with musket shots, and I’m fairly certain there’s a permanent pool of blood staining the floor from the last meeting.”

Shuǐ stares back at him, unimpressed. “Open the door, Jack.”

“Alright. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Jack pushes the door open—and Shuǐ’s heart stops.

But it’s not because of the dingy state of the Chamber, or the burned holes in the wall, or the dusky stain of red on the floor that may or may not be blood.

No, it’s something much worse.

Sao Feng stands across from Teague, and when he looks at Shuǐ, she stiffens like she’s just heard a gunshot.

She should’ve known that sooner or later, she’d be delivered to the lion’s den.

Chapter Text

Even though she’s not at all thrilled with the scene that faces her, Shuǐ still nudges Jack away when he tries to step in front of her. The gesture is appreciated, of course, but unnecessary. This is her matter to handle. She doesn’t need her father thinking she can’t stand up for herself after all this.

With her initial shock ebbing, she realizes that Sao has brought along reinforcements. Two of her younger brothers, the seventeen-year-old twins, Zhou and Zhen. Then her eyes lock with her bespectacled eldest brother. Her stony glare falters. “Bo?”

He gives her an apologetic look as Sao turns to Teague. “Thank you for the assistance, Captain. If you don’t mind, I’d like a private word with my daughter.”

“Of course,” Teague responds, though his tone is a bit curt. As he passes Jack, Teague gestures for him to follow. “Jackie, we have matters to discuss.”

Jack looks as though it’s the most unbelievable suggestion he’s ever heard. “I’m not leaving her with him.”

“Jack,” Shuǐ interjects. “Go.”

He opens his mouth to argue, but she silences him with another stern glare. She let him deal with his family affairs on his own, for the most part. It’s her turn. Jack grimaces but goes after Teague, shutting the door behind him.

Dust drifts down from the boards above them while Shuǐ steps further into the room, addressing Bo. Having an ally present has, at least, given her the confidence needed to hold her ground. “So, what kind of story did he spin for you? Must’ve been compelling if you forsook your hard-earned career.”

“The meeting cannot commence,” Sao interrupts icily, “until all weapons are surrendered.”

He gestures to the globe on the long table to their right, where three swords—including his—are already sheathed. Shuǐ narrows her eyes but unsheathes hers and jabs it in, right between Africa and South America. “He told me that you and Jia Liang had been kidnapped,” Bo answers diplomatically as she steps away.

“And do I look like a hostage to you?” Shuǐ asks wryly.

Zhen says his piece before Bo can reply. “What were we supposed to think? Both of you disappeared in the night, without a word to anyone!”

Shuǐ rolls her eyes. “There’s no need for dramatics. We snuck out. It’s not my fault if it never crossed Father’s mind that I am an autonomous being.”

“Watch your tongue,” Sao snaps.

“Where is Jia, anyway?” Zhou inquires, overlapping with the retort.

“Last I saw? Making breakfast. Now, I imagine Barbossa is teaching her how to play bridge properly, so she’ll stop losing all our money.” Shuǐ pauses, then raises a brow. “Shall I tell her you send your regards?”

Zhou brightens. “Could you?”

Sao instantly sends him a dangerous glower, and Zhou draws back. “I would not be so ill-mannered if I were you, Shuǐ.”

She scowls back at her father. “I’ll be as ill-mannered as I want. You have no power over me here.”

“My rank is higher than your officious captain’s. He has no choice but to return you to me.”

“What, because you’re on the Brethren Court? Didn’t Captain Teague tell you about Jack’s promotion?” Shuǐ asks, crossing her arms. “My ‘officious captain’ is the recently appointed Pirate Lord of the Caribbean.”

It feels good to watch Sao stumble on his threats as he processes the new piece of information. “I am your father,” he declares finally. “That trumps any authority he may have over you.”

Shuǐ can’t help but scoff. “Oh, yes, and I’m sure he’ll be just elated by such a demand. He wasn’t even going to leave me alone with you a few moments ago. If you think he’s going to be sympathetic to your reasoning at all, you’re sorely mistaken. He knows all about what happened the last time I was on one of your ships. Not to mention, Captain Teague wasn’t pleased when he learned you’d not only deceived him but also wasted his time and efforts. I doubt the rest of the Court will be, either.”

Her father clamps his mouth shut, irate. It’s then that Shuǐ realizes (perhaps at the same time as him) that, for what may be the first time in her life, she has the upper hand here. Upon her entrance she had felt the same fear that always seized her at the sight of him, but that fear is swiftly fading. And she doesn’t feel like wilting, or drawing back, or making herself small to pacify him. Something instinctive is urging her to say everything she’s been bottling up since the day he first raised his voice at her.

Something wants her to make him feel as small as she’s felt for all these years.

“Honestly, what were you thinking?” Shuǐ wonders aloud. “I’ve felt more alive on the Pearl than I ever did in Singapore, and I have the stories to prove it. Did you really believe I would give it all up just because you told me to?”

Sao turns to Bo and jerks his head at him. “Shuǐ, we’re only worried for your safety,” Bo starts, but his heart is barely in the protest.

She holds out her arms. “Am I missing any limbs? Do you see any sign of injury? Please, let me know if you do. I’d hate to bleed out and die during this riveting intervention.”

Bo gives her a look but says nothing. “How have you even survived this long?” Zhou asks. “You barely knew how to hold a sword when you left.”

“I was faking that. Bo can attest to that. Besides, the crew has no qualms about me being there, so they’ve made sure to fill the gaps in my knowledge. I’ve even captained the ship a few times, while Jack was wounded.” It’s not a necessary addition, but she’s enjoying how red Sao’s face is getting.

“So, it’s worse than we thought,” Zhen chides with a scowl. “You’re no pirate. You’re Captain Sparrow’s glorified lapdog.”

“At least I’m keeping it out of the family,” Shuǐ counters before she can stop herself.

She swears she hears Bo snort before her father thunders, “Enough! No more entertaining this insolent chatter. You will be coming home, whether you want to or not.”

When Sao steps forward, Shuǐ immediately moves for her sword. “If you try to lay a finger on me, I will cut you open.”

Sao scoffs. “You couldn’t kill one stranger. I doubt you have the resolve to kill your own father.”

He gets closer, and Shuǐ grabs the hilt of the embedded blade as a warning. “Oh, don’t be such a child, girl,” Sao scolds irritably. “Coming quietly will make things easier for all of us. Your fiancé won’t wait for that dowry forever, and I’m sure you’ll find his betrothal gifts–”

“Fiancé?” Bo cuts him off.

His interruption allows the word to settle in Shuǐ’s ears. She drops her hand onto the table, her glare burning into her father. “What do you mean, fiancé?”

Sao doesn’t even try to backtrack. He just juts his chin out. “A marriage will help you settle. The lord I’ve selected is especially resolved—if he isn’t able to tame you, you truly are a hopeless case.”

“Tame me? So, this wild goose chase was never out of concern, was it? You came here to collect your stock. You want to sell me like an animal going to slaughter!”

“Don’t get hysterical. We’re leaving, now.”

“You must be absolutely mad to think I’ll be going anywhere with you,” Shuǐ seethes. “I am leaving with my captain and my crew, on my ship. I am going to make sure we get as far away from you as possible. And if I want to give myself tattoos, or drink until sunrise, or cheat at cards, or—sure, even be Jack Sparrow’s lapdog—I’m going to do it. And do you know what the best part is, Father?”

This is where she makes her mistake. Shuǐ gets within arm’s reach of Sao, the pale beams of light streaming through the boards making it look like there are embers in her discolored eyes. Her heart has never let her back away from a threat—but her father’s hand is the only threat she’s never been able to still. The words leave her, and she cannot brace herself for what she knows comes next.

“There is nothing you can do about it.”

…

Jack has barely listened to a word his father has said. His focus is trained on the muffled sounds coming from the Great Chamber. Fortunately, there are only so many places to go in this rickety old ship, so he can still make out the voices from where he is. Unfortunately, they’re all speaking in a language he can’t understand, so he has no idea if this has miraculously become a cordial conversation or if he needs to go bail Shuǐ out.

And then he hears something that’s fairly universal, something he was certain he’d hear and still hoped he wouldn’t—a sharp smack and a wounded cry that sounds terribly like Shuǐ.

Jack immediately ditches Teague and races back to the Great Chamber. The pit in his stomach grows deeper with every step he takes. When he throws open the doors, Shuǐ is bracing herself against the table, one hand covering the side of her face. Seeing as Sao is currently occupied in a shouting match with one of his sons and she’s two moves away from reaching for her sword, Jack rushes to her side. “Love, are you–”

As he subtly moves her away from the weapons, he takes her hand and brings it down. Jack’s breath hitches when he sees a red mark spreading across her cheekbone.

“Sparrow, step away from my daughter,” Sao barks abruptly—he must’ve just noticed he was there. “She’s coming with me.”

Jack does the exact opposite, gently pushing Shuǐ behind him as he puts himself between her and her father. “If you think I’m gonna let you make off with one of my most valuable crew members, you’re sorely mistaken.”

Sao sneers at him and reaches for his sword. “Don’t do something you might regret, boy.”

“Believe me, mate, I’m not,” Jack retorts, putting his hand on the hilt of his cutlass.

“Jackie!”

He stiffens when Teague calls out, turning to see him in the doorway. However, what he says next is not what Jack expects. “Take the girl out of here. I need to have a word with Captain Sao.”

Jack doesn’t hesitate. He puts an arm around Shuǐ—who’s still fixing Sao with a fierce glare—and leads her to the chart archives, where he had been ignoring his own father. The mangy dog curled up in the corner looks up when they enter, the ring of keys in its mouth jingling. Shuǐ suddenly brightens as though nothing had happened. “You didn’t tell me you had a pet.”

The dog’s tail thumps against the floor when she walks over, scratching it behind the ears. “Yeah, well, I thought the old mutt would’ve keeled over by now,” Jack admits. After all, it’d been alive longer than he had. He’s starting to wonder if it’s going to outlive him.

“You’re not a mutt,” Shuǐ assures the dog before addressing Jack. “What are the keys for?”

The dog licks around the loop of keys. “Not sure. He just has ‘em.”

“Full of mystery, aren’t you?”

Jack doesn’t chime in. His eyes are still locked on the bruise blossoming across her face. Shuǐ finally glances up at him and sighs, saying with a tone much too casual for his liking, “Will you please stop looking at me like that? I’m fine.”

“He hit you.”

“So? It’s nothing that hasn’t happened before,” Shuǐ mutters as she stands. She pulls part of her hair over her shoulder, so it covers the bruise.

“And you let me leave you with him?” Jack asks. When he had to face Grandmama’s rage as a boy, he would always go find someone to be his human shield or at least hide in a populated area until things had calmed down. Facing it alone never ended well.

Shuǐ shrugs it off. “I can handle my father, Jack. I’ve been doing it for years.”

“But you don’t have to. Isn’t that what you’ve been preaching to me since we got here?”

“I do if it’s my father. Can you please just leave it?”

Jack squints at her but gets no chance to make his case as they hear the doors to the Great Chamber open and shut. Despite her words, Shuǐ visibly tenses, then eases when one of Sao Feng’s sons walks in carrying her sword. She greets him in the same language Jack had heard her speaking in the Great Chamber, and the son responds with an even tone but a serious look.

Jack not-so-subtly clears his throat, and Shuǐ turns to him. “Right. Bo, this is Jack Sparrow. He’s my captain. Jack, this is my eldest brother. He’s on my side.”

“Is he now?” Jack asks skeptically.

Bo nods as he hands Shuǐ her sword. “I do not approve of my sister’s obsession with putting herself in harm’s way. But I am not as stubborn as our father. I’m well aware that there’s no point in making an enemy of her.”

“I’ll get no lecture from you, then?” she asks jokingly.

“I know you can protect yourself. I taught you how to, after all.”

Shuǐ smiles at Bo, then gives Jack a pointed look as if to reinforce that everything is fine. She and Bo exchange a few more words in their language before Teague enters, looking heated. When they turn to him, he huffs. “The situation has been taken care of, for now. Jackie, I would head out if I were you—quickly. I’ll send anything else you need to know in a letter.”

If it were anyone else in any other circumstance, Jack might feel a tinge of resentment for his father, defending a stranger when he’s never done the same for his own son. Right now, though, he’s all for that. Jack looks at Shuǐ, and she sheathes her sword with a nod. Bo says something to her that causes her to smile half-heartedly. “What was that about?” Jack asks as he leads her out the back way, ensuring that they won’t go past the Great Chamber.

“He’s going to stall for us,” Shuǐ tells him as she continues fussing with her hair. “I doubt he needs to, what with the Pearl’s speed, but the sentiment is nice.”

“Hasn’t Father Dearest made his point? Why would he follow us?”

Shuǐ purses her lips. It seems that, at least for a moment, she considers not telling him. But she relents. “He’s married me off. Not that it matters. Betrothed or not, I’m not going anywhere with him. He’ll have to figure that out by himself.”

Jack doesn’t comment. But he does find himself looking over his shoulder more than before.

When they get back to the docks, he murmurs to her, “I’ll get the Pearl moving. Wait for me in my quarters.”

It solves two problems—Shuǐ won’t be bothered about the bruise, and if she has some space, maybe she’ll actually talk to him, or at the very least show an emotion other than indifference toward the whole thing. She nods and goes straight for the hatch once they board. That still catches the crew’s attention, and she must not have disguised the mark as well as she thought because Jack has barely brought up the gangway when Jia accosts him. “Shuǐ’s face–”

“Courtesy of Sao Feng,” he replies shortly before turning to the rest of the crew. “Loose the moorings. Get underway at once.”

“Jack, what’s with all the haste?” Barbossa asks, following behind Jack as he begins loosening the moorings himself.

He tugs the lines onto the deck and leaves them there, not concerned about neatness. “Shuǐ’s father is a varmint, that’s what. Can we get the ship moving or not?”

“What do ye mean, varmint?”

“I mean he’s as bad as mine.” Jack turns around to see that no one is as alarmed as he needs them to be, and he shouts, “What the blazes are you lot waiting for? Movement! I want movement! Be quick about it!”

Finally, the crew gets to it, swiftly preparing the Black Pearl for departure. He turns back to Barbossa. “If you see a ship following us—any ship—lose them immediately. Don’t come and bother me. Don’t ask for my orders. My orders are to sail very far away from them, very fast. Savvy?”

Barbossa still looks thoroughly bemused, but he nods. “Aye, Jack.”

“Good man,” he says before going for the hatch. The crew has their commands; now he has other responsibilities to handle.

Which will be easier said than done, as he realizes when he tries to open the door to his quarters that Shuǐ has no doubt blocked the knob with a chair.

Jack tries to jiggle it a few more times, but the door doesn’t budge. He calls to her, “Love, it’s me,” and gets no response. Alright, fine. He gets the message. She needs more time. He can give her that.

The Black Pearl pulls away from Shipwreck City, and Shuǐ is nowhere to be seen. They pass through Devil’s Throat, and she never surfaces on deck to help. She doesn’t so much as stick her head out when Jia brings her dinner, according to Jia’s account.

Now frustration is starting to melt into concern. So, after the crew has dispersed from the mess, Jack takes another crack at the door, this time knocking and calling out, “I’m back.”

Shuǐ still doesn’t answer. “You know you’re in my quarters, right?” Jack points out as he leans against the door, crossing his arms. “You’re going to have to let me in sooner or later.”

Nothing. But he hears movement, so she’s not dead or asleep. Just stubborn. And most likely sad, no matter how fine she pretends to be.

Jack stands there for a bit, wracking his brain for a solution. He’s tried the Good Samaritan route, and it’s done him no good. It’s not his style. He might have to meet her at her level.

“D’you remember when you asked me what the worst my family could do to me was?” Jack asks, not waiting for a response. “I didn’t tell you everything. When I was a boy, Grandmama nearly beat me to death on three separate occasions. And those were just the times when somebody else stepped in to save my sorry self. It was far from an isolated incident.”

He pauses, but when he gets no reply, he presses on. “I always hated that I never had anyone on my side. Until you. So, if this is about me not understanding—I’ll tell you one thing, love, I might be the only person on this ship who does.”

He waits again. And finally, he hears the doorknob jiggle, then the scraping of a chair against the floor.

Jack gives it a few seconds before he opens the door. Shuǐ has gotten comfortable, and she’s sitting on the bunk, her back to him. He follows her example and takes off his boots, setting them haphazardly by his coat and hat on the chair. Sitting next to her on the bunk, he leans against the window and closes his eyes.

It doesn’t take her long to shift closer to him. Jack keeps his eyes shut as he feels Shuǐ turn and rest her head on his shoulder. It’s not until he hears her take a shaky breath that he glances at her and realizes she’s silently crying—and has been for a while, judging by the redness of her eyes.

Truthfully, he’s not sure what to make of it. He’s never been good at this sort of thing. Jack carefully brings his arm up around her to tug her closer. She lets him and turns her face more into his shoulder, burying it there as her tears start coming faster. He whispers a few words of comfort to her, but he finds it’s in his best interest to stay quiet.

They stay like that for quite a while—long enough that it’s nearly pitch-black outside when Shuǐ finally says something, her voice far more delicate than he’s ever heard, like a vase that’s been broken before and shakily put back together, waiting to break again. “He’s not going to stop just because your father told him to.”

“We’ll shake him off our trail,” Jack assures her, brushing her hair out of her tear-stained face.

“That won’t be enough,” Shuǐ refutes as she abruptly sits up. “There are only so many places to go. And my father is a lot of things, but he’s not a quitter. Short of threat to himself, there’s nothing that will keep him from getting what he wants.”

“Love, the Pearl can sail circles around him for as long as it takes. You’re safe here.”

Shuǐ doesn’t look convinced. She grabs the hand that’s cupping the unbruised side of her face and pulls it away (though she doesn’t let go, so Jack must be doing something right). “Promise me. Promise me that no matter what he tells you, no matter what kind of poison he tries to put in your head, you won’t believe it. Promise me you won’t let him get anywhere near me.”

Jack stares at her for a moment. He’s not used to seeing Shuǐ so…desperate. This fearless woman, who’s slain her share of men, who’s approached beasts with no hesitation, who was ready to cut her father for daring to lay his hands on her, rendered terrified by the mere thought that he could reach her again. But when he thinks about it—if Sao Feng gets to her, she’s going to be stolen back to Singapore. Taken away from him and given to someone who could treat her more horridly than her father. That’s worse than anything his family has done or could do to him.

It shouldn’t be him. She trusts him enough to put her life in his hands, but he’s not worthy of it. He should tell her as much. He’s a no-good, dirty, rotten pirate. She deserves so much more than what he can offer her.

Selfishly, Jack laces his fingers with Shuǐ’s and brings her hand to his lips, kissing the back of it. “I swear it.”

She finally relaxes. Her gaze softens as she runs her thumb over one of his rings. After a moment, Shuǐ clears her throat and glances up at him somewhat self-consciously. “Could I stay here for the night?”

“Love,” Jack begins, raising her chin with his other hand, “might I make a request?”

Shuǐ gives him a confused look but nods. “If you ever ask me that question, and I ever say no, I want you to smack me as hard as you possibly can,” Jack says seriously.

She looks at him blankly. Then she starts to laugh.

“No, really,” Jack continues, though he grins at the fact that she’s finally smiling again, and genuinely now. “‘Cause one of two things has happened—I’ve either gone stark raving mad, or I’ve been replaced. And I don’t want anyone else getting their hands on you.”

“I suppose I can understand that.” Shuǐ pauses, then asks, “Could I also get a kiss?”

“And if I ever say no to that question, lash me to something very heavy and throw me off the ship.”

Her humored scoff is cut off when he places his lips on hers. Jack takes it slow at first, not wanting to push her in her state. But when Shuǐ deepens the kiss and swings her leg over to straddle him, he realizes they have very different ideas of what’s going to comfort her right now. It’s becoming less soothing, and more needy. Like she’s looking for something to lose herself in. She nips at his bottom lip in a way that’s almost investigational and Jack very nearly abandons all attempts at being chivalrous.

He’s still cautious with where he’s putting his hands, in case he’s reading her signs wrong. But when they finally find a place on her shoulders, Shuǐ grabs his wrists and moves them lower. Just as Jack begins to wonder if this is some cruel test of self-restraint, she pulls away for a moment, her voice coming out in a breathless whisper: “Please.”

Well, who is he to deny such a sweet request?

Later that night, Jack finds himself in a familiar position—Shuǐ curled up next to him, fast asleep with her head resting in the crook of his neck while he combs through her hair. This time, though, he’s tracing imaginary lines in her bare flesh, brushing against the marks embedded in her skin—marks he put there out of love, not malice, unlike the reddish-purple stripe hidden on the other side of her face.

He still marvels at the fact that a glorious creature like her chose him. Not just as a partner, but at all. In anything.

What he doesn’t know is that Shuǐ is still half-awake, reveling in his touch, drifting off with thoughts still floating about in her mind.

She doesn’t know what she would’ve done if not for Jack showing up in Singapore when he did. Well, she does. She would’ve fought back, fiercely too—and that wouldn’t have ended well for anyone. But whether against her father or a prospective betrothed, she’d rather choose death than let them rule her life.

Jack doesn’t know it, but he saved her.

Perhaps she’ll tell him that someday.

Chapter Text

Shuǐ stirs in the middle of the night, and try as she might, she can’t get back to sleep. Using Jack’s arm as a pillow has given her an awful cramp in the neck. After tossing and turning as subtly as possible (not that it matters, since Jack is still sleeping like a rock), she finally sits up and rolls her neck. The ache in her muscles disappears, but instead of lying back down, she looks out the window, where the moon reflects off the water. Her nerves are still set on edge. And the feeling doesn’t seem like it’ll be ebbing anytime soon.

If she can’t sleep, she might as well do something useful.

Carefully, Shuǐ lifts Jack’s other arm off of where it’s resting on her waist, then places it back on the bunk once she’s gotten up. She pauses before she leaves the bunk, then leans down and kisses him on the cheek. All in all, it only takes her a few minutes to get dressed, collect a rotting board from the hold, and retrieve her bow and quiver from the food locker.

She gets herself set up on the deck, placing the board against the foremast. Though she has little light to work with, her aim is as accurate as ever, hitting mark after mark. Yet she can’t dispel the anxiety that woke her. Shuǐ frowns to herself and nocks two arrows in her bow, preparing to send them off.

A shadow in the corner of her eye distracts her before she can.

Briefly glancing at it at first, she doesn’t think much of it. But when she realizes it’s another ship, Shuǐ lets the bowstring go slack and turns to look at it fully.

It’s far off—still a little too close for comfort. She can’t see the colors it’s flying. In the darkness, it doesn’t look like one of her father’s, but she doesn’t want to take any chances. “Do you see that?” she asks as she turns to the helm.

Then she sees something even stranger. No one is at the wheel.

Shuǐ’s eyes narrow. Jack assured her that they were getting away from Shipwreck Island as quickly as possible. Surely, he wouldn’t have wanted the crew to let the Black Pearl drift aimlessly. “Mister Gibbs? Barbossa? Hello?”

No response. There’s total silence—not even the wind is blowing, she realizes as she looks up at the Jolly Roger hanging limply from the main mast. Her grip tightens on her bow, and she begins to pull the string back again.

When she hears a footstep behind her, she doesn’t hesitate. Shuǐ whips around and lets the arrows fly (and hopes she hasn’t just attacked one of the crew, because that would certainly cause issues).

But her arrows don’t find purchase in a man.

They’ve lodged into the chest of a beast with a man’s form. He has a strange amalgamation of sea creature features—his head is like an octopus, with tentacles forming a beard, and his pale blue eyes seem to bore a hole right through her. He reaches up with a crab-claw hand and snaps the arrows piercing his chest in half.

Shuǐ instinctively reaches for her quiver again, but the beast speaks, “That wouldn’t be a wise move.”

“Who are you?” she demands, her hand still hovering above one of the arrows. If he means to do them harm, she’s the only thing standing between him and the rest of the crew. She might as well stall for them. “What are you? How did you get on this ship?”

The beast narrows his eyes as he begins to circle her. “How long ‘ave yah been on the sea, lass?”

Shuǐ matches his pace, never turning her back to him. “Near six months.”

“And yah never heard tell of Davy Jones?” he questions, stopping.

She halts as well, her eyes widening. Davy Jones harrumphs. “That’s what I thought.”

Shuǐ watches him warily for a moment but straightens up and puts her bow on her back. She used to terrorize her younger brothers with ghost stories of the cursed reaper of the seas and his ship of the damned, the Flying Dutchman. But she’d never truly thought they were anything more than stories. If what she’s heard from other tales is accurate, she has to be very careful about this. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“There’ll be no pleasure. Only business. Somethin’ of mine recently went missin’,” Jones states, approaching her. Shuǐ holds her ground, though she finds herself wishing she’d brought her sword with her. It’d make her feel as brave as she’s acting. “Somethin’ very rare. A monster.”

When Shuǐ doesn’t answer, he sneers at her. “D’you have any idea how hard it was to tame that dragon?”

“She wasn’t tame,” Shuǐ refutes before she can think better of it. “She was miserable and angry.”

“It was my guard, and yah let it loose,” Jones chastises.

Her fists clench. “I set her free.”

“Yah made a very powerful enemy is what yah did.”

Shuǐ grimaces. But Jones is right—for all the skill, wit, and courage she might have, it pales in comparison to his supernatural control over the seas. She has to consider Jack and the others before her noble heart goes too far. “We didn’t know you had claimed Kiribati for yourself. If we had–”

“Who else would have the authority to bind the monster in the first place?” Jones retorts as he passes her.

“Well, what do you want from me?” Shuǐ questions, turning to face him. “I can arrange the return of almost everything we took from the caverns. Given the circumstances, I’m certain the crew will be more than happy to give it back.”

Jones doesn’t say anything at first. He sighs heavily, then pulls out a pipe and takes a drag of it, the smoke billowing from his mouth. He looks back at her after a moment. “Yer father is Sao Feng.”

It’s not a question, which catches her off guard. Still, Shuǐ nods. “Yes.”

“He’s huntin’ yah.”

“Unfortunately.”

Davy Jones turns to face her fully. “Recapture the demon for me and I’ll call him off.”

“No,” Shuǐ answers immediately. “I can handle my father without your help. I won’t trade anyone’s freedom for my own.”

“Bold words from someone servin’ Jack Sparrow,” Davy Jones scoffs.

That catches her interest, but she tucks it away for later and presses on. “Even if I could somehow manage to wrangle her, it wouldn’t last. Things that aren’t meant to be imprisoned have a way of getting unbound. It’s in their nature, as well as mine,” Shuǐ adds. “Thank you for the generous offer, Captain Jones. But I must decline.”

He scowls, but he doesn’t seem like he’s going to attack. She figures if he wanted to, he would’ve already. Jones walks around her, his hands—tentacle-hand and claw—behind his back. “Yer young. Inexperienced. Yah know not the forces at play in this game of yers. Let it be known, that’s the only reason I’ll be leavin’ in peace. But answer me this, Sao Shuǐ.”

Shuǐ turns around, only to come face to face with him.

“Do yah fear death?”

Shuǐ jolts, pushing herself up from the bunk.

The bunk? She already got up.

But as she looks around, she realizes she’s back in the captain’s quarters. The sun is lighting the room now, and Jack is gone—and her clothes are sitting semi-neatly on the end of the bunk, which means she’s in her former state of undress.

Was it a dream?

Well, it must’ve been. That would explain all of the strange inconsistencies. But it felt terribly real.

Shuǐ shakes her head slightly and reaches for the pile of clothes. For now, she should focus on getting herself decent. And scavenging for breakfast.

As she’s finishing up the first task, Jack takes care of the second. She’s in the middle of reaffixing her scabbard to her belt when he comes in with a plate of food. “Damn, I knew I should’ve told them to hurry up in the mess. I’ve missed the show.”

Shuǐ smiles to herself before she turns to face him. “Good morning to you, too.”

“Morning,” Jack replies. He sets the plate down, and when Shuǐ turns around fully, he brushes the hair out of her face and kisses her. “Sleep well?”

“Tried to,” she answers as she takes the dumpling off of the plate and bites into it. “Have you seen any ships?”

He shakes his head, his fingers still curling in strands of her hair. “None. The sea is clear as far as the eye can see.”

Shuǐ nods and continues eating. She notices Jack watching her keenly and wipes her mouth on her sleeve. “What?”

“Nothing. You’re just quieter than usual. Still feeling dazed?”

Shuǐ lightly smacks his arm. While Jack is chuckling, she briefly considers telling him about her dream—but now that she’s awake, it feels a bit foolish. What isn’t real can’t hurt her, so it’s not worth bothering him about.

She decides to be half-truthful. “I’m just not excited to hear what the crew is going to say about this unappealing blot on the side of my face,” Shuǐ states as she looks at the bruise in the mirror. It still aches slightly, purple and angry, and it doesn’t look like it’ll disappear by the time she’s on deck. Now that the ordeal is over with, she’s more annoyed by it than anything else. Or so she tells herself.

“It’s not that unappealing,” Jack attempts to assure her, and when she raises her brow at him: “Alright, it is, but that has nothing to do with you. And anyway, that lot was beside themselves when I told them what happened. They know not to make a fuss over it.”

“We’ll see about that,” Shuǐ jokes before pecking him on the lips. “Thanks for letting me sleep.”

Jack smirks back. “Yeah, I could tell you needed it.”

She scoffs at the comment, but as soon as she’s out of the captain’s quarters, a smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. Shuǐ squints at the sudden sunlight as she emerges on the deck, using her hand to shield her eyes. When Gibbs calls, “Take in the topsail!” she instantly goes for it, untying the halyard and bringing it in.

He looks over to thank her, then appears to do a double take. “Miss Shuǐ! You’re–”

“Alive. Unbelievable, I know.” Shuǐ finishes shortening the sail, then ties the halyard off. “Sorry for not helping to get the Pearl underway yesterday.”

“Why, that’s perfectly alright, miss. Truth be told, we didn’t expect to see much of you today, either.”

She shrugs with a smile. “I’ve moped long enough. If I spend any more time below deck, I’ll get twitchy.”

“I hear that. Close haul the jib, will you?” Gibbs requests as he makes his way to the foremast.

Shuǐ follows and bids good morning to Ragetti and Pintel, who are playing a game of All Fours. While she draws the sail in, she finds herself glancing at the horizon. But she’s no longer searching for her father’s ship—rather, her wary gaze hunts for the ship she saw in her dream. Though the waters are clear as far as the eye can see, her brow still furrows.

Gibbs clears his throat, and she turns to him. “Miss Shuǐ, your hand.”

Shuǐ looks down to see that she’s tied her wrist to the post. As she mutters curses to herself and unties the knot to free it, Ragetti looks up at her. “Whatcha watchin’ for, Miss Shuǐ?”

“Nothing, really.” Shuǐ pauses as she ties the rope correctly. “Well, I don’t think it’s anything.”

“We’ve seen no sign of Sao Feng’s ships,” Gibbs tells her. “Cap’n thinks we’re in the clear on that end.”

Shuǐ nods, only half-listening. She’s trying to decide which is worse—letting them think she’s all off-kilter because of her father or telling them that it’s actually because she’s suddenly having nightmares. Showing any sort of instability is detrimental to her standing on the ship.

But the curiosity is too much to bear. Besides, she’d rather they believe such weakness is beyond her control. “Mister Gibbs,” Shuǐ begins, looking at him again, “you’re a well-traveled man, are you not?”

“Aye, faith.”

“What does it mean when a sailor is visited by Davy Jones?”

Gibbs stares at her with wide eyes. Shuǐ raises an eyebrow back, still awaiting an answer, then realizes Pintel and Ragetti are gawking at her as well. “What?”

“Miss Shuǐ, d’you mean to say that Davy Jones has…made your acquaintance?” Gibbs asks in a grave whisper.

“No, I don’t. I had a dream, but–”

Gibbs immediately turns away from her, muttering things that sound like prayers under his breath. “What did I say?” Shuǐ wonders aloud, turning to Pintel and Ragetti.

“Do you have the black spot?” Pintel questions abruptly.

“The what?”

“Show us your hands.”

Shuǐ’s eyes narrow. “Excuse me?”

“Just do it!” Pintel demands. Ragetti nods in agreement and holds up his hands to demonstrate.

Shuǐ glares at them but rolls up her sleeves and shows them both sides of her hands. “There. Happy?”

Ragetti sighs with relief and says, “Oh, glory be,” while Pintel yells to Gibbs, “She’s alright! She don’t owe him nothing.”

Shuǐ brings her hands down, still totally befuddled. Gibbs trudges back over with his hand over his heart. “Mother’s love. By all that’s great and good, what d’you gain by scarin’ a man half-to-death, Miss Shuǐ?”

“I didn’t mean—all I asked was what happens when Davy Jones appears before someone,” Shuǐ defends. “I didn’t know we were going to have a fit about it.”

“It’s bad enough to utter his name on a ship,” Pintel hisses. “If you’d made a deal with him, we’d all be damned.”

Shuǐ crosses her arms defiantly. “As I said before, it was a dream. It wasn’t real. And even if it was, I turned him down.”

“You mean, he tried to wager with you?” Ragetti asks.

“And you said no?” Pintel adds with disbelief. “To Davy Jones?”

“Of course!”

He and Gibbs glance at each other. “She’s gone quite mad,” Pintel murmurs to him.

“Aye, and small wonder, too,” Gibbs mumbles back.

“She is standing right here,” Shuǐ interjects. “You know what? Forget I said anything. I’ll spare you my cursed presence.”

She ducks under the rigging and heads for the helm, ignoring Ragetti’s shout of “Oh, Miss Shuǐ, we didn’t mean it like that!”

Barbossa is already watching Shuǐ suspiciously when she stalks up the steps. “And what’s got ye in such a foul mood, lass?” he inquires as he steps to the side.

Shuǐ huffs, taking the wheel. “I’m damned, apparently.”

Barbossa quirks an eyebrow. “Ye didn’t know that already?”

“In a more immediate way,” she grumbles. “According to the crew, dreams are not just dreams, and if I had something called a black blot, they would be tossing me overboard.”

“The black spot.”

“I don’t care what it’s called.”

Barbossa rolls his eyes and pulls out his spyglass. “Pay ‘em no mind. They’re a superstitious bunch. They give more heed to fiction than fact.”

“And you don’t?” Shuǐ replies dryly.

“I say both have their benefits—and their detriments,” he states. “But ye have more to worry about than bein’ damned with Sao Feng on yer tail. Focus on the issue ye can do somethin’ about ‘fore ye start botherin’ with whether you’re cursed or not.”

Shuǐ glances at Barbossa, surprised by his less-than-demeaning response. “That’s unusually reassuring to have come from you.”

“Glad to be of assistance,” Barbossa grunts as he brings his spyglass down and collapses it. “And the next time ye feel somethin’ supernatural has paid ye a visit, keep it to yerself. It means I have to soothe the crew’s nerves.”

With that, he heads down to the deck, back to barking orders. Shuǐ turns her gaze to the sea. The sun is bright, beating down on them—a stark contrast from her dream. Her heart is still set on edge, though. Davy Jones offered to keep her father away from her, which means that he’d be just as willing to lead Sao to her, for a price.

It seems there’s no getting around it. She’ll have to talk to Jack after all.

…

Jack is taking a nap on the bunk when Shuǐ walks into the captain’s quarters, his hat pulled over his head. He groans when she shuts the door, but he doesn’t make any move to get up. “I don’t mean to take a leaf out of Miss Jia’s book, but don’t any of you know how to knock?”

Shuǐ swings a leg over the top of him and snatches his hat away. Briefly, Jack looks incredibly confused, until he sees it’s her. “Oh. On second thought, hello there,” he says with a grin. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“What do you know about Davy Jones?” she asks.

He pauses, his hands halfway to her chest. “Sorry?”

“You’re forgiven. Tell me what you know about Davy Jones.”

Jack blinks at her. He sits up fully and runs his hands over her thighs. “Y’know, you burst in here, you straddle me like a horse; excuse me for thinking you had something else in mind. Why’re you asking, anyway?”

“Because I had a dream last night and he was in it. Now Gibbs says I’m cursed, Barbossa says I’m not, and if I’m going to get a third opinion, I figure it should be yours,” Shuǐ states.

“You talked to Hector before you came to me?”

“I didn’t plan to. And he only knows the cursed half of it.”

Jack huffs, his hand flicking the beaded braid in her hair. “Lucky me, getting the whole story.”

Shuǐ grabs his wrist and gives him a look. “Alright. Davy Jones was a pirate who, as all sailors do, fell in love with the sea. Miraculously, the sea loved the old codger back. So much so that she gave him eternal life, as long as he ferried the souls that died at sea to the beyond,” Jack explains. “In addition to that, he could only come to land once every ten years, when he and his love would be reunited. His first mistake was believing that.”

“Why do you say that?” Shuǐ questions, lowering their hands.

Jack snorts. “Love, d’you know what you and the sea have in common?”

Shuǐ shakes her head, and he goes on, “Anyone who expects you to do their bidding is in for an unfortunate surprise.”

She smiles. “Is that why you like me so much?”

“If that’s what you want to believe,” Jack replies, grinning when she lightly shoves him. “Anyways, as you might’ve expected, that fateful day came, and the sea goddess was nowhere to be seen. Jones ended up binding her in a human form with the help of the Brethren Court as revenge, and the guilt made him carve out his own heart and lock it away. Now he wreaks havoc on the seas as a vengeful squid-man dedicated to making everyone else’s lives a living hell.” He brushes a strand of Shuǐ’s hair behind her ear. “You could see why he wouldn’t be keen on a woman like you sailing these fair waters.”

“That wasn’t the subject of his visit,” Shuǐ admits. “At least, not the whole subject. The dragon on Kiribati—he was the one who chained her up.”

He doesn’t look all that shocked. Jack just makes a face. “Oh. And?”

She sits back, trying to recall the specific wording of Davy Jones’ proposal. “He told me that if we went back and recaptured her, he would call my father’s ships off. I said no. Politely.”

“For the first time in your life?” Jack questions humorously. “I don’t know what he was thinking, going after you. You’re smarter than most pirates. And not desperate enough.”

Shuǐ grins at him. “Of course. I’m a woman, after all.”

“I would be offended by that, but I think I should just consider myself lucky that this is the first time I’ve heard you make such a comment.”

As Jack is speaking, Shuǐ realizes that he’s taken her other hand. He splays her fingers out so he can see her palms, turning her hands to see them at all angles. “I don’t have the black mark, or whatever you all call it,” she tells him. “Pintel and Ragetti already made me look.”

“Eh, still good to check. Though considering we’re not at the bottom of the sea right now, I think our odds are fairly decent.” Jack curls her fingers in and looks at the backs of her hands, then kisses them. “Seems fine to me.”

She’s right on the cusp of mentioning how sweet he’s being when, in a matter of moments, she’s on her back with Jack hovering over her. “Then again, the mark could be somewhere else. If you don’t mind, I think I should conduct a more thorough investigation.”

Shuǐ laughs and wraps her arms around his neck. “Didn’t you say our odds are fairly decent?”

“Aye, but better safe than sorry, don’t you agree?”

She responds by kissing him, her hand drifting to the side of his face. Something cool rests against the bridge of her nose and when Jack pulls away, she realizes it’s the piece of eight hanging from one of his braids.

And in the untimeliest of moments, she gets a great idea for her next tattoo.

Chapter Text

“So, is this becoming a hobby?” Jia asks when she sees the new piece of eight tattoo etched into Shuǐ’s skin. “I didn’t think you’d be so particular, what with the requests I overhear the boys making.”

Once she makes sure her sleeves aren’t going to unroll themselves, Shuǐ draws her sword. “An artist worries more about what’s going to mark her body than most people, I imagine. Besides, it’s nice to keep track of where we’ve been.”

“I can keep track of where you’ve been without the tattoos,” Jia mutters, eyeing the reddish-pink blotch that’s only half-hidden by the collar of Shuǐ’s top.

“They’re mosquito bites.”

From the helm, Shuǐ hears Jack chuckle. “Vicious mosquito. One could say depraved, even.”

She turns to give him a look and tugs the collar up. “Alright, now I regret saying anything,” Jia gripes as she brandishes her sword. “Can we start already?”

“Gladly,” Shuǐ replies, and so their match begins. With Bill back in England, she’s taken over Jia’s sword-fighting lessons, which mostly consist of sparring nowadays. At the moment, they’re focusing on locks.

Shuǐ advances and pushes against Jia’s sword, her free hand reaching across to grab Jia’s arm. Jia answers in kind and from there, it’s a test of strength. A test that Shuǐ quickly wins when she lunges, throwing Jia off balance and causing her to falter. Shuǐ knocks Jia’s sword out of her hands, spins her to the ground, and then raises her blade to eye level. “I believe that’s a win for me.”

Jia purses her lips. “See, this is why it’s no fun to pester you. I never know when you’re going to pull something like that.”

“Well then, don’t you feel fortunate that I haven’t?” Shuǐ jokes as she offers a hand and pulls Jia to her feet. “You’re much better than you were when you started, honestly. You’ll be chopping off heads in no time.”

Jia fake-gags. “No thank you. I’ll stick to self-defense.”

“You might have to chop off somebody’s head in self-defense,” Jack points out.

Jia starts to counter, but her retort is cut off when Pintel and Ragetti pop onto the deck in a rush—though their pace slows considerably once they approach the helm. “Cap’n, we have a problem.”

“Is it Shuǐ-related?” Jack asks, and Shuǐ looks around, too. There’s still no sign of her father’s ships on the horizon, and she hasn’t been pestering anyone but Jia all day, so she’d be surprised if it is.

“Uh, no, Cap’n. It’s–” Pintel stops, then turns to Ragetti, who shakes his head and gestures for Pintel to go on.

Jack stares at them both, unamused. “Well? Spit it out, mate.”

“Uh, y’see, Cap’n, it’s—the—y’know, well…”

“The lockpicks have gone missing,” Ragetti blurts out, and he and Pintel immediately recoil.

There’s a beat of silence, and then Jack asks, “So? We have another set.”

“No, Cap’n, it’s—the engraved ones are gone.”

Jack looks at them for a moment more, then turns to Shuǐ and Jia. “One of you, take the wheel.”

“Jia, take the wheel,” Shuǐ immediately repeats.

“What? Why me?”

“Because if you’re going to be my first mate, you’ll need to be able to steer a ship. Go on, get up there.”

Jia doesn’t have to steer for long. Barely ten minutes of Shuǐ’s half-decent coaching have passed before Jack comes back up to the deck, muttering under his breath. “Bugger, bugger, bugger–”

She looks at him, then at Jia. “If I were you, I’d go take care of that,” Jia states.

Shuǐ sighs. Gibbs follows from the hatch as she comes down the steps to the deck. “Jack, I’m certain it’s just been misplaced.”

“Mister Gibbs is right. Where did you last see it?” Shuǐ asks, still not entirely clear on what they’re looking for.

“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t pick the locks, I tell other people to pick the locks,” Jack gripes, pacing around the mizzenmast.

“And why are these missing lockpicks worrisome?” Shuǐ mumbles to Gibbs.

He sighs and drops his voice. “Well, this particular set belonged to Jack’s mother. It has her initials carved on the ring. And you know Jack; he doesn’t show it, but they have some meanin’ to him.”

Shuǐ nods and turns back to Jack. She can relate, what with Bo passing on his sword to her. She would be inconsolable if she lost it somehow. “Alright, well, who does pick locks for us most often? They’d be the most likely to have come across them.”

Jack stops dead in his tracks and looks at Gibbs. In unison, they say, “Bootstrap.”

“Ah, that’s right,” Jia chimes in from the helm. “He borrowed yours a few nights before he left to show me the differences in the picks. He must’ve gotten the two sets mixed up. I’m sure we’ll get them back once he rejoins us.”

Jack grimaces, clearly not keen on waiting that long. So, Shuǐ turns to Gibbs. “How far away are we from England?”

“Oh, Miss Shuǐ, you don’t mean–”

“I do, in fact,” she interjects. “Other than outrunning my father, we have no objective at the moment. We’re trying to lose him, anyway. If it’s not terribly dangerous, what better way to do it than sailing into the Royal Navy’s territory?”

Gibbs looks at her for a moment, then sighs again. “I’ll set a course, miss.”

“Thank you, Mister Gibbs.”

As Gibbs heads below deck, Shuǐ glances at Jack, who’s approached her, watching Gibbs leave with a puzzled expression. “See? There’s always a simple solution to these kinds of things.”

“He just took an order from you,” Jack mentions.

“Oh. Yes, I suppose he did.”

“You weren’t even wearing the hat.”

Shuǐ gives him a look. “I don’t need to wear your hat to get people to listen to me, Jack.”

She pulls said hat down in front of his face, then heads for the hatch as well. Once she’s disappeared, Jack readjusts his hat and looks at Jia. She simply shrugs. “Well, you are teaching her to be a captain.”

Once the news gets around the ship, objections are quickly raised. Jack has to call another meeting around the capstan to properly air out the grievances, which Barbossa voices for the crew—and some of them, Shuǐ will admit, are valid. “Bootstrap’s not meant to be affiliatin’ with pirates, anyhow,” he declares. “It’s not like one of us can just drop in unannounced. The waters’ll be crawlin’ with Navy rats. And we won’t get word to him before we reach the coast.”

“But we could disguise ourselves like last time, couldn’t we?” Ragetti asks.

“Well, considering the only man that was good at that is the one we are sailing to, I don’t see that working,” Shuǐ admits.

Barbossa huffs. “Good to see that ye’ve come to yer senses, Miss Sao.”

“That’s why I’ve decided I should be the one to go to port.”

“Oh, of course.”

“Won’t you stand out too much?” Jia questions. “There won’t be as much mixed company as there was at the auction.”

Gibbs nods in agreement. “Aye, and you’ll need a chaperone to get anywhere.”

“Open your minds, will you?” Shuǐ leans forward on the capstan. “I’ll go disguised as a man, obviously. That fixes both problems.”

As she expected, there’s an influx of protest, bits and pieces of how it’s not ladylike and whatnot, and she cuts them off. “You do realize I’ve been wearing trousers the whole time I’ve been on this ship, do you not? You’ve never complained before.”

That quiets them down. “Exactly,” Shuǐ says before turning to Jack. “I say we dock away from the port so as not to be discovered. If you agree, Captain.”

“Well, assuming we have no more volunteers,” Jack muses, and when he turns to the crew, nobody moves, “I don’t see why not. Just one thing, love—your usual wear is not quite as discreet as you may think it is.”

“I know that. But I’ve also seen the state of your wardrobe lately, and believe me, there’s more than enough for me to pull from.”

With that, Shuǐ turns on her heel, the matter finished. Jack starts to dismiss the meeting, only to see Barbossa and Gibbs fixing him with similar looks of disbelief. “What?”

“She’s seen your wardrobe?” Gibbs asks.

“No,” Jack lies. He pauses. “Maybe. Shut it. Go hoist something.”

…

Shuǐ proves her point a few days later when they finally reach the port of Liverpool. While the crew is anchoring the Black Pearl in a concealed cove, she’s rifling through a trunk of clothes in the captain’s quarters. Jack watches her from where he’s leaning against the wall, having invited himself along. “See anything you like?”

“Hard to say. I’m not all that familiar with Western fashion,” she tells him as she finds a white shirt that she thinks will fit. “Where’d you get all of this, anyway?”

“Mm, we ransacked a traveling duke’s boat just before we reached Singapore,” Jack recalls. “Poor bloke. He practically threw it at us.”

Shuǐ snorts and pulls out a faded red waistcoat. It seems like it’ll do, so she dons it. Once she has it buttoned up, she takes Jack’s brown coat from where it’s draped over his chair and shrugs it on. The sleeves are a bit long, but she doubts that’ll cause any reason for suspicion. “How does this look? Manly enough?”

Jack stares at her for a moment, his eyes moving up and down her figure. His head tilts slightly. “Honest?”

“I would hope you’d be,” Shuǐ replies.

“I think you’ve awakened something in me.”

Shuǐ raises an eyebrow as he makes his way to her. “And here I thought you liked me for my feminine charms.”

“Oh, we both know there’s only feminine things under these clothes, love,” Jack teases as he hooks an arm around her waist.

She swats at his shoulder but melts all the same when he kisses her. When Shuǐ draws back, she grins at him. “Think you can hold on to that awakening till I get back?”

“I can always try, can’t I?”

“Good.” Shuǐ reaches up and steals his hat off his head, securing it over her pinned-up hair. “Because the sooner I leave, the sooner I’ll return.”

She kisses him once more before heading for the deck. Gibbs is coming up the ladder when she reaches the taffrail. “Rowboat’s ready to go, Miss Shuǐ.”

“Excellent.” Shuǐ turns to Barbossa, who’d been monitoring things. “I should be back by dawn at the latest. I’m sure I’ll be along sooner than that.”

“And if yer not?” Barbossa asks.

Shuǐ gives him a look. “Let’s hope for the best, why don’t we?”

While she climbs down into the rowboat, Jack surfaces on deck. Barbossa glances at him when he joins him and Gibbs by the taffrail. “You’re lettin’ her do an awful lot of orderin’ around, Jack.”

“Oh, don’t be like that. A captain-in-training has to have some independence,” Jack points out as he watches Shuǐ row toward the port. “Besides, she’s good for it. And she’s getting my stuff back, so why should I stop her?”

Gibbs snorts. “And the truth comes out.”

After less than an hour of rowing, Shuǐ reaches the port. She makes sure the rope holding the boat to the dock is secure, then steps onto the wooden platform, looking around curiously. Compared to the harbors they’d visited on the way to Kiribati, Liverpool is fairly domestic. There’s certainly a bit of trade going on, but it’s not a hub of unsavory activity by any means. It’ll be easier to find Bill in such a condensed area—but it also means she’s going to stand out as a stranger.

Shuǐ drops a shilling on the dockmaster’s podium but only gets a few paces away before she’s being shouted at. “Excuse me! Sir!”

Well, at least she knows the disguise works. Shuǐ turns around to see the dockmaster approaching her with a ledger. “I shall need to know your name for the record, sir.”

“Oh. My apologies,” she replies smoothly. Damn, she hadn’t thought of a name. And she can’t use her own, like last time—it sounds far too foreign. “It’s…Sam Turner. I’m Bill Turner’s brother.”

The dockmaster writes down the phony name, then glances up at her, his eyes narrowing with confusion. “In-law,” Shuǐ adds. “But we’re so close, we refer to each other as brothers.”

“And you have his last name?”

“Yes. Funny coincidence, that. His sister figured it was meant to be. I don’t suppose you know where I could find his residence, do you?”

The dockmaster must decide that he doesn’t get paid enough to question Shuǐ’s suspicious backstory because he nods and closes his ledger. “Go straight down the main street. When you see the chapel, turn left. His home is third on the right.”

Shuǐ tips her hat. “Thank you kindly.”

Once she gets far enough away from the docks, she picks up her speed. She should get to Bill’s place as quickly as possible—before anyone else decides to question her background.

As she makes her way down the wide street, she finds her attention drawn to the activity around her. It’s late in the afternoon, so there are open carts and produce stands on either side of her, advertising groceries and ingredients for dinner. Horses shake their heads and flick their tails as they anticipate their return to the green of the pastures. Young boys and girls chase wooden hoops with sticks as some sort of game. Shuǐ has to dodge quite a few of these and responds to their mothers’ hurried apologies with a polite smile. She can see why Bill would choose to build his life with his family here.

Eventually, she comes to an old chapel. Like the dockmaster directed, she takes a left and finds spaced-out rows of small houses. The third one down on the right has a garden in the front. Shuǐ looks at the lines of flowers as she walks up to the door, then knocks.

There’s no response at first, but just as she raises her hand to knock again, the door swings open. “Halt!” a boy who can’t be any more than nine or ten demands, pointing at her with a wooden sword. “State your business here!”

Shuǐ blinks at him, then looks back to count the houses on the right side of the street. “This is the Turner household, is it not?”

The boy lowers his sword slightly. “Yes, sir, it is.”

“Thank goodness. I’m looking for—well, I imagine he’d be your father. Bill Turner?”

The boy eyes her for a moment more, then shuts the door. Through the wood, Shuǐ can hear him shout, “Mum! There’s a friend of Pa’s at the door!”

She sighs to herself. Bill must not be home from whatever job he has here. It’ll be a bit difficult to explain to his wife who she is and why she’s there, but she supposes she can manage until–

“Shuǐ? Is that you?”

Shuǐ turns around to see Bill standing at the border of the garden, a work bag over his shoulder. She faces him fully and smiles as she takes off Jack’s hat. “And here I thought I’d have to start the fun without you.”

He smiles back, just as the door opens again. A woman with brown hair stands there, wiping her hands on a towel. “I apologize for my son,” she begins, then stops when she sees Shuǐ and Bill standing there.

“Dolly,” Bill greets, “we have a guest who’ll be staying for dinner.”

Dahlia looks at Shuǐ, and a wave of realization washes over her face, replacing the initial confusion. “Ah, you must be the mysterious Sao Shuǐ.”

“And you must be the lovely Dahlia Turner,” Shuǐ replies lightly. “Bill never shuts up about you.”

Dahlia grins. “So I’ve been told. Come in, please.”

The young boy is nowhere to be seen when Shuǐ steps inside—likely sent to his room by his mother. “Will and I have already eaten,” Dahlia tells Bill as she leads him and Shuǐ to a table set with food platters. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“‘Course not. You’ll stay to chat, won’t you?”

Shuǐ sets Jack’s hat on the back of one of the chairs and sheds the coat. “I won’t be able to stay long. I’m not exactly here because I missed you.”

Bill laughs, sitting across from her next to Dahlia. “I figured. Is everything alright on the ship?”

“Well, no. You have Jack’s lockpicks.”

“…Really? The only set I brought home is mine, and it’s in my shop.”

Shuǐ reaches back into a pocket of Jack’s coat, then pulls out a ring of lockpicks she’d gotten from Pintel and brandishes it at Bill. He stares at it before running a hand over his face, sighing. “Oh, Christ.”

Dahlia nudges him disapprovingly. “Sorry, sorry.” Bill turns back to Shuǐ with an apologetic look. “Jack’s not sore with me, is he?”

“As long as I return with the correct set, all will be forgiven,” she assures him. “Where’s your shop? I’ll pop in and search for them on my way back to the docks.”

Bill shakes his head. “Better not. It’s a tight-knit community; our neighbors will raise the alarm if you’re spotted. I’ll escort you there tonight. We can leave after dark.”

Shuǐ gives him a look as she slides a slice of ham onto her plate. “Oh, come on. Do I look like a third-rate crook to you? I won’t be spotted. And if you’re going to escort me there anyway, let’s go sooner so I can get back to the Pearl—I’d be surprised if Barbossa hasn’t already proposed sailing off without me.”

Dahlia turns to Bill and raises her brow at him, as though encouraging him to say something. He stares back at her for a moment, and they seem to have a silent conversation before he turns to Shuǐ again. “Well, you see, the governor has visitors this week. We’re trying to be cautious is all.”

“Oh, William, stop dancing around it,” Dahlia sighs. “Miss Shuǐ, Admiral De Witte is in town. He’s brought his daughter and her betrothed.”

Shuǐ looks at her, her eyes narrowing. “What? When did they arrive?”

“Just about a week ago. Mrs. Nicholson next door says that Miss Desiree’s fiancé is good friends with the governor’s son and wants them to be married at the local cathedral. Apparently, Miss Desiree is rather enamored with the idea—I expect her father is less thrilled about it.”

“They haven’t recognized you,” Shuǐ says suddenly, looking at Bill. Her presence is risk enough, but he actually lives here.

To her relief, Bill shakes his head. “The admiral hasn’t. I get the sense Desiree knows, unfortunately. My business partner has caught her hanging around the shop. Dolly suspects that she’s looking for you.”

Dahlia nods in agreement. “We’re less concerned about her. If the admiral catches you here–”

“He’s the one who shot Jack,” Bill adds. “I recognized him from the auction. He’ll have no patience for you.”

Shuǐ purses her lips with a huff. Just her luck. First her father, then Davy Jones, now this. She’s starting to wonder if somebody up in the heavens—or perhaps down below—has it out for her.

“Then I suppose there’s no helping it,” she states finally. “Mrs. Turner, if you don’t mind him being out so late, could Mr. Turner accompany me to retrieve Jack’s lockpicks?”

Bill gives her a bewildered look. “I already said I would.”

“Yes, I know you’re willing; I was asking what she wants,” Shuǐ retorts before turning back to Dahlia.

Dahlia smiles. “Promise to keep him in line?”

Shuǐ grins back. “I’ll do my very best.”

Chapter Text

Shuǐ and Bill set off two hours after sunset, once the skies have properly darkened and most everyone has retreated to the light of their homes. She waits at the edge of the garden while he kisses Dahlia goodbye with the promise of returning soon. Once they’re walking the streets, Bill asks her, “What happened to your face?”

Shuǐ reaches up to the bruise—it’s not as angry-looking as it was when it was fresh, but the discoloration hasn’t completely disappeared, still an unfortunate shade of yellowish-brown. “Oh. We had a run-in with my father,” she says with an eye roll, pulling Jack’s hat down to shield her face from view. “It’s being handled.”

“Ah, I see. How is Jia?”

“Good. You should see her swordsmanship now. She might actually be able to survive in a fight.”

Bill laughs lightly. “Come off it; she wasn’t that bad before.”

“Look, all I’m saying is I’m less worried about her,” Shuǐ replies.

“What about you and Jack?”

She gives Bill a suspicious glance. “What about me and Jack?”

“Oh—well, are you getting on alright?”

“You could say that. I’m out running his errands, after all. And he promoted me from apprentice to confidante.”

Bill grins knowingly. “Confidante, huh? Don’t think I’ve ever heard of that role.”

“Well, he couldn’t make me first mate,” Shuǐ reasons. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“I could tell you were thinking it.”

They eventually come to a stop in front of a forge. Shuǐ looks around curiously as they walk in, and Bill starts searching for the lockpicks. “I didn’t know you were a blacksmith.”

“Oh, it’s more a hobby than anything,” he admits, rifling around in a pile of tools on one of the desks. “Just something to bring home extra money when I’m not at sea. One moment—here we go.”

Bill pulls a ring of lockpicks out of the pile and holds them out to Shuǐ. She looks them over closer to the lanternlight and spots a pair of initials carved into the ring. “These look like Jack’s, alright,” she says as she gives Bill the set she’d brought from the ship. “That was easy. I don’t know what the crew was getting into a fuss over.”

“This wasn’t off course for you?”

“We don’t have a course. We’re trying to put as much distance between us and my father as we can, but with the Pearl, that’s nothing. And as long as nobody’s detected us, I’d say this was about as easy as these things can be–”

Shuǐ doesn’t get a chance to finish her thought as the doors to the forge swing open and shut. She and Bill whip around to see Desiree standing there in her nightgown and robe. Her contrastingly toned eyes sparkle as she tries to catch her breath. “It is you! I knew it!”

“Oh, damn me,” Shuǐ mutters. She’ll never live this down. “Bill, lovely chatting with you, but I think it’s time I take my leave. Where’s the back door?”

He points to the back of the forge, and she immediately heads toward it. “Wait,” Shuǐ hears Desiree call from behind, “Princess—oh, I guess you’re not a princess, really—Miss Shuǐ–”

“Don’t follow me.”

“But if you could spare–”

Shuǐ draws her sword and turns, pointing it at Desiree. Finally, Desiree stops pursuing her, though she looks more affronted by the blade in her face than frightened. “Go home.”

“Oh, just wait a moment,” Desiree pleads.

Bill clears his throat. “Shuǐ, it might be worth hearing what she has to say.”

“I really don’t have time for it,” Shuǐ counters, but then Desiree says something that catches her completely off-guard: “I know you’re my sister.”

Shuǐ looks at her, her brow furrowing. “I made my mother tell me everything,” Desiree explains. “She was so familiar with you at the auction, and our eyes are so similar, I knew there had to be a connection between us. I couldn’t stop thinking about it all this time. I’ve been hoping to see you again because I’ve realized something—I want to be a pirate, too.”

“Absolutely not,” Shuǐ answers immediately, turning on her heel again. “Good night, Bill.”

She hasn’t put her sword away, so Desiree is either being quite brave or quite stupid when she steps in front of Shuǐ, blocking her path. “Why not? You’re a pirate.”

“Yes, and being a pirate is not for the softhearted.”

“I am not softhearted!”

Shuǐ raises an eyebrow. “You’re riding into your wedding ceremony in a horse-drawn carriage.”

“You pretended to be a princess at the auction,” Desiree shoots back.

“And I hated every moment of it. Get out of my way.”

Finally, Bill steps in, likely hoping to diffuse the situation. “Miss Desiree, we commend your wishes to be a pirate, and we wish you good luck, but this isn’t the way to go about it. Shuǐ can’t help you.”

Desiree looks at him with a pout. “Why not?”

“Well, see, there’s a superstition that women on a ship are bad fortune. I mean, Captain Sparrow was only able to convince our crew to think otherwise because he proposed that the presence of two women—Shuǐ and Jia—would counteract and neutralize the spirit-summoning crystals in their bodies. I expect if a third were to join them, it would send everything into a bit of a spiral.”

Shuǐ slowly turns on Bill. “…What?”

He holds his hands up defensively. “Don’t look at me! I think it’s all nonsense!”

“It is nonsense! Spirit-summoning crystals—that is the most absurd—oh, forget it.” Shuǐ looks at Desiree again. “What he means is you’ll only make trouble for me. You want to be a pirate, by all accounts, do it on someone else’s ship.”

“But–”

“End of discussion. Get out of here.”

Shuǐ tries to move around her, but Desiree holds her ground. “I’ll scream,” she warns. “I’ll scream, and my father will come running, and I’ll tell him you were trying to kidnap me.”

“Really. If I don’t kidnap you, you’re going to scream that I’m kidnapping you. Is that the logic we’re using now?”

Desiree falters just a bit, but she doesn’t budge. “You are the most insufferable little–” Shuǐ hisses before sighing and pinching the bridge of her nose. “Fine. Fine, alright. You want to be a pirate? Let’s get a move on.”

Desiree brightens instantly and makes a mad dash for the back doors. Shuǐ waits until she’s out of earshot, then turns to Bill. “She won’t last a week.”

He grins back. “Guess I’ll see you around.”

“And hopefully not from the gallows.”

When Shuǐ steps out of the forge, Desiree is waiting impatiently for her. “Now that that’s settled, we must go back to the governor’s estate and collect my luggage.”

“No, we’re going to the docks. I promised the crew I’d be back before dawn,” Shuǐ tells her, already heading that way. “Besides, getting within twenty feet of a governor is a death sentence for me.”

“But—I don’t have anything to travel with!”

“Mm. Maybe you should’ve thought of that before you decided to go chasing after me.”

Desiree crosses her arms. “I am not leaving without my clothes.”

“Then go back and get them yourself,” Shuǐ retorts. “I can’t promise I’ll still be at the docks when you return.”

She doesn’t hear anything at first, but then there’s the unmistakable sound of footsteps falling into pace behind her. Shuǐ sighs to herself. This will take a whole lot of explaining to Jack.

When they arrive at the docks, she has to coax Desiree into the battered rowboat. Desiree is still murmuring about the sorry state of it and how it might sink before they get back to the ship as Shuǐ pushes them away from the dock. Once underway, Desiree seems to regain her manners and sits upright, brushing her wavy hair over her shoulder. “Shuǐ–”

“It’s Miss Sao to you,” Shuǐ interjects.

“Oh. Miss Sao, how have you been since the auction?” Desiree asks.

Her wide eyes indicate she’s hoping for tales of valor and adventure. Shuǐ bursts her bubble quite swiftly. “You mean, the auction where your father shot my captain?”

Desiree wilts guiltily. “He’s fine,” Shuǐ adds. “Had to wear a sling for a month and he was moodier than usual. He’s been in decent spirits lately.”

The cool night breeze carries through their silence. After a pause, Desiree begins again, “And what about your suitor?”

If Shuǐ had been steering the boat, as opposed to rowing, she would’ve driven them straight into the rocks. She gives Desiree a puzzled look. “What suitor?”

“You know! The sailor you spoke so highly of at tea,” Desiree recounts with a bright smile. “He must be a pirate too, isn’t he? Have you been able to see him?”

“I don’t see how it’s any of your concern,” Shuǐ responds with a huff as she begins finding her rowing rhythm again.

“Well, sisters talk to each other about these kinds of things.”

Shuǐ doesn’t answer this time, so Desiree decides to change topics. “My Edmund is going to make a wonderful husband. We’ve never fought, not once.”

Shuǐ looks up and raises an eyebrow. “I highly doubt that.”

“There have been a few disagreements about menial things concerning the wedding,” Desiree admits, though she waves her hand as if they don’t count. “But we always agree at the end. And with the way he calls me ‘dearest,’ I can’t stay sour at him.”

“Miss De Witte,” Shuǐ starts abruptly, “I believe I just saw a shark in the distance.”

Desiree turns, wide-eyed as Shuǐ continues, “Perhaps we should stay silent for the rest of the trip to the Pearl so we don’t attract more of them.”

“Oh, alright,” Desiree whispers.

“Starting now.”

Ah, beautiful silence. There isn’t another word between them until they pull up next to the Black Pearl’s starboard side. Desiree’s eyes are wide with approval as she scans the large vessel. “Is this your ship?” she asks Shuǐ, who carefully stands up.

“Only in my dreams,” she states before yelling to the deck. “Whoever’s up there, throw down the lines!”

There’s a beat, and then Shuǐ sees Ragetti lean over the taffrail with a lantern. “Who is it?”

“Sao Shuǐ.”

“You don’t look like Sao Shuǐ.”

“Ragetti. I’m wearing a disguise, remember?”

“…Oh. Right. Who’s the other one?”

Shuǐ looks at Desiree and sighs heavily. “A stowaway.”

Desiree starts to voice her objection to the term “stowaway” but gets no chance before a rope falls right in front of her. As soon as Shuǐ gets them tied properly, she starts up the ladder, beckoning Desiree to follow her. When she gets closer to the deck, Jack appears in the break between taffrails and grins widely at her. “Returning with victory, I hope?”

Shuǐ lets him help her onto the deck, then reaches into the coat pocket and holds up the engraved ring of lockpicks. “You mean this?”

He immediately reaches for them, but she draws back. “First, what do you say?”

“I think gracious actions speak louder than words, love,” Jack starts slyly, his arm draping over Shuǐ’s shoulder as he shifts closer to her, his fingers wiggling as he reaches for the lockpicks again—and then he glances up. “Love.”

She inches closer, breaths away from his lips. “Hm?”

“What is that?”

Shuǐ turns around to see that he’s pointing at Desiree, who is waiting by the taffrail and eyeing the crew nervously. She frowns. “That is a situation.”

“And how are we resolving this situation?” Jack questions under his breath.

“I’ll take care of it.”

“But we had plans.”

Shuǐ turns back to him, her brow furrowed. “Did we?”

“Well, I made plans,” Jack mutters. “Plans that are now being disrupted.”

“Just give me a moment, alright?” Shuǐ hands over the lockpicks, then steps away and clears her throat. “Crew of the Black Pearl, allow me to introduce Desiree De Witte. She’ll be joining us for a short period.”

Several mouths open to raise complaints, but Shuǐ holds a hand up, signaling them to wait. “Miss De Witte, why don’t you go below deck and find Jia in the food locker? I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to see you.”

Desiree brightens, clearly not taking the hint. Once she’s directed to the hatch and disappears from the deck, Shuǐ walks back to Jack and faces the crew with her arms crossed. “Alright then, let’s hear it.”

She gets hit with a lot all at once, so it’s hard to pick out specific protests. But there’s something about food rationing, and another regarding the risk of bringing Desiree along, and then the spirit-summoning nonsense that Bill speculated would cause issues. It all ends with Barbossa griping, “Lass, what in Christ’s name were ye thinkin’?”

Shuǐ gives it a moment, then asks, “Are we finished?”

There’s a bang as the hatch slams open. They all turn to see Jia stepping onto the deck, and she points at the hatch. “What on earth is she doing here?”

“Excellent, now we’ve all gotten a chance to speak,” Shuǐ starts again. “She followed me and said she’d call her father on me if I tried to leave her behind. I didn’t bring her willingly.”

“Can’t we just send her back, then?” Pintel questions. “Her father ain’t here now.”

Shuǐ takes Jack’s hat off. “I already considered that. She wouldn’t know how to get back to the port without an escort. She’d die out here, and then we’d have a worse dilemma on our hands.”

Gibbs clears his throat. “Cap’n, what says you about all this?”

Shuǐ turns to him, equally curious. Jack appears to be pondering the arguments from all sides, and finally, he looks at her. “You’re the one who got dragged into this mess. What do you propose?”

“Miss De Witte will be my responsibility,” Shuǐ declares. “She’s blinded by her romanticized notions of what this life is like. Once we show her how we actually go about things, I imagine she’ll be eager to return to her life of leisure. I give her a week, at most.”

“And if she finds she has a knack for it?” Barbossa interjects.

Shuǐ crosses her arms again. She’s not thrilled by the idea, but she can’t pawn Desiree off to them. “Then she will remain, and once I’ve secured my own ship, she will join my crew. Can we all manage with that arrangement?”

There are murmurs of hesitant agreement from the crew. Shuǐ figures she will be the victim of some merciless taunting for the next few days, but overall, not the worst response she could’ve gotten. “Glad that that’s settled,” Jack starts, heading for his cabin. “Love, if you would. We should discuss this further, captain to confidante.”

That can’t be good. Still, Shuǐ nods to him and looks at Jia. “Sorry to leave her with you.”

“You should be,” Jia retorts, though she rests a hand on her shoulder. “Are you sure about this?”

“Of course not,” Shuǐ scoffs. “Let’s just hope her obstinance wanes.”

Jia grins and nudges her with her shoulder. “If she takes after you, I’d say our chances are weak.”

Shuǐ elbows her back before following after Jack. He supported her in front of the crew, but she’s certain he has his own qualms with this arrangement. It is his ship, after all, and he’s still her captain.

Once the door to the captain’s quarters is closed, Jack turns to face Shuǐ. “This is a terrible idea.”

“I know.”

“Her father is an admiral. We’ll be in the French crosshairs before we make it out of the bay.”

“I know.”

“Avoiding your father is one thing; it’s not going to be easy to outrun enemies from all sides, much less one with the power of a navy behind him.”

“I know.”

Jack stares at her, then throws his hands up. “Then why is she here?”

“Because she followed me to Bill’s, made a fuss, and said she’d scream if I tried to leave,” Shuǐ lists. “I didn’t know what to do. Even if she was bluffing, it would’ve been easy for her to rat Bill out once I’d left–”

“And how is that a concern?”

“Her father is the one who shot at us during the auction. I’m sure he’d be all too happy to clap Bill in irons. I couldn’t do that to Dahlia and the boy.”

Jack grimaces and rolls his shoulder back, as though just mentioning it makes the healed wound ache. “Alright, I’ll take that. But it’s going to take a whole new rationale for me to assure the crew that bad fortune won’t befall us.”

Shuǐ glares at him slightly. “I don’t have spirit-summoning crystals in my body.”

“I know that,” he says, unconvincingly. “I can’t speak for the rest of them. Either way, they’re not going to be as courteous to her as they’ve been to you and Jia.”

“Jack–”

“Not to mention she’s just another mouth to feed. You and Jia had some idea of what you could do when you joined; I doubt Miss Desiree knows North from South.”

“Jack.”

“And don’t get me started on the complaining. It’ll be a wonder to see who lasts longer, us or her.”

Shuǐ gives Jack a look as he continues pacing and rattling off all the reasons having Desiree on the ship is going to be miserable. She wants to tell him that she’s already considered every possible obstacle, but he’s on a roll. Without something to break him out of it, she’ll be here all night. She could try kissing him—that seemed to work the last time. But it’s not a terribly discreet way of ending an argument, and it won’t work forever.

What did Desiree say on the trip over? It was something about not being able to stay mad at her fiancé when he calls her a pet name. Momentarily repulsed by the fact that she feels she has something in common with her half-sister, Shuǐ admits to herself that Jack’s use of it has weakened her resolve at times. Perhaps she should turn the tables.

Shuǐ interjects with the first thing that comes to mind—something she’d read in the (albeit few) books Jack kept in his cabin, a poem that she’d taken a liking to. “Dear heart, will you listen to me for a moment?”

Jack shuts up quicker than she expected, turning to look at her. “I’m not happy she’s here, either,” Shuǐ states. “I’m well aware that she’s going to be difficult and that this won’t end in anything good. But I made the best decision I could backed into a corner, something I’m sure you can relate to. I will handle Desiree. She’s my problem. Can we leave it at that and move on?”

“…What’d you call me?” Jack asks after a moment, a wide grin forming on his face.

Shuǐ gives him a look. Seems her tactic worked—a little too well. “Did you listen to anything that came after that?”

“Say it again.”

“Dear heart.”

Jack saunters over and leans toward her until they’re barely inches apart. “One more time, if you please, love.”

“Isn’t the person doing the convincing also the one typically doing the seducing, dear heart?” Shuǐ retorts, though she doesn’t protest when his hands slip underneath the coat to rest on her waist.

“Oh, since when have we been typical? Besides, I told you, we had plans.”

“You had plans.”

“What’s the difference?”

Shuǐ rolls her eyes, but she’s the one who leans forward to close the distance between them. She has to stop letting him have all these victories. They’re going to go to his head.

No sooner has she found herself up against the cabin wall, though, than there’s a knock at the door. Shuǐ groans against Jack’s lips (not in the way she’d like to) and pulls away, letting the back of her head rest against the wall. “What?”

“It’s me,” comes Jia’s response. “Desiree is asking about bedding.”

Jack must see the flash of exasperation in Shuǐ’s eyes because he kisses her jaw and says, “Before you consider tossing her overboard, might I suggest ransom as a better choice?”

Shuǐ glances at him, her brow raised. “Just giving you options,” he muses as he kisses her neck, showing no signs of stopping for what she has claimed as her problem to handle.

Shuǐ does her best to refrain from snickering and calls back to Jia, “I’ll be there in a moment.”

Jack grumbles but finally draws away. Yet when Jia’s footsteps fade, Shuǐ makes no move to follow her, turning back to Jack. The only warning she gives him is a wicked grin before she dives into him once more.

Desiree can wait.

Chapter Text

“Your first job is to swab the deck.”

Desiree looks at Shuǐ as though she just asked her to strip down and jump overboard. “Pardon?”

“You’re pardoned,” Shuǐ replies before tossing her a rag. “Swab the deck.”

Desiree doesn’t even try to catch it, stepping to the side so it doesn’t touch her clothes—which are actually Jia’s. Shuǐ raises an eyebrow at her, resisting the urge to sigh. She thought she’d been more than accommodating, allowing Desiree to sleep in after last night’s ordeal. But it seems she’s going to be difficult till the very end. “I’m afraid I’ll have to decline,” Desiree says, eyeing the rag like it’s a dead rat.

“That’s not how this works. One of the conditions of your time on this ship is that you do everything I ask of you.”

“I don’t see you swabbing the deck.”

Jia chimes in as she passes behind Shuǐ with a torn sail. “Oh, she did at first, for weeks. But she got too good at it, so they bumped her up to more important tasks.”

Shuǐ nods. “When you join a crew, you can’t just decide what job you want. You have to prove yourself, like everyone who came before you.”

Desiree’s nose scrunches with disgust. “But swabbing the deck doesn’t seem all that…ladylike.”

“Nothing on this ship is ladylike,” Shuǐ states shortly. “If you want ladylike, go back to your prim and proper fiancé. Nobody is keeping you here.”

Desiree stares at her, then reluctantly picks up the soggy rag, holding it as far away from her as she can. As she walks toward the gaggle of other swabbers, Shuǐ finally sighs heavily and reaches up to brush her hair out of her face. When she comes to the helm, Jack holds out a flask of rum. “Need this?”

“Wouldn’t hurt,” Shuǐ responds before taking a swig. “How long till we reach Tortuga?”

“Gibbs says a week and a half, at least. We’ll need to make port before then.”

Shuǐ grumbles and hands the flask back. “Well, if Desiree isn’t sick of us by the time we get there, I’m sure Tortuga will dash her dreams.”

“Y’know, I’m surprised by you,” Jack admits with a slight chuckle. “Figured with your plans for your crew and her being your sister and all, you’d be eager to keep her.”

“Desiree is no more my sister than Lady Isadora De Witte is my mother,” she refutes, watching Desiree step straight into a bucket of water. “Using your words, she is a person I am more or less related to. And she has no idea what any of this actually means to me. She thinks it’s all in good fun.”

Jack hums in reply. “Well, she’s in for a nasty shock, then, isn’t she?”

Shuǐ nods in agreement. After a moment, Jack turns to her again and looks her up and down. “Why are you still in my clothes?”

Shuǐ gives him a confused look, then looks down at what she’s wearing—the same white shirt and trousers from yesterday. “Oh. Well, now that Desiree’s bunking with Jia, I haven’t had time to retrieve my things. Besides, with the heat getting worse, this is much more comfortable. Fewer layers.”

Jack tilts his head toward her. “So, it’s not because you’re cruel and you like driving a man to the brink of insanity?”

“Oh, no, that’s certainly part of it,” Shuǐ tells him with a sly grin. “But it’s mostly the heat.”

She starts down the steps before Jack can get any closer, and he calls after her, “I don’t like you anymore.”

Shuǐ flashes him another smile. “We’ll see how long that lasts.”

…

Desiree keeps to herself for most of the first few days, seeming to have enough sense to know that the rest of the crew isn’t all that keen on her. However, on her third day aboard the ship, she musters the courage to approach Shuǐ during the afternoon break. “Miss Sao.”

Shuǐ shakes some feeling back into her hand before returning to the tattoo she’s working on. “Miss De Witte, I thought you were helping Jia in the hull.”

“I’m finished with that. I’d like you to teach me how to swordfight.”

“Do I look like I’m available for that at the moment? Jia is perfectly capable of putting on a demonstration.”

Desiree fusses with the engagement ring on her finger, eyeing the line of men waiting for tattoos. “Yes, but she said you were more experienced.”

Which is Jia’s polite way of saying, “I’m sick of you; go bother someone else.” Shuǐ purses her lips, but she has subjected Jia to Desiree’s presence an awful lot so far. She deserves a break. “I’m busy,” Shuǐ reiterates. “If it’s that urgent, then go find Captain Sparrow.”

“No,” Desiree says quickly, making a face. “He’s–”

Shuǐ looks up at her, her stern gaze halting whatever words were about to come out of Desiree’s mouth. “He’s what?”

“Peculiar,” she declares after a beat. “And the way he looks at you is less-than-gentlemanly.”

A few men in the line snicker at that, but Shuǐ silences them with the same glare. “Then wait for me to finish here. If you’re lucky enough, I’ll still have time to show you a few things before we go back to work.”

It’s obviously not the outcome that Desiree prefers, but she sits quietly all the same. Shuǐ feels her eyes watching every movement she makes, the swoop of the charcoal lines, the pricking of the needle, and the dusting of the gunpowder. She glances over at one point, holding the needle up. “Want one?”

She takes great joy in Desiree’s scandalized expression. “It looks painful,” she comments, scooting away from Shuǐ. “Why would anyone want to deal with that?”

“Because they’re important to us. And it doesn’t usually hurt,” Shuǐ says as she continues. “As long as a steady hand is doing the work.”

Desiree squints, unconvinced. “Maybe if you’re a man.”

“Well, Miss Shuǐ doesn’t seem to mind,” Ragetti chimes in from the middle of the line.

Desiree looks at him, puzzled. When she turns back to Shuǐ, Shuǐ has rolled her sleeve up to show off her dragon tooth and piece of eight tattoos. “Granted, they’re all convinced that I’m not really a woman, so I don’t know how much weight we should put into that.”

Desiree looks even more scandalized by that. She swiftly stands, then clears her throat politely. “Perhaps I should leave you to it.”

As Desiree sweeps out of the mess, the others turn to look at Shuǐ. She merely shrugs. “Don’t look at me. Here I thought we were finally bonding.”

The “less-than-gentlemanly” remark didn’t strike Shuǐ as a problem at first, but now she notices Desiree’s glances whenever she and Jack interact. The rest of the crew doesn’t raise a fuss when their conversations about daily goings-on become tests of who can get the last teasing word in. Most don’t even bat an eye. They’re used to it at this point. Desiree’s increasingly appalled expressions show that she isn’t.

It doesn’t help that Jack’s been getting bolder, trying to see how much the two of them can get away with before the crew catches on. Between the sneaking kisses when he thinks no one is looking, his casual touches becoming a little too friendly, and, of course, the less-than-gentlemanly gazing, there’s no shortage of things that could set Desiree off.

That’s why Shuǐ isn’t too surprised when Desiree approaches her a day later in the evening. She’s in the middle of nocking her bow when Desiree’s voice comes from behind. “Miss Sao, may I speak with you?”

“About what?” Shuǐ asks before letting the arrow fly. It strikes the middle of the board leaning against the bow.

Desiree waits until Shuǐ turns around, then holds her head high, though her cheeks appear a bit pink. “I don’t mean to overstep, but I want to discuss your exchanges with the captain.”

Oh, here it goes. Shuǐ tries her best to refrain from rolling her eyes. “What about them?”

“Well—and please don’t take this the wrong way—I fear you might be toying with him,” Desiree tells her, as though there’s any other way to take it. “You know his kind. They take whatever they desire. If you don’t want that type of attention, you shouldn’t be giving him so much of yourself. I don’t think your suitor would appreciate it.”

“And what do you mean by that?”

Desiree appears to look her up and down. “Nothing. Just that modesty is its own reward.”

Shuǐ briefly wonders how awful a person she would be to toss Desiree overboard and send her back to Liverpool—without a rowboat. However, as her conscience interjects that it would be fairly horrible of her, she looks up and spots Jack at the helm, none the wiser that he is the subject of the conversation.

Ooh. Better idea. Possibly even worse.

“So, what you’re saying is that if I don’t want Captain Sparrow’s advances, I should change the way I dress and act and whatnot,” Shuǐ muses, turning to Desiree again.

Desiree seems to brighten, relieved that Shuǐ understands her point. “Yes, precisely!”

“Mm. I think there’s been a misunderstanding. Would you follow me for a moment?”

“Oh—sure.”

Shuǐ starts toward the helm, making sure that Desiree is still following her. Jack looks away from the horizon when she steps up next to him. “Love.”

“Jack,” Shuǐ responds casually.

Then she grabs the collar of his coat and kisses him as fervently as she can.

Shuǐ barely registers Desiree’s shocked gasp because Jack melts quickly, not even taking a moment to be surprised by her sudden and forward advance. He takes one hand off the wheel so he can hook his arm around Shuǐ’s waist, pulling her in closer. That move almost has her forgetting Desiree is there—almost. She makes sure to move away before either of them can lose too much of themselves in it, then turns to Desiree (who is staring at them both with her jaw agape) as if nothing had happened at all. “Does that clear things up for you, Miss De Witte?”

Desiree stammers at first, her face completely red, before finally shutting her mouth and turning on her heel. While she’s stomping down below deck, Jack turns to Shuǐ. “Not that I didn’t enjoy that entirely, but what was that about?”

“She was trying to convince me to be more modest.”

“Modest? That little saboteur. Is she trying to ruin my life?”

Shuǐ snorts and kisses him again, lightly this time. “I’m sure she means well. If I were any other woman, I might’ve taken her advice.”

Jack harrumphs. “Let’s thank our lucky stars that you’re not.”

“Well, don’t let me distract you any further,” she says, patting his shoulder. “I’ll get back to target practice.”

“Oh, no you don’t,” Jack scolds jokingly, tugging her back to him as she goes to leave. Shuǐ laughs as her back hits his chest, and he sneaks an arm around her middle to keep her there. “Bold of you to think I’d leave you alone after you went and kissed me like that.”

“Isn’t that half the fun of it?” Shuǐ asks, giggling as Jack’s lips trail down the side of her face and his hand trails up her stomach, dangerously close to the hem of her shirt. “Jack! Save it for the cabin.”

“Call me ‘dear heart’ again and maybe I’ll consider it.”

“Please, that’s clearly a trap.”

Jack picks his head up and rests his chin on her shoulder, pouting at her. “Dear heart,” Shuǐ relents, tilting her head toward his until their foreheads are touching, “if you don’t want the crew getting wind of this, we should save it for later.”

“Says the one who just snogged me in front of her half-sister,” Jack scoffs, but he unwinds his arm from her waist.

Shuǐ turns to face him and takes his hand, kissing it before grinning at him. “So? Who’s going to believe her?”

“Y’know, you can be truly wicked sometimes.”

“I try my best.”

…

The first port they come to is Nassau. It’s almost as perfect as Tortuga for dissuading Desiree’s pursuit of piracy. Though more a place of business than pleasure, it’s dominated by crime lords and unsavory marketers. Unfortunately, that makes it hard for Shuǐ to find a decent pistol. She knows she can’t just borrow Jack’s for the rest of her life, so she figured she’d kill two birds with one stone while they’re docked and gathering supplies.

She, Jia, and Desiree split off from the rest of the group early on. Now, Shuǐ is inspecting her fifth vendor, and she’s still not satisfied. She looks at the seller, brandishing the gun in her hands. “You said this was brand new?”

“Aye, sir,” he answers with a toothless grin. “Fresh off some lubber from Holland.”

Shuǐ hums with feigned interest—she had donned her Liverpool disguise per Jack’s suggestion since very few vendors would be interested in selling guns to a woman. (And not because he likes seeing her in his clothes, that’s preposterous, how could she even consider that?) She sets the pistol down and tips her hat to the seller. “I’ll keep your business in mind.”

“God bless ya, sir.”

As they continue to make their way through the market, Jia hooks her arm with Shuǐ’s. “What was wrong with that one?”

“Not new. The frizzen was worn,” Shuǐ states. “I would’ve had to fix it myself, and for three pounds, I can get one that’s actually in good condition.”

Jia nods, then turns to make sure Desiree is still following them. “So, the plan is to drag her around all day?”

Shuǐ glances back as well. Desiree is trudging along, shrinking away from anyone who passes her, like she’s worried she might catch a disease from their very presence. “She’s the one who begged to come along. I told her there wasn’t any glamour.”

“Well, I think she’s starting to believe you. There’s a vendor over there.”

Shuǐ looks where Jia is pointing. It’s another arms stand; there’s nothing special about it—except for the ivory pistol that’s displayed on one of the walls. Shuǐ’s eyes light up, and she starts dragging Jia over to it. “That’s the one.”

“You said that about the last three stands we saw.”

“Yes, well, I think this time it’s real.”

The seller is polishing a different pistol when Shuǐ steps up, and he doesn’t spare her a glance. “Whaddya want?”

“How much for the ivory pistol?” she asks hopefully.

“Four pounds.”

“I’ll take it.”

“You’re not going to look over it first?” Jia questions, giving her a look.

Shuǐ turns to her. “I’m willing to repair this one.” She pauses, then leans forward to see that Desiree is nowhere to be seen. “Jia. Where is the tag-along?”

Jia jabs her finger behind them. When Shuǐ looks in that direction, she sees Desiree speaking with two men and a younger girl. If she had to guess, she’d say the girl was no more than seven or eight years old. And given her darker complexion and bound hands, Shuǐ is certain that the men are slave traders.

Shuǐ frowns. “What is she doing? Does she want to be kidnapped by people worse than us?”

Jia shrugs. “No survival skills on her, that’s for certain.”

The seller clears his throat. “The payment, please.”

“Oh, right. Here you go.”

Shuǐ hands over the four pounds, and he hands over the pistol. “Pleasure doing business with you,” she says, hanging the pistol on a recently purchased belt hook. “Miss Jia, let’s go save the other one from herself.”

However, just as they start towards the slave traders, Desiree turns and comes back to them, her expression sour. They both keep a safe distance, though Shuǐ holds the slave traders in sight as Desiree approaches. “What was that about?” Jia inquires.

“If you must know,” Desiree begins with a huff, “I was trying to buy that poor girl’s freedom.”

Shuǐ raises her eyebrows, and Jia squints at her, both bewildered to hear those words come out of her mouth. “Really?”

Desiree nods. Then her eyes narrow slightly. “Why do you both look so surprised?”

“You don’t seem the type,” Jia states bluntly before Shuǐ can think to stop her.

“Well, you saw the pitiful look on her face. Little girls shouldn’t be made to do hard labor. That’s a task befitting the adults.”

Jia’s brow furrows, her mouth twisting in a grimace at the insensitive comment. “Do you even have the money for that on you?”

“…No. But I offered them credit and used my family’s name to guarantee they’d get their payment! Can you believe they wouldn’t take that?”

“Oh, you have got to be kidding.”

Shuǐ puts a hand on Jia’s arm, but she knows where the sentiment is coming from. The slave trade has routes through Singapore, and the two of them have seen and heard of enough horrors from that business to last a lifetime. When she looks up to see the girl shuffling along with the slave traders, the obvious tear tracks on her face and the raw marks on her wrists and ankles from the ropes binding her, her jaw tightens.

Jack will understand this one.

“It was a valiant effort, Miss De Witte. But Jia and I know that slave traders don’t listen to reason, and we don’t have enough money between the three of us to convince them,” Shuǐ states. “We’ll have to take a different approach.”

As she speaks, she’s loading her new pistol with gunpowder she’d purchased from another vendor. Jia watches her, then gives her a suspicious look. “Shuǐ, what exactly is this plan of yours?”

Shuǐ spots the slave traders with the girl in the crowd and points the pistol above their heads. “You’ll see. Get ready to run.”

“What?” Desiree blurts out.

There’s no time for further discussion. Shuǐ pulls the hammer back and fires.

Chapter Text

No shot is actually sent, but it creates a deceiving enough BANG. The slave traders, being the closest to the noise, duck and release the ropes they were holding in their panic. Shuǐ immediately dashes toward them, scoops up the girl, and keeps running.

“Hey!” one of the slave traders shouts, but then there’s a grunt, and he falls silent again. Shuǐ isn’t able to look back and make sure Jia and Desiree are following—the girl is writhing in her arms, trying her best to get free now that the opportunity has been presented. Shuǐ bites her tongue as she’s elbowed in the face. She knows it’s not personal. The girl is just scared.

Once they get far enough away from the chaos she caused, Shuǐ ducks into a print shop and hides behind one of the larger shelves of spare parchments. She puts the clawing girl down and grabs her by the shoulders, trying to hold her still. “Hey, hey, it’s alright! I’m not going to hurt you.”

The girl finally freezes, her wide ebony eyes locking with Shuǐ’s. Her dark brown, almost black curls sway around her face as her head turns, frantically looking for her captors or another method of escape. When the door opens again, she and Shuǐ both jump, but it’s only Jia and Desiree, who also duck behind the shelf. “A little more warning would have been nice,” Jia chides. “I was not prepared to kick somebody in the head.”

“At least you made it.” Shuǐ moves to the girl’s other side and takes off her hat. “I’ll go find Jack and explain the situation. Dress her in these so she won’t be recognized.”

As she tosses her coat to Jia, Desiree gives her a bewildered look. “Why are you–”

“Because the two worms will be looking for the man who took her, not the woman,” Shuǐ states as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world. She unpins her hair and shakes it out, letting it fall to its full length down her shoulders. When Shuǐ looks at the girl again, her eyes are wide with amazement, not terror. “I know. I’m good, aren’t I?”

Jia raises an eyebrow. “And what do we think Jack is going to say about this?”

“My endless knowledge of him tells me he’ll be sympathetic,” Shuǐ replies. “Meet me at the Pearl. Try to keep out of sight. Oh, and see if you can get me a set of watercolors while you’re at it.”

“For what?”

“For my new pistol, obviously.”

Shuǐ ducks behind another shelf before Jia can reply. She sneaks out of the print shop and casually walks back out onto the streets. The slave traders are already back on their feet, seething and cursing their luck. They don’t even glance in her direction. From there, Shuǐ breaks out into a run. She doesn’t know where Jack is, and the sooner she finds him, the better. For once, she wishes she had a compass like his.

Her sense of direction proves to be enough. In a less populated area of the market, dedicated to fewer commercial items, he’s walking with Barbossa and brandishing a medium-sized jar. “Jack!” she calls out.

They both turn to Shuǐ as she rushes to them, and Jack grins. “Ah, perfect timing.” He holds out the jar, which is filled with pale liquid. Floating inside is a well-preserved jellyfish corpse. “Love, look at this. Isn’t it something?”

“Not now. We have a situation,” Shuǐ starts—then she pauses, her attention recaptured by the jar. “Is that a spotted jelly?”

Jack shrugs. “I haven’t got a clue. I just thought it looked neat.”

“It’s remarkably intact, for a body with no structure.”

“Isn’t it?”

Barbossa clears his throat, his eyes narrowing at both of them. “Another situation, Miss Sao? What have ye gone and done now?”

“Right, yes, the situation,” Jack repeats as he gives her a similar look. “And where is your hat? My hat, mind you.”

Shuǐ hesitates. She has to approach this carefully. There’s no way to cushion the fact that it was entirely rash on her part. Unlike Desiree, there’s no justification for bringing this girl aboard, no extenuating circumstance or risk that she thinks will matter to the rest of the crew. If she wants to convince Jack and (more importantly) Barbossa, it’d be best to come clean and not prolong the unavoidable backlash.

So, of course, Shuǐ tries to downplay it as much as possible. “Do you remember what you told me about your time with the East India Trading Company?” she asks Jack.

“Yeah.”

“Do you remember how it ended?”

Jack’s brow furrows at her. He tucks the jar under one arm and puts a hand on Shuǐ’s shoulder. “Love. Look me in the eyes and promise me there is not a shipment of slaves waiting for us at the Pearl.”

“Oh, no. It’s only the one.”

Jack gives her a look while Barbossa groans. “Will you two have some sympathy?” Shuǐ scolds, brushing Jack’s hand off. “She’s a child. Barely taller than the capstan. I couldn’t just leave her.”

“So, she can’t do any work,” Barbossa states.

“That’s not why—look, I will entertain grievances for as long as the sun is in the sky. But can we get back to the ship and discuss it there, before the scum that are searching for the girl realize that I look awfully familiar?”

Barbossa grimaces but looks to Jack for his approval. “Alright,” Jack agrees. “Let’s round up the rest of the crew.”

It takes them a bit to find everyone, so Shuǐ isn’t surprised to see Desiree waiting on deck when they finally arrive at the docks. “Miss Jia asked me to keep an eye out for you and those men,” she explains as they step onto the ship.

“Well, good on you,” Shuǐ replies before Barbossa clears his throat. “Miss Sao, you can’t possibly expect us to keep the girl.”

She turns to him, her brow furrowing. “Why not? We kept Miss De Witte.”

As they work on the moorings, Pintel and Ragetti appear to stifle snorts. Barbossa, on the other hand, remains unamused. “Miss De Witte can perform menial tasks, no matter how much she whines about it. Every member of the crew works for their place on the Pearl, as ye well know, and that girl won’t do anything to earn her keep.”

“Which is how it should be,” Shuǐ retorts, and when Barbossa’s glare grows more formidable, “If it’s that much of a concern, I’m sure I can teach her to do some of the simpler jobs.”

“I don’t know, Miss Shuǐ,” Gibbs chimes in as he passes with a few sacks of grains. “We’ve already got three women on the Pearl. Don’t you think that’s testin’ fate enough?”

Shuǐ looks at him and raises an eyebrow. Gibbs clears his throat. “Only sayin’ my piece.”

“Y’know, the poppet might not be happy here,” Pintel adds. “It ain’t the cleanest of places. You set her free; why not let her go be free?”

“What, out there?” Shuǐ asks incredulously, pointing at the town. “Nassau, land of convicts? Brilliant suggestion, Pintel. Why don’t I paint a bright red target on her while I’m at it? She’s staying.”

“I understand how passionately ye feel ‘bout this, Miss Sao,” Barbossa starts again. “But the only one who can decide that is the captain.”

Shuǐ pauses, then turns to Jack, who’s been standing to the side, swirling his new preserved jellyfish in the jar to see it float about. When he looks at her, he straightens his back. “Oh, no. If you think you can bat your pretty eyes at me and get whatever you want, you’re sorely mistaken. Hector’s right: this is my decision and mine alone.”

Shuǐ turns to him fully and crosses her arms, an expectant look on her face.

“The girl stays,” Jack announces.

The rest of the crew starts to groan, and Barbossa gives him a slight glare. “And what could have possibly persuaded ye to that decision, Jack?”

Jack comes to stand next to Shuǐ. “It’s simple, really. Under the impression that Shuǐ will be taking full responsibility for the girl–” he glances at her, and she nods to confirm, “–I think she’s good for it. The other one she’s liable for hasn’t become a problem. Yet.”

The crew murmurs in agreement, but Barbossa is still glowering. “I’ll try to teach her everything I can. She’ll come with me when I’ve got my own ship—you won’t have to deal with her forever,” Shuǐ reasons. “And if she gets into trouble, I’ll…I’ll scrape the barnacles off the hull the next time the need arises.”

It’s an awful job that she knows no one ever wants—it used to be a punishment for her brothers back home, and next to her, Jack winces in a way that makes her think it was the same for him. Barbossa raises his chin slightly. “Both sides?”

Shuǐ nods. “No complaining.”

“Fine. Don’t be surprised when you’re held to that, Miss Sao.”

Shuǐ smiles, just pleased that she’s won the dispute. “Well, if that’s all, I’m off to properly make our newest crew member’s acquaintance,” she states, turning to Jack again. “Unless you need something else from me.”

“Yeah, put this in my cabin while you’re at it,” Jack requests as he hands her the preserved jellyfish. “And whatever you do, don’t let the little lass near the rum.”

She scoffs as she heads below deck. Once the jar is taken care of, Shuǐ backtracks to the food locker and knocks on the door. “How is she?” she asks Jia when she pokes her head out.

Jia makes a face and opens the door fully. There’s no sign of the girl.

Shuǐ looks at her, and Jia sighs, gesturing to a crate that’s clearly been moved, judging by the new scrapes on the floorboards. “I left to put some supplies away and came back to the room like this. She barricaded herself the moment she could,” Jia whispers as Shuǐ approaches the fortified corner. “I’ve tried to get her to come out again, but no such luck.”

Shuǐ frowns. Poor thing. Her means of defense isn’t all that effective, but she doubts that stepping over the crate and invading the girl’s space is going to score them any trust. Staying cooped up here won’t do her any good, either.

“Do you have any of those rolls from breakfast left?” she asks Jia.

Shuǐ truly does have the best of friends—the words are barely out of her mouth before Jia heads for the galley. She returns a bit later with two bread rolls spread with a fresh jam she’d picked up from the market. “It should make up for their dryness.”

Shuǐ nods and places the rolls on the edge of the crate, just in view. “Get the salve you bought today, too.”

They settle in for what seems like a waiting game, but it doesn’t take long for a hand to snatch up the first bread roll. After grabbing the second one, the girl cautiously raises her head, her gaze flickering from Jia to Shuǐ. “Can you understand us?” Shuǐ inquires.

The girl hesitates, then jerks her head in a nod. “May we see your wrists? We can get rid of those nasty marks.”

The girl eyes her warily, but slowly stands, putting out the hand that’s not holding the bread roll. Jia swipes some salve from the jar she bought at the market and reaches for the girl’s wrist. Though she flinches at first, once the salve is on the angry circles of raw skin, Shuǐ sees her shoulders relax considerably. “What’s your name?”

“Nerida,” the girl mumbles before taking another bite of the roll.

“Nerida,” Jia echoes with a smile. “My name is Liang Jia, and this is my friend, Sao Shuǐ.”

Shuǐ raises an eyebrow at her. “You don’t have to be so formal about it.” She turns back to the girl. “Where are you from?”

Nerida doesn’t answer, but her unsure expression says enough. “Do you know where your parents are?” Jia questions.

Nerida stops chewing, her face twisting in a grimace—an expression not fit for a child of her age. Shuǐ and Jia share a glance. They both know what that expression means.

Shuǐ clears her throat. “Well, if it’s alright with you, our captain is more than happy to have you aboard the ship. But if there’s somewhere you’d like to go instead, I’m sure we can take you there.”

Nerida doesn’t answer at first. After a moment, she gives Jia her other wrist and continues eating. “Can I get more food like this?”

“I think that can be arranged,” Jia tells her, grinning at Shuǐ. “I am the cook, after all.”

“The greatest pirate cook to ever live,” Shuǐ agrees.

…

The whole thing gives Shuǐ an excellent excuse to finish moving all her things to the captain’s quarters, which Jack had so generously offered to share with the food locker growing considerably crowded. As far as the crew knows, there’s now a practical reason for her always being in there. That’s where she’s busily painting designs on her new ivory pistol when Jia sticks her head through the doorway. “Dolphins on the port side. Get up there quick; they’ll be gone any minute.”

Shuǐ doesn’t waste a moment, dashing up to the deck and making a beeline for the taffrail. Sure enough, a pod of dolphins is leaping through the wake of the rudder. She smiles and leans over the rail, happy enough to watch them until they lose interest. Then she realizes that she’s not the only one enraptured by them.

Jia has done a good job of freshening Nerida up since Shuǐ saw her the day prior. It appears that her formal robes have become a casualty in replacing Nerida’s rags (not a major loss by any means), as she’s now wearing an altered form of Shuǐ’s hanfu. Her ringlets of hair have been masterfully detangled and are pulled back in a ponytail. This is the first time Shuǐ’s seen her on deck. She’s craning her head to look over the taffrail, but even on her tiptoes, she’s not tall enough to comfortably lean on it like Shuǐ is.

Nerida eventually realizes that Shuǐ is watching her and shrinks away from the taffrail. “Do you want some help?” Shuǐ asks before she gets too far.

Nerida glances over, and Shuǐ doesn’t think she’ll accept the offer at first. But slowly, Nerida turns to her and stiffly nods. Shuǐ lets Nerida approach her, then picks her up and sets her on the taffrail, one hand around her back so she’s secure. “There we go. That’s much better, isn’t it?”

Nerida keeps a firm grip on Shuǐ’s collar, but her eyes widen with astonishment as she gets a good view of the dolphins, who thankfully haven’t turned away yet. After a few minutes, her tension eases. Shuǐ keeps her up there, letting them sit in silence until the dolphins dip back below the waves and Barbossa shouts, “Clear the braces! Miss Sao, that means ye!” as the ship turns into the wind.

Shuǐ sets Nerida down and pats her on the back. “You heard the man. Think you can move those old buckets out of the way?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

While Nerida weaves between the crew to complete her task, Shuǐ crosses her arms, a contented smile tugging at her lips. She quickly realizes she has eyes on her, though, and looks to the helm. Jack has the strangest grin on his face as he stares back at her, and he raises his brow.

“Don’t get any ideas,” Shuǐ retorts as she makes her way to the mizzenmast.

After the fact, Nerida becomes more inclined to show her face on the deck, rather than stay hidden away. Most of the time, she sits away from the action and watches the crew run to and from one mast to the next. Shuǐ doesn’t mind as she always has a menial task for Nerida to keep her busy. Barbossa is less pleased, and he harrumphs to Shuǐ while she’s bringing the jib in a couple of days later, “Someone’s goin’ to trip over the little imp at this rate.”

“Maybe Ragetti,” Shuǐ muses as she glances at Nerida, who’s currently sitting on the deck with one of Shuǐ’s spare sketchbooks and the watercolors. “Everyone else’s vision is fairly intact, though, so I’d say they’re safe.”

He grunts in disagreement. She half-turns to give him a look. “I don’t see what you’re so curmudgeonly about. Nerida is staying out of the way, just like you wanted her to. That’s more than we can say about her.”

Shuǐ jerks her head toward Desiree, watching as Jia tries her best to get her untangled from a sail they were trying to replace. “They’re equally useless,” Barbossa counters. “But Miss De Witte can work, in some capacity. Unless Miss Nerida suddenly develops a suitable talent that could help around the ship–”

Desiree shrieks, cutting through his remark. Shuǐ and Barbossa turn just as she screams again, “Rat! There’s a rat!”

“Well, don’t just stand there, ye worthless sluggards!” Barbossa snaps at the crew as a grey blur races out across the deck. “Catch that rat!”

The crew appears to be doing the opposite, moving as far away from the rat as possible. But just as Shuǐ rolls her eyes and starts to hand the jib’s halyard to Barbossa, Nerida jumps off the crate and goes chasing after it. She dodges between the men and the masts and the rigging until she finally lunges forward and clasps her hands around the doomed rodent. “Got it!”

Shuǐ watches, impressed, as Nerida trots over to her and brandishes the wriggling rat. “What do I do with it?” she asks.

“Oh, I’ll take him. We’re going to send him on vacation,” Shuǐ bluffs. “That was an excellent show. Why don’t you go get a snack from the galley as a reward?”

Nerida gives her the smallest smile—the first smile she’s seen on the girl’s face so far. As Nerida retreats to the hatch, Shuǐ turns to Barbossa with a smug grin, only to see that he’s already walked away.

Well, at least he knows when to accept defeat.

…

Jack hasn’t quite decided how to feel about their newest crew member. His only experience with children has been with his own kid cousins, and they’re terrors, no doubt a result of a shoddy environment and even shoddier parenting. Nerida, on the other hand, is calm and keeps to herself, though she’s more outspoken whenever she’s talking to Shuǐ or Jia.

Watching Shuǐ with her is entertaining, at the least. She’s taken a gentler approach to their interactions than her exchanges with Desiree. When Nerida has a question about the ship or the crew or the sea and sky or whatnot (and she has a lot of them), Shuǐ always answers her with patience. It’s impressive that she can so tolerantly withstand all the questioning and challenges while she’s working, as good-natured as it might be.

And, as he sees Nerida surface on the deck and bolt for the helm, he realizes it’s something he’s entirely unequipped to handle.

Nightfall has just set in—he’s supposed to be handing the wheel off to Gibbs at any moment. He wishes that moment would come sooner as Nerida ducks down in front of the wheel. Jack scans the deck, hoping that any moment Shuǐ or Jia will follow behind and rescue him from this. When neither of them does, he supposes he has no choice. “Oi, bug.”

Nerida looks at Jack and gestures for him to be quiet. “What’re you doing up here?” he asks, dropping his volume slightly.

“Miss Shuǐ’s trying to put me to bed,” Nerida answers, turning so she doesn’t have to crane her head so much to look at him.

“Yeah? What of it?”

Nerida looks at him as though the reason is obvious. “I don’t want to go to bed.”

“Ah, I see,” Jack says. “But, y’know, bugs like you shouldn’t stay up so late.”

Nerida purses her lips. “That’s what Miss Shuǐ said.”

“Can’t say I disagree. Lots of nasty things come out in the night.”

For a moment, Nerida doesn’t reply. Then, she shifts around so she’s fully facing Jack, propping her chin in her hands as she looks at him with intrigue. “Like what?”

Briefly surprised by the interest, Jack shrugs. “Giant squids. Ships that disappear into thin air. Mermaids.”

“What’s wrong with mermaids?”

“Too many things to name. And don’t get me started on the ghosts.”

Nerida lights up at that. “You’ve seen a ghost?”

“Aye,” Jack replies. “I once came upon a vessel anchored in the middle of the sea, bursting with music and laughter. Now, this lot, they love a good party, so we decided to join in on the fun. We boarded the ship, bid hello to the helmsman, headed below deck—and what did we find?”

Nerida leans forward, her eyes wide with anticipation. “It was dead empty. Not a soul to be seen. But the music was still playing, and the laughter was still filling the room,” he continues. “At that point, the others had already made a run for it, and I was ready to join them. I looked back at the helm right before we abandoned ship, and–”

“The helmsman wasn’t there?” Nerida questions excitedly.

Jack grins back, waving his hand mysteriously. “I just barely caught sight of him turning into a vapor.”

They’re interrupted by slow applause from the deck. Jack turns to see Shuǐ standing at the bottom of the steps, and she crosses her arms once he spots her. “Riveting, Captain. Positively riveting.”

“It is a good one, isn’t it?”

Shuǐ gives him a stern look, but she can’t mask her smile as she turns to Nerida. “Alright, you’ve had a bedtime story. Go down to Jia.”

“Have you ever seen a ghost, Miss Shuǐ?” Nerida asks as she trots down the stairs.

“Only in my dreams,” she responds, gently guiding her to the hatch.

“I’d like to see a ghost one day.”

“Well, you’ll be one here soon if you don’t get to bed. Go on, now.”

Once Nerida is gone, Shuǐ comes to stand next to Jack. “You know, she’s not all that bad,” he admits.

Shuǐ playfully bats at his shoulder. “You just like the attention. You’re going to give her nightmares.”

“Oh, on the contrary. She seemed rather enthralled by it all.”

Shuǐ snorts and rests her head on his shoulder. It only takes a moment for Jack to switch their places, offering her the wheel and wrapping his arms around her waist once she’s settled. When Shuǐ feels the coarseness of his unshaven cheek against her own, she turns and pecks the side of his face. “Well, I suppose I can put up with ghost stories. As long as it means you two are getting along.”

“Like peas in a pod,” Jack agrees before kissing her properly.

Chapter Text

The sun wakes Shuǐ first, but she doesn’t stir until she feels Jack’s hand brush against her face, moving her hair behind her ear. She smiles against his shoulder, warmed by the light coming through the window and his body beneath her. Her fingers trace his collarbone, moving to the fading scar on his other shoulder. “Morning,” she murmurs before picking her head up to look at him.

Jack’s eyes are still closed, and he makes a face when she moves. “Is it?”

Shuǐ shrugs and looks at the sunbeams streaming into the cabin. “I’d hope so. Otherwise, there’s something very wrong with the moon.”

“Let’s say that,” Jack grumbles as he puts his arm over his face. “Go back to sleep.”

“You’re the one who woke me.”

Jack doesn’t respond, except for a small hum of acknowledgment. Shuǐ smiles slightly. She does hate to disturb him when it’s one of the few moments of tranquility they get, and one of the few where she can fully admire him. But still, there are things to be done.

She pushes herself up so she’s hovering over him. His brow furrows as her weight shifts, but he says nothing. Shuǐ leans down to kiss the corner of his mouth, then the shell of his ear. “Dear heart, your crew is waiting for you.”

“Until I get up, they’re Hector’s crew,” Jack refutes, though he moves his arm slightly so she can kiss more of his face.

“Well, you can sleep the day away if you want, but I’m getting up,” Shuǐ tells him, but the words are barely out of her mouth before he brings his other hand around her back and shoves her down, keeping her where she is. “Jack!”

Jack sits up on his elbow, narrowing his eyes slightly. “You won’t let me sleep, then you try to leave me—honestly, you’re the cruelest lover there ever was.”

Shuǐ gives him a look back, then relents with a grin. “Oh, what’s a few more minutes?”

“Glad you’ve come to your senses,” Jack replies before kissing her slowly and laying them back down.

Shuǐ pulls herself onto him slightly, nestling her head in the crook of his neck. There are a few moments of blissful silence as she revels in the feeling of him breathing under her, their chests rising and falling together, his hand tracing invisible patterns on her bare back—and then there’s a knock at the door.

Neither of them answers, though Shuǐ feels Jack grimace against the side of her head. There’s a brief pause, and then another round of knocking. “For God’s sake, go away,” Jack mutters, just loud enough for whoever’s outside to hear.

“Cap’n, we’ve docked,” comes Gibbs’s reply.

Jack doesn’t say anything, burying his face into Shuǐ’s hair—and then he abruptly sits up, taking her with him (to which she groans in protest). “Where’ve we docked again?”

“Tortuga, Cap’n.”

“Tortuga,” Jack repeats, a grin slowly spreading across his face. “Noted. We’ll be up in a moment.”

Shuǐ pouts slightly. “What happened to sleep?”

“We can sleep any old time. C’mon, up you get.”

After a bit more grumbling and some much-needed breakfast, the two of them surface on the deck. Shuǐ looks out over the grimy, well-worn buildings and listens to the shouting of obscenities on the streets. “It doesn’t look as glorious in the daylight,” Jack notes, his arm coming to rest around her shoulders, “but once the nightlife begins, now, that’s a sight to behold.”

Nerida wiggles her way between them and stands on her toes to see more of the derelict port. “Why are we here again?”

“We need to finish pawning off some of our more luxurious bounty, and Tortuga has the best black market this side of England,” Jack explains. “Mostly for pleasure, though. It’s the safest place—besides Shipwreck Cove—for us to let loose. After all, it’s–”

There’s a sharp boom as the wall of a smaller tavern near the docks explodes. Desiree yelps and ducks while Jack clears his throat. “Well, it’s full of pirates.”

Nerida, however, seems completely unfazed. She grins at the sight of the unfolding chaos, almost excited. “Neat.”

“You’re staying on the ship,” Shuǐ tells her quickly.

“Aw, what? Why?”

“The same reason Miss De Witte is staying on the ship. This is no place for girls to be wandering about without some form of protection. Once you know how to stab somebody, we’ll talk.”

Desiree gives her a sullen look. “I can handle myself just fine, thank you very much.”

Shuǐ raises a brow at her as a second explosion blows the door off another building. Desiree ducks again, then backs away. “Though there’s something to be said about prioritizing one’s comfort.”

“Trust me, you two will have as much fun with Jia as the rest of us will have out there,” Shuǐ assures Nerida, who still doesn’t look all that pleased. “Likely more, since you won’t have to deal with unwanted attention.”

“About that,” Jia interjects, “I’ve already been designated for picking up more materials at the market. You’ll have to stay behind.”

“Oh, what?”

“It’s only until I’m done shopping! Besides, you’ll have as much fun here as I’m having out there.”

Shuǐ frowns at having her words used against her, but sighs. “Fine. I suppose I can live with that.”

With that, the rest of the crew starts to mill about, preparing the Black Pearl for her time in port. Jack leans over to Shuǐ and murmurs, “Feeling left out, are we?”

She lightly pushes his face away as he chuckles.

…

As Jack predicted, most of the crew decided to partake in Tortuga’s nightlife. By the time the sun sets, Shuǐ, Desiree, and Nerida are the only ones left on the Black Pearl. Shuǐ is finishing up readjusting some of the sails—a breeze has started to pick up, and it’s causing the ship to rock—as Desiree comes up from the hold. Shuǐ looks over at her as she finishes raising the last sail. “Did Nerida get to sleep alright?”

“She did,” Desiree answers.

“Excellent. You can join her if you’d like. There’s not much for us to do until Jia gets back.”

Desiree doesn’t reply. When Shuǐ turns to look at her, she notices that her face is twisted in a sulk again. “What are you sore at now?” Shuǐ asks. “I can assure you that the type of entertainment they’re finding out there would have you clutching your pearls. You’re not missing out on anything.”

“I don’t understand you,” Desiree interjects. “All of this is so different from what I expected. I thought that if you found joy in it, there must be something more to piracy than the awful work and the unvirtuous activity. But there’s not.”

Ah, finally, she’s coming to her senses. It’s about time. Shuǐ takes her chance to solidify the sentiment and shrugs. “Well, we are two very different people who have led very different lives. Some of the things I’m fit for, you are not. There’s no shame in admitting it. Luckily for you, Tortuga has more than enough ships and captains willing to grant you passage back to England or France, or wherever you wish to go.”

Desiree turns to follow Shuǐ as she heads for the helm. “And that’s the other thing! Why are you so eager to be rid of me?”

Shuǐ looks at her, her brow furrowing. “Nerida is a stranger who’s been on this ship for mere days, and she already has your favor,” Desiree points out. “I’m your sister. But you barely say a word to me that isn’t a command!”

“Oh. My apologies. I thought it was clear that I don’t want you here.”

Desiree looks taken aback at the statement. And, yes, Shuǐ will admit that it’s harsh. But she’s tired of entertaining Desiree’s fantasies of sisterhood. She’s had her romp. Now it’s time to be brought back to reality.

“What do you mean?” Desiree asks slowly.

“Desiree, all you have done since you stepped foot on the Pearl is complain, mope, and belittle me and this crew,” Shuǐ states, turning to face her fully. “Even before that, when you barged into Bill’s place, you compromised his safety and mine for your own desires. Not to mention the threats. What do you think would have happened to us if you had called for your father?”

She opens her mouth to answer, then falters, and Shuǐ watches her eyes widen as it hits her. “Precisely. That’s the problem with you, Desiree. You don’t think about anything but yourself. You invited yourself along with no regard for how it would impact my crew’s safety. I assume you didn’t leave your family a letter explaining things, so they’re probably sick with worry. You keep bragging about how amazing your fiancé is—who knows if you even have a fiancé to go back to?”

Desiree’s head snaps up. “Edmund would never.”

“Then his poor heart must be breaking, thinking that you’ve been taken, or worse,” Shuǐ retorts. “I could see through you the moment you said you wanted what I had. There was no real conviction in it. You’re getting cold feet.”

“I am not!”

“There’s no reason to be embarrassed. Some of us aren’t fit for this sort of thing. You can find freedom in other ways. But if you’re not brave enough to swallow your pride and admit what you want, I’m afraid you’re in for a rough go of it.”

Desiree glares at her. “Maybe I just wanted to know who my sister was. Did you consider that in your calculations?”

“Sure, I did. But I knew—and you’ve proven it rather beautifully—that you wouldn’t like me,” Shuǐ continues. “Really, Desiree. Say one nice thing about me and I’ll drop it.”

Desiree stays quiet. Shuǐ turns to start up the steps to the helm again. “I’ll ask Captain Sparrow to make arrangements for your voyage back to England.”

“Come with me,” Desiree blurts out.

Shuǐ responds just as swiftly. “No.”

Desiree doesn’t relent, following her up to the helm. “You can see Maman again.”

“Not interested.”

“Shuǐ, you don’t need all of this! I’m sure Papa could manage to get you a pardon. You could come to France—we could be a family!”

“What makes you think I want to be a part of your family?” Shuǐ retorts, turning to face her again. “Your mother pretended I didn’t exist the moment I was old enough to be left alone. Your father shot my love.”

Desiree takes her hands. “We can move past that. All will be forgiven. I’m sure they’ll welcome you with open arms if you show them you can change.”

Shuǐ rips herself away from Desiree’s grasp. “You’re more delusional than I thought. Your parents will want nothing to do with me—your father especially. They’ll have me hanged if I ever show my face around them again. My place is on this ship. The closest thing I have to family is Jia and this crew. Nothing is taking me away from them, much less you.”

“But why?” Desiree asks, growing exasperated as Shuǐ turns her back. Her nails dig into her palms as Desiree continues to hound her. “Why settle for this…this life of treachery, and peril, and suffering, and–”

“Because it is my birthright!” Shuǐ snaps as she faces her. “Whether Sao Feng likes it or not, I am his daughter. I am every bit as vicious as he is. Maybe more so. Pirate is in my blood. The sea is in my veins. I have fought for the right to sail and struggle and live since the day I first set eyes on that horizon. And I will not let someone who has never fought for anything in her life lecture me about what I should do with mine!”

Desiree draws back, hitting the taffrail as she does. Shuǐ hadn’t realized she was advancing on her so fiercely. She can feel her heart pounding in her throat, and she clears it, trying to bring herself down. “Answer me this, Desiree. Was there ever something you wanted—so badly that you thought you might die without it—that your parents forbade you from having?”

She stares at Shuǐ for a moment, then meekly lowers her head, her answer leaving her in a frail whisper. “No.”

“Then you were lucky to be so loved,” Shuǐ states bitterly.

There’s a clattering of wood, and it startles them both. Shuǐ turns to see Jia coming up the gangway with their supplies. “A little help would be appreciated.”

“Desiree will help you,” Shuǐ says quickly, coming down to the deck and collecting her sword and pistol. “I’m going to find Jack. I need a drink.”

“What’s wrong?” Jia questions, immediately clocking her foul mood.

Shuǐ jerks her head back toward Desiree. “Ask her.”

She keeps her brisk pace until the Black Pearl is out of view, then slows ever so slightly. Her heart is still knocking against her ribcage. Her face is still twisted in a grim scowl. Only once she turns down a quieter alley does she realize she’s grinding her teeth.

Shuǐ unclenches her jaw, slowly exhaling. How many people does she need to snap at before the message is received? All the talk of family—family this, family that. Family has never done her any good before. It’s not going to start now.

The nerve of it all still has anger burning a hole in her chest. She almost wants someone to start a fight with her, just so all this vitriol has somewhere to go.

Her wish is granted when a hand seizes the back of her top.

Shuǐ immediately goes for her pistol and pivots, hitting her assailant with the butt of it. The cracking of his jawbone has hardly filled her ears when another attacker comes at her from the side. She manages to ward him off with the pistol, but then a third appears on her right, and she can only keep the distance between them with her sword. She knows she doesn’t have the upper hand at the moment—her standing opponents are still advancing, forcing her back. As much as she’d prefer to handle this by herself, she starts to yell for Jack.

Then someone from behind covers her mouth with a rag, and when she gasps for breath, she smells eucalyptus.

The last thought that drifts through her mind?

Fuck.

Chapter Text

Jack has been watching the door to the tavern since they sat down for their game of whist. He purposefully chose the seat facing the entrance so he could wave Shuǐ over to their table when she arrived. Given how efficient Jia usually is with her shopping, he expects her to step in to join them any moment now. But Shuǐ is nowhere to be seen, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a tad bored without her.

And unsettled.

“Cap’n, are you gonna join in on this round?” Gibbs asks as he ushers a hefty pile of shillings toward himself. “I’m happy with my profit.”

Jack shakes his head, his gaze still locked on the door. “What d’you reckon is keeping her?”

To his left, Barbossa rolls his eyes. Gibbs, on the other hand, humors him. “Well, it’s possible that Miss Jia got a bit distracted at the market. Tortuga has a fair number of jewelry traders.”

“Miss Shuǐ might’ve decided she wanted a night in with the other ladies,” Ragetti adds.

Jack frowns. “After all that sulking about this morning? I doubt it. Besides, she wouldn’t willingly spend more time with Miss De Witte than she had to.”

Pintel looks up from his cards and shrugs. “Maybe the poppet is still on her rebellious streak. For all we know, they’re runnin’ around right now tryin’ to put her down for the night.”

Jack looks even less convinced by that, and the drumming of his fingers against the table proves it. “Ah, don’t waste yer breath on him,” Barbossa remarks as he restarts the bidding. “Jack won’t be settled until his lady love shows her face and tells him what’s what.”

That gets Jack’s head to jerk away from the door. “What’s that s’posed to mean?”

The other three men glance from him to Barbossa, their eyes wide, waiting for the next move. “For the love of God, Jack, don’t play a fool. In this instance, it doesn’t suit ye,” Barbossa states. “We all know yer smitten with Miss Sao.”

Jack blinks. Then he sticks his nose up, as though it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard and certainly not a thought he’s had himself. He has to at least try and keep up appearances. “Smitten, am I? Don’t be absurd. At most, I think she’s pleasant.”

“Aye? If you’re so certain, why don’t we open this discussion to the rest of the crew?” Barbossa turns to the other three. “What d’ye lot think? Is the captain smitten or not?”

Pintel and Ragetti glance uncertainly at each other while Gibbs sets his cards down. “I mean, you did bring her aboard when she had no proven skill, Cap’n.”

“Because we needed the extra hands and she was nicer to look at than the rest of you,” Jack refutes. “That doesn’t mean I wanted to court her.”

“Who said anything about courtin’ her?” Barbossa asks with a sly grin.

“I think there’s somethin’ to be said about the way you look at her,” Pintel muses.

Jack scoffs. “I look at lots of people.”

“Not the way you look at her,” Gibbs points out. “And what about all the captaining lessons?”

“I was coerced into those.”

“The tattoo?”

“I lost a bet.”

“Callin’ her ‘love?’”

“I only did that because I couldn’t pronounce her name. Not my fault she likes it.”

“How about all those spats with Bootstrap?”

“I was helping him not to stray from the path of virtue.”

“You got shot for her, Jack!”

“Well, it’d be a pity if such a perfect figure were marred.”

“I saw ‘em kissing the other day,” Ragetti blurts out.

The others slowly turn to him, and Jack raises his brows. “Not on purpose,” he says quickly. “I was working. It was just a smooch. And they were on deck.”

Barbossa’s head snaps toward Jack, his eyes narrowed. “That means nothing,” Jack retorts.

“Sure it does, Jack.”

“Look, whatever’s going on between Shuǐ and me, it’s between Shuǐ and me,” Jack declares. “If we wanted the rest of the crew to meddle in it, we would’ve made it known already. And given how nosy you’re all being, I can tell you that it won’t be happening anytime soon.”

Barbossa chuckles, but he gets no chance to reply. The door to the tavern opens, and Jack straightens up in his seat, grateful for the interruption. “Well, speak of the devil.”

But it’s not Shuǐ who steps through the doors.

The unsettled feeling in Jack’s gut returns with full force when he sees Sao Feng enter the tavern. “Speak of the actual devil,” he mutters as he stands. “That’s Shuǐ’s father.”

“How on God’s green earth did he find us here?” Gibbs wonders aloud, standing as well.

“No time for that. Get to the Pearl. Collect as many of our men as you can on the way.”

Gibbs nods and gestures for Pintel and Ragetti to join him. Barbossa stays, however, slowly drinking from his tankard as Sao approaches them. The sinking feeling worsens when Jack notices he’s alone. “Captain Sparrow. How curious to find you here,” Sao greets.

“Not as curious as finding you here,” Jack responds coolly. “Y’know, with the title Pirate Lord of Singapore, I’d expect you to stay within your bounds. What’re you doing on this side of the world, all by your lonesome?”

Sao’s polite façade drops. “Tell me where she is.”

“She doesn’t want to see you, mate. I don’t blame her. First time your pop hits you, shame on you, right? The second, fourth, sixth time—well, I don’t know how often it happened to her, but more than a few seems fair considering her reaction—shame on him.” Jack nods toward the door. “If I were you, I’d cut my losses and git.”

“She has a husband waiting for her at home.”

“Funny, she never mentioned a husband to me. Did she mention a husband to you, Hector?”

Barbossa shakes his head. “Not once.”

“Sounds like she isn’t that keen on the bloke,” Jack states, turning back to Sao. “Break the news to him gently, will you?”

Sao glares at him. But then he clears his throat and his face relaxes, as though he’s about to try a new approach. “You’re so accusatory, Captain Sparrow. All I’m trying to do is take her off your hands.”

Jack raises an eyebrow. “My daughter is constantly looking for something new to entertain her. She’s never been satisfied with anything in her life,” Sao explains. “Her being on your ship proves it. She may play nice with you and your crew for now. But soon enough, she will tire of you and set her sights on the next great distraction. I know that in the end, she will return to Singapore to fulfill her duties as a wife and mother. I’m merely trying to speed up the process. It would be incredibly helpful if you could cooperate.”

“Hm. See, that whole speech just tells me why you’ve failed as a father.”

Sao’s eyes narrow as Jack goes on. “First off, you’ve failed to consider that her lack of satisfaction with life is because you’ve orchestrated her existence in Singapore to be as miserable as possible. Secondly, you’ve known your daughter for her entire life, and I’ve never heard a more absurd mischaracterization of her. I’ve only known her for, well, call it six months or so, and I know her front to back. I could tell you anything about her if you asked me. Go on, ask.”

Sao’s face twists in a scowl again. “I do wish I could be telling you this under different circumstances,” Jack says, leaning across the table. “Sao Shuǐ is the most remarkable person I’ve ever met. She’s got twice the chops of you, or any man on your crew—or any man on my crew. She’ll make an excellent captain one day. Greater than you, perhaps.” Jack pauses, then smirks. “And I know for a fact that she’ll look a hell of a lot better doing it.”

Sao seizes the collar of Jack’s coat. Barbossa stands abruptly, his hand shooting out to clutch Sao’s arm. “Let’s not make any brash moves, gentlemen. The Code and all.”

Sao’s jaw tightens, but Jack stays as casually uninterested as he can. For once, he’s glad he’s his father’s son—Sao won’t be stupid enough to cross the Keeper of the Code, especially after their last run-in. For now, Jack has the upper hand.

Sao must realize that as well because he releases Jack and backs away with a curt nod. “I am sorry that we could not come to an agreement.”

“I’m not,” Jack says shortly.

He gives it a few moments once Sao has left, then makes a beeline for the back door. “Jack, what exactly is our plan?” Barbossa asks as he follows behind him.

“Get to the Pearl, ensure that everyone is safe, fight off whomever we have to, and sail as far away from that louse as possible. Again.”

“And if everyone isn’t safe?”

Jack turns to Barbossa and grimaces. “Don’t put that thought into my head.”

The trek back to the Black Pearl feels like it takes a lifetime. Jack can barely keep his mind on anything but putting one foot in front of the other. If he thinks too much about the possibility that they’re too late, he might be sick. God, he had Shuǐ within arm’s reach just this morning. He could still feel her on his lips from when she kissed him goodbye earlier that evening. How could everything go to the dogs in a matter of hours?

It's a great relief when they reach the Black Pearl and see no signs of an attack. Jack all but throws himself up the gangplank. “Love!”

When he gets no response, his heart sinks. “Shuǐ!” Jack tries again. “Love, are you here?”

As Jack opens the door to the captain’s quarters (she’s not there, either), the hatch pops up. He turns to it, but it’s only Jia, who quietly closes the hatch behind her. “Captain, you’re going to wake Nerida,” she scolds quietly. “If Shuǐ has to put her to bed again–”

“Is she here?” Jack asks.

Jia gives him a confused look. “No. She left to find you the moment I returned. She said something about needing a drink. I guess she and Desiree had a spat. They were both awfully upset when I came back.”

Jack doesn’t even catch the last bit; he’s too busy groaning and running his hands over his face. “Miss Liang, try to recall as much as ye can,” Barbossa takes over as Jack begins pacing the length of the deck. “How long ago did Miss Sao leave the ship?”

“I don’t know. Maybe an hour or so,” Jia muses, now nervously watching Jack. “What’s wrong with you two? Has something happened?”

Barbossa turns to Jack as well. “She might’ve happened upon the bar after we left. For all we know, she’s standing there puzzlin’ over where we’ve run off to.”

“It wouldn’t have taken her an hour to get from the Pearl to the tavern. It didn’t take us an hour,” Jack refutes.

“Jack, ye need to keep yer head. There’s no proof that she’s been–”

“Cap’n!” Gibbs calls from the dock. “You need to see this!”

Jack races to the taffrail. Even though that doesn’t sound good, his heart leaps with hope.

It’s for naught. Gibbs is standing at the gangplank with Ragetti, Pintel, and the rest of the crew. His expression is solemn, and he’s holding Shuǐ’s sword. Pintel has her pistol in one hand and what appears to be a folded-up note in the other.

There’s no denying it anymore. Shuǐ is gone. Taken.

From behind, Jack hears Jia gasp and clasp a hand over her mouth. “Cap’n,” Gibbs starts slowly, “what should we do?”

Jack stares at the sword. There’s a mess of emotions running through him that could render him useless—guilt, terror, devastation. But the one that is starting to come out on top, the one that he needs to be able to push forward is anger.

He takes his compass out of his pocket and flips it open. The needle sways back and forth, then settles itself rigidly, pointing east. Jack sets his face.

“The only thing we can do. Hoist the anchor.”

Chapter Text

The note that was left with Shuǐ’s weapons is written in Mandarin. Jia takes it upon herself to translate it while the crew is getting the Black Pearl underway. If Jack has anything to be thankful for, it’s that nobody is questioning his orders. The whole crew is working twice as swiftly as usual, even though it’s the middle of the night and nearly all of them have been drinking. It seems that he’s not the only one shaken by Shuǐ’s absence—her disappearance has sobered all of them. Gibbs keeps looking at empty spaces to request that the sails be lowered or reefed. When Barbossa isn’t barking orders, he stands with his hands behind his back, staring stonily at the dark sea. The first words out of Nerida’s mouth when she surfaced on deck during the commotion were, “Where’s Miss Shuǐ?”

Jack keeps waiting to hear her voice at his shoulder, asking him why he’s so tense. He keeps waiting to feel her hand drift across his back when she wants to trade places at the helm. He keeps waiting for the sound of a laugh, a scoff, anything. He’d give anything to have her standing by his side again.

And he would’ve given her so much more if he’d known how easily she could be taken away.

“Captain Jack?”

Jack shakes that thought away before it can plague him further. When he looks over, he sees it’s Nerida who has addressed him. Jia put her back to bed when they went below deck earlier—dawn has barely started breaking at this point—so he’s surprised to see her. “What is it, bug?”

Nerida looks cautiously at the deck like she’s nervous someone will overhear. She gestures for Jack to come closer, and, albeit bewilderedly, he leans toward her. “Do you think Miss Desiree is alright?”

Jack furrows his brow at her before looking toward the deck. He hasn’t paid Desiree any mind—she’s staying out of the crew’s way for once, not causing trouble. Though now that Nerida’s brought it up, she does look somewhat pale. “Dunno. She might be seasick,” he notes, turning back to Nerida. “I wouldn’t worry yourself with it, bug. We’ve got enough on our plates.”

Nerida nods slowly. When she speaks again, she sounds a little more brittle than before. “Are we really going to get Miss Shuǐ back?”

“We’re going to try our damnedest, that’s for certain,” Jack answers, almost more to himself than to her. “Go help Miss Jia. I’m sure she’d appreciate the company.”

Barely had the words left his mouth when the hatch slams open. Jia steps on deck and begins storming toward Desiree. “This is all your fault!”

“On second thought,” Jack remarks, placing Nerida in front of the wheel, “stay here. One hand there, one hand there, and keep her steady, will you?”

He rushes down to the deck, where Barbossa has already placed himself between a furious Jia and a cowering Desiree. “Miss Liang, we have no time for catfights!”

“What he said—without the last part,” Jack agrees as Jia turns her scowl on him. “You’re supposed to be translating the note.”

“I finished translating the note,” Jia states through gritted teeth. “And it says that her father–” she jabs her finger toward Desiree, who flinches, “–has made a deal with Shuǐ’s father, and that if we want Shuǐ back, we have to hand over Desiree.”

“I’ve already said I’d go!” Desiree retorts, though she shrinks again when Jia rounds on her. “It’s not like any of you like me, anyway.”

“Oh, and we’re just supposed to believe it’s a coincidence that after you show up, blustering your way onto our ship, Shuǐ gets kidnapped with this specific condition?” Jia bites back. “Admit it. This was part of your plan all along, wasn’t it?”

“No! I’ve told you, all I wanted was to get to know her. She’s my sister!”

“Will you drop the sister nonsense? She doesn’t even know you! And you know nothing about her!”

“Alright, that’s enough from both of you,” Jack scolds, putting a hand on Jia’s shoulder and gently moving her back. They can’t have this blowing up, lest it puts them off track. “We can discuss who’s whose sister later. Jia, what else does the note say?”

Jia clears her throat, her voice breaking slightly. “Nothing of importance.”

“No ransom? No meeting place?”

“All they want is Desiree.”

“Alright. Take over for Nerida at the helm. Refrain from tearing that one’s throat out as best you can—I imagine they want her alive.”

Jack nods toward Desiree, who reaches up to her neck. Jia gives her one more withering glare before heading for the stern. “I recommend ye stay out of her sights for now, Miss De Witte,” Barbossa tells Desiree as she edges out from behind him. “Miss Liang can be mighty fierce when she puts her mind to it.”

He doesn’t have to say it twice. Desiree immediately heads for the hatch. Once they’re both out of earshot, Barbossa turns to Jack and shakes his head. “This is a trap if ever I’ve known one, Jack.”

Jack harrumphs and starts walking to the bow. “That’s what I figure. Sao Feng would prefer if we turned our backs and decided it wasn’t worth the trouble back in Tortuga, but just in case we didn’t, he now has a French fleet waiting to annihilate us.”

“So, what’s our plan?”

“What do you mean, what’s our plan? The plan hasn’t changed.”

Barbossa crosses his arms as Jack pulls out his spyglass. “Even though we know it’s a trap?”

“Trap or not, we’re getting Shuǐ back,” Jack declares. “Why bother with a second plan if it doesn’t matter?”

“I’m still unclear on what the first plan entails.”

“Track Sao Feng down, get Shuǐ back. That’s the first plan. Although now we have to attach the returning Desiree bit—so I guess that’s the second plan.”

Barbossa quirks an eyebrow. “And how are we gettin’ Miss Sao back without perishin’, Jack?”

“I’m working on that part.”

Barbossa huffs, as though he expected that answer. “What do you want me to do, Hector?” Jack asks, closing his spyglass. “If you expect me to leave her in the hands of that poxy chunk of rotted seahorse–”

“I didn’t say that,” Barbossa retorts. “I think ye underestimate Miss Sao. We know for certain that her father does. If she’s smart about it, she’ll escape his clutches long before we catch up with his ship.”

Jack frowns and looks back at the horizon. It’s a fair point. If there’s anyone more determined to get Shuǐ away from her father, it’s Shuǐ herself. But the fact that she was captured in the first place is proof enough that Sao may have caught onto her tricks, to some extent. And what if she’s wounded? What if she’s being kept out of her senses? All the cunning in the world can’t help her then.

“If that’s the case, then we’re sailing out to meet her, and all is well,” Jack says finally. “But I’d rather come all this way to find her safe than spend another moment not knowing if she’s alright.”

Barbossa eyes him for a moment, then looks toward the horizon. A slight smirk tugs at his face. “I dare say, love is an interestin’ color on ye, Jack.”

“Oh, shut up. Tell somebody to make this ship go faster.”

Barbossa chuckles before turning to face the crew. “Ye heard the captain, ye filthy hounds! Make all sail!”

Jack remains at the bow as Barbossa starts up with the commands. He raises his spyglass again. The horizon is clear, but when he glances down at his open compass, the needle is still pointing straight ahead. They’re on the right track.

Jack collapses the spyglass. The emptiness by his shoulder resumes haunting him.

He only hopes Shuǐ can hold on till he gets there.

…

She doesn’t want to open her eyes.

She can feel the damp wood beneath her aching body. She can smell the salt and mold in the boards. She knows where she is—and she knows that it’s not the Black Pearl.

But if she keeps her eyes closed, she can pretend it’s all a nightmare. If she opens them, she’ll be forced to face the reality of her situation, a reality she wasn’t strong enough or wise enough to protect herself from, a reality she’s now paying for. She’d much rather pretend it’s a dream. And maybe if she stays still for long enough, they’ll think she’s dead, and they’ll throw her body overboard. Sure, she’ll most likely drown, but she’d much prefer that over whatever her father has planned for her.

As if protesting, a wave rattles the hull of the ship. Shuǐ groans as she’s jerked against the wall, and finally, she blearily opens her eyes. As she suspected, she’s in the store of the Empress, Sao Feng’s flagship. The Empress has two stores, technically—the main one that’s accessible by everyone and anyone, and one hidden behind a false wall, where most of the plunder obtained by more villainous means is kept. It’s a method of avoiding detection during surprise investigations or raids, and also helpful for stowing away, as she has done before. Shuǐ figures she’s in the second store, given that this room has no obvious exit.

Well, that’s enough self-pity for one day. She needs to get the hell out of here.

Her father has already made two mistakes. Mistake number one is abducting her in the first place. Shuǐ figures that if nothing more, Jia and Jack will have convinced the rest of the crew that she’s worth the trouble, and thus they’re on their way to get her right now. But she’s not in the mood to sit back and wait for them, so she focuses on mistake number two—using ropes to bind her instead of irons.

Shuǐ grimaces as she sits up, rocking slightly with the ship. Only one of her ankles is bound, the rope slipped through the metal ring that’s usually reserved for chains securing cargo. It’s not a significant length, but it should be enough to use to her advantage.

Her eyes flicker to one of the soggy, rotting boards just a few feet away. A rusty nail sticks out from the top.

Honestly, this is too easy.

Shuǐ moves quietly. She’s not sure what time it is or who could be listening. Luckily, the motions of sawing the ropes against the nail aren’t all that noticeable. It takes a few tries to get a position where her hands aren’t slipping, but soon enough, the friction breaks through the first rope.

Throwing caution to the wind, Shuǐ quickens her pace. In a matter of moments, she’s shaking the frayed ropes off her hands. She unties the loop around her ankle, stands, and rolls her shoulders back. Now comes the hard part.

She sneaks toward the opposite wall and presses her ear to it. She doesn’t hear any breathing or movement—she’s been left unguarded.

Mistake number three.

Shuǐ feels around the wall until her hands find the outline of the false panel, then cautiously swings it open. The main store is empty, and she’s free to make her way to the deck. From there, her options are to lower a rowboat or swim for it. It all depends on how bright it is outside. She prefers the former since it would be less of a risk, but she’d still rather fight the sharks than spend any more time on the Empress.

Shuǐ creeps out of the store. Though she’s getting closer and closer to the deck, there’s not much activity. She only has to duck to avoid two of her father’s men. When she reaches the hatch, she notices through the gaps in the wood that the sky is a pale shade of yellow and dark blue. Dawn is breaking. A rowboat will be easy to spot the lighter it gets.

Well, it looks like she’s swimming.

Knowing that wasting a moment could lead to her capture, Shuǐ bursts from the hatch and bolts for the taffrail. A startled yell comes from the helm, but she ignores it. She braces her foot on the taffrail and dives overboard.

Her instinct when she hits the water is to immediately start for the surface, but she fights it the best she can and pushes herself deeper. Her still-lethargic muscles strain slightly as she swims through the cool water. Only when it feels like her lungs are going to burst does Shuǐ finally break through the sunlight-dappled waves.

There’s more shouting coming from the Empress, which is slightly behind her now. Taking this as a good sign, Shuǐ pulls herself under the water again. This is fine. She’ll duck and cover for as long as it takes to get out of the ship’s sight, and once she’s far enough away, she’ll swim until she comes across another vessel, at which point she can bargain her way back to the Black Pearl.

Or maybe she’ll drown. Whichever comes first.

A blurry movement from beneath catches her attention as she treads below the surface. Shuǐ turns her attention to the shadows. She would’ve preferred to save the shark troubles for after she got away from the Empress, but beggars can’t be choosers, so she prepares to redirect what she suspects is a curious carnivore’s stalking attempt.

Instead, she has barely a moment to brace herself before she gets clobbered by something that is definitely not a shark. Shuǐ finds herself suddenly pressed against the deck of a ship, and when it breaks through the water, she’s tossed about like a limp fish that’s fallen into a fisherman’s boat.

Coughing and shivering in the now equally chilled air, she blinks water and tears out of her burning eyes. Everything slowly comes into focus—the deck of this ship is covered in barnacles, algae, and other forms of sea growth. Sea growth, Shuǐ realizes as the stinging in her body begins to register, that has scraped her up badly. Her right ankle aches something terrible. It must’ve taken the hit at an angle. The wind has been knocked out of her, and she takes in as much air as she can muster as she starts to pick herself up.

While she bites back curses at the salty seawater entering her open wounds, she hears heavy footsteps coming toward her. From behind, a large boot shoves down on her back, keeping her pinned to the deck. She yells in pain as new cuts are added to the collection already marking her body. “He was right,” a voice comes from above her. “Little fish tried to flee the bowl.”

Shuǐ’s head instantly jerks up to confront her assailants, especially the approaching party, though she’s not yet sure whether she’s preparing to plead her case or fight like the devil.

The monstrous face of Davy Jones scowls at her. Behind him, similarly creature-fused crewmates gather curiously. “Learned yer lesson yet, ‘ave yah?” Jones asks wryly.

Shuǐ glares back, burying the shock with her ire.

Then whoever’s pinning her from behind hits her in the back of the head, hard, and she’s down for the count again.

Chapter Text

When Shuǐ comes to again, a few things are different.

One, everything hurts twice as much.

Two, she has chains around her hands and feet.

Three, she is infinitely more hopeless.

Once the pounding in her head becomes a dull throb, she’s able to connect some of the dots. Her father has made a deal with Davy Jones, one that seems fashioned to keep her from escaping the Empress. Davy Jones, who controls the sea and every ship that sails it. If that’s truly the case, there’s no chance that Jack could get to her, even if he wanted to. For all she knows, the Black Pearl has already been sunk for its efforts. Another ship would face the same fate, and throwing herself into the ocean did her no good.

Unless she can find a loophole in this deal, she’s doomed.

The hidden door to the store opens. Shuǐ doesn’t bother looking up—if she wants to attempt another escape, she needs her father to believe she’s beaten. Much to her chagrin, it’s becoming easier and easier to play the part.

Sao Feng steps through the door. His gaze bores into her, but she keeps her eyes fixed on her bloodied hands, picking at the drying flakes around her scabbing wounds. “You needn’t look so demoralized.”

Shuǐ stops picking and gives him the most exasperated look she can muster. She doesn’t see how she can look anything but demoralized with a cut-up body and a sprained ankle. Sao narrows his eyes back, then sighs and steps further into the store. “Your resistance is understandable. Captain Sparrow has twisted your mind with promises of extravagance and grandeur, I imagine. I assure you, your betrothed will provide you with all that and more. And better yet, you will be home. Safe.”

Captive is what she corrects him with in her mind. Instead, when Shuǐ opens her mouth, she asks, “What are the terms of your deal with Captain Jones?”

Her father gives her a suspicious look, and Shuǐ adds before he can speak, “Your only daughter is being given away to another man. Do you not owe her the few moments of independence that remain?”

“We both want you off the seas,” Sao states after hesitating, as though he’s not entirely convinced that she’s given up. “It’s less of a deal—more like a collaboration of shared interests.”

Breaking that down to the essentials, that means any escape attempt to the sea will result in Shuǐ getting tossed back onto the Empress or Singapore’s shores. She purses her lips and nods. If escape is no longer an option, she’ll have to switch methods to get out of this. “What is he like? My betrothed.”

Sao looks taken aback by the question—rightfully so—but he answers more readily. “He’s wealthy. Stern. He will provide for you, but he has made it clear that he will not tolerate your more unruly behaviors. I hope you will at least pretend to be jovial and obedient during the ceremony, for his sake.”

“And what about the wedding?”

“I’ve heard he’s sparing no expense.”

Shuǐ hums in response. Finally, she looks Sao dead in the eyes. “Would you allow me to make an agreement with you, Father?”

“What is it?” Sao questions.

“I’ll go quietly to Singapore. No more running away. You’ll have the pleasure of seeing your only daughter married, and she will play her part to perfection,” Shuǐ proposes. She gives it a beat, then goes on. “Then, as soon as the formalities are finished, I’ll have the pleasure of killing myself–”

Sao grimaces and turns on his heel, and she shouts after him as he leaves, “–since it seems the only freedom you will grant me is the bittersweet relief of death!”

The hidden panel slams shut. Shuǐ scowls at it and slumps back, her throbbing head hitting the wood.

She hopes she’ll get a break to breathe, collect her thoughts, and figure out a better plan—one that doesn’t involve slitting her own throat in a wedding bed. But mere minutes have passed when the panel opens again. Shuǐ hasn’t had the chance to move, and she doesn’t plan to. She just glances at the door.

Lady Isadora De Witte enters. She’s a stark contrast against the dingy hull, polished and dressed in traveling clothes more fit for a grand vessel than the Empress–

Shuǐ picks her head up and stares at her in disbelief.

What in the world is she doing here?

Isadora must see the questioning in her eyes because the first words out of her mouth are, “You have Desiree.”

Shuǐ blinks, then rolls her eyes and leans back again. Of course. “So, what, Captain Sao kidnapped the wrong daughter?”

Isadora doesn’t speak. “Or am I your bargaining chip? The bait for the trap?” Shuǐ inquires. “Have you been making deals with Father dearest as well?”

She looks away. Just for a moment, but it’s all the confirmation Shuǐ needs. “Oh, bravo, Mother. Condemn one daughter to a life of suffering to free the other. And to think Desiree was convinced you’d want me to be a part of your big, happy family. I didn’t want her with us, in case you’re wondering. She came to me.”

“It was the only way,” Isadora tries to explain.

“Don’t even start,” Shuǐ snaps, abruptly getting to her feet (as much as it pains her). “I can name three other strategies that don’t involve trading me off like an animal. One, you could have taken Desiree in Tortuga instead of me. It would have been no great loss for the rest of us. Two, you could have set up a ransom. Three, you could have not involved Father at all and searched for her by yourself. Need I go on?”

“He came into port the day I learned that Desiree had been taken,” Isadora defends. “I was beside myself with grief.”

“And you two decided to reignite the old spark by chasing after your bastard child?”

“Shuǐ, that’s quite enough.”

Shuǐ shoots her mother a glare as she begins pacing—well, hobbling. “It’s not nearly enough! I know exactly why you chose the path you did. I’ve upset your perfect life. Your perfect husband and perfect daughter know I exist, and now everything is in disarray. You think that getting rid of me will fix all of it.”

Isadora holds her ground. “That is not what I think.”

“Then what, Mother? Look me in the eyes you gave me, your firstborn, and tell me why I’m rotting away in these shackles,” Shuǐ challenges, getting as close to her as the chains will allow. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t believe you want me contained.”

Isadora takes a breath. When she speaks again, it’s slow and measured, as though she’d rehearsed it. “Marriage is so much more fulfilling than you think it is, Shuǐ.”

“Oh, come on.”

“I’m serious,” she continues as Shuǐ trudges away and bangs her still-aching head against the hull. “From what your father has told me, your intended is a good man. If you can let go of your arrogance and accept him, you’ll be much happier than you ever would be on a ship.”

“That’s rich coming from the woman who had a baby with a pirate,” Shuǐ retorts—and that’s when things fall into place.

Isadora continues while Shuǐ is slowly turning to her, unaware of the sudden understanding on Shuǐ’s face. “Shouldn’t that make me more trustworthy on the subject? I loved Sao, and I loved you. But I knew a life with him would never compare to my life with Antoine. I was exactly where you are now, and I have never regretted following my path. I am perfectly satisfied with everything I have.”

“You’re jealous of me,” Shuǐ states, overlapping with her last statement.

Isadora’s eyes widen, and she stammers in reply. “Excuse me?”

“Why wouldn’t you be? You’re right; it’s just about the same situation. Except I have the guts to stick by what I want. You must’ve hated knowing that not only was your illegitimate daughter running around causing havoc, but she also had everything you’d ever wanted. That’s the real reason you sought out Father and made this deal. If you couldn’t get your freedom, why should I get mine?”

Isadora clamps her mouth shut. She doesn’t affirm it, but she doesn’t refute it either. Shuǐ gets caught somewhere between a scoff and a stunned laugh. “Wasn’t I a fool to be jealous of Desiree? If this is how you treat your daughters, I’m glad you abandoned me.”

“Shuǐ,” she starts quietly.

“Well, let me tell you something, Mother. If you think Captain Jack Sparrow is idiotic enough to fall for a trap so obvious, you’re wrong. I’m not sure what Father has in store for him yet, but I know that no matter what, Jack will only have his best interests at heart. Most unfortunately for you, that happens to be my safety.”

“And how do you know that he cares that much?” Isadora counters.

“Because if he didn’t, he would’ve let your husband shoot me dead,” Shuǐ retorts. “Besides, you would be out of luck if he didn’t. You’re dependent on the hope that he cares enough to follow your terms and trade Desiree for me. Would your dear admiral do the same for you? Would Father?”

Isadora frowns and turns to leave. “If I cannot make you see reason, I have nothing more to say to you.”

“When you see Father, will you ask if he’s thought over the terms of my offer?” Shuǐ questions. “I don’t want to waste the effort of planning a grand suicide.”

As expected, she gets no response—the door slams in her face again. Shuǐ stands there, then looks up, blinking away the tears coming to her eyes.

It sounds like the chances of Jack being alive and in pursuit are on the rise again. But there are still obstacles to consider. If the De Wittes are involved, the Admiral is probably bringing along the full force of whatever armada he’s been able to gather since Desiree ran off. Not to mention, Shuǐ figures her father’s pact with Davy Jones holds more importance than his pact with her mother, and neither party seems to be aware of his dealings with the other. They’re not out of the crosshairs yet.

Gods, she needs to get out of here. Even a few more hours on this ship might drive her mad. If she breaks free and throws herself off the ship a few more times, maybe Davy Jones will be sick of her and break the deal with Sao.

Shuǐ shakes her head at the naïve thought, her eyes landing on one of the crates nearby. She stares at the sharp corner of it, then looks down at the manacles and the thin chain that connects them. It’s just within her range, though she has to strain her injured ankle to reach it. She stumbles over to the crate with a hiss, pulls the manacles until the chain is taut, and raises her hands above her head.

This is going to bruise her wrists something awful.

…

Another sunset and sunrise pass before Jack finally spots a ship on the horizon.

The build of it is so distinctive that there’s no question that it’s Sao Feng’s. Jack rises in the crow’s nest and collapses his spyglass, then calls down to the helm. “Mister Gibbs!”

“Aye, Cap’n?” Gibbs replies as Jack begins climbing down to the deck.

“I’ve spotted him. Turn the hands up. Man all canvas.”

Gibbs’s eyes widen, and he nods, tying the wheel off. “Aye-aye, Cap’n.”

Jack replaces him at the helm, his fingers drumming against the spokes of the wheel. It’s still early in the morning, but he could swear he’s never seen the crew move quicker. It is not the same leisurely trickle of sailors that is characteristic of most days; they emerge in a burst, wild and frenzied and immediately put to work. There is no doubt that they will be upon the ship within the hour.

As the Black Pearl picks up speed, Jia surfaces with Nerida and Desiree trailing behind her. She steps up to the helm but stops halfway when Jack looks at her. “You’re sure it’s the Empress?” Jia asks cautiously.

“I know it doesn’t look like a ship that belongs on this side of the world,” Jack remarks. He checks his compass once more, the needle pointing right at the ship ahead. “It’s got to be.”

Jia nods determinedly, then takes Nerida’s hand and leads her back to the deck. Desiree doesn’t follow—she lingers on the steps, looking from the horizon to Jack. “I have no time to decipher glances, Miss De Witte,” he tells her. “If you have something to say, I suggest you say it.”

Desiree seems slightly surprised at his forwardness. She looks at the distant ship again. “Do you think Shuǐ is alright?”

Jack doesn’t take his eyes off the horizon. “I don’t think she’s given up hope, if that’s what you mean. She’ll throw herself to the sharks before she gives in to Sao Feng’s wishes. But I highly doubt she’s having tea and singing hymns with his crew.”

Desiree nods slowly, her face scrunching with guilt. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

“Whether you meant it or not isn’t the issue anymore,” Jack states, finally turning to her. “We’re stuck in this situation, no matter who the blame is placed on. The only thing you should concern yourself with is how you’re going to do right by Shuǐ.”

“Like you?”

Jack doesn’t respond. Instead, he turns his gaze back to the horizon. “Do you love her, Captain Sparrow? Or is this just another obligation?” Desiree presses.

“I think you should ask yourself a very similar question, Miss De Witte.”

Desiree stares at him for a moment before turning away and heading back to the deck.

Jack switches places with Gibbs again as they draw closer to Sao Feng’s ship, which is soon joined by a few more familiar-looking vessels. Barbossa brings his spyglass down when Jack approaches him. “The French. It looks like the admiral has arrived.”

“Lucky us,” Jack mutters. He turns to the crew and shouts, “Alright, listen up!”

They all turn to him as they continue working. “Here’s the plan. A small group of us will board Sao Feng’s ship to ensure all goes well. That’ll be Hector, Miss Jia, Pintel, a few of you others, and myself. Mister Gibbs and the rest of you will stay on the ship and prepare for our getaway. Ragetti, take care of the bug.”

“Why do I have to take care of the bug?” Ragetti complains.

“Why can’t I go with you?” Nerida adds.

Jack narrows his eyes at both of them. “Because I’m captain here, and I said so. Are we clear?”

“Aye, Captain,” the crew choruses, though there’s still grumbling from Nerida and Ragetti.

“Good. We’re going to pull the Pearl right up to them and make them as uncomfortable as possible. Hands to halyards.”

“Hands to halyards!” Barbossa repeats, more commanding.

With the wind on their side, it doesn’t take them long at all to gain on the pod of ships—though it helps that all three have slowed their motion. The Black Pearl is forced to pull in between Sao Feng’s ship and the French ships. Once their bow is aligned with the stern of the Empress, Barbossa orders, “Cut out the sails!” while Jack walks along the taffrail, observing the crowd gathered on the deck.

Sao Feng is standing across from him on the Empress, joined by Lady Isadora De Witte, Admiral De Witte, and a young man that Jack’s never seen before. The crew lowers the anchor once they’ve drifted parallel with the other ships. Desiree rushes up next to Jack, her eyes widening at the sight of the unfamiliar young man. “Edmund!”

“Where is Shuǐ?” Jack asks.

Sao simply smirks. “All in due time, Captain Sparrow. The girl first.”

Jack grimaces but steps back while Pintel and Ragetti put the gangplank in place. Desiree eyes the rickety board nervously at first, but strengthens her resolve and steps across to the Empress. Lady Isadora meets her there, pulling her into a tight embrace. As soon as she’s clear, Admiral De Witte calls to the French ships, “Man the cannons!”

Jack’s grip on the taffrail tightens while Barbossa replies in kind, “Load the guns!”

The rest of the crew, despite looking utterly confused by the sudden turn of events, get to it. Desiree pulls away from her mother. “What? You had a deal!”

“Desiree, remember yourself,” Admiral De Witte warns.

“Maman!” she continues objecting. “You said you would give Shuǐ back. Aren’t you going to do something?”

Isadora clenches her jaw. Desiree finally turns to her fiancé, Edmund, who seems lost and merely shrugs. Desiree looks at all three of them one more time—and as it settles in that this has all been a ploy in her favor, she suddenly rips herself away from her mother and hurries back to the gangplank. “Desiree!”

She gets halfway across the plank, ignoring her parents’ shouting, then turns to face them with a resolved expression, precariously perched above the unforgiving ocean. “If you won’t return Sao Shuǐ to her rightful place, then the deal is off!”

Jack’s eyes widen, and he turns to Jia. She looks equally stunned, but her brow only furrows. “Oh, for God's sake, hold your fire!” Admiral De Witte barks at the French ships while Isadora addresses Desiree. “Desiree, get down from there!”

“Not until you release Shuǐ!” Desiree retorts. “If you refuse, I will have no choice but to remain on the Black Pearl.”

“Desiree, dearest,” Edmund starts, “do you really want to spend any more time on that—that grimy dinghy? We have a wedding to plan.”

Desiree fixes him with a fierce, Shuǐ-like glare, causing him to wilt. This time, she turns to Sao, who shows no change in expression. “If you won’t return Sao Shuǐ to her rightful place,” she repeats coldly, “the deal is off.”

“Desiree–” Admiral De Witte begins frustratedly, but Sao interrupts. “Let them come aboard. We’ll show them what happens when they don’t accept their losses.”

Desiree relaxes at that. She turns to Jack and Jia and motions for them to follow her onto the Empress. They do, with Barbossa and Pintel trailing behind. As Jack passes Sao, he states, “I trust you know what you’re getting yourself into, Captain Sparrow.”

Jack glares at him but doesn’t dignify him with a response. Once they’re below deck, Jia moves quickly. “If I had to guess, she’s in the stores. There’s a false panel or something—if we can’t find her there, I don’t know where she’d be.”

“I’ll check there. You check anywhere else just to be certain,” Jack suggests.

Jia nods and breaks away. Jack heads for the deepest part of the ship, and as he gets closer, he hears a clanging echo through the hold.

Losing any remaining composure he has, Jack breaks into a run.

Chapter Text

Shuǐ’s wrists are well-beaten when she starts to hear the shouting.

In the middle of a break to soothe her sore skin, she perks up. It’s hard to make out exactly what her father’s crew is saying from down here, but the tone makes it sound urgent. And when the motion of the ship begins to slow, her heart leaps.

It could be the Black Pearl.

But “could be” isn’t good enough to convince her to await rescue. For all she knows, it “could be” the Flying Dutchman coming back to torment her. So, she pulls the chain connecting the manacles taut again and continues to chip away at it. She’s made fair progress, working all through the night, only ceasing when her brittle bones can bear it no longer. Bits and pieces of metal are beginning to pile up on the now dented corner of the crate, and she takes that as a good sign. With every new rush of commotion from the deck, she works a little faster. When she hears footsteps coming from the hatch, she brings her hands down a little harder.

The chain shatters moments before there’s a banging on the wall. Shuǐ grabs a rotting board propped against the hull just as the false door swings open. “Shuǐ!”

She swings around, brandishing her makeshift weapon—then immediately drops it when she sees Jack standing in the doorway.

For a moment, all Shuǐ does is stare at him.

He came to get her.

She knew he would, truly, and yet the wave of relief that crashes through her has her collapsing into his arms the moment he wraps them around her. He tugs her back to her feet—in the elation of seeing him, she’d forgotten she was still chained to the wall and tried running to him. “What’d he do to you?” Jack asks hurriedly, trying to cup her face so he can see the damage. “Did he hurt you?”

Shuǐ shakes her head, barely able to form coherent thoughts, let alone sentences, when all she can think about is how happy she is to see him. She just pulls him closer, buries her head in his chest, and sobs. She doesn’t think she’ll ever be able to bring herself to let go.

Jack holds her without question, kissing her on the side of the head, his hand stroking her back comfortingly, his voice almost shaking as much as her shoulders. “I know, love. I missed you, too.”

Shuǐ manages a laugh through her tears, pressing herself impossibly closer to him. As much as she’d love to stay there in his arms forever, a voice from beyond the stores calls out and interrupts. “Jack, I couldn’t find her on the gun deck.”

Jack clears his throat and pulls back just slightly. “I’ve got her. She’s right where you said she’d be.”

Shuǐ looks over his shoulder and nearly bursts into tears again when Jia comes into view. “Jia!”

“What on earth happened to you?” Jia scolds, almost shoving Jack out of the way so she can hug Shuǐ. “Did they let a shark chew on you before they decided to hand you back to us?”

“There’ll be time for all that later,” Jack states. His hand hasn’t left Shuǐ’s back. “For now, let’s get her out of these chains.”

“Oh—right.”

While Jia fusses with the lockpick, Shuǐ leans on Jack’s shoulder for support. “Where’s everyone else?”

He brushes pieces of hair sticking to sweaty, bloody, and tear-covered skin out of her face. “Hector and a few others are on deck, keeping an eye on things. The rest of them are on the Pearl preparing for a swift exit.”

“You sound surprised to see us,” Jia notes as she picks the last lock on the cuff around Shuǐ’s sprained ankle. “Didn’t think you were worth the trouble?”

She grimaces and stumbles slightly, prompting Jack to slide his arm around her, giving her better support. “Nothing so depressing. My father made it clear he wasn’t going to give me up without a fight, regardless of his deal with the De Wittes.”

Jia grins as she straightens up. “Oh, Desiree took care of that. You should have heard her demanding your release. It was quite the slap in the face to the admiral and your mother.”

She drapes Shuǐ’s other arm around her shoulders. While Jia and Jack work to help her limp along, Shuǐ inquires, “How did you get past Davy Jones?”

Jack stops in his tracks and turns to her. “What?”

“My father made a deal with Davy Jones to keep me off the sea,” Shuǐ explains, already feeling her heart sink. “How did—how are we going to get past him?”

Jia looks at her for a moment, and then all three of them turn their eyes up to where the deck and their last foe wait. “Well,” Jack says after a moment, “I suppose we’ll figure it out as we go along. It’s worked so far, hasn’t it?”

Shuǐ softly smiles at him. “Miss Jia, lead the way,” he instructs. “We’ll need a guard more than anything.”

As Jia nods and steps in front of them, Jack glances back at Shuǐ. No words are exchanged, but his eyes hold a promise—he’s getting her out of here, no matter what.

Shuǐ squeezes his shoulder and resumes limping toward the hatch.

She’s been below deck for so long that the sunlight is almost overwhelming. Once Shuǐ’s eyes adjust, she takes in the scene: her father, Davy Jones, and the other sea monsters that are members of Davy Jones’ crew are standing together, across from Barbossa, Pintel, and the other few crewmen. Desiree is in her pod of family, though she clearly isn’t pleased by it—Admiral De Witte has a firm grip on one of her arms, while Edmund has a less committed grip on the other. The Flying Dutchman and the Black Pearl rest on either side of the Empress. When Shuǐ looks across the deck, she can see Ragetti holding Nerida by the taffrail of the Black Pearl with the rest of the crew watching tensely.

Without looking away from Davy Jones, Barbossa shouts over, “Alright there, Miss Sao?”

“Just lovely,” Shuǐ replies, scowling at her father and Davy Jones when they look in her direction. “Thank you for asking.”

Davy Jones grimaces back, but Sao looks oddly pleased. “Well, there you go,” he says as he approaches them. Jack protectively steps in front of Shuǐ, and she lets him this time. “Congratulations, Captain Sparrow. You’ve fulfilled your debt to my daughter. For your efforts, I will allow you to bid her one final farewell. Do not test my mercy any further.”

“I’m not leaving without her,” Jack retorts.

Sao doesn’t bat an eye. He simply gestures back to Davy Jones. “Regrettably, you must.”

Shuǐ feels her heart sink further. There are no clever tricks to help them out of this one; none that she can think of. Jack reaches back to grab her hand, as though sensing her doubts and attempting to reassure her. “What, you’re going along with this?” he addresses Jones. “You’d subject a woman to injury just to protect your ego?”

“The specifics of the situation do not concern me,” Jones states firmly, stepping forward. “We have an agreement.”

Jack doesn’t stand down. “Is that what this is about? Fine. Make her part of my deal. A hundred and one years of service on the Dutchman if you’ll let her leave with me.”

Shuǐ turns to him, her brow furrowing slightly in shock. Jones eyes Jack for a moment, then proposes, “A hundred and one years of service from both of yah.”

Jack grimaces in reply. So, that’s his limit. And Shuǐ is somewhat grateful that he values her enough to know it’s a faulty deal. There’s no point in trading one prison for another.

It appears that Jones has made the suggestion in cruel jest, as he huffs with satisfaction. “Then my deal with Sao Feng stands.”

“Oh, yes,” Desiree interjects, a little dramatically. “And Sao Feng is so reliable when keeping his end of his deals.”

Shuǐ looks over at her, her eyes widening at this new boldness. “Hold your tongue,” Lady Isadora warns, but it’s too late.

Jones turns to face her, his eyes narrowing. “What prompted that outburst, girl?”

Desiree flicks her head back to clear a piece of hair from her face, still trying to look as dignified as possible. “My apologies. I only meant to say that out of the three agreements Sao Feng has made, he’s only been able to keep the one so far. He told Captain Sparrow that if I was returned to my family safely, they would get Shuǐ back. Instead, he and my father were going to open fire on the Pearl. And he wasn’t able to fulfill that pledge, either. Well, not without some interference.”

Jones jerks his head back to Sao, who starts looking less sure of himself. “What?”

“That is not accurate,” Sao refutes, though there’s an edge to his voice.

“So, it is not accurate that yah were not only double-dealin’ behind my back,” Jones declares, “but that yah were also plannin’ to betray the Code?”

“…Not entirely.”

Davy Jones faces Sao fully, looming over him. “Yah do understand that the Code prohibits the targeted sinkin’ of the fellows, do yah not, Cap’n Sao?”

Shuǐ knows her father is never one to back down, so it doesn’t surprise her when he juts his chin with arrogance, though she considers it an exceedingly stupid move. “With all due respect, I was never going to be the one sinking the Black Pearl. That was the admiral’s end of the bargain.”

As their bickering continues, Desiree shoots a delighted smile at Shuǐ. She gives Desiree an appreciative nod back while Jack leans closer to her. “They’re on the ropes,” he murmurs. “How d’you want to play this?”

Shuǐ glances at him, then eyes the others on the deck. Davy Jones’ crew is already preparing to make an advance, and her father’s men are nervously keeping their attention on them, should the need to defend arise. What really matters is that neither party is paying much mind to their captains.

“Do you have my pistol?” she whispers to Jack.

“Yeah.”

“Loaded?”

“Of course.”

“Hand it over.”

Jack does as she asks, and before she steps away, Shuǐ says, “Keep yours at the ready.”

The pain in her ankle races up through her body with every step she takes, but Shuǐ ignores it. There’s only one way for her to end this effectively, and to do that, she’ll have to stand alone. No support, no protection—just her.

“Father,” she interrupts as she reaches Sao and Davy Jones.

Sao turns, but Shuǐ puts her pistol to his head before he can spew any venom at her. While his face falls, there’s a sudden flurry of clicking and unsheathing as everyone draws their weapons. Shuǐ knows most of them are pointed at her, but she doesn’t let that rattle her.

“Do you know what I’m sick and tired of?” Shuǐ questions. “For the past three days, I have heard about nothing but deals, deals, deals. Deals that concern me and what I should be doing with my life. Deals that decide whether I get what I want or not. Yet no one has consulted me, the subject of all these deals, about my thoughts on them. Don’t you find that odd?”

Sao stares furiously, but he doesn’t reply. “I’d like to remedy that if you don’t mind. So, let’s make a deal, you and I. No more third parties or go-betweens.” Shuǐ slowly pulls the hammer back, letting the click into place punctuate her silence. “You let me leave peacefully with my captain and crew, or I put an unsightly hole in the middle of your head.”

His jaw tightens. Sao looks around, and the sight of his crew being ready to fight must grant him one last boost of confidence. A chuckle bubbles in his throat. “You’ll be killed the moment you fire that pistol.”

“True enough,” Shuǐ agrees with a casual shrug. “But at least then I won’t have to marry some verminous lord that’d beat me half to death for looking at him the wrong way.”

Sao’s smirk drops. He glances to the side, where Jones is standing, but the lack of a reaction tells Shuǐ that all he wants to do is wash his hands of this mess. That means there’s only one way out of this for Sao—her way. When her father looks at her again, she can see the reluctant defeat in his eyes.

He motions for his men to lower their weapons.

Shuǐ picks her head up triumphantly. “Do you see me now, Father? The girl you once reviled has finally grown into a woman you fear. I could’ve been your legacy. Now, I’m going to ensure that whenever anyone hears the name Sao, I’m the only person they think about.”

“Get off my ship,” Sao seethes.

“Oh, gladly.”

Shuǐ puts her pistol on her belt and falls behind Jia, taking her hand as they head for the gangway. She nods respectfully to Davy Jones as she passes him, not wishing to ruin their only chance of escape with whatever witty jab comes to her mind, then turns towards the bow. “Desiree.”

She perks up, and Shuǐ smiles at her. “Thank you. And a word of advice—cherish the life you have.” Her eyes travel to Isadora. “You never know who’s going to try to take it from you.”

Isadora can’t even meet her eyes. Shuǐ gets across the gangplank without losing her limited balance, though she clasps Barbossa’s hand when he offers it to help her down. The moment she sets foot on the Black Pearl, all the anxiety that’s held her rigid for the past few days leaves her. Nerida reaches for her while the gangplank is being removed, and Shuǐ takes her hand and squeezes it. Then she looks back at the Empress. “Oh, and one more thing!”

As heads are turning, she limps over to Jack. “Captain.”

“Love,” Jack responds casually, but the growing grin on his face tells her he already knows where this is going.

Shuǐ smiles back, then takes his face in her hands and kisses him the way she’s longed to since he found her in the stores.

Jack instantly gives in, his arm coming around her back to pull her into him even more. There seems to be a unanimous gasp from the crew—and then Gibbs shouts, “Alright, Cap’n!” and the cheering starts.

Jack draws away first, and Shuǐ laughs with delight when he suddenly sweeps her up, carrying her like a bride. “How d’you like that?” he shouts back to the Empress, a wide, smug smile on his face. “Hands to halyards! Clap on all the sail we have!”

“You heard the captain!” Barbossa orders. “Get a move on!”

The rest of the crew quickly gets to work. Once they’re out of earshot, he turns to Jack and Shuǐ. “As wonderful as it is to see ye reunited, I suggest ye take care of–” Barbossa gestures to Shuǐ “–all this.”

Shuǐ’s brow furrows slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Ye look like ye were keelhauled on a sandpaper hull,” he states bluntly.

She gives Barbossa a look, but Jack interjects, “We should get you patched up sooner rather than later. Would be a shame if we came all this way and you ended up dying of infection.”

“You’re hilarious,” Shuǐ retorts, though she can’t help but smile as she says it. The breeze fills the sails while Jack carries her to the captain’s quarters. Listening as Barbossa and Gibbs continue to relay commands, she closes her eyes and lays her head on Jack’s shoulder.

It’s good to be back where she belongs.

…

“Ow.”

Jack gives Shuǐ a look as she draws the vowel out, then continues dabbing the saltwater-soaked cloth around the scrapes on her face. “If you didn’t scrunch up your face like that, it wouldn’t hurt as much.”

“If you had listened to me when I told you I’d already gotten saltwater in them, they wouldn’t hurt in the first place,” Shuǐ mumbles, wincing again when he dabs at the abrasion on her forehead. “Jack, ow.”

“Well, if you hadn’t done whatever you did to get them in the first place, then they wouldn’t need to be disinfected.” Jack dabs at her face one last time, then throws the cloth into some corner of the cabin. “There, done.”

Shuǐ expects that to be the end of that, but Jack carefully holds her face and leans closer to her. He kisses a few of the cuts, then sits back up, his lips pursed. “Ugh. Salty.”

Shuǐ giggles as he wipes his mouth on his sleeve. Jack lies down next to her, slinging one arm over her stomach. “Alright?”

“Yeah,” she responds, looking at her hands. Her ankle is wrapped securely, and her palms are the same, but the bruises from the chains are dark and ugly. She’s honestly surprised that her wrists aren’t broken. “Just exhausted. And uncomfortable. I need to get out of these clothes so they can dry properly.”

Jack just hums in reply, running his hand over the damp fabric. Shuǐ waits for something more, and when it doesn’t come, she turns on her side and props her head up. “No offer to help? You must be more rattled than I thought.”

He looks up at her, as though he has only just started listening. “Alright, out with it. What’s the matter with you?” Shuǐ asks.

“What’s the matter with me?” Jack repeats, amused—though Shuǐ notices that his tone doesn’t quite match his eyes. “I’m not the one who got kidnapped.”

“No, but you are the one who’s barely talking, and as the one who is craving some sense of normalcy, I’m reluctant to ignore it.”

Jack sits up as she speaks, his gaze traveling to the window. She can see in the reflection of his eyes that he’s only getting more distant. Shuǐ moves closer to him until they’re shoulder to shoulder, then brushes her hand against the side of his face.

She doesn’t need to say anything—he turns his head and takes her hand in his own, kissing her exposed knuckles. “It never should have happened.”

“Oh, Jack,” Shuǐ starts, but Jack keeps going. “I swore I’d keep you away from him. I should’ve stayed on the Pearl with you.”

“Then the blame is no more yours than it is mine,” Shuǐ reasons. “I shouldn’t have been walking around Tortuga at night without a companion.”

Jack looks at her, his brow furrowing. “Don’t be ridiculous. You couldn’t have known you were going to be–”

Shuǐ stares back at him, her expression barely changing. “…I hate it when you do that,” he mumbles as he places his lips on her knuckles again.

She simply smiles. “I didn’t take you for the protective type.”

Jack looks at her for a moment more before leaning closer, until their foreheads are almost touching. In any other situation, it might be considered intimidating. At the moment, the move seems very vulnerable for him. “Never had much worth protecting before.”

Shuǐ’s eyes soften. After a pause, Jack speaks again. “You mean you can say with your whole chest that you don’t harbor even the slightest bit of resentment towards me?”

“You came to get me,” Shuǐ says gently, pressing her head against his. “That’s all that matters.”

Jack doesn’t respond at first. Then he dips his head to kiss her, which she gladly accepts. Shuǐ feels his other arm sneak its way around her back, and he tugs her onto him, causing her to pull back involuntarily. However, when she goes in for another kiss, he dodges her advance and instead plants a kiss on her jawbone. Then he continues traveling downward, kissing her neck.

“You don’t waste any time, do you?” Shuǐ jokes, fidgeting slightly at the ticklish sensation.

“You said you wanted these clothes off,” Jack points out while he undoes the sash around her waist.

“Well then, dear heart, I’m glad you’ve finally come to your senses.”

“Very funny.”

Shuǐ giggles as Jack kisses her lips again, his hands traveling underneath the still-damp fabric of her blouse and peeling it off. But once she’s bare, he pauses. Before Shuǐ can question it, Jack sheds his white shirt and puts it over her head. Once she catches on and puts her arms through the sleeves, all he does is pull her into him, his head leaning against hers while his hand slips under the shirt and draws shapes on her back.

Shuǐ picks her head up slightly. “Aren’t you going to continue?”

Jack doesn’t answer for a moment. “Maybe after a quick nap,” he says finally, his hand traveling up to her hair, smoothly working through the tangles that have appeared.

Shuǐ hums and kisses his ear. “I can get behind that.”

And so, with the sunlight warming her skin and Jack breathing in her ear, Shuǐ falls asleep for the first time in three days.

Chapter Text

The first nights back on the Black Pearl are rough, to say the least. Shuǐ barely sleeps; her body is far too wary, and her nerves far too shot. And when she does sleep, it’s never for long. She often wakes with a start. Her mind is still convinced that she’s in the hold of the Empress, horribly alert and unforgiving with its defenses. It makes a point to keep her on guard.

Jack is awfully tolerant of it all. Every time she jolts back to consciousness, her body trembling and her hands flailing, he’s quick to pull her closer to him. It is a trivial but valuable reminder that she’s somewhere safe, somewhere she wants to be. His consistent readiness to comfort her makes Shuǐ think he’s not sleeping well, either.

The days are better, though it took some coaxing on that very first morning for Jack to let Shuǐ on deck, even with her ankle still swollen and sore. He eventually agreed, but only after making it clear to the crew that if she tried to help with their duties, they were to turn her away. Now Gibbs gives her apologetic looks whenever he calls out for a sail to be adjusted, as though it’s a cruel taunt. Which it is, but through no fault of his. Shuǐ uses the free time to work on new tattoo ideas and paint more of her ivory pistol—there’s too much white space left from her unplanned absence, both on the pistol and on her pages.

“What do all of your tattoos mean?” Nerida asks her, sitting next to her on a crate and watching her sketch.

Shuǐ puts the charcoal behind her ear and holds out her arm. “I only have the two. The fang is from one of the first treasures we found, and the piece of eight is for when Captain Sparrow became a Pirate Lord.”

“What’s a Pirate Lord?”

“A pirate that’s more important than all the other pirates.”

Nerida’s brow furrows in confusion. “That’s what you said a captain was.”

“Yes, but a Pirate Lord is even more important than a captain,” Shuǐ states before pointing to the new drawing in her sketchbook. “I’m thinking I’ll do a pistol next, for conquering the kidnapping plot.”

“Can I have a tattoo?” Nerida asks.

Shuǐ pauses before answering, then picks up her charcoal again. She supposes it is her call, as Nerida’s future captain. “Sure. When you’re older.”

Nerida pouts and leans back against the taffrail with her arms crossed. “I never get to do anything fun.”

“Spending time with me isn’t fun?” Shuǐ questions as she turns to her and mimics her dejected expression.

Nerida doesn’t answer, though her glances show she’s having second thoughts. “I see how it is,” Shuǐ states dramatically, going to stand. “Well, the least I can do is spare you my dull company. I’ll just go below deck, where it's dark and lonely.”

She barely takes a step before she feels a hand grab the back of her sleeve. Shuǐ refrains from grinning and sits back down on the crate. “Or I suppose I could stay for a while longer. If you really want me to.”

Nerida simply hooks her arm around Shuǐ’s, leaning her head against it. She has been Shuǐ’s main source of company during the day, when Jack and Jia have their duties. Indeed, between the three of them, Shuǐ is rarely left alone. She does not mind that quite as much as she might have before.

Nerida is not exempt from chores, either, though. Soon after, Gibbs calls over, “Little missie! We have a rat on the gun deck!”

“I’ll get it!” Nerida responds as she hops off the crate and dashes for the hatch.

Shuǐ smiles, watching her run off. She turns as Jack’s voice comes from behind her. “Abandoned you, has she?”

“Indeed,” Shuǐ replies, adjusting to face him. “When Uncle Gibbs needs something, I’m chopped liver.”

“Uncle Gibbs?” Jack repeats as he sits next to her. His arm meanders around her waist. “Is that what she’s calling him now?”

Shuǐ nods. “Or so I’ve heard. That’s good, though. It means she’s adjusting well.”

“Sure. I’d wager it’s only a matter of time before she starts calling you Mum.”

“Be careful what you wish for. She might start calling you Father first.”

Shuǐ feels Jack recoil at the idea. “Yeah, hopefully not.”

She giggles and leans against him, watching the rest of the crew as they go about their work. Shuǐ swings her legs slightly. “When are you going to let me near the sails again?” she asks.

Jack looks at her and leans his head on top of hers. “When you can walk without wobbling.”

“I can walk without wobbling,” Shuǐ states, and Jack gives her an unconvinced look. “How am I supposed to build the strength in my muscles back up if all I do is sit all day? It’s been almost two weeks, dear heart. At this rate, all the rest will make me prone to more injury.”

“Lifting things you shouldn’t be lifting without the proper support will do the same,” Jack points out.

Shuǐ hums with reluctant agreement. Jack glances at her, then picks his head up with a sigh. “Alright, how ‘bout this. You can be captain tomorrow.”

Shuǐ’s face instantly brightens. “Really?”

“Well, I wouldn’t want you to be miserable. Besides, captaining doesn’t require too much physical labor in the best circumstances. Don’t say I never do anything nice for you.”

“I’ve never said that in the first place,” Shuǐ remarks, standing up and kissing him on the cheek. “Thank you.”

Jack watches her head for the captain’s quarters, a smile lingering on his face before he goes to deliver the next order. In his haste, he misses a most curious exchange. Barbossa observes Jack from the helm, then makes eye contact with Gibbs. They nod at each other.

It’s time for a talk.

…

“Absolutely not.”

“Jack,” Barbossa continues as he follows Jack out of the magazine, “she’s ready. Ye know she is. We’ve got nothin’ left to teach her. Mister Gibbs has said so himself.”

“Don’t be preposterous, I’ve got oodles left to teach her,” Jack refutes, barely sparing Barbossa a glance. “She hasn’t learned how to get rid of a faulty cannon, or where to find the best tar for the riggings, or where to hide the best rum for herself.”

He’s almost at the hatch when Barbossa steps in front of him, blocking his path. “And almost all of those things will be the duties of her crew. Ye’ve taught her everything important, captain-wise.”

Jack begrudgingly stops in his tracks, a prominent grimace on his face. Alright, so they’re poor excuses. But is it his fault that he can’t bear the thought of Shuǐ leaving again? After they saw what a mess he was during the kidnapping, he thought he’d be able to stave off any attempts to get her on the road for a bit longer. He knows better than anyone that Shuǐ is ready, especially after the stunt she pulled against Sao Feng—but he’s certainly not.

“And how does the rest of the crew feel about this?” Jack questions suspiciously.

“Y’know as well as I that the crew likes her enough. That doesn’t mean they’re as opposed to the idea as ye.”

Jack narrows his eyes with a huff. “Jack,” Barbossa starts again, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Miss Sao will make a fine captain, thanks to ye. But that’ll only happen if ye let it. She doesn’t deserve to be held back any longer. Ye’d be doin’ her a favor.”

“She’s not being held back if she’s got more to learn,” Jack refutes, stepping around him. “If it’s so important to you, fine, I’ll agree to an ultimatum—once she captains us through a raid, I’ll determine how ready she is.”

With that, Jack steps onto the deck, only to be met by Shuǐ herself. “We’re about to cross paths with that route of merchant ships you talked about the other day,” she tells him as they walk to the bow.

“Fancy that. Well, once you spot one, I’ll take the hat back.”

Jack expects her to agree, but instead, Shuǐ turns to him with a hopeful gaze. “Actually, I was wondering if I could lead the advance.”

He blinks at her. “What?”

“Well, I was thinking about it earlier, and I figured the two most important things a captain does are get the crew through a storm and get the crew through a raid,” Shuǐ explains. “I’ve already gotten the crew through a storm, and the opportunity is here, so I thought it’d be alright.”

Jack continues to stare at her, internally cursing his luck. But she couldn’t have known about the deal he made, not even moments ago. And when she looks at him so eagerly, he has a hard time saying no to her. “…You make a fair point, love. Take it as far as you can, but if you start to lose your footing, hand things back to me, savvy?”

Shuǐ beams and kisses him on the cheek. “Thank you, Jack.”

“You’re welcome,” he mutters, more to himself as she’s already halfway across the deck again, giving her commands to the crew. When Jack turns around, he sees Barbossa leaning against the mast a few feet away. “This doesn’t count.”

Barbossa raises an eyebrow and smirks.

Much to Jack’s growing annoyance, they spot a traveling ship within the next hour. Shuǐ is quick to lock onto it and relays her orders from the helm with great efficiency. “Square away! We’ll run up the signals and make our intentions clear.”

“Our intentions bein’ what, Captain Sao?” Barbossa questions wryly—it seems to Jack that even with his feelings about her ability, he’s still looking for any reason to challenge her.

“We’ll pull up on its port side and board, take whatever looks interesting, then leave,” Shuǐ replies, barely phased. “Mister Gibbs! Have someone fire a warning shot.”

Jack leans against the taffrail, watching as Gibbs repeats the order to Pintel and Ragetti. Everyone is working just as effectively as they do when he’s commanding the Black Pearl. Shuǐ has struck the hard-to-find balance between letting her sail-master handle the technique of the approach and making what she wants known without being overbearing. This is shaping up to be a clean-cut raid.

He feels only slightly guilty when his heart leaps at the sight of a British naval frigate coming toward them.

Jack comes up to the helm at the same time as Gibbs. “We’ve got a problem, Cap’n,” Gibbs says.

“No, really?” Shuǐ asks dryly. “Where on earth did they come from?”

“Eh, every once in a while, the navy sets out a lure. Happens to the best of us,” Jack states as he reaches for his hat. “Better luck next time. I’ll shake them off.”

To his surprise, Shuǐ takes the hat off and hands it to him, but keeps her place at the helm. “We sailed past a cove just a bit ago, didn’t we?”

“Aye, if I recollect,” Gibbs answers.

“We’ll backtrack there and hide in the sea caves,” she decides. “If we can lose the British fast enough, they’ll never think to look there.”

Jack’s brow furrows. “Except that it’s low tide. How are we going to get over the sandbar into the lagoon?”

Shuǐ turns to him with a grin. “I have some ideas. Mister Gibbs, get the crew to make speed, and quickly. I’ll turn us around.”

Gibbs nods and shouts back to the crew, “Miss Shuǐ says fall back! Shake out a reef, we need full sail!”

Shuǐ waits until Gibbs is out of earshot, then looks at Jack again. Despite the turn of events, her eyes are still glimmering with excitement. “I know what I said earlier, but I think I’m onto something here. Can I keep command, just for a bit? If it’s not working, you can take over.”

The urge to bluff his way back to captain status is tempting. But Shuǐ’s determined expression and one glance at Barbossa tell Jack that such a move will be met with irritation from both sides, and he’s not interested in remedying that for the rest of the day. Add to that, the intrigue to see what exactly Shuǐ is planning rings just as strong.

“Look, you seem to have everything worked out,” Jack replies, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “If you reckon you can get us past that sandbar, I’m perfectly content to stand by and see what you’ve cooked up.”

Shuǐ looks mildly surprised by his approval, but she smiles and offers him the wheel. “In that case, you’re in charge of this. I’ll do better on the deck.”

“Whatever you say, love.”

With Jack at the helm, Shuǐ rushes down to the deck, grabbing one of the halyards and shaking out a sail. “Don’t tie them up just yet,” she tells the crew. “Keep a hold on them. How far back are the British?”

“They’re not in firin’ range,” Gibbs responds, “but we shouldn’t try our luck.”

Shuǐ nods and holds tightly to the rope as the Black Pearl tilts slightly with the sharp turnaround. Moments later, Jia comes up from the hold, followed by Nerida. “What in the world is going on up here now?”

“Good, you two can help. Hold this,” Shuǐ instructs, giving Jia the loose halyard before turning to Nerida. “Nerida, go up to the crow’s nest and call down to me when you see a cave behind a sandbar.”

Nerida beams and nods excitedly before heading for the ratline. When Shuǐ turns back to Jia, she looks staggered. “What?”

“Shuǐ! She’s only seven years old!”

“Oh. Fair point.” Shuǐ turns back to Nerida and shouts, “Don’t fall!”

Jia gives her another look, brandishing the halyard. “And what do I do with this?”

“Just hold it.”

The distance between them and the navy ship is maintained by the wind in their sails. Soon, their speed pays off—it’s not long before Nerida calls out, “I see the cave!”

“Good! Now come down from there,” Shuǐ shouts back before turning to the helm. “Jack, when we’re aligned with the sandbar, port your helm!”

“The Pearl will lean,” Jack points out.

“Yes, that’s the idea, dear heart. The rest of you, grab something steady!”

If Jack has any objections, he doesn’t voice them. As he wrenches the wheel to the side, the Black Pearl careens left, the hull just barely dragging through the shallow water of the sandbar. It takes a bit of effort not to fall across the deck, and Shuǐ hooks her arm tightly around Nerida before yelling to the rest of the crew, “Haul away all!”

They take in the sails, cutting out the Black Pearl’s speed as Jack straightens them out. The ship coasts into the dim cave. Once they’re far enough away from the opening, they anchor and wait quietly for the British frigate.

Before the hour has passed, it sails by them without a second thought.

Jack turns to the crew and signals that they’re all clear. There’s an influx of cheering, quickly followed by harsh shushes. Soon enough, Shuǐ trots up to the helm, a satisfied smile on her face. “See? That wasn’t too bad.”

“That was outstanding,” Jack corrects. “When’d you learn how to do that? I’ve only done that kind of maneuver twice, and never with you around.”

“Oh, I’ve never even seen it before. I just figured it was the only way to successfully escape.”

“And successful, it was,” Barbossa states, coming up to the helm. “But how do ye suggest we get out of the cove, Miss Sao?”

Shuǐ turns to him. “Well, that’s simple. At high tide, we’ll tow the Pearl over the sandbar and set off again.”

“High tide won’t be until noon tomorrow.”

“A minor setback,” Shuǐ remarks with a shrug. “I suppose that means we’ll simply have to enjoy the sandy beaches until then. Or you can stay on the ship and sulk; whatever makes you happy.”

As Shuǐ heads back to the deck, Jack crosses his arms, impressed. “Remind me to use that trick more often. Granted, she executes it a bit better.”

“And ye say she’s not ready,” Barbossa mutters before going to the hatch.

Jack looks at him for a moment before his eyes find Shuǐ again. She’s teaching Nerida how to tie the halyards now, and she laughs as Jia passes her and makes what he can only assume is some sort of witty comment. It’s then that he comes to a somewhat harrowing realization.

Shuǐ isn’t going to be a good captain. She already is a good captain.

And that thought is still haunting him when he’s sitting on the beach, a bottle of rum on one side of him and Shuǐ sitting between his legs, her back against his chest. The sun is just starting to set; the rest of the crew is scattered further down the beach. They’re watching Nerida dash back and forth across the shoreline, scattering the gulls every time they regroup. Occasionally, she stops to investigate a particularly interesting seashell. Shuǐ nestles more into Jack, none the wiser to the turmoil in his head, and asks, “Do you think the gulls know it’s a game and they’re humoring her?”

Jack can’t help but chuckle, his fingers twisting in the strands of her hair. “I know I would’ve flown away by now, be sure of that.”

She grins as she turns onto her side and throws one of her legs over his. He adjusts in turn, untangling his hand from her hair and bringing it around her back. When Shuǐ rests her head against his shoulder, it’s a reminder of what he’s liable to lose, should he tell her the truth.

But she’s bound to overhear something eventually—the Black Pearl is only so big. And as much as Jack can’t bear the thought of her leaving, the thought of her leaving and being mad at him is even worse. If they have to part, he’d rather it be on good terms.

So, he takes a breath. “I think we should start heading to Singapore.”

Shuǐ’s eyes have closed, but her brow furrows, so he knows she heard him. “Why would we do that?”

“Well, it’s part of our agreement, isn’t it?” Jack states, trying his best to sound nonchalant. “You join my crew, I help you steal a ship. That’s what I recall, anyways.”

“Yes, when you think I’m ready to be a captain,” Shuǐ replies, almost amused.

Jack goes quiet, waiting for her to put the pieces together. Shuǐ picks her head up. “You’re being serious.”

“Surprise.”

“Already?” she asks in disbelief, fully sitting up now. “You said it would take five years, at least.”

Jack shrugs. “That may or may not have been an exaggeration. Besides, that was before I knew how quickly you could pick things up.”

To his surprise, Shuǐ doesn’t look as elated as he expected. There’s certainly a glimmer of excitement in her eyes, but her enthusiasm seems repressed. “But—I don’t know, I thought you’d want me within arm’s reach after everything that happened in Tortuga,” she admits.

“Love, believe you me, there’s not a moment in the day when I don’t want you,” Jack tells her as he brushes a loose wisp of hair behind her ear. Shuǐ presses her face into his hand, and it almost breaks his resolve. “But if I kept you here knowing you could be doing so much more out there, I’d be no better than your father. And–” it’s at this point that he starts convincing himself, too, “–it’s not like we’re going to get to Singapore anytime soon. That’s half a year’s journey. Add to that, I’ll have to get you a proper crew. You’re stuck with me for a bit longer, I’m afraid.”

Shuǐ finally smiles and leans forward, kissing him. “Lucky me.”

Jack grins back, then pulls her in for another, his hand tracing shapes on her back.

Six months. He’ll have her for six more months, at least. That’s more than enough time, and he’ll hold on to every moment.

Chapter Text

As it chances, six months doesn’t seem all that long at the tail end of it. Not to Shuǐ, anyway.

She’s standing on the deck, looking up at the stars twinkling in the black abyss above her. By Gibbs’s estimation, they’ll reach Singapore in no more than a day. The thought is filling her with more dread than anticipation.

She thought she had more time. They made a brief detour at the start of the voyage to pick Bill up from a port before they set off, and even that hadn’t been enough. Now that she’s mere hours away from her goal—what she’s had to remind herself for months has always been her goal—she finds herself wanting to step back, wanting one more week on the Black Pearl, one more week with Jack.

The inevitable is approaching. She has to leave to be a captain. She isn’t sure she wants to anymore.

“Thought I saw you up here.”

Shuǐ turns and sees Jack coming down from the helm—he must’ve just switched places with Gibbs or Barbossa. “Ready for bed?” he asks, his hand coming to rest on her back as he leans against the taffrail next to her.

“Hardly,” Shuǐ replies before turning back to the stars. “I figure bad habits will creep back in once I leave, so I need to get used to staying up all night.”

Jack rests his chin on her shoulder with a sly grin. “I can help with that.”

Shuǐ gives him a look but smiles all the same, kissing him on the lips. Jack lifts his head after a moment and takes her arm, tracing over the lines of her newest tattoo. “What’s plaguing you this time?”

She sighs, letting her shoulders drop. “I don’t know.”

Jack hums in reply. “Unlucky soul, you are, love.”

“Alright, I do know,” Shuǐ confesses. “I just don’t know what to do about it.”

Jack raises her arm and kisses the back of her hand, then looks at her expectantly as he continues kissing his way down her arm. Shuǐ gazes back before turning to face him fully and taking both his hands in hers. “If I’m being completely honest, I never figured anybody would fall in love with me.”

“Well, that’s just absurd,” Jack interjects, his brow furrowing. “Why would such a thought ever cross your mind?”

“Because not everyone finds my unruly temperament as attractive as you do, dear heart. I’d say you’re in the minority, even,” Shuǐ points out.

“A fair argument. Carry on.”

Shuǐ raises an eyebrow but continues. “Anyways, as a result, I assumed I’d never come to love anyone, either. The only thing I’d ever cared about was getting what I wanted—what I deserved. My place on the sea. And then you came along, and you swept me up in your wild adventure. But more than that, you took me for what I was and never tried to change it. And—I don’t know—I believe that’s a bit rare. The truth is, I don’t want to lose it, or you. But I still want to be out there, and I can’t think of a way to strike the balance.”

Jack doesn’t respond at first, simply running his thumb over her knuckles. Then he clears his throat, as though he’s had something to say for a while. “If that’s the case, then it’s my turn to confess.”

Shuǐ tilts her head curiously. “I’ve been…toying with an idea for the past several weeks. Months. Trying to think of a way to keep us together when we’re apart,” Jack says, and now he’s getting a bit fidgety. “For my part, I’m not sure you’ll like it.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“It’s a bit traditional, is all. And you’ve been one to rebuke that sort of thing.”

“I mean, if you think it’s a good idea–”

“I don’t, that’s why I haven’t acted upon it.”

“Jack,” Shuǐ interrupts sternly, “if you dance around it any longer, I’ll dismiss it purely off of speculation.”

Jack looks at her for a moment, then clears his throat again. “Right. Well. Here goes.”

He stands there for a bit, like he's trying to muster the courage, then slowly gets down on one knee. “Sao Shuǐ–”

“Jack, please get up.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought you’d say,” Jack mumbles, standing again.

Shuǐ lets out the breath she was holding and looks up at the sky as she tries to collect herself. She keeps a firm grip on Jack’s hands when she finally turns her attention back to him. “This is nothing against you.”

He snorts, though his expression is somewhat dejected. “How reassuring.”

“Well, fine, you first,” Shuǐ retorts. “Do you want to be married, Jack? To anyone?”

“Anyone, no, but I was willing to make an exception for–”

Shuǐ raises her brow at him once more, and Jack relents. “No, not particularly, it seems like a hassle. It’s all paperwork and propriety and ridiculousness.”

“Exactly,” Shuǐ agrees. “The institution of marriage is no different than an exchange of goods for pageantry—the dowry for a meaningless show of wealth. Having a third party bind me to you is inane. That’s a choice I can make on my own. I don’t need to be married to you for that. I have no qualms, however, with you being my husband.”

Jack nods, still looking mildly downcast—then pauses and squints in confusion. “Repeat that last bit.”

“I don’t need to be married to you?”

“You know what I’m talking about. How can I be your husband if you’re not married to me? That’s not how it usually goes.”

Shuǐ grins and steps toward him, letting their hands fall to the side. “Do my ears deceive me? Is Captain Jack Sparrow lecturing me on what’s proper and improper?”

“Oh, pardon me if I’m somewhat confused by your sudden change of heart,” Jack shoots back, though his eyes flicker to her lips.

“All I’m saying is no one would be the wiser if you just started referring to me as your wife. Think of it as another promotion.”

“But then why not go through the trouble of marrying?”

“Because, as you said, it’s ridiculousness. Now, do you want to be my husband or not?”

Jack blinks at her, then half-shrugs. “Can’t argue with that.”

Shuǐ beams as he closes the distance between them, his hand coming up to hold the side of her face. It’s remarkable how much a simple change in title can fill her with so much delight. Even without the act of getting officially married, it feels like a new pact between them—one that isn’t typical of Jack. That only makes it more profound for her.

When they eventually separate, Jack abruptly says, “Don’t call me sentimental.”

“I won’t,” Shuǐ lies, reaching for his hand. “What is it?”

“Reckon we should do something to commemorate the occasion, shouldn’t we?” he suggests. “Old-fashioned wedding night, perhaps?”

She laughs as she laces their fingers together. Then Shuǐ’s eyes land on his many rings and the tattoo on his arm—the one she’d given him.

Jack must see the gears turning in her head because he raises his brows. “You’re plotting. Should I be worried?”

“No. But I think I have a more permanent idea.”

And that’s why, some twenty minutes later, they’re back in the captain’s quarters. Shuǐ’s tattoo kit was still out from her earlier appointments, and now she’s got Jack’s left hand in hers as she pricks the needle along his ring finger. “Y’know, most people just buy actual rings,” Jack points out, brandishing his right hand.

Shuǐ briefly gives him a look before going back to work. “Sure, but this makes it more personal, wouldn’t you agree?”

He hums, somewhat vaguely. Shuǐ finishes soon after and smears gunpowder into her design. It’s a series of swooping lines, mimicking the rise and fall of the tides. “There. My turn.”

She slides her supplies across the table to Jack, who picks up the charcoal. “Should I go all the way around your finger, or just draw on the top half?” he asks.

“That’s up to you,” Shuǐ replies, placing her left hand across the table.

“Then I won’t press my luck.” Jack pauses, takes in their positioning, then stands up and shakes his head. “That won’t work.”

Shuǐ watches as he drags his chair over next to her. Once he’s settled, he moves her hand closer and starts drawing. She’s as still as she can be, not wanting to interrupt his process, as much as she wants to see the result. After a bit, Jack straightens up to reach for the needle, and Shuǐ pulls her hand away to get a better look at the design on her ring finger. “It’s a wave.”

Jack nods as he takes her hand again. “Is it supposed to be a wave?” she asks with a slight grin.

“Yes, it’s supposed to be a wave. I’m not that hopeless of an artist.”

“Just making sure.”

It doesn’t take him long to finish dotting along the outline. Jack pinches the gunpowder out of the pouch, spreads it on the tattoo, and then sits back, looking terribly proud of himself. “Well, there we go,” Shuǐ states, putting her hand next to his so they can marvel at their work. “Consider us husband and wife.”

“Best promotion you’ll ever get,” Jack remarks as he uses his other hand to tug her chair closer.

Shuǐ smirks. “And I didn’t even have to marry you.”

“No, see, you’ve done yourself in. Now I can tell everyone that you were so desperate to be my wife that we didn’t even bother.”

“Oh, don’t start a fight you can’t win, dear heart. I could just as easily say the same about you.”

Jack appears to ponder that, then leans forward, barely inches from her. “Good point. Truce?”

“Truce,” Shuǐ agrees before kissing him.

…

Shuǐ still remembers how Sao raged the day they learned Bo had stolen away to the mainland.

She’d listened from behind closed doors as he demolished his offices, glass and porcelain shattering on the walls and floors. The mothers of his other sons had attempted to soothe him while the sailors who notified him fled from his wrath.

It was the first and last time Shuǐ understood anything about her father.

She was furious with Bo, too—as a child of only twelve at the time, there were two things she couldn’t fathom. The first was why he left at all when he knew he was first in line to inherit Sao’s wealth and fleet, something she once believed they all coveted.

The second was why he left without saying goodbye to her.

As much as his anger consumed him, her father still seemed to believe that Bo would return to take his rightful place as the head of the family. The unnamed ship he’d constructed for Bo was locked away in a drydock, chained to the posts but kept in good enough condition. At first, there had been a guard posted at the drydock itself. But as the years went on, while Qiang followed Bo’s lead and Bo showed no interest in the life he’d left behind, Sao redirected his efforts into more fruitful endeavors, which meant removing the security. No one dared to try and steal the ship, anyway.

Until tonight.

The Black Pearl is anchored in the same cove that they’d hidden in the day Shuǐ and Jia joined the crew. While Barbossa remains on the ship with half of the crew, the other half—including Nerida, as Shuǐ had lost a bet against her a few weeks prior (shame on Gibbs, teaching her how to gamble)—piles into the rowboats and heads to the harbor. Nerida looks over the side of the boat, running her hands through the water. “Why are we stealing a ship, again?”

“Somebody’s asking the right questions,” Jia mutters as she pulls back on the oars.

Shuǐ gives her a look before turning back to Nerida. “Because ships are expensive and stealing a ship means we don’t have to pay for it. No one’s using this particular ship, anyway, so it’s more like borrowing. Take your hands out of the water; the sharks are going to think you’re a meal.”

Nerida grumbles in reply but keeps her hands inside the boat for the rest of the journey. When they get to the drydock, Shuǐ flags down the other rowboat. “Alright, let’s go over the plan, one last time. Jack, Mister Gibbs, Jia, Nerida, and I will be on deck preparing for departure. Bill, you’re in charge of picking the locks on the dock posts. Pintel and Ragetti, your group will open the gates to start the flow of water when you hear the signal. Only when you hear the signal. Are we clear?” she asks in a hushed whisper.

When Shuǐ is met with no complaints, she grins. “Then let’s steal ourselves a ship.”

Getting on deck is easy enough. Gibbs takes in the new style and build of the ship while Shuǐ leads Nerida to the crow’s nest. “Nerida, I want you to keep watch. If anyone starts coming toward us, tell me. Can you do that?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Nerida replies before climbing up the ratline.

Shuǐ watches her at first, but once Nerida is high enough, she doubles back to the foremast. “What’d she call you?” Jack asks with a slight smirk.

“Ma’am,” Shuǐ repeats as she begins loosening lines.

“I thought I heard a distinctive ‘uh’ sound.”

“You hear whatever you want to hear.” Shuǐ looks at the helm. “Mister Gibbs, what’s our verdict?”

“Well, it’s not the Pearl,” Gibbs admits. “But I don’t see why we’d have trouble gettin’ it out of here. It’s in tip-top shape.”

There’s a clattering on the dock. Shuǐ and Jack look over the taffrail to see Bill hauling up the last of the chains. “All set.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Shuǐ states with a smile. She heads for the bow and leans over the taffrail there, whisper-shouting to Pintel and Ragetti’s group, “We’re ready! Haul away all!”

There’s a brief pause, then a rumbling as they pull at the cranks to open the gates—and then nothing again. Shuǐ waits for them to continue, but they don’t. “Hello? That was the signal!”

“It’s stuck!” Pintel calls back to her.

Bill walks down the dock to get a closer look at the gates. “Looks like it. There’s rust all over the track,” he reports. “It’ll take some more manpower to get them free.”

Shuǐ groans. Of course. Typical of her father to care more about the upkeep of the ship than the disrepair of the dock it's stored in. “Well—just keep at it! The more strain they’re exposed to, the quicker they’ll give way. Bill, help them.”

He nods and joins Ragetti on the right side of the gate. While they continue struggling, Nerida yells down from the crow’s nest, “Miss Shuǐ!”

“What now?”

“I see lights coming toward us!”

Shuǐ looks toward the harbor. Sure enough, in the distance, there appear to be lanterns coming their way. Jia walks over to see, then frowns. “I don’t suppose they’d be willing to assist.”

“Don’t start,” Shuǐ scolds before heading for the ladder. “Jack, go help on Pintel’s side.”

She lands on the deck as quietly as she can, then rushes to where Bill, Ragetti, and the others are struggling with the wheel-like crank. “Alright, what’s the issue?”

“I’m not sure,” Bill admits, letting go of one of the handles to shake his hands off. “It won’t give, even with all of us pulling on it.”

“It’s like there’s something stuck inside those gears,” Ragetti comments.

Shuǐ looks over at where he’s gesturing. The crank turns a series of wooden gears that are meant to pull the gates open. “Yeah, every time we try…,” Bill trails off and tugs at the crank again. The gears shudder and moan, but they barely budge. “I think that’s exactly what the problem is.”

The others murmur in agreement. “And why have none of you capable sailors stuck your hand in there to get it out, yet, if that’s what you all think it is?” Shuǐ hisses, turning back to them with a slight glare.

They stare back at her, and then Ragetti clears his throat. “What if it bites?”

Her urge to roll her eyes is interrupted when there’s a loud clunk from across the way, and Pintel shouts, “We got ours loose! Ready when you are!”

“One moment!” Shuǐ yells back before looking back at Bill and Ragetti. “Do not turn that thing until my hand is clear.”

Taking a breath, she sticks her arm in the gaps between the wooden teeth. There’s not much space to move and search, and it doesn’t help any when Jia calls from the ship, “The patrol is getting closer!”

“Working on it!” Shuǐ retorts. She feels around a little more—and finally, her fingers just barely graze something stuck further back.

She sticks her arm in, up to the shoulder. With a bit of finagling, she’s able to get it loose and pulls back, triumphantly holding up a steel pocket flask. “Where on earth did that come from?” Bill wonders.

“My guess? A watchman got bored but didn’t want to be caught drinking on the job. This is the first time anyone’s opened these gates in nearly ten years—we don’t have time for this.” Shuǐ turns and calls to the other group, “Haul away!”

Finally, the gates start creaking open, and water flows into the drydock. Shuǐ meets Jack back on the ship, and as they’re unfolding the sails, she inquires, “How’d you get yours to start working?”

“Hit it really hard,” he replies, letting the rope in his hands go slack. “Mister Gibbs, set a course for the Black Pearl.”

As the water lifts the ship to the surface, it starts drifting out into the strait. The lights of the patrol start to move toward them faster, but it's too late now. The wind is at their backs. The gates are fully open, and everyone not on the ship has already piled back into the rowboats. Shuǐ feels her heart leap as they cross the barriers of the port. As soon as they’re far enough away, she turns to Jack with a bright smile.

“Congratulations,” he says, grinning at her. “You’ve got yourself a ship.”

She laughs and throws her arms around him. Jack hugs her tightly, not letting go until he sees Jia and Nerida approaching in the corner of his eye. They accost Shuǐ the moment he steps away from her, but Jia pulls away much sooner. “So, what’s next? Do we sail off into the sunset?”

“You could at least pretend you’re going to miss me,” Jack snorts.

Jia rolls her eyes at him. “Just because you’re now technically my brother-in-law doesn’t mean I have to like you any more than I already did. What I’d pay to see Desiree’s face during that announcement.”

“We aren’t leaving yet,” Shuǐ interjects, answering her question. “I can’t very well sail a ship with just you two. No offense.”

“Then where are we going?” Nerida asks curiously.

Shuǐ turns to Jack, an expectant look in her eyes. He puts his arm around her shoulders, and she would dare to call the glint in his gaze pride.

“To get what any good pirate captain needs. A proper crew.”

Chapter Text

“Oi, love, get a look at this.”

Shuǐ turns to Jack and sees him holding up a cigar box. “Keep or destroy?”

“Ugh, destroy. They’re my father’s favorite brand, and besides, I don’t smoke. You can take them if you think the crew would enjoy them.”

Jack tosses the box into a pile of junk in the corner of the captain’s quarters. “I’ll pass.”

Shuǐ smiles at him and returns to painting the details on the desk in the middle of the room. Their course is set for the nearest and largest port Gibbs could find, the perfect place to recruit experienced sailors. Half of the crew is split between the Black Pearl and Shuǐ’s ship to ensure everything runs smoothly and to give Jia some practice as first mate. Meanwhile, Shuǐ and Jack are gutting the interior—mostly the captain’s quarters—of anything with even the slightest relation to Sao Feng. She had moved her things in as they’d gone along, so now she’s working on more entertaining tasks.

Jack rummages through the open trunk on the opposite side of the room, then shuts it. “That’s it for this one. I don’t see anything else that needs inspection. The whole place is rather barren of personality.”

Shuǐ nods as she paints her last detail—a series of methodically placed brushstrokes creates a lotus flower as the centerpiece of the desk. While she leans back and puts her paintbrush behind her ear, she notices Jack crouching next to her. “What’s that for?”

“That’s what I’ve decided to call the ship,” Shuǐ states, looking at the crimson symbol. “The Red Lotus.”

“Why the Red Lotus?” Jack asks.

Shuǐ turns to face him, adjusting to sit cross-legged. “Well, they’re rather unique. Most lotus flowers bloom pink or white. Red lotuses have to overcome the adversity of their environment to thrive.”

He hums in reply and sits back on his hands. “Ah, I see. Interesting. Most people don’t put that much thought into it, you know.”

Shuǐ raises an eyebrow. “Well, why is the Black Pearl named the way she is?”

“I thought it sounded neat,” Jack admits before going to stand. “Neater than Wicked Wench, anyways.”

He offers Shuǐ a hand, and she takes it, letting him pull her up. “I’m sure the women I employ will appreciate it,” she says as she sets her paintbrush in a cup of saltwater. “Remind me how we’re going about that?”

“It’s quite simple, actually. When I’m in need of a few extra hands, I just settle down in the most popular tavern and let the interested parties come to me. I always have the men I need by the end of the night.”

“Except I’m not looking for men.”

Jack shrugs. “That’s on you, love.”

Shuǐ gives him a look but gets no chance to retort before there’s a knock at the door. “Come in,” she and Jack call out.

“Captain,” Bill starts as he opens it. He pauses, then somewhat hesitantly corrects himself. “Captains. Or is it just her who’s captain, since you’re on her ship?”

Jack raises an eyebrow. “Out with it, Bootstrap.”

“Right. We’re making our approach. Mister Gibbs says we’re less than an hour out.”

“Thank you, Bill,” Shuǐ replies.

He nods before leaving. “In that case, I’m going to clean up here and get changed. I’ll need to make a good impression, and I can’t very well do that when I’m covered in paint,” Shuǐ goes on to Jack while she’s picking up her brushes and supplies.

She puts them away in the drawers of her freshly painted desk. As she moves to the dresser, she waits for the sound of the door opening and closing again. When it never comes, Shuǐ turns around to see Jack still standing there. “That was your invitation to leave, dear heart.”

Jack looks at her with a bewildered expression. “Why would I do that? I’d miss all the fun.”

When Shuǐ narrows her eyes sternly at him, he adds, “I’ll have you know that in my system of beliefs, there’s nothing wrong with a husband watching his wife undress. One could even say it’s encouraged.”

She doesn’t reply, turning around instead and continuing to rifle through her dresser. As Shuǐ expects, mere moments pass before Jack wraps his arms around her waist from behind, his chin on her shoulder. “You’re leaving soon, and I’d like to savor as much time with you as I can?”

Shuǐ grins and reaches back to his face, turning her head just enough to kiss him. “I knew there was a better excuse locked away in there.”

“Only for you,” Jack replies before taking it upon himself to help.

…

Finding the type of crew they want might be easier said than done.

That’s what Shuǐ thinks to herself when they start walking through the harbor, her eyes scanning over every person they pass. She notices Jia doing the same, though she’s not so blatant about it. From behind them, hanging off Gibbs’s arm, Nerida remarks, “I don’t see any women pirates.”

“Nerida, not so loud,” Jia scolds, but Shuǐ shakes her head in agreement. “She has a point. Jack, are you certain this is the best place to do business?”

“‘Course it is,” he replies matter-of-factly, not looking at all fazed. “You just need to know where to look. Like right here.”

Jack stops in front of a large tavern and opens the door. Inside is a plethora of sailors. They all look like able-bodied workers—but they’re all men. Shuǐ glances at Jack, who clears his throat. “Well, maybe we can drive your audience here.”

It doesn’t seem like they have much of a choice, so Shuǐ turns to Jia and beckons her in. Jack leads them to a table towards the back of the tavern, away from all the usual ruckus. “Now, here’s how I usually go about this. As captain–” he gestures for Shuǐ to sit, which she does, “–you’ll be doing the interviews. Miss Jia, as her first mate, it’s your responsibility to root through all the attracted individuals and decide who’s worthy of the captain’s time. That way, you’re not stuck here all night. Since you’ve got the rest of us here, we’ll try to direct business to you.”

“Alright,” Jia agrees. “But that means you’re in charge of Nerida for the evening.”

Jack furrows his brow at her. “Might I inquire as to why?”

“Because we’re less likely to get approached if we have a child hanging around us, unfortunately. She likes you best, anyway.”

He stares at Jia for a moment more, then drops his head next to Shuǐ’s, murmuring, “Is that true?”

“About the approaches or Nerida?”

“Both.”

“One would assume,” Shuǐ states, kissing Jack on the cheek and smiling at him. “You’ll do alright. Just keep her occupied. And don’t let her run off by herself.”

“Bold words, coming from you,” Jack points out before returning the favor. “I’ll check your progress throughout the evening. Good luck.”

Once he’s out of earshot, Jia rests her hands on the table, drumming her fingers against the wood. “How do I decide who’s worthy of your time?”

“Actually, in this crowd, I think it’ll be easy,” Shuǐ muses. “If they’re a man, turn them away.”

Jia smiles slightly before finding a suitable place to guard the table. Shuǐ decides to keep her eyes on the crowd and search for possible crewmembers. Maybe the others could convince the ladies of the night to have a conversation with her.

However, as the sky outside grows darker and the bar grows more crowded, they have no such luck. The only people who approach Jia are men who are more often than not turned away by the point of her sword. Shuǐ tries to make eye contact with the few women who are in the bar, wives dragging their husbands home and waitstaff delivering pitchers of alcohol. But she gets mere glances in return.

Shuǐ purses her lips. Her audience must be smaller than she thought.

She decides to turn her attention to the rest of the crew across the bar, specifically Jack and Nerida. They appear to be playing against each other in a game of cards. Shuǐ watches Nerida look over her hand before throwing it down on the table with a triumphant smile. Jack eyes it, then points at two of the cards, motioning for her to switch their placement. Nerida does, and after looking them over again, Jack nods and pushes a pile of shillings toward her.

Shuǐ giggles to herself. She’s so charmed by their shenanigans that she doesn’t notice her first advancer until they speak. “Excuse me?”

She turns and comes face-to-face with what she initially assumes is a man with long hair dressed in women’s clothing. Their build is that of a man’s, after all. They look to be just a bit older than her. However, when the person speaks again, their voice has a decidedly feminine tone. “I heard you’re looking for a crew.”

Shuǐ stares at them for a moment, then remembers herself and clears her throat. “Um, yes. Yes, I am. Are you interested?”

“Oh, very!” the person exclaims, sitting across from her. “What qualifications are you looking for? I’ve been a sailor for near ten years. It’s been difficult finding work lately, but I swear I still know my way around a ship. I’ll do anything you ask of me and I won’t even ask about pay.”

Shuǐ hums in reply, still looking them over. They’re certainly enthusiastic. But she’s unsure if they’re being completely genuine, or if some prankster caught wind of their offer and decided to have fun with it. The fact that they came straight to her instead of going through Jia doesn’t bode well, either.

“Well, Jia and I—my first mate, over there,” Shuǐ says, pointing her out, “we’ve got a certain vision. We’re looking to crew women.”

She expects to be met with laughter at this point, or an incredibly offended “I’m a woman!” Instead, the person’s face falls, as though she’s just told them she’d rather be tarred and feathered than let them set foot on her ship. “Oh,” they mumble sheepishly as they stand, “I see. I mean, I understand. I’m sorry for wasting your time.”

Shuǐ quickly realizes she’s gone about decoding the stranger’s identity the wrong way and stands as well. “No, hold on a moment, you didn’t–”

But the person is already briskly making their way to the door, their head hung low as they leave. Shuǐ slumps back into her seat and runs her hands over her face with a groan. Well, man or woman, she’s just lost the only person with a legitimate interest in being on her ship. And an experienced sailor, at that.

She hears something being set down in front of her, and then calloused hands take her wrists and pull them away from her face. When she glances up, Jack is standing above her. “You looked like you needed a drink.”

“Desperately,” Shuǐ responds, grabbing the tankard of rum while Jack sits in the chair next to her. “I don’t think I’m doing this right.”

Jack snorts. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’ve seen worse enrollments.”

Shuǐ gives him a look and swirls the rum around. “I’ve only gotten one approach, and I just unwittingly turned them away.”

“Look on the bright side. No one’s thrown you through a window yet.”

When Shuǐ doesn’t reply, Jack drags her chair over and drapes his arm over the back of it. “Come now, love. Don’t lose your faith already. The night’s still young.”

“Unless the wife of a drunkard decides to do something spontaneous, I think I’m out of luck,” Shuǐ mutters.

“Aye, but maybe one will. Besides, you act like this is the only harbor in the Pacific,” Jack points out as he puts his hand under her chin and turns her face toward him. “So you might come away with no crew tonight. No matter. We’ll keep scouring each and every port until you get what you want.”

“Barbossa’ll have your head for that.”

“He’ll get over it.”

Shuǐ looks at Jack, then takes his hand and kisses it. “It just doesn’t bode well for me as a captain, I think.”

Jack raises an eyebrow. “If you think you’re going to be the perfect captain right away, I’ve got bad news for you, love. There isn’t a captain on the face of this world that can claim to be even slightly flawless.” He pauses, then adds, “Except yours truly, of course.”

That gets Shuǐ to laugh. “Oh, of course.”

Jack grins at her, and then they both look over as Jia walks to the table, stating, “Well, I’ve had quite enough of men leering at me for the night. Is there any way we could get a change of scenery?”

“You know what? I believe you have the right idea, Miss Jia.” Jack stands and offers his arm to Shuǐ. “My dear Captain Sao, I tire of these wastrels. Shall we take our leave?”

Shuǐ smiles and takes it. However, when she stands and looks around, she realizes that Nerida is nowhere in their general vicinity. “Jack.”

“Hm?”

“Where is Nerida?”

“Oh, I left her with Bootstrap,” Jack states casually, gesturing to where some other crewmates are throwing darts. “Figured it was the best move, seeing as he knows how to do all that fathering stuff.”

Jia’s eyes narrow. “He’s not over there, either.”

Jack peers around Shuǐ. After a moment, he clears his throat. “Before we start throwing around accusations, I believe this is what most parents would refer to as a learning experience.”

Shuǐ raises her brows at him before dragging them over to the dartboards. “Pintel, where’d Bill go?”

“Barbossa took him to pick up a load of gunpowder, since you're not havin’ much luck,” Pintel reports, picking up another dart without taking his eyes off the dartboard.

“And did you see where Nerida went?”

“What d’you mean? She’s right here.”

Shuǐ grabs his wrist. “Wrong. Try again.”

As Pintel looks around, Jia rolls her eyes. “Did anyone happen to notice her absence?”

“Who, little Miss Nerida?” Ragetti pipes up. “She followed the weeping bloke dressed like a lady out of here.”

“And you didn’t try to stop her?” Shuǐ asks, glaring at him.

Ragetti shrugs back. Behind Shuǐ, Jack shakes his head solemnly. “None of you should ever have children.”

Shuǐ and Jia both fix him with unamused looks, and he coughs. “Well, no point in staying here. Let’s go find her.”

Jia is already heading for the door, with Shuǐ on her heels. Luckily, Nerida’s description is unique enough that passersby are able to point them in the right direction. It also helps that Nerida comes barreling toward them only moments after they begin their search.

Shuǐ manages to catch her by the shoulders and kneels to her level. “Alright, Nerida, when we get back to the ship, you and I are going to have an in-depth conversation about running off and how it can lead to being kidnapped.”

“Someone’s trying to fight that lady!” Nerida interrupts, tugging at Shuǐ’s sleeve. “You have to help her!”

“What? What lady?” Jia questions.

“The one she was talking to earlier! C’mon, Captain Shuǐ, you have to help!”

“Nerida, Nerida, slow down,” Shuǐ assures her as she stands up. “Where is she?”

Nerida takes a breath. “Down past that shoemaker shop and into the alley.”

“Good girl. Stay with Jia and Jack.”

With that, Shuǐ takes off down the street. It doesn’t take her long to hear the ruckus the scuffle is making. When she rounds the corner of the alleyway, she sees two men with the sailor from earlier—one has her forced against the wall while the other watches on. “And you tell that warden of yours that we’re sick of seeing her vermin on our streets!”

The sailor spits in the man’s face, then cries out as he slams her head into the wall. Shuǐ raises her pistol and pulls the hammer back. “Unhand her.”

The men glance over at her, and the aggressor rolls his eyes. “Take a walk, shrew.”

Shuǐ fires a shot at the sign hanging above the observer. It shatters one of the chains, and the sign swings down, clobbering the observer in the back of the head. He curses filthily while the aggressor looks back at Shuǐ, who trains her pistol on him again. “I will not ask twice.”

He grinds his teeth but releases the sailor, who takes a quick breath. While the two men scamper off, the sailor sinks against the wall and puts her head in her hands, pulling her knees to her chest. “Are you hurt?” Shuǐ inquires, approaching her cautiously while she holsters her pistol.

“No,” the sailor responds, though her answer is slightly choked. She takes a breath, then speaks more evenly. “I’m fine. Please, don’t concern yourself with it.”

Shuǐ can’t help but feel mildly responsible for the whole thing, though. After giving her a moment to breathe, she sits down next to the sailor. “Well, since I’ve found you again, I’d like to apologize for my behavior earlier. I assure you, it was not my intention to offend. Though I now realize that not saying anything at all may have been better,” she admits. “I’m sorry for making you feel unwelcome.”

The sailor raises her head slightly, then shakes it, brushing the tears away from her eyes. “You shouldn’t be. No one really knows what to make of me when they see me at first. You at least had the presence of mind to be polite about it.”

“But it was not my place to make assumptions,” Shuǐ argues.

The sailor simply shakes her head again before resting it on her knees. Shuǐ stares at her for a moment, then asks, “What’s your name?”

“Christos,” the sailor replies, though the edge in her voice makes Shuǐ think she would rather be named anything else.

Shuǐ pauses, then hesitantly questions, “And what do you like to be called?”

The sailor raises her head again, but this time she faces Shuǐ fully. Her eyes are suddenly bright like they were in the bar, and she beams shyly. “Anthi.”

“Anthi,” Shuǐ repeats, smiling back. Then she stands, offering Anthi a hand. “Well, Miss Anthi, it is wonderful to properly make your acquaintance. I am Sao Shuǐ, captain of the Red Lotus. And if you are still interested, I would be thrilled to have you on my crew.”

“Yes!” Anthi answers enthusiastically, taking Shuǐ’s hand and hugging her once she’s on her feet. “Oh, thank you, Captain!”

Shuǐ is slightly surprised, but she hugs Anthi back. Anthi pulls away soon after, seemingly collecting herself. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s just—it’s been so long since anyone’s let me crew with them. When do we leave?”

“Well–” Shuǐ begins, but then she hears movement from behind and Jia shouting, “Shuǐ! Are you alright?”

She turns around to see Jia, Nerida, and Jack again. “Oh. Yes, it’s been taken care of.”

Jia lightly smacks her in the arm. “A report back would have been nice. All we heard was a shot, and then nothing.”

“I was a bit preoccupied recruiting the first official member of our crew,” Shuǐ retorts before turning to Anthi. “Miss Anthi, allow me to introduce you. This is Liang Jia, my first mate, Nerida, my ward, and Captain Jack Sparrow, my husband.”

“Husband,” Jack repeats.

Shuǐ gives him a look. “I said that, dear heart.”

“Oh. Well, I thought you might’ve forgotten.”

She grins at him briefly before turning back to Anthi. “I’m afraid I should have mentioned that I’m rather new to all of this. I only just got my ship the other night.”

“Today’s her first day,” Nerida adds, looking at Anthi with wide-eyed curiosity. Then, as an aside: “I didn’t know ladies could have beards. I want one.”

“Nerida,” Jia scolds before giving Anthi (who awkwardly scratches the not-so-freshly shaven stubble on her cheeks) an apologetic look. “What Shuǐ means is we’re a ragtag group and you’re the only person who’s shown any interest, so you may be in for a rough go of it.”

Anthi looks at them all, but to Shuǐ’s surprise, she doesn’t shrink away. If anything, her smile only grows brighter. “Captain Sao, I think it is incredibly fortunate that we stumbled across each other this evening. I know exactly where you can find the rest of your crew.”

Shuǐ raises her brow slightly, then turns to Jia and Jack. Jia shrugs. “We need all the help we can get.”

“Your crew, your call, love,” Jack agrees.

Shuǐ smiles before turning back to Anthi.

“Well then, lead the way, Miss Anthi.”

Chapter Text

They follow Anthi further into town, where the drinking is less and the crowds are few. It’s quiet, not as lit, so when Shuǐ looks at the sky, she’s actually able to see the stars. “Mrs. Avakian keeps her place out of sight so there’s less chance of us getting harassed,” Anthi tells her. “It doesn’t stop it completely, of course. But anyone who comes to her and doesn’t cause trouble is protected under her roof. There are plenty of like-minded women in her care.”

“Sounds a lot better than where we were at,” Jia states.

Nerida, who’s now on Shuǐ’s back, yawns. “Getting tired, bug?” Jack jokes as he pats her on the head. “We need you to hang in there for a bit longer.”

“I’m not tired,” Nerida refutes, leaning on Shuǐ’s shoulder.

Shuǐ turns to look at her, smiling slightly, though she wonders if she shouldn’t cut this short to get Nerida back to the Black Pearl. Anthi must see the thought crossing her face because she says, “She’ll be perfectly safe. Most of the girls have children themselves.”

Shuǐ looks up just as Anthi stops in front of a set of stairs leading down to a basement entrance. “Here we are! This is the bar—she uses it as an extra income to keep the sanctuary open,” she explains as she leads them down to the door. “Most of us spend our nights here.”

She knocks on the door in a specific pattern, and the sliding peephole opens. “I brought company,” Anthi reports.

The sliding peephole closes, and the door swings open. Anthi turns to them and clears her throat, her gaze directed at Jack. “You should probably wait outside, Captain Sparrow. Mrs. Avakian doesn’t take kindly to unknown men.”

Shuǐ and Jia turn to him as well, but he simply shrugs, seemingly unfazed. “Smart lady. I’ll get myself a drink elsewhere. Love, Miss Jia, carry on.”

Shuǐ looks at Jia again, then follows Anthi into the bar. In stark contrast to most bars they find themselves in, this one is filled to the brim with women. Except for one bartender, there are no men to be seen. And despite being strangers, barely anyone pays them any mind. Anthi takes Shuǐ’s arm and guides her through the room. “This way, Captain. I have some friends who will be very interested in your offer.”

“This place is wonderful,” Shuǐ states. “I would’ve killed for a tavern like this in Singapore.”

“Mrs. Avakian takes an unorthodox approach to keep her doors open,” Anthi agrees with a smile. “She gets complaints from the town council every now and again, but she has some law-educated tenants who take care of those. For the most part, we’re left alone when we’re here.”

Shuǐ smiles back, then looks forward as someone calls out, “Anthi! Where have you been?”

It comes from the table just ahead. Three women and a girl, just a smidge younger than Shuǐ and Jia, are looking at them—more specifically, at Anthi. The oldest-looking of the women is standing, her dark hair streaked with grey. The wrinkles around her face deepen when her eyes narrow. “You know you’re supposed to check with me before you go running off into town. Intan said you went looking for another pirate.”

Anthi gives the woman with shoulder-length, deep brown hair, who looks to be in her late twenties, a look. “Snitch.”

Intan grins guiltily while the oldest woman sternly says, “Anthi.”

“Alright, yes, I did,” Anthi admits. “But this time I found one. Captain?”

Shuǐ glances at Jia and hands over Nerida before stepping up to the table. “Mrs. Avakian, this is Captain Sao Shuǐ,” Anthi introduces them. “She’s already accepted me onto her ship. Captain Sao, this is Taline Avakian. She runs the sanctuary. And this is her daughter, Voski, and these are my roommates, Intan and Lujayn.”

The girl, Voski, swoops her long braid over her shoulder with a smile. Lujayn, who has an eyepatch over her right eye and looks about the same age as Intan, nods at her. “Are you looking for fresh meat, Captain?” Intan jokes lightly.

“Oh, nothing of the sort. Miss Anthi is my first member with no prior obligation to join, really,” Shuǐ states. “Jia is my sister, and Nerida is my ward, so they didn’t have much of a choice.”

Mrs. Avakian frowns slightly at that. “How long have you been sailing, Captain?”

“A little over a year, at this point.”

“And how long have you been a captain?”

Shuǐ pauses, then looks at Jia. “What time is it?”

“I don’t know. Close to 9:00.”

Shuǐ turns back to Mrs. Avakian. “Almost a day.”

Mrs. Avakian raises a brow while Intan coughs to hide a snort and Lujayn looks away to mask her grin. Shuǐ doesn’t take it to heart—instead, she grabs the closest spare chair and sits at the table. “Which is why I’m looking for companions with a common background. I don’t have the patience to crew a bunch of men who are going to question every choice I make. There are things I want to do, and to achieve them, I need sensible, trustworthy sailors. Miss Anthi thought I could find them here.”

Intan and Lujayn look at each other. “How is your plunder split, Captain?” Lujayn questions.

“Evenly,” she answers.

“No extra for yourself?”

Shuǐ shakes her head. It was not quite Jack’s policy, but he never said she couldn’t make adjustments. “I may want first pick for myself, but I don’t plan on robbing my own crew. I direct that energy to the trading companies and anyone else who decides to cross blades with me.”

Lujayn smirks appreciatively at that. “Where will you go first?” Voski asks excitedly.

“I’m willing to take suggestions,” Shuǐ says, smiling at her. “Though Jia and I were planning to visit a friend in Kiribati.”

Jia nods, then directs her attention to the table. “Alright, you’ve asked your questions, now we’ll ask ours. What are your qualifications?”

Shuǐ raises a brow, though she doesn’t interject. Jia seems to be taking this first-mate business seriously now that they have a proper audience. Intan and Lujayn look at each other once more. “Well, none of us really sails,” Intan admits. “But I like the ocean. I’ve done some stealing to survive in my younger days.”

Lujayn shrugs. “I fight. When I must.”

“I know a lot about poisons,” Voski blurts out. Shuǐ and Jia both look at her. “And medicine. The two go hand in hand, in a sense. I could help if someone gets hurt.”

Mrs. Avakian glances at her daughter, then clears her throat. “Captain, if I could have a word.”

Shuǐ watches her head for a door on the other end of the bar, then nods at the others as she excuses herself. She follows Mrs. Avakian through the door into a quiet corridor—one that she imagines is part of the larger sanctuary. “I’m sorry for barging in like this,” she apologizes as Mrs. Avakian turns around. “I hope we haven’t bothered anyone. It’s a wonderful refuge from the madness on the streets.”

“What do you want, Captain Sao?” Mrs. Avakian asks abruptly.

Shuǐ looks at her, mildly taken aback. “Um. A crew, ma’am.”

“I know that. What are you going to do with them once you have one?”

“Well, as I said, we haven’t quite decided. We’re not looking for anything specific just yet. I think we’ll figure it out on the way to Kiribati–”

“You are not the first pirate who’s come to my girls looking for free labor, and you will not be the last,” Mrs. Avakian states firmly. “I am not going to let them sail away from safety without knowing the ulterior motives of their recruiter. Too many of them have opposed and escaped brutality to now fall into the hands of someone who only values what they can do for his or her benefit.”

Shuǐ reels back at the statement. “That is not what I want to come of this,” she counters defensively.

“Well, what do you want?”

Shuǐ goes quiet, thinking of the best way to arrange her thoughts. From the bar, she hears idle chatter and soft laughter. Just like that, she knows her answer—it goes hand-in-hand with something she’s told Jack before.

“I want what you’ve done here. The sea is the only place I have ever felt I belonged. I want to share that. And I can reach more women in need this way,” Shuǐ reasons. “I can teach them skills they can use whether they remain on my ship or go off on their own. That’s why I want—why I need a crew like Anthi and the others. I can assure you, the last thing I’m looking for is cannon fodder. If I needed that, I would’ve pulled from the crowd down at the port.”

Mrs. Avakian smirks just slightly at that. Then she sets her face again. “Can you protect them?”

“Of course.”

“Will you protect them?”

“With my life,” Shuǐ promises.

Mrs. Avakian looks her up and down with what she would dare say is approval. To Shuǐ’s relief, she nods to herself. “It’d open up space, certainly. We’re in desperate need of that.”

“So you’ll let them–”

“You may continue conducting your business, Captain. But let it be known, I have methods of keeping up with my girls—my daughter especially.”

Shuǐ smiles and nods back. “I would expect nothing less, ma’am.”

Mrs. Avakian gestures to the bar before heading that way herself. Shuǐ follows her until they reenter, at which point Mrs. Avakian goes for the bartender while Shuǐ makes her way back to the table. Jia is engrossed in conversation with the others while Nerida slumps with both her arms on the table. They all look up as Shuǐ approaches. “There you are. I was just explaining the schedule of our departure.”

“We have one of those?” Shuǐ jokes as she looks at the others. “I hope that means we have some takers.”

Anthi smiles at her, then turns to Lujayn and Intan, who both stand. “I may be able to draw in a few girls I work with,” Intan states. “They’re not much for sailors, either, but they could learn. They’d at least fill out some of the space. And I’m sure there are others here that’d be interested.”

“That sounds perfect. Thank you.”

Shuǐ then turns to Lujayn, who merely sighs. “I’m only coming to make sure they don’t get into trouble,” she confesses as she jabs her thumb at Intan and Anthi.

She grins. “Then you and Jia will get along splendidly.” Finally, Shuǐ looks at Voski and her wide, hopeful gaze. “I think you should have a discussion with your mother before you do anything drastic. But we would be grateful to have you aboard.”

Voski doesn’t look deterred by it at all, and she smiles eagerly. “Oh, I’m certain I’ll be able to convince her.”

There’s a brief silence between them. Now that it’s been decided, Shuǐ isn’t sure where she goes from here. Thankfully, Nerida decides that for her, piping up, “I’m tired. When can we leave?”

The other women laugh while Jia pats her on the head. “Yes, we really should be getting you back to the ship. You all will meet us in the morning?”

“Gods willing,” Anthi replies, standing and shaking Shuǐ’s hand.

“Until tomorrow, then,” Shuǐ says as she shakes Intan and Lujayn’s hands as well. “Thank you for entertaining our mediocrity.”

Intan grins and pats her on the back. “It’s the character that counts, isn’t it?”

Shuǐ smiles, then turns to Nerida and picks her up. “Alright, scallywag. Let’s get you back to your post.”

Nerida grumbles, but by the time they’re back out on the streets, she’s fast asleep. Once Shuǐ hears her breathing slow, she turns to Jia. “Truly, I didn’t know we had a schedule.”

“Yes, that was a discussion Captain Sparrow and I had without you,” Jia remarks casually. “He has some grand send-off planned for when you get a full crew, which, as fate would have it, is sooner than expected.”

“I never heard anything about that,” Shuǐ states, her brow furrowing.

“He wanted it to be a surprise.”

“…Then why did you tell me?”

“Because I knew you would keep pestering me about how I came up with a schedule, and I’m not any good at keeping secrets,” Jia admits. “I don’t know what he was thinking, coming to me.”

Shuǐ snorts. “Fair point.”

She looks forward again, and that’s when she sees Jack leaning against the wall of yet another tavern. He looks around, then catches sight of them as well and pushes himself off the wall. “Well?” he calls over. “Do we have a crew?”

Shuǐ turns to Jia, who smiles at her. “One could say that,” Shuǐ reports as she turns back to him. “We spoke with a few of Anthi’s friends, and they seemed quite eager about the whole thing. We’ll have to see if they show up in the morning.”

Jack matches their pace as they walk past him. “So, I get one more night with you, after all? How blessed am I.”

“Blessed, indeed,” Shuǐ agrees with a grin. “But let’s get Nerida settled before you get any ideas.”

“I’m afraid I’ve been plagued with ideas since the moment you left,” Jack tells her, his hand resting on her waist.

Jia coughs loudly and abruptly, almost as though to remind them that she’s still there. Shuǐ gives her an apologetic smile while Jack chuckles. “You’ll probably be glad to be free of all this blatant courtship, won’t you?”

“On the contrary,” Jia responds, rolling her eyes. “I dread discovering how you two pine for each other when you’re apart.”

She quickens her pace after that, perhaps to give them some space. “Y’know, I’ve never had a sister-in-law before,” Jack remarks. “It’s not half as bad as everyone says.”

“That’s because it’s Jia,” Shuǐ points out. “Could you imagine having Desiree as a sister-in-law?”

Jack appears to ponder the idea and noticeably shudders. “Thank you for putting that terrifying thought into my head.”

Shuǐ laughs, bumping her shoulder against his.

Chapter Text

It’s not until later that night—much later, when the crew has gone to bed and the liveliness of the town has ceased—that all those friendly touches become bittersweet.

Shuǐ lies achingly awake by Jack’s side, her gaze locked on his sleeping face. Though it’s half-hidden in the pillows, she tries to memorize every detail. She doesn’t know when she’ll see him again after she sets off in the morning. It could be months, even years. She can’t think of anything more horrible than forgetting what the person you’re supposed to love looks like.

The thought makes her squeeze her eyes shut as she attempts to put it out of her mind. There’s no room for brooding when sunrise draws nearer with every breath she takes. She should be enjoying the time they have left, but in the silence, it’s hard to dissuade the voices in her head from lamenting made-up tragedies.

With a slight groan, Shuǐ sits up, her loosely closed blouse falling off her shoulder as she does so. Jack must not have been as sound asleep as she thought because mere moments later, he’s sitting up, too. His arm sneaks around her waist and pulls her in against his chest. He rests his head against her back and murmurs, “Don’t go yet.”

“I wasn’t going anywhere,” Shuǐ assures him, placing her hand on his.

Jack hums in response. There aren’t many words spoken between them at first; Shuǐ traces the lines of Jack’s fingers from rings to knuckles while he lays sweet kisses on her bare shoulder. The last one is placed in the crook of her neck, soft and tender, before Jack rests his chin there. “Penny for your thoughts?”

Shuǐ shakes her head slightly, pulling her hair over the opposite shoulder. “Nothing short of the usual.”

“Say ‘em anyway. Doesn’t look like either of us’ll be sleeping anytime soon.”

She looks back at him. When Jack raises his brows in reply, she leans into his embrace. “Do you think we’ll be able to stand it? Being apart?”

To her surprise, Jack makes a noise of indifference. “Perhaps. Won’t know until it happens.”

“But what if we can’t?” Shuǐ questions, now letting all the thoughts that have been pent up in her mind flow freely. “What if something happens and we need each other? It was lucky enough that our paths crossed in the first place. What if we can’t find each other again?”

Jack picks his head up just slightly to rest it against hers. “You make a fair point. But the ocean isn’t as vast as you think it is, love,” he assures her. “If it were, we’d run into half the trouble, wouldn’t you think?”

He gets a giggle out of her with that one. “Besides, we’ll never be too far from each other.”

“What a curious thing to say,” Shuǐ muses, turning her head until they’re nose to nose, their lips breaths apart. “Might I inquire as to what it means?”

Jack grins slightly. He leans away from her (which, she will admit, she pouts at) and rummages through the pockets of his coat, which is lying on the floor next to the bunk. Shuǐ watches with interest until, finally, he sits back up with his compass in hand. Jack flips the compass open, and as always, the needle instantly spins to point at her.

“It means I know where to find you,” he says, somewhat softly. “And you know where to look.”

Shuǐ smiles as she takes the compass from him, watching the needle arc to point in his direction. She leans against him again, and Jack scoops her into his lap. Once they’re comfortable, he rests his head on hers once more.

“What’s this I’ve heard about a grand send-off in the morning?” Shuǐ asks, turning the compass in her hand.

“Oh, rot my bones,” Jack mutters, his head falling to rest on the back of the bunk. “Jia told you?”

“She is terrible at keeping secrets,” Shuǐ reminds him, a half-apologetic, half-amused smile on her lips. “Why wasn’t I in on it?”

“‘Cause I figured you would try to deter me, no matter how happy it would’ve made you.”

She raises an eyebrow at that. Jack picks his head up to give her a look back. “You should consider yourself fortunate, y’know. I’m never this nice to anyone. It goes against my vows.”

Shuǐ interrupts by taking his jaw in her hand and kissing him. “Thank you, dear heart. Though I would have been just as content to keep things between you and me.”

Jack goes in for another, kissing the corner of her mouth before saying, “The crew would’ve had my head if they didn’t get to say goodbye, so I didn’t have much of a choice. Pretend to be surprised, if you can.”

She smiles and nods. “As for the festivities between us,” he continues, kissing her properly with a sly smirk, “I reckon we have a few more hours before dawn breaks.”

Shuǐ scoffs lightly at the comment. But she kisses him back, all the same.

…

The next morning, Shuǐ moves the last of her things to the Red Lotus. It’s mostly clothing she’d kept in Jack’s cabin, given they hadn’t predicted they’d come away with a full crew on their first night of looking. Nerida trots along behind her, carrying some of her own clothes. She’s somewhat quiet, which isn’t unlike her, but Shuǐ asks, anyway: “You alright?”

Nerida nods. Then, as they step onto the deck of the Red Lotus, she pipes up. “Are you going to miss the Pearl?”

Shuǐ turns to her. Nerida looks just the slightest bit downcast but still guarded, as though she’s not sure whether she’s allowed to be saddened by their departure. “Oh, Nerida, of course I’ll miss the Pearl,” Shuǐ tells her as they continue to the captain’s quarters—her quarters. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because this is your ship,” Nerida muses with a shrug. “And it’s exciting to be on your own, isn’t it?”

Shuǐ sets her clothes in an empty drawer of her dresser before turning back to Nerida. “Certainly. I need to be on my own. That doesn’t mean I won’t miss Jack and the crew.”

Nerida stares at her for a moment, then nods. “I’ll miss them, too, I think.”

“And they’ll miss you,” Shuǐ tells her, helping her put away her things before tapping her on the nose. “I’m sure of it.”

Nerida giggles. They both look up as Jia pokes her head through the door. “Captain, your crew has arrived.”

Shuǐ grins and turns to Nerida. “Shall we go say hello?”

“Yes!” Nerida exclaims, grabbing her hand and tugging her along.

Shuǐ and Jia share a brief laugh before they get to the deck. Shuǐ looks over the taffrail to see Intan, Voski, Anthi, and Lujayn, along with seven other girls whom they hadn’t met last night. She beams as she leans against it and waves to them. “Ahoy, there!”

Anthi is the first one up the gangway, and she smiles brightly at Shuǐ. “Nice day to cast off, wouldn’t you say?”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Shuǐ replies. “Who are the newcomers?”

Once everyone’s on deck, Intan begins introductions. “These three are the ones I work with—Desta, Samira, and Rani. Voski recruited Erdene, Taisa, Sabeen, and Mere.”

“They’re good friends of mine,” Voski adds with a sheepish smile. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course not. That’s half the reason Jia’s my first mate,” Shuǐ jokes. She turns to the newcomers. “Do any of you have sailing experience?”

Only Rani raises her hand. “That’s alright. It’s fairly easy to learn. Do any of you know how to use a weapon?”

All of their hands shoot up. Jia raises her brows, to which Lujayn grins. “Mrs. Avakian ensures everyone at the sanctuary is handy with a dagger.”

“Well, that makes everything much easier,” Shuǐ says with a laugh. “Jia and I are still willing to offer swordsmanship training, and I know my way around a pistol and bow if anyone wants to add that to their artillery. As long as we all have some method of protecting ourselves, you can stick to your weapons of choice.”

She starts to go on, but before she can, a pair of hands covers her eyes from behind. Shuǐ raises her elbow, but then she hears Jack hurriedly interject. “It’s just me, put that down.”

“A little warning would have been nice,” Shuǐ jokes. She can hear some of the new girls whispering, and she catches Anthi replying in a slight mumble, “Husband.”

So, Jia brought their crew into it, as well. That makes sense—she would have had to explain last night why they weren’t leaving right away. Shuǐ can hear more movement on the deck, likely the Black Pearl’s crew getting into their places. She decides to play along, as she’d promised. “And why are you covering my eyes, dear heart?”

“Only for good reasons, love, as always,” Jack responds. She can hear the grin in his voice. His hands move slightly as he turns his head, and then he removes them. “Alright, now you can look.”

Shuǐ blinks to adjust to the sunlight again, then turns around. As she suspected, Jack’s crew is standing by the main mast, expectantly watching for her reaction. “What’s this about?” Shuǐ asks as she looks at Jack, though her smile betrays her.

“You didn’t think we’d send you off without a little ceremony, did you?” he replies, still grinning. He then moves to stand with the rest of his crew. “Men of the Black Pearl and ladies of the Red Lotus, today you have the privilege of witnessing the final promotion of Captain Sao Shuǐ, your crewmate and comrade—and my wife.”

Shuǐ bites back a smile as she hears a few of the girls behind her giggle. He’s hamming it up a little, but who is she to complain?

Jack puts his hand out, and Shuǐ takes it. Then he raises the other, and she mimics him. “Captain Sao, do you swear to uphold the Code of the Pirate Brethren on pain of exile and/or death?”

“Isn’t this the Pirate Lord oath?” Shuǐ questions.

“Look, we don’t have a lot of official-sounding pledges,” Jack mutters to her. “Go with it.”

She smiles freely this time. “Whatever you say. Aye.”

Satisfied, Jack continues. “Do you swear to protect the secrets of the ocean, those we have encountered, and those that still lie in wait of discovery?”

“Aye.”

“Do you swear to prioritize the safety of your crew in times of both peace and peril?”

Shuǐ glances at her crew and nods. “Aye, I swear it.”

“And do you swear to raid, pillage, plunder, and otherwise pilfer your weaselly black guts out for as long as you may sail the seven seas?” Jack finishes.

“I wouldn’t be a pirate if I didn’t, now would I?” Shuǐ retorts with a grin.

“Right answer.” Jack turns to his men. “Crew of the Black Pearl, back to the ship. Be sure to bid adieu to the new captain and her first mate on your way out.”

Shuǐ’s brow furrows slightly as Jack starts to head for the gangway. That can’t possibly be all he has to say to her. “Where are you going?”

“Forgot something. I’ll be back, don’t fret.”

She rolls her eyes at the comment and turns to see that Bill is the first to approach them. “You would think I wander aimlessly without him around, the things he says sometimes.”

“We’ll soon find out,” Bill jokes, hugging Jia before shaking Shuǐ’s hand. “Good luck to you.”

Shuǐ hugs him as well. “And you. Give my regards to Dahlia and your son when you see them next.”

“Of course.”

The line moves fluidly along after that. Pintel and Ragetti, as always, come up to her as one unit. “God speed you, Miss Shuǐ.”

“Keep Jack from moping too much,” Shuǐ requests, shaking Pintel’s hand and then Ragetti’s. “And find yourselves a half-decent cook while you’re in port. If you’re bare bones the next time we see you, Jia will be very disappointed that all her hard work went to waste.”

Ragetti grins and nods. “Aye, miss, we will.”

Gibbs is after them, and he shakes Shuǐ’s hand with both of his. “Fair winds and followin’ seas, Cap’n. I look forward to seein’ the state of your ship and crew the next time we cross paths.”

Shuǐ smiles and half-hugs him. “As do I.”

Barbossa is the last to approach. His brow furrows when he stops in front of Shuǐ, chin jutted up so he can peer down at her. “I don’t know whether to be thankful yer finally leavin’ or to dread what’ll become of Jack without ye.”

“Don’t get sentimental on me now,” Shuǐ jokes. “I’d hate for your reputation to suffer.”

Barbossa glares at her for a moment more—then smirks somewhat appreciatively as he sticks out his hand. She shakes it. “A safe voyage to ye, Captain Sao.”

“And to you, First Mate Barbossa.”

It’s then that Jack finally reappears on the deck of the Red Lotus. When Shuǐ turns to him, she realizes he’s holding the preserved jellyfish he’d acquired the same day they freed Nerida. “Here we go,” he says proudly, brandishing the jar to her. “Something to remember me by.”

Shuǐ raises her brows, mildly amused, but takes it anyway. As if all the beads braided in her hair wouldn’t be enough. “I didn’t know we were exchanging gifts.”

Jack shrugs. “Well, you didn’t know anything about any of this, so I figured you wouldn’t have anything to give in return. It’s alright. Just means you owe me.”

Shuǐ smiles at him before realizing she does have something she could offer him. “One moment,” she states as she hands the jar off to Jia. She reaches up to the back of her neck and unties the handmade necklace she’d used to secure the golden pearl they’d found on their first raid together. When she holds it out to Jack, she adds, “Looks like I won’t owe you after all.”

Jack eyes it with clear interest, but he glances at his crew and clears his throat. “I’m not really a necklace person, love,” he states, dropping his voice.

“Fine, I’ll get you something else,” Shuǐ retorts playfully.

He grabs her wrist before she can pull away. “I didn’t say I didn’t want it.”

Shuǐ laughs as Jack tugs her into him, stealing both the bowstring necklace and a kiss. Her other hand brushes against his face, wanting to feel as much of him as she can. No matter how long they may be apart, one thing is certain. She could never forget this feeling, not for anything in the world.

Once their lips part, Shuǐ hugs him tightly. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Never doubt it,” Jack murmurs, placing one last kiss on her cheek.

This time, when they draw away, they keep moving. Shuǐ keeps Jack’s hand in her grasp until his fingers inevitably slip from hers. That doesn’t stop her from following him to the gangway, leaning on the taffrail as she watches him board the Black Pearl and rejoin the rest of his crew.

Jack turns back to her. He tips his hat with a flourish.

Shuǐ smiles softly at him. Then she gives her attention to her crew. “Loose the moorings! Heave up the anchor!” she commands. “Let’s get her underway!”

To her delight, the others begin moving swiftly. “Miss Anthi, set us a course for Kiribati,” Shuǐ instructs, turning to her. “Jia will show you how the tiller works.”

Anthi beams and nods. “Aye-aye, Captain.”

Jia is already at the helm, waiting for her. When Shuǐ goes to run up the sails, she notices Nerida is teaching Voski and Mere how to tie the halyards. Intan and Samira are laughing as they roll up the lines. Lujayn takes everyone’s bags down below while Rani explains the commands to Taisa and Erdene. It’s been mere moments since they met, and Shuǐ already feels like this is a crew of old friends reuniting for the next great adventure.

Once the sails are out and they’re leaving the harbor, Shuǐ climbs up to the crow’s nest. The Black Pearl is still at the docks when she looks back. She wonders if Jack is trying to give her a head start so it doesn’t feel like he’s following her.

As she watches the ship grow smaller and smaller while the distance between them grows greater and greater, Shuǐ slips the sleeve of her blouse down. On her arm, next to the dragon’s tooth, the piece of eight, and the pistol, is her latest tattoo. She’d finished it in the early hours of the morning.

Two sparrows, flitting around each other, locked in an eternal game.

Shuǐ grins and lets her sleeve fall again. She turns her eyes to the horizon.

Chapter Text

They make it two weeks before a pelican lands on the deck of the Red Lotus. The large bird and its sudden presence startle most of the crew. Not Shuǐ—she seizes upon the seabird and sticks her hand down its bill with little hesitation, much to the impression of Nerida and Voski. Inside, just as she hoped, is a glass bottle containing a letter.

My Love,

I am not entirely sure why I am writing this. Hector and Gibbs tell me I have been seized by melancholy spirits since you left the Pearl. I find it all ridiculous. No spirit would be bone-headed enough to take hold of this seasoned sailor. I told them as much. Unfortunately, they have barricaded me in my quarters until I present them with a letter of sorts and send it off. Something about a “beastly temper.” I suppose that is the motive for this long-winded dispatch.

I write to you from the East China Sea. We have more or less gone back to the usual. I acquired a unique trinket in Hong Kong. I am saving it for the bug. I hope she finds turtles charming.

The letter continued on the back, where the tone shifted.

I assume that the snoops will have stopped reading at this point. I am not one for prose, so I hope you will forgive me if I do not make you swoon throughout. I am afraid I miss you fiercely. My bed is frightfully cold without you to warm it. I suppose this is why companionship is a blessing and a curse. I do not know how Bootstrap survives months of this. If you ever tell him I said that, I will deny it with passion.

I may be seeking you out sooner than expected. I pray you will not hold it against me.

Give my regards to your crew, our bug, and your first mate.

Your Heart

Note – I suggest we use these monikers

in our communications to avoid interception.

No other reason.

Shuǐ is thoroughly pleased about the message (not “overtly giddy,” no matter what Jia claimed to see). She immediately pens a response, though it is not as lengthy.

Dear Heart,

I cannot express in enough words how thrilled I was to receive your letter. My first mate can, however, so I am briefly passing this off to her.

This is Jia. She almost fell off the ship trying to get to the pelican. We could also hear her giggling from her quarters while she was reading it. Bravo. I am giving this back to my sister now.

I will not comment on the accuracy of this report. There is much I have to tell you, but I would much prefer to recount it in person. I have little to say about my bed as I have not been sleeping in it since we parted ways. Perhaps we will be able to remedy that when we next meet.

I look forward to seeing how quickly you can track me down. Tell Barbossa to get himself a wife. It may improve his attitude.

Your Love

The Black Pearl is upon them within days. And from there, an unspoken arrangement formed. Shuǐ and Jack exchanged letters as often as they could. That was enough to bridge the distances between them. But at least once a month, or every other month depending on their current location and future routes, the two ships would meet near a port. More often than not, the Black Pearl chased after the Red Lotus, as Jack had better means of finding them.

When the Red Lotus was on its own, Shuǐ gave all her attention to her crew. Within the first month of them all being together, those with the least knowledge of sailing were tacking and reefing sheets and tying halyards like they’d been doing it all their lives. Nerida became fast friends with the younger girls, especially Voski, Erdene, and Samira. The others, she viewed more as mentors—she swiftly began to refer to the older crewmembers as her “aunts.” As for Jia, Shuǐ noticed that when she wasn’t busy with her first mate duties, she was often lingering by Anthi and Intan, sharing stories and observations and mirth.

Shuǐ thought it was all perfect. She had her crew, her ship, her freedom, her space to grow. But whenever she wanted or needed him, she also had Jack. And the distance didn’t seem to change how much he wanted or needed her.

She wouldn’t have had it any other way.

It took less than a year for everything to fall apart.

…

“Plant your feet,” Shuǐ instructs as she adjusts Nerida’s arm placement. “You only want to move your upper body.”

Nerida does so, her eyes narrowing slightly at the target. Shuǐ grins at her. “Keep your eyes open, too.”

“I am!”

“I know, I know. Alright, and…throw it!”

Nerida reels back and hurls the dart at the dartboard. It lands three rings from the center, but the crew still cheers for her. “Excellent job,” Shuǐ compliments. “It’s a bit like tossing knives, isn’t it?”

Nerida shrugs and flops into the seat next to her. “Yeah, sorta. I still don’t think that I like throwing knives.”

“Well, that’s fine. There are plenty of other weapons you can choose from,” Shuǐ assures her. Now that Nerida’s showing more interest in taking up piracy, Shuǐ and the rest of the crew have been slowly introducing her to combat skills. It is not typical, but better than having Nerida run into battle unprepared, Shuǐ supposes. “We’ve gone through swords, pistols, and daggers. What else do you think you might like?”

Nerida shakes her head, her low double buns bouncing as she does—Desta has been doing her hair lately and managing it much better than Shuǐ or Jia ever could, though they’ve both made a point to take notes. “I don’t know. They’re all kinda the same to me. I do like those things that make the loud noises and shoot stuff into the air.”

Shuǐ squints at her slightly. “The cannons?”

“No, these are smaller. You throw them and they make everything burst away.”

“I think she means the grenades, Captain,” Samira comments as she passes behind them with new drinks for herself, Taisa, and Rani.

Shuǐ looks at her, then turns back to Nerida. “You want me to teach you how to use bombs?”

“Yeah, those!” Nerida replies enthusiastically, her eyes suddenly lighting up. “They’re neat! They can do so much damage with one toss.”

Shuǐ stares at her for a second more before glancing up and past the next two tables at Jia. She’s leaning against Anthi’s shoulder, but she’s clearly been eavesdropping for the last few minutes. She merely shrugs, as unsure of how to navigate this as Shuǐ is.

“…Alright,” Shuǐ says finally as she looks at Nerida again. “Maybe we’ll practice with a less volatile stand-in first. The next time we find ourselves on a beach, we’ll see what we can do with the real thing.”

Nerida beams, then jumps up to hug her. “Thank you, Captain.”

“Of course. Go play cards with Voski. Make sure she doesn’t lose our winnings from the day.”

Once Nerida is out of earshot, Desta comes over and steals her seat. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“I’m not sure of anything I do with her,” Shuǐ confesses with a slight grumble, reaching for her drink. “I just try to do the opposite of everything my father did.”

Desta smiles. “It seems to be working, at least. She’s happy.”

Shuǐ nods before turning to face Desta fully. “Speaking of parents, how is your mother? Has she made it to Mrs. Avakian’s yet?”

“Yes, she has, thank goodness. I received a letter from her just before we docked in Caracas,” Desta tells her. “I’ll be sending her a portion of my wages from now on, to give her further assistance.”

“I’m certain I can employ another pelican to help you with that,” Shuǐ assures her. “I’m glad she’s safe.”

Desta smiles. “So am I.”

They’re interrupted by Lujayn appearing behind them. “Captain, I think we should start making our way back to the Lotus.”

“Boo,” Desta drawls jokingly, and Shuǐ gives Lujayn a bewildered look. “Already? I say we celebrate a bit more. It’s not every day one gets away with extorting a viscount.”

“Yes, but—Voski just lost at cards.”

“So?”

Lujayn looks around, then drops her head next to Shuǐ’s and lowers her voice. “And Miss Jia just pickpocketed the gentleman Voski lost to.”

Shuǐ turns to see Jia tossing up a coin pouch. “Oh. In that case, I believe you are right, Lujayn. Back to the ship.”

Lujayn gives her a knowing smile before looking at the others. “Captain says back to the ship!”

The stroll back to the docks is pleasant. The night air is cool, and the stars are shimmering as brightly as ever. Erdene trots ahead with Nerida on her shoulders, dodging the other sailors leaving the taverns. Jia migrates over to Shuǐ and hooks their arms together. “I saw that pelican circling again today. What’s the word from Sparrow?”

Shuǐ bites back a smile. She had indeed received another letter from Jack that morning, though she’d only had a moment to read it before they came into port. “He picked up a new crew in Tortuga. They’re setting off on their next grand escapade, it sounds like.”

“That’s it?” Jia asks, sounding somewhat incredulous. “No saccharine words to woo you?”

“You know I keep those to myself,” Shuǐ retorts, nudging her slightly. “But I can disclose that there were plenty of things written I would not want repeated in mixed company.”

Jia laughs and shoves her back. As Shuǐ is preparing to change the subject, she bumps into Mere. “Oh, sorry–”

It’s then that she realizes the whole crew has come to a stop. Shuǐ looks around Mere’s shoulder to see Erdene and Nerida on the stretch of beach next to the docks, kneeling by an unresponsive figure. Erdene looks up at Shuǐ and, noticing that they’ve captured her attention, waves her over. “Captain, you should have a look at this!”

Shuǐ’s eyes narrow with curiosity, and she brushes past the others with purpose. In the light of the moon, she sees what they’ve stopped for—a girl trapped in a net, one that looks about Nerida’s age. She appears to be unconscious, and she’s lying on her stomach. The redness of her bare back makes Shuǐ think that she has been lying here for a while, at least long enough to have been exposed to the sun at its peak.

She gestures for Nerida and Erdene to move back while she takes a dagger out of her sleeve. As Shuǐ begins cutting through the net, she calls back to the rest of the crew. “Somebody get me a jacket. Let’s get her covered and take her back to the Lotus.”

With the net sawn open, Shuǐ carefully rolls the girl onto her side. Suddenly, Erdene yelps and backs away like she’s been pinched by a crab. Shuǐ looks at her, her brow furrowed with confusion. Erdene wordlessly points to the girl’s legs.

The moonlight glimmers off the white, almost iridescent scales freckling them. Now that she’s on her side, the girl’s hair has fallen off of her neck, and Shuǐ can see three slits on the side of it. But they look natural, not like cuts. She has similar scales dotting her shoulders and arms.

Shuǐ looks up at the rest of the crew, who have gotten closer and are staring at the girl in awe. “Is that a–” Sabeen begins.

“Mermaid,” Anthi and Voski breathe in unison.

Nerida abruptly stands, eyeing the girl warily. “What do we do with her?” Jia asks after a brief pause.

Shuǐ looks back at the unconscious girl. If she is a mermaid, she’s probably not doing well out of the ocean, especially if she’s been out here for as long as Shuǐ assumes. She stands up and takes her pistol and scabbard off her belt. “Somebody hold these. And my gunpowder. And give me that jacket.”

Rani takes her things while Samira sheds her outer blouse. Shuǐ wraps it around the mermaid, then picks her up and wades into the water. She shivers just slightly as the chill hits her, but she doesn’t stop until she’s waist-deep in the sea.

With the mermaid now half-submerged, the transformation happens quickly. Her legs merge into a tail that shares the iridescent white color of her scales, with flowy, translucent fins that have pale green tips. The scattered scales on her arms and shoulders blossom into sleeker patches. Several pale dots on her face glow brightly. She finally opens her eyes with a shuddering gasp. They’re the same color as the inky water.

“You’re alright,” Shuǐ reassures her. The mermaid’s head whips toward her, and she smiles. “Hello. Bit of a rough night, wasn’t it?”

The mermaid stares at her, wide-eyed. Then she writhes out of Shuǐ’s grasp and dives into the water. Her tail fins smack Shuǐ right across the face as she does so, and she falls back, spluttering and now completely soaked. Jia and Anthi run out into the water to help her up, and they all look out across the sea. There’s no sign of the mermaid.

“Well,” Shuǐ croaks before spitting out more seawater. “This is going to make for a very amusing letter.”

…

After breakfast the next morning, Shuǐ surfaces on the deck with a freshly inked roll of parchment. The pelican is still hopping about the Red Lotus, and it obediently holds still as she places the glass bottle in the pouch of its maw. Shuǐ watches it fly away before turning to Anthi, who is approaching her. “How does she lie?”

“We’re making good time,” Anthi replies as they turn to watch the crew at work. “We should be coming into the Caribbean waters within the week.”

“And everyone has recovered from last night’s excitement, I hope?” Shuǐ inquires.

Anthi nods and leans against the taffrail with her. “Aye, they have. Funny, in all my years of sailing—as a man—I never came across a mermaid before.”

“Maybe they’re drawn to feminine energy,” Shuǐ jokes.

Anthi doesn’t share her humor, though. Her lips purse thoughtfully. “I wonder what it was doing there.”

Shuǐ looks at Anthi for a moment, then turns her gaze to the sky. She puzzled over the same thing while she was crafting her letter to Jack. It’s also strange to her that the mermaid was alone. Perhaps mermaids mature faster than humans, but she wouldn’t have let any creature that young out of her sight long enough to be caught up and hauled to shore—especially not now that she’s responsible for Nerida.

After basking in the sunlight for a while, Anthi turns to Shuǐ again. “What did you write to your husband?”

Shuǐ can’t help but smile to herself. “Nothing much. An update on our location and a detailing of last night.”

“He’ll be mighty jealous, I expect,” Anthi remarks. “Plenty of the sailors I knew always dreamed of meeting mermaids.”

“Even with the tales of them luring men to their deaths?”

“Well, they weren’t ones for self-preservation when it came to beautiful women.”

Shuǐ laughs. “I could say the same about Jack.”

Anthi grins and pats her on the shoulder before moving toward the foremast. As she shouts something about trimming the sheets, Shuǐ turns around so she’s facing the ocean. The salt spray of the waves fills her lungs. She looks down to watch the water lap against the hull.

Instead, she’s met with a familiar-looking face clinging to the side of the ship.

Shuǐ startles just a bit, but she manages not to scare the mermaid away. Now that there’s full sunlight, she can make out more of her features. Her curly, ginger hair hangs like tangled vines around her face. Her blue eyes sparkle in the dappling light reflecting off the sea.

The mermaid disappears beneath the surface before Shuǐ can say anything. Voski must’ve noticed that she was distracted, though. She’s by Shuǐ’s shoulder moments later. “What’s caught your eye, Captain?”

“I’m not sure yet,” Shuǐ admits, her eyes still searching the waves. “I think we had a visitor.”

Chapter Text

The mermaid makes several more appearances in the days following their first encounter. It’s not long before the whole crew has seen her at least once. It becomes clear fairly quickly that she wants something from them, but no matter who tries to approach her, she always abandons ship when they so much as breathe in her direction. None of them are quite sure what to do about her.

The solution comes to Shuǐ late at night in her cabin. She’s sitting at her desk, looking over her charts, attempting to narrow down Jack’s location. He seems to have an answer for everything, no matter how strange, so maybe he’ll be able to help with this. The stick of charcoal in her hand draws an arc from Tortuga into the Greater Antilles, leaving traces of black powder on her hand. A rapping at the door interrupts her calculations.

Shuǐ looks up, slightly bewildered. The sun set hours ago. There’s no reason anyone should be bothering her unless the skeleton crew is having an issue. “Come in.”

She’s less surprised when Nerida slips through the door, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Shuǐ stands from the desk, letting the charts roll up on themselves. “I thought you were already asleep. Is everything alright?”

“It’s too hot in the bunks,” Nerida says as she pads across the floor, some drowsiness left over in her eyes. “Could I sleep in here?”

“Of course. I was just about to go to bed, myself.”

A blatant lie. Shuǐ’s found, though, that it’s a bit hypocritical to preach the benefits of a good night’s sleep to someone when she rarely gets one herself. When Nerida traipses into her quarters, she has to at least try.

Shuǐ picks the chamberstick up from the table, the dried wax making her fingers greasy. The candlelight illuminates the unfinished paintings on the walls, cast in shadow as Nerida follows her to the bunk. Shuǐ sets the chamberstick on the nightstand and leans back against the pillows while Nerida crawls into her lap. “I thought you were too hot,” Shuǐ notes with a smile, moving a stray curl out of her face.

Nerida just leans against her with a light sigh and pulls the blanket over her shoulders. The Red Lotus rocks comfortably with the sea. Past the curtains, Shuǐ can see the stars shimmering through the window. Just as she reaches over to put the candles out, Nerida pipes up again. “Why is she following us?”

Shuǐ raises an eyebrow. “Why is who following us?”

“That girl. The mermaid,” Nerida clarifies, nestling closer. “What does she want?”

“Well, I’m not sure,” Shuǐ admits. She pauses, then taps her fingers against Nerida’s back. “What do you think she wants?”

Nerida makes a face. “I think she wants to eat us.”

Shuǐ laughs before she can think better of it. Nerida rises indignantly, her brow furrowed. “Captain Jack told me that mermaids lure pirates in with their voices so they can have them for dinner. We’re pirates!”

“Aye, I can’t argue with that,” Shuǐ agrees, still struggling to suppress her amusement. “But there’s one difference between us and most pirates that I think will keep us safe. Do you want to know what it is?”

Nerida eyes her curiously before nodding. Shuǐ beckons her closer, as though she’s about to tell her a deadly secret, then whispers, “We’re women.”

Nerida seems bewildered at first. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Mermaids prey on men, Nerida. I see Jack conveniently left that out of his stories.”

“…Oh. So, she won’t eat us?”

“Not unless we do something to upset her,” Shuǐ jokes. “No, I think we’re safe on that front.”

“But what else could she want?” Nerida asks. “Doesn’t she have a family? Why is she hanging around here?”

“I’m not sure. She won’t let us close enough to ask her.”

Nerida purses her lips, then leans against Shuǐ again, clearly not pleased by the lack of information. Shuǐ finally blows out the candle and shimmies down to get more comfortable. She continues tapping her fingers on Nerida’s back as she, too, ponders the mermaid’s presence and what it means for them. The poor girl seems entirely reluctant to get anywhere near them, despite her lingering near the ship. But she’s young and scared, likely fed cautionary tales of humans that have rung true, given the state they found her in. Perhaps a peer with similar views would have a better chance of befriending her.

“Nerida,” Shuǐ begins, getting a noise of acknowledgment in response, “if I asked you to talk to the mermaid, would you do it?”

There’s a silence, and then Nerida mumbles, “Why?”

“I think she’s lonely. And she might need our help. You’re her age, so maybe she’ll trust you more than us. It’s a very important task, in my opinion. What do you think?”

Nerida doesn’t say anything at first. After a moment, she yawns. “I could try. Helping girls is what we do, I guess, even the mermaid-y kind. Just promise you won’t let her eat me.”

Shuǐ smiles and looks out the window to the dark sea. “I promise.”

…

“How long do you think we should leave her down there?” Jia murmurs to Shuǐ as she looks at the portside taffrail.

Shuǐ hums in response, nudging the tiller slightly to the right. That morning at breakfast, she and Nerida formulated a proper plan to—for lack of a better word—lure the mermaid to the ship. At the moment, Nerida is relaxing in the portside rowboat, which is lowered as close to the water as possible. The hope is that the mermaid will be drawn in by natural curiosity and hopefully connect with Nerida, who, in turn, can safely coax her onto the Red Lotus.

“She has enough books to keep herself entertained. I was going to give her a break once lunch comes around,” Shuǐ tells Jia.

“And you’re certain that she won’t be eaten?” Jia questions.

Shuǐ looks at her and raises a brow. “No, Jia, I’m not certain. I wasn’t aware that mermaids existed until a few days ago.”

“It’s not the mermaid that worries her,” Intan chimes in from the deck. “She thinks a shark will grab hold of Nerida and pull her to the depths.”

Jia clears her throat, avoiding Shuǐ’s eyes. “I said no such thing.”

The crew doesn’t hear much from Nerida that morning, and Shuǐ instructs them not to check in on her exceedingly often, lest they accidentally ruin her efforts. She truthfully doesn’t know how much progress Nerida has made until she’s shaking out a sail and Nerida calls up, “Captain?”

“Here,” Shuǐ calls back as she ties the line.

“We’re ready to come up now. And we need some clothes.”

Shuǐ pauses before she replies, then looks over the taffrail. The mermaid is resting with her arms on the edge of Nerida’s rowboat, and though she startles at the sight of Shuǐ, Nerida puts a hand on her shoulder, reassuring her. “I see,” Shuǐ responds. “I’ll send some down for you.”

Nerida beams at her. After briefly consulting the crew, Shuǐ comes away with one of Mere’s old dresses and lowers it down to the boat with a bucket. Moments later, Nerida climbs up the ladder to the deck, and behind her is the mermaid, now in her human form. Shuǐ turns away from her conversation with Mere to face them. “Captain Shuǐ, this is my new friend,” Nerida announces.

The mermaid slinks behind Nerida, using her as a shield. “I see that,” Shuǐ says, moving toward them slowly. “Does your new friend have a name?”

Nerida looks at her for a moment, then turns to the mermaid, gesturing her forward. She shyly steps out from behind Nerida and takes a breath.

What comes out of the mermaid’s mouth is a garbled string of noises, all strangely familiar but none discernible. Shuǐ stares at her before glancing at Nerida, who half-shrugs. The mermaid clears her throat, and this time, she speaks a language Shuǐ can understand (though with an accent she doesn’t recognize). “Sorry. That’s what it is in Mermish.”

“Oh. No, that’s perfectly alright,” Shuǐ assures her, smiling (and mentally putting a new task on her ever-growing to-do list: learn Mermish). “Would you like to stay for lunch?”

The mermaid nods. “If I could, please.”

Nerida takes her hand and leads her to the hatch. As they watch the two go, Mere turns to Shuǐ. “So, where do we go from here?”

“We figure out if she needs help, and if she does, we offer it,” Shuǐ replies. “But it’ll take patience. If we push her, we may lose our chance. Head down to the mess; spread the news to anyone you see.”

Mere nods and heads below. She must manage to get to most of the crew because when they’re called in for lunch, they don’t bat an eye at their fantastical guest. Those who are surprised conceal it well enough. Shuǐ is ever thankful for her younger crew members, as they swiftly strike up conversation with the mermaid, leaving no room for awkward muteness. “So, what is your name?” Taisa asks. “In a human language, I mean. I’d try speaking Mermish, but I think I’d butcher it something awful.”

Nerida snorts into her mussels, and Shuǐ notices that the mermaid smiles just slightly. “Well, mermaids don’t speak the same way humans do. My mother says it has something to do with our vocal cords and lungs. We use all the sounds of the ocean to communicate. That makes Mermish difficult to convert to a human language, at least directly. My name roughly translates to Aequoreal Daughter of the Inner Seas.”

“Yeah, you’re going to need a nickname,” Voski jokes.

Anthi gives the mermaid a curious look. “You’re from the Inner Seas? Bit far from home, aren’t you?”

The mermaid nods in agreement. “I strayed too far from my pod and got lost. A boat of fishermen trapped me in the Bay of Biscay and dragged me around as an oddity attraction. They dumped me on that beach after I tried to escape.” She pauses, then turns to Shuǐ. “I followed your ship because I wanted to thank you for saving me. I’m sorry if I scared any of you—and for hitting you in the face.”

“All is forgiven on both ends,” Shuǐ promises. “If you’d like, you’re welcome to stay on the Lotus for as long as you want. We have some business to attend to in the Caribbean, but afterward, we could grant you safe passage back to your family.”

Jia rolls her eyes as she mutters, “Business,” and Shuǐ kicks her lightly under the table. The mermaid looks up at her and smiles. “I’ll think about it. Thank you.”

It would seem that everything is settled, but when Shuǐ’s gaze drifts to Nerida, she notices that she’s eyeing the mermaid with an analytical, almost puzzled expression. She doesn’t think much of it, chalking it up to Nerida still feeling unsure about the mermaid’s true intentions.

She finds out she’s both half-right and blatantly wrong later that afternoon. Shuǐ is at the helm again, watching the mermaid in the jovial circle of crewmates. Nerida comes up a little while later, but she merely nods to the others before joining Shuǐ next to the tiller. Shuǐ looks at her curiously. “Hello there. Did you see the others with your new friend?”

“Yeah.”

Shuǐ waits for something more, but Nerida doesn’t speak. She’s still watching the mermaid, and she chews on her bottom lip apprehensively. “And you’re up here and not down there,” Shuǐ continues slowly. “Might I ask why?”

Nerida glances at Shuǐ, then turns to her and drops her volume. “She’s lying. She didn’t get lost. She left home because her mum died.”

Shuǐ’s brow furrows. She looks up at the mermaid, who’s giggling about something Sabeen said. “She told you that?”

“Mmhm. I don’t know why she wouldn’t tell you,” Nerida admits. “Maybe she’s worried you wouldn’t let her stay if you knew.”

Shuǐ hums in agreement. “Do you want me to talk to her?” Nerida inquires.

“No, not yet. We don’t want her to feel like she’s being given an ultimatum. I’ll talk to her tomorrow.” Shuǐ pauses, then steps to the side. “Take the helm for me?”

That gets Nerida to smile. “Aye, Captain.”

Shuǐ pats Nerida on the shoulder before making her way to the gathering on deck. If she wants to bring up such a sensitive subject with the mermaid, she should try and get into her good graces first. “What’s got you all so lively?”

Samira clears her throat, still halfway through a laugh. “We’re brainstorming nicknames for our new crewmate.”

“Ah, I see. How’s it coming along?”

The whole group breaks out into another fit of giggles, and Lujayn takes the parchment Samira had been writing on. “Well, let’s take a look. First, we have Scales, Shimmer, Treasure, Ocean–”

“Treasure was my suggestion,” Desta interjects.

“–Aqua, Red, Flounder–”

“I said Flounder in jest,” Jia retorts as she reties one of the lines.

“–Nectarine, Clementine, Kiwano–”

“Why so many fruits?” Shuǐ interrupts.

Mere points at the mermaid’s hair. It seems to burn orange in the sunset, like the fruits on the list. “Very creative. Is that all?”

“Just two left—Coral and Cove,” Lujayn concludes.

Shuǐ raises an eyebrow and turns to the mermaid. “And do you find any of those names suitable?”

She smiles slightly, letting Shuǐ see her sharpened teeth. “Alright, so we’re not good at naming things,” Erdene admits as she throws her hands up in surrender. “We would’ve called her Mere, but we’ve already got one of those.”

Mere nudges Erdene slightly with her shoulder. “I have a name that might work,” the mermaid says.

They all look at her. “Then why’d you let us sit around throwing suggestions at you?” Rani asks.

The mermaid shrugs. “You seemed excited. I didn’t want to interrupt. And it was funny.”

“Well, she’s right about that last part,” Shuǐ agrees before turning to her. “What would you like us to call you?”

“Fae. My mother used to tell me human stories about creatures of the same name. They share a lot of similarities with us. They’re like mermaids on land. I always thought that if I were going to be human, I’d want to be Fae.”

Shuǐ smiles at Fae. “It’s a beautiful name. Much better than anything on that list. Though I was partial to Flounder.”

“Ha-ha,” Jia replies sarcastically, pushing Shuǐ lightly when she comes to stand next to her. “Now that that’s all settled, who’s making dinner tonight?”

A few hands raise, and the crew begins to disperse as talks of possible meals start up. Anthi goes to take the tiller from Nerida, and Fae meets her at the bottom of the steps. Shuǐ watches as Nerida takes Fae’s hand again, seeing that they’ve both relaxed considerably. She’s always felt mildly guilty that Nerida was stuck on the ship with no one her age for company—perhaps this will be good for them both.

But first, she has to figure out Fae’s side of things.

…

The next morning, Shuǐ makes sure she gets up to the deck earlier than the rest of the crew. She’s hoping to find Fae up there. If they’re going to talk things out, she’d prefer it not to be in the presence of the others. They bring outside women aboard fairly regularly for several reasons, but they don’t know what to expect from Fae. She needs to quash any doubts about Fae’s trustworthiness to keep both her and the crew safe.

Fae is indeed on deck when Shuǐ emerges from her quarters. Her skin and hair shine with water droplets—she must’ve gone for a swim. Her hands are moving in a curious manner over the edge of the taffrail, and it’s not until Shuǐ gets closer that she realizes why.

A medium-sized bubble of water is floating just within her grasp. Fae contorts its shape, separating it into smaller orbs before squeezing them back together again. When she moves one arm over her head, the bubble turns into an arc. Shuǐ watches her for a bit and only speaks when Fae finally turns to her. “No one told me mermaids could command water.”

Fae smiles shyly and streams the water back into the sea. “It’s a well-kept secret. I’m really not supposed to use magic in front of humans, but I don’t want to lose my skill. I hope it’s alright.”

“It’s perfectly fine,” Shuǐ states, going to close-haul the foresail. “Do you have to practice often?”

“My mother says so,” Fae replies. “Our pod doesn’t have many powerful mermaids, save for her, so I try my best to keep up.”

Shuǐ hums and straightens up. Fae’s still speaking about her mother in the present tense, so Nerida must not have told her that Shuǐ knows. She figures she won’t get a better segway than this, so she steels herself and leans against the mast. “Fae, how did you end up so far from home?”

Fae stiffens—just a bit, and then she recovers, turning to Shuǐ with a bewildered expression. “I got lost. The current pulled me away.”

“You said the fishermen picked you up in the Bay of Biscay,” Shuǐ reminds her. “That’s off the coast of France. The Inner Seas are up near Scotland. I have a hard time believing that a current could pull you that far, and a harder time believing that you don’t know North from South.”

Fae’s mouth tightens in a straight line. “I’m not upset,” Shuǐ adds quickly. “I understand why you wouldn’t trust us. But I can’t help you unless I know what I’m working with. You don’t have to tell me everything. Just the truth will do.”

Fae looks at her, but there’s not as much caution in her gaze as there used to be. It’s mixed with guilt and humility. Slowly, she walks to the mast and sits on the crate next to Shuǐ. “What did Nerida tell you?”

“Only that your mother had died.”

Fae nods, confirming it. Shuǐ waits for something more, and when it doesn’t come, asks, “Do you have any other family we could take you to?”

Fae shakes her head. “All I had was my pod.”

“And they’re not willing?”

“No. Mum was the leader of our family since she was the best magic wielder. But mermaids aren’t like humans. When they pass their magic on to their children, they lose it for good. Most mermaids wait until they’re closer to the end of their lives to repopulate—well, that’s what Mum told me,” Fae says. “She was different. She said she wanted to see me and my sisters grow up, magic or not. Even though it made her weaker. Even though it…”

Fae trails off, then turns away and clears her throat. Shuǐ gives her a moment, but Fae keeps going before she can offer any comfort. “She never would’ve been pushed out if she’d still had her magic.”

“Pushed out?” Shuǐ questions before she can stop herself.

“It was a rival pod. They forced us out of our territory. They would’ve killed the rest of us if Mum hadn’t seen them coming. She hid us away and gave herself up. My pod split after we buried her. No one could decide who was fit to lead us. Some of them went in pairs, but I broke off on my own. The fishermen caught me soon after.”

This time, Fae goes quiet and stays quiet. Shuǐ gently rests a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry for your loss. I can’t imagine the pain of losing a mother.”

“I’ve gotten better,” Fae admits, though she reaches up to wipe her eyes as she says it. “I just wish I could have her back. Everything would be alright if she were still here.”

There’s a brief silence between them as Fae sniffles slightly, and then she speaks again. “I didn’t mean to lie to you. It was just…hard.”

“You’re still welcome to stay here until we can find a solution to keep you safe,” Shuǐ assures her. “Nerida will be glad to have a friend who’s not ten years her senior.”

Fae smiles half-heartedly at her. She sits with Shuǐ for a while longer, and they trade stories about their families until the rest of the crew finally begins to surface on deck. Nerida quickly steals Fae away for breakfast, eager to share the wonders of human food with her.

That leaves Shuǐ free to schedule a crew meeting.

Chapter Text

“She’s all alone?” Desta asks. “Poor thing. No wonder she was following us.”

The crew is gathered on deck, near the stern so Jia and Anthi can weigh in on the discussion from the helm. Nerida and Fae have been sent to bed, and while Shuǐ is certain they’re not sleeping yet, she knows they’ll keep each other busy enough to drown out the voices above them. “There’s one thing that I don’t get. Why wouldn’t the sisters stay together?” Voski wonders. “I mean, I’ve seen plenty of girls without moms come through the sanctuary, and typically, that doesn’t break up the family so badly.”

“Sure, but those are human families,” Taisa points out.

Lujayn nods in agreement. “Mermaid communities seem to rely on a more hierarchical structure. Judging from what Shuǐ’s told us, I imagine that Fae’s mother didn’t have much time to solidify her rule before she passed.”

Shuǐ listens intently as the others chime in with their thoughts. After everyone has shared, she turns to the helm. “Anthi, you’re the most experienced sailor among us. Is there anything to do for Fae?”

Anthi leans against the tiller, flicking a loose strand of her ponytail out of her face. “I know as much about mermaids as the rest of you. I think the only thing we can do is what we’ve already planned. I suppose we could try to track down Fae’s sisters, but if they left her alone so soon after their mum’s death, I don’t think they’re our best option. And there’s no father?”

“She didn’t mention one,” Shuǐ says. “Unfortunately, I think Fae is right. The only thing that could fix this long-term would be to bring her mother back from the dead. And that’s impossible.”

“Well,” Anthi starts, and then she stops herself.

The rest of the crew turns to her. “Well, what?” Intan asks.

Anthi shakes her head and straightens up. “It’s nothing, honest. Just a thought.”

“The whole point of this is to share thoughts,” Rani tells her. “Go on, what is it?”

With the whole group watching her expectantly, the only thing Anthi can do is sigh and continue. “It’s just—there have always been rumors, y’know? Fountains of Youth and the like. I never considered any of that to be anything more than egotistic hope for immortality, but then again, I thought mermaids were legends till a week ago. Who knows what’s out there?”

Jia must see the way Shuǐ’s eyes light up because she swiftly interjects. “Precisely. We have no way of knowing what’s fact and what’s fiction. We can’t make empty promises to a grieving girl. We’d tear her apart.”

Voski looks at her, then leans over to Shuǐ, a small grin tugging at her lips. “There’s one who might provide us with insight. We haven’t paid your husband a visit in a while, have we, Captain?”

Shuǐ gently pushes her away as she giggles, barely containing her own smile. Indeed, as soon as Anthi mentioned legends, her mind drifted to Jack. Between his knowledge of the sea’s more bizarre secrets and his supernatural connections, he must know something that could guide them. And more than anyone, she trusts that he wouldn’t steer her wrong.

When she turns to Jia, Jia sighs dramatically. “Oh, if we must.”

Shuǐ laughs and turns back to the crew.

“You heard her. Looks like we’re going after the Pearl.”

…

Over the next few days, the crew of the Red Lotus learns a lot about mermaids.

The first morning after the decision to track Jack down, Shuǐ brings her charts to the helm, along with Jack’s last few letters. She, Anthi, and Rani are looking them over when Fae and Nerida come up the steps. “Good morning. What are you doing?” Fae asks curiously.

Nerida stands on her toes, scanning the marks Rani made on the charts. “Are we meeting with Captain Jack?”

“We’re trying to,” Shuǐ replies before turning back to Anthi. “He didn’t say what exactly he was going after, just that he’d picked up a crew in Tortuga.”

“Do you want to start there, then?”

“And sail aimlessly until we find him? We’ll never catch the Pearl; she’s too fast. I could pen another letter and see if I can get an update on his location.”

“Are you looking for a ship?” Fae interrupts, moving in closer to see the maps.

Anthi nods. “Captain Jack’s ship, the Black Pearl.”

“Jack’s my husband,” Shuǐ clarifies.

Fae looks up at her, her brows furrowing slightly. “Husband? What’s that?”

“Some guy who likes you a lot,” Nerida answers.

“Not always,” Rani mutters, and Shuǐ clears her throat to mask it. “He’s my partner. I’m sure there’s an equivalent for your species.”

“I don’t think so,” Fae responds, appearing to ponder it. “Well, not in the way a human would think. Mermaids are an all-female species.”

Anthi gives her a puzzled look. “But then how do they…procreate?”

Fae shrugs. “How do humans procreate?”

Nerida looks at her, then looks at Rani, Anthi, and Shuǐ expectantly. The three women glance at each other.

Eventually, Shuǐ clears her throat again. “Anyways. We’re trying to pin down where the Black Pearl could be. Jack has better means of finding us, so it might take a few days and a few letters to locate him.”

“Fae could help,” Nerida suggests, turning to her. “Couldn’t you?”

“Well, we don’t want to impose–” Shuǐ starts to say, but Fae interjects. “No, it wouldn’t be any trouble. And you’re letting me stay here free of responsibility; it’s the least I can do.”

Shuǐ turns to Anthi and Rani, who both shrug, then back to Fae. “Alright. How do we do this? Is it a magic thing?”

“Oh, no,” Fae says with a light giggle. “It’s rather simple. See, Mermish may be uncommon on land, but it’s the primary language of the seas. I’ll ask the locals if they’ve seen the Black Pearl recently. When you live underwater long enough, you come to recognize certain ships, especially the ones that belong to pirates. Someone will have to know the name.”

As Fae speaks, she makes her way down to the deck. Shuǐ watches curiously as she steps up to the taffrail. Then, with no warning at all, she dives into the water.

“Fae!” Shuǐ shouts in a panic, rushing down to the deck as quickly as she can, nearly falling down the steps in her hurry. When she gets to the taffrail, Fae breaks through the waves, giving her a bewildered look. “Yes?”

Shuǐ’s eyes immediately travel to the white fins below the surface. With a sigh, she leans against the taffrail. “Right. Mermaid. Sorry.”

Fae, ever so polite, does her best to mask her amused smile as she disappears under the water again. When Shuǐ turns around, she realizes that her entire crew is sporting similar expressions, though they’re not making much effort to hide them.

She raises her finger threateningly. “If any of you tell Jack about this—I don’t know what I’ll do yet, but I can guarantee you will not enjoy it.”

Thankfully, Shuǐ is not the only one to make a fool of herself around Fae. A day or so after they chart their course to Saint-Domingue, where the Black Pearl is reported to be, Shuǐ walks past the mess and overhears voices in the galley. “–but luring magic is much easier to keep up with than blue magic,” Fae states. “That’s why I try to focus on the latter. Luring magic also relies on stronger vocal cords, so younger mermaids need to use more effort with it than older mermaids. We usually wait until we come into it on our own.”

Shuǐ pokes her head in slightly—she probably shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but it’s part of her duty to ensure that everyone is getting along. “That’s fascinating,” Voski compliments. “Have you ever used it before?”

“A few times. Mostly to see what it feels like. I only used it once seriously, when I tried to escape the fishermen,” Fae admits. “It’s the reason they dumped me on the beach. Well, that, and I nearly bit one of their hands off.”

There’s a brief silence. Voski laughs awkwardly. “Really?”

“Yeah. I left it a bit mangled. Not on purpose! I didn’t know humans had such delicate skin,” Fae says, and she sounds completely genuine. “I used to bite my sisters all the time, and it barely left a mark.”

“Wow. Wish I could bite someone’s hand off. No one would ever try to pick me up again.”

Shuǐ snorts and keeps moving. As long as they’re bonding, she supposes she can’t begrudge the subject.

When they finally come into port, she realizes that Fae has been learning just as many things about the crew as they have about her. She sticks close to Nerida as they walk the streets, their arms hooked together. Shuǐ has rarely seen them apart since Fae came aboard. Nerida seems happy to have somebody she can pass all her knowledge onto, and Fae is grateful to receive it. For her part, Shuǐ is just glad the two make such an agreeable pair.

“Human architecture is so interesting,” Fae muses. “You use materials from your natural environment, same as us, but the result looks so different from its source.”

“What do mermaid houses look like?” Nerida asks.

“Coral.”

Nerida purses her lips and turns to Shuǐ. “I’m with her. Why can’t our houses look like trees?”

“Take it up with our ancestors,” Shuǐ jokes before turning to face the door to their watering hole for the night.

When they walk in, Fae immediately tenses at the sight of all the men. Shuǐ puts a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry. As far as they know, you’re human. And rest assured that I have a sword, dagger, arrow, and shot for anyone who so much as looks at you wrong.”

Fae gives her a grateful smile. Nerida swiftly tugs her away with Erdene and Taisa to the dartboards, and Jia appears by Shuǐ’s side. “I sense that you may be acquiring another ward soon.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Shuǐ replies, though she is not averse to the idea. “If Jack can direct us to a life source for Fae’s mother, that will become our new focus. I don’t want to get too attached to a girl who already has a family out there.”

“You got attached to Nerida,” Jia points out.

Shuǐ pauses, then smiles guiltily, looking toward the two girls. “Fair enough. But if Nerida ever came to me wanting the same thing, I would do everything I could to give it to her.”

“Spoken like a mother,” Jia jokes, nudging her slightly as she moves to find a table.

Shuǐ just rolls her eyes in response, her gaze soon drifting back to Fae and Nerida. Nerida is now teaching Fae how to play darts, and the two share a celebration as Fae lands her first one—despite her missing the board entirely. Shuǐ laughs to herself before going to join Anthi, Desta, and Sabeen at their table.

She’ll be the first to admit, she loves Nerida like a daughter. At least, she loves her as she believes a good mother would love her daughter, given she doesn’t have the best frame of reference for that. She’s certain she could grow to care the same for Fae. But that isn’t something she’s going to impose on either girl, even if she has heard “Mum” slip out of Nerida’s mouth now and again.

The night seems to be going on uneventfully until Shuǐ gets up from her table to make a trip to the bar. She weaves through the patrons, her pistol visible on her belt. Her vigilant eyes are scanning her surroundings for a familiar face or someone who could be looking for trouble. It’s the only reason she spies the ring.

It’s sitting in the middle of a table, blocked in by three haggard-looking sailors. Shuǐ glimpses over it at first, then pauses and tries to take another discreet glance. The design of it is quite ornate. A polished emerald sits inside the silver frame, beneath metal twisted into the shape of a dragon.

And it’s Jack’s. She’s spent enough time dealing with his hands to know that for certain.

Shuǐ doubles back to the table, taking another cursory look around the tavern. Jack is nowhere to be seen, which she expected—surely, she would’ve been accosted by him upon her entry if he were. But Jack is also far from willing to part with his belongings, so if one of his rings is here and he’s not, she can’t help but suspect foul play.

If she wants answers, she’ll have to play this cunningly. She employs her most gullible expression as she leans over the table. “What a beautiful ring.”

The three sailors look up at her. “Ah—my apologies. I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Shuǐ says as she starts to back away.

She doesn’t get far. As she’d hoped, the youngest of the three turns in his chair. “That’s alright, miss. Would you like to take a closer look?”

There it is. They’re always so easy. Shuǐ looks back, batting her lashes coyly. “Could I?”

The man who spoke to her nods eagerly while his two mates share a look of annoyance. Shuǐ returns to the table and takes the ring when it’s handed to her. “It’s such a pretty color. Where did you get it?”

“Oh, just a bit of good fortune.”

Shuǐ hums in response. He’s being purposefully vague. It probably wasn’t acquired in an honorable fashion. “I don’t suppose I could buy it from you, could I?”

The eager man opens his mouth to answer, but one of his mates cuts him off. “Unfortunately, milady, we’re gambling for it. It’s part of the pot.”

“Then will you accept a fourth?” Shuǐ asks, but she sits before he can answer and fishes her coin purse out of her belt, placing it on the table. “This should be enough to enter. I really do like it.”

The three sailors eye her coin purse, then look back at her. “You don’t even know what we’re playing.”

“Oh. What are we playing?”

The two reluctant sailors look at their eager friend, who immediately begins explaining the rules of the game. Shuǐ keeps her eyes as wide and alert as possible, and she nods attentively even though she knows exactly what the game is now—it doesn’t take a genius to understand Karma. All she has to do to win is run out of cards. But skill can only aid her so much here, so she hopes Lady Luck will be kind enough to lend her usual helping hand.

Tonight, Lady Luck is a bit more subtle than usual. When Shuǐ gets to her face-down cards, it becomes harder to sway the game in her favor. She’s had to pick up a few piles due to not having a suitable number, and now, she’s finally down to her last face-down card. The card on top of the pile is a king. That means the only way she wins is if her last card is one of the wildcards—a two, which will restart the pile from the bottom, a seven, which she can name as any card in the deck, a ten, which will burn the whole pile and make it unplayable, or an ace, the only suit higher than king. The odds are not in her favor.

The three sailors have already dismissed it as a loss; she can tell. Her hand hovers over the last card. Shuǐ takes a breath, then flips it over as she places it on top of the pile.

It’s a ten.

Shuǐ beams and claps her hands together with delight, the picture of girlish bliss. “Does that mean I win?”

“Er—I suppose so,” the eager sailor states, avoiding the glares from his mates.

They start to shove the whole pile of winnings toward her, but Shuǐ waves her hands. “Oh, no, please, I couldn’t possibly take all of that. I just want my money, this ring…”

She grabs the ring and slips it on her middle finger, then looks toward the eager sailor again. “And any information you might have on the man who owned it.”

He looks at her oddly for a moment. Shuǐ realizes she may have broken her illusion, swiftly working to recover. “Well, I don’t want to end up cursed or anything like that. Is it safe?”

Her charm works. “Oh, yes, it’s perfectly safe. The chap that left it here was chased in and cornered by some unhappy soldiers,” the sailor recounts, shaking his head with a chuckle. “Poor bloke. I don’t know if he was a pirate or what, but he’s headed to the gallows, that much is certain.”

Shuǐ’s heart drops. “Oh my. Do you think he’s–”

The rougher sailor grunts. “Not hanged yet, not with the fort in the state it’s in. Nah, they’ll put it off for another day or so, I think.”

“Is the fort near here?”

“Aye, it’s just down the way, by the shore. Why? Thinking of catching an execution?”

Shuǐ stands, shaking her head. “I could hardly stomach it. Thank you for the game.”

As she goes to leave, the eager sailor rises to his feet. “Wait—perhaps you could join us for one more round?”

“I wish I could,” Shuǐ says, turning to give him her last wily smile. “But I don’t think my husband would appreciate it.”

She makes a beeline for her crew afterward. Jia looks up as Shuǐ rests on the back of her chair. “Hello there. I thought you were getting drinks.”

“I was until I heard Jack’s been arrested.”

Jia’s brow furrows, and then her eyes flicker down to the ring on Shuǐ’s hand. “Ah. And what are we doing about that?”

“A full-on raid is too risky with Fae and Nerida around,” Shuǐ notes, her gaze traveling to the competing girls again. “I’ll go to the Lotus for supplies, then get Jack from the fort. Give me a ten-minute head start. The rest of you can go back and hide the Lotus in the cove we passed earlier.”

Lujayn’s brow knits with skepticism. “You think you’ll be able to get in and out of the fort alone?”

Shuǐ grins. “Am I not Captain Sao Shuǐ?”

The rest of the crew looks at her. Jia turns to Anthi. “You can be captain if she doesn’t come back.”

“Jia!” Desta scolds while Anthi laughs, nearly choking on her drink.

“Can I get her jellyfish jar?” Intan questions.

Shuǐ rolls her eyes and turns to leave. “Your faith in me is truly humbling. I’ll be back by lunch.”

“Tell your husband we say hello!” Erdene calls after her.

Chapter Text

Back on the Red Lotus, Shuǐ stocks up on additional shots and gunpowder. She gathers her knives into the sheaths on her wrists, legs, and belt, sticking smaller daggers inside her blouse. She sets her bow on her back and fills her quiver with arrows. The last thing she grabs is a grapnel from the hold, and then finally, she’s ready.

Or so she hopes. She’s broken into plenty of places before, but nothing so formidable as a military fort. Still, she knows this is better as a one-person job. She’ll get in, get Jack, get out. Nothing could be easier.

Except maybe a game of cards.

When she heads back out on the streets, she stays calm. Taking to the shadows here would make her look suspicious. For the time being, she has to seem as normal as possible. Luckily, most of the passersby are already fairly tipsy, so nobody questions why a woman like her is out and about this time of night, with a sword in her scabbard and a grappling hook flung over her shoulder.

There’s a lighthouse right next to the fort, providing Shuǐ with generous cover to plan her entrance. Soldiers are patrolling outside, and she can’t spy a blind spot in their routes yet. Her eyes narrow as she turns them to the sky. Though it had still been dark when she stepped off the Red Lotus, the deep blue is losing its saturation, a clear sign that dawn is due to break. Once that happens, she’ll lose her only advantage. She doesn’t have time to practice total stealth.

Pursing her lips, she takes a round tin of gunpowder off her belt. There’s a small hole cut in the top of it, with a match-cord stuffed there—one of the crew’s makeshift grenades. It won’t make for a quiet job, which she always prefers, but it might open an opportunity for her to slip into the fort.

Carefully, she slinks around to the lighthouse door, where two lamps are already burning. Shuǐ manages to get the fuse near the flame of the candle, and once it’s lit, she hurls it at an empty stretch of the beach. There’s a moment of silence, and then a boom as the bomb explodes in the sand. It’s nothing impressive, but the soldiers go running toward it, and the fort is momentarily left unguarded.

Shuǐ sprints toward the fort, slinging her grapnel as she does so. She throws it up to one of the open windows and hooks it on the ledge. After checking the stability, she uses the rope to scramble up the wall, diving through the open window as quietly as possible. She reels the grapnel back up, tosses it over her shoulder again, and starts her search for the prison cells.

Her masterful distraction provides her with further help—the soldiers inside the fort have all charged to the front gates, giving her free roam of the halls and stairwells. The sun is peeking over the horizon when Shuǐ finally hears voices coming from the lowest floor of the fort. Her eyes narrow as she continues descending the steps, one hand resting on her pistol.

The voices become clearer as she gets closer. One that she assumes belongs to a guard barks, “On your feet, thieving scum. You shouldn’t keep the gallows waiting.”

The response that comes is quick, witty, and oh so painfully Jack. “I doubt the gallows will mind if we delay the execution. See, the last time I met her, I wasn’t exactly a gentleman. I’d like to let that smooth over if you please.”

Shuǐ flinches in sympathy as she hears a sharp smack, sounding as though Jack’s just been hit upside the head. She moves silently along the wall, eyeing his hat from a pile of other confiscated weapons as the other guard grunts, “Save your breath. Lord knows you’ll need it.”

“Now, wait a moment, lads. You don’t want to be doing anything you’ll regret,” Jack warns.

There’s a beat of silence, and Shuǐ knows that despite the soldiers’ hostility, he’s caught their attention. Jack goes on, “If—God forbid—I’m hanged today, you are going to be at the mercy of some very frightening people. Believe you me, you do not want to get on their bad side. Why don’t we all do each other a favor and part ways before this turns ugly?”

One of the guards scoffs. “Oh, right, sure. You can’t fool us. Who’s going to miss a sorry bastard like you?”

Shuǐ flings one of her daggers from her hiding place behind the wall. It hits the guard that spoke in the side of the neck, and while he chokes, she moves into the doorway and shoots the other guard in the shoulder before he can raise the alarm. Jack steps away from the guard as he hits his head on the wall and crumples to the ground.

Then he turns to Shuǐ, that beautifully crooked grin on his face. “Perfect timing as always, love.”

“No obligation to help, dear heart?” she asks, putting her pistol back on her belt as she steps over the bodies.

Shuǐ barely gets within arm’s length of Jack when he hooks his chained-together hands over her, tugging her in. “What, when you were doing such a good job?” Jack replies smoothly as his lips ghost over hers. “I would never want to steal your thunder.”

She smirks back, but then they hear a commotion from upstairs. Shuǐ ducks under Jack’s arms and starts pawing through the pockets of the two guards. “We don’t have much time. That shot must’ve drawn some attention down here. We have to find the–”

There’s a jingling sound behind her, and Shuǐ turns to see Jack brandishing a ring of keys. She can’t help but scoff with amusement. “Well, you didn’t need me after all, did you?”

“Aye, but the gesture is greatly appreciated,” Jack tells her. He proceeds to begin unlocking all the cell doors, completely neglecting his own restraints. Shuǐ gives him a curious look but swiftly follows suit. She uses her sword to shatter the locks of the rest of the cells on her side.

Once all the prisoners have been freed, Jack finally hands the keys over to Shuǐ. “Y’know, they’ll arrest you for anything here. Drinking, bartering, existing. Partisan court system, if ever I’ve seen one. How’d you know I was in a bind, anyway?”

Shuǐ unlocks his cuffs and holds up her left hand, the dragon ring resting on her middle finger. “Ah, clever girl,” he compliments, reaching for it.

“First,” Shuǐ interjects, grabbing his wrist with her other hand, “what do you say?”

Jack looks at her for a moment, then lowers his chin slightly, batting his eyes at her. “I missed you.”

“That’ll do,” Shuǐ says with a smile.

She’s barely pulled him in when a deafening BAM rings out, and the whole fort shudders. They both stumble, but Jack steadies them when he hits the wall, his hands holding Shuǐ’s shoulders firmly. He shoots a dirty look at the roof. “Can’t they hold off for a moment? We have things to do.”

Shuǐ laughs and draws away from him. “There’ll be time for that later. Let’s get out of here—and don’t forget your hat.”

Once Jack has retrieved his effects, they head up the stairs, their swords drawn. The walls of the fort rattle again as they reach the first floor. “That sounds like cannon fire,” Shuǐ remarks before disarming a soldier coming around the corner. “Lucky us, somebody else had an assault planned this morning.”

“It’s not the Lotus?” Jack questions, blocking another soldier’s charge and using the momentum to throw him down the staircase.

Shuǐ shakes her head while she knocks the butt of her sword against a soldier’s head. “I thought it’d be risky for all of us to come with Nerida and Fae.”

A fourth soldier appears from behind a closed door, lunging at her. Jack grabs Shuǐ’s wrist and tugs her back to him, slashing the soldier’s arm. He drops his sword, and Jack kicks him into the wall before turning to Shuǐ again. “Fae? Don’t tell me you’ve picked up another one.”

“Fine, so I have a soft spot,” she retorts as she sheathes her blade. She draws her pistol at the same time as Jack draws his, each shooting an officer coming from opposite ends of the hall. “But it’s not like I’m running a floating orphanage.”

“Not yet,” Jack corrects with a grin before spinning her around so they’re back-to-back.

Expecting more enemies, Shuǐ hooks her pistol on her belt and takes her bow off her back. But as she nocks an arrow, she realizes the commotion in the halls of the fort has ceased, even though there’s still a mêlée outside. Jack glances back at Shuǐ, finding it as suspicious as she does. “Walk. I’ll cover you,” she tells him.

He nods, cautiously moving forward. Shuǐ keeps her back against Jack’s while her eyes search the doorways for any sign of an attacker. The cannons keep sounding from both inside and outside the fort. Just as they get to the end of the passage, there’s a burst of shouting that comes barreling toward them.

Shuǐ pivots to face front again, pulling the bowstring back—and then she quickly slackens it when she sees Barbossa, Pintel, Ragetti, and a group of unfamiliar but certainly buccaneer faces. Jack lowers his cutlass, his brow furrowing. “Oh. What are you lot doing here?”

“Gettin’ you,” Barbossa responds. He turns to Shuǐ. “What are ye doin’ here?”

She jerks her head at Jack. “Getting him.”

“But we had a plan!” Pintel gripes.

Ragetti nods disappointedly. “It was a really good one, too.”

Shuǐ and Jack look at each other. “Well, I could leave and let you do it anyway,” she suggests.

“Nay, there be no point. He’s already out.” Barbossa turns to the crew and orders, “Back to the Pearl, ye snivelin’ worms!”

Shuǐ and Jack follow the rescue group back to the docks. The Black Pearl is out in the water, firing relentlessly upon the fort to give them cover. The prisoners that they’d freed provide a distraction as well, as some of the more violent ones decide to take their vengeance upon the tyrannical soldiers. They reach the ship safely, and once Shuǐ’s feet are on the deck, she calls out to the crew, “Still the cannons! Weigh anchor and hoist the mainsail! The Red Lotus is waiting for us in the cove just east of here.”

Before she can get any more orders out, Jack grabs her wrist and pulls her to him, their lips colliding. At first, Shuǐ blinks in surprise. But she’s missed him as much as he’s clearly missed her, so she can barely spare a thought for the rest of his crew—she kisses him back just as passionately, her hand holding the side of his face.

Jack has just enough sense not to go too far, moving back while his fingers twirl in the loose strands of her hair. “Finally. What were we waiting to do that for?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea,” Shuǐ replies, a smile breaking across her face.

“Nor I,” he says as he slips the dragon ring off her finger and returns it to its rightful place. Jack then turns to his crew, and Shuǐ realizes she wasn’t mistaken—while she sees some friendly faces, there are plenty of new members that she doesn’t recognize. “Men of the Black Pearl, you have the honor of being in the presence of the venerated Sao Shuǐ, Captain of the Red Lotus, known more surreptitiously as my wife.”

Shuǐ rolls her eyes, slightly embarrassed. “Don’t pay him any mind. Captain Sparrow sings my praises too highly.”

“Only because you can’t reach the pitch,” Jack replies with a slight smirk, kissing her hand before heading for the helm.

She watches him with a growing smirk but finds herself distracted by another familiar voice. “You heard Captain Sao! Get the Pearl underway at once.”

“Bill!” Shuǐ exclaims as she turns around to see him smiling at her. “When did you get back from Liverpool?”

“Jack picked me up in Tortuga with the rest of this lot,” Bill answers, accepting her hug. “I haven’t been on the ship long.”

“I noticed it’s not the usual crowd,” Shuǐ states as she turns to scan over the newer crewmates. “No Gibbs?”

Bill shakes his head. “Nah, the Royal Navy got to him before Jack did. Employed his services for a voyage from England in the next few months or so. Some newly appointed bloke in London heading to Jamaica. They’ve got to do an awful lot of preparations.”

She smiles sympathetically. “Poor soul. How are Dahlia and your son?”

“In good health. Dolly sends her well wishes. Is Nerida still doing alright?”

“Yes, she’s coaxed us into letting her experiment with weaponry, so her spirits are higher than ever. We also brought a girl her age onboard when we were in Aruba, so she’s got a friend to keep her company. We should see if we can get the two of them and your son together one of these days. He’s only a couple of years older than them, isn’t he?”

Bill nods, but before he can say anything else, Jack calls down from the helm. “Love, I’ll need your directions to the Lotus’s hiding place.”

“I shouldn’t keep you from him any longer,” Bill jokes, patting Shuǐ on the back. “He’s been pining again here lately.”

“Noted,” Shuǐ snorts.

It doesn’t take them long at all to reach the cove (and Jack truly doesn’t need directions; he just wants an excuse to keep Shuǐ close to him). The Red Lotus is anchored there, but some of the crew are on the beach, including Nerida and Fae. When the Black Pearl pulls up next to the ship, Shuǐ comes to the taffrail and shouts across to Jia, “I told you I’d be back before lunch. What are the girls doing?”

Jia covers her ears, and a mild explosion rings out from the beach, blasting sand into the air. Jia brings her hands down again. “Learning how to use bombs.”

“Well, that’ll help me sleep at night,” Shuǐ says wryly while Jack appears behind her, his hands around her waist. “We’ll meet you on the beach.”

“The beach?” Jack questions as she turns around.

Shuǐ grins. “Your men aren’t going to decline a bit of reveling, are they?”

“No, surely not. I’m just wondering what you’re expecting us to do. The beach isn’t very private, is all.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“I would agree with you if I knew what that meant.”

Shuǐ lightly pushes his shoulder and goes to pass him. “You can have me to yourself once the sun sets, dear heart. For now, you have to share.”

Jack takes her hand before she can leave, spinning her back around and bringing her to him again. “You of all people should know I’m not good at that.”

“Will you not do your wife a kindness and try?” Shuǐ asks, another smirk tugging at her lips.

“I could ask the same of you for your husband,” Jack counters. He cuts off any witty remark she might have by kissing her once more, only for them to be interrupted by a clearing of the throat.

Jack looks up, and Shuǐ turns to see Barbossa standing behind them, his brow raised. “If you two are so desperate for each other, ye could spare the rest of us by takin’ this to the captain’s quarters and gettin’ it out of yer systems,” he states dryly.

“What, are married people not allowed to kiss anymore?” Jack chuckles. “We’ll behave ourselves, don’t fret. Get the gangway set.”

“You’re the one who needs to behave,” Shuǐ corrects.

Barbossa huffs as he turns to walk away. “Funny, I was just tellin’ him the same thing.”

Shuǐ turns to Jack again, giving him a look. “Don’t sweat over the details. Come along, I want to meet this newest charge of yours.”

Still, she can’t help but smile as Jack leads the way to the shore. Nerida has been watching the Black Pearl since it floated in, and she beams and runs toward them when they make it onto the shore. “Captain Jack!”

“What’s all this?” Jack asks, picking Nerida up. “This isn’t the bug I know. Aren’t you supposed to be shorter?”

“I grew! That’s how these things work!” Nerida retorts with a giggle.

“Aye, but most little hellions don’t sprout up in just three months.” Jack’s eyes narrow slightly. “Well, that’s odd.”

“What is?”

“I think you have something right…here.”

As Jack speaks, he reaches for Nerida’s ear. When he brings his hand away and opens it, there’s a small jewelry pouch sitting in his palm. “There we go. Wonder if this might be the cause.”

Nerida gasps and takes the pouch from him. She opens it while he’s setting her down and takes out a few glass and jade beads like the ones braided into his and Shuǐ’s hair. “Are these for me?”

“They were behind your ear,” Jack says with a shrug. “I figure they are.”

Nerida beams at him before running over to Fae again, showing her the new treasures. Shuǐ leans over to Jack as she watches them. “Were those the cause of your unjust incarceration?”

“Nothing so plain. You know I only let myself get arrested for the dramatics,” Jack reminds her.

Shuǐ senses there’s some untruth to that, but she lets it slide when she sees Nerida pulling Fae along to meet them. Fae looks slightly hesitant, and her grip on Nerida’s hand stays tight. “Captain Jack, this is Fae,” Nerida introduces. “She’s my new friend.”

Jack tips his hat, and Fae’s eyes suddenly brighten. “You’re the one who likes Captain Shuǐ a lot?”

Jack pauses, then gives Shuǐ an accusatory pout as he puts his hat back on. “Well, I would say it’s a bit more than liking.”

“That was Nerida’s description of you, not mine,” she clarifies before turning back to the two girls. “We’ll be bringing everyone onto the beach to relax, so finish up your practice. We don’t want anyone getting hurt.”

“Aye, Captain,” the two girls chorus. While they run off again, Shuǐ sighs and runs a hand through her hair. “Weapons training is going to give me gray hairs, I’ll warn you of that now.”

Jack copies the movement, moving some of the stray pieces behind her ear. “Oh, what’s the harm in them chucking around a few bombs?”

Shuǐ turns to him, narrowing her eyes slightly. Jack clears his throat. “Then again, what do I know? Let’s do lunch.”

…

Later in the evening, the air is filled with laughter and friendly chatter as they all sit around a fire, trading stories about where they’ve been and where they’re going. Pintel is in the middle of an amusing anecdote about an octopus that got stuck to Ragetti’s face a few weeks back. “So I says to him, I says, ‘Just pull it off!’ And we tug as hard as we can, but it won’t budge. Then he’s blabbering about something, and we haven’t got a right idea what, ‘cause the bloody monster is covering his face—tell ‘em what happens next.”

Pintel nudges Ragetti, who chuckles and leans in closer to the fire. “I start tickling it.”

The two crews roar with laughter. Shuǐ smiles to herself, walking back from getting another drink to her place next to Jack. He’s braiding the beads he’d gotten Nerida into her hair, and Nerida asks, “Did it finally let go?”

“Yeah, it did!” Ragetti remarks. “But then it stole me eye. That was a whole new predicament.”

Barbossa grunts. “Aye, an entire day wasted on nonsensical disasters.”

“Those days always make the best stories, though, Hector,” Shuǐ points out, elbowing him slightly. “Remember the parrotfish?”

“We don’t talk about the parrotfish,” Jack interjects.

Shuǐ grins at him. “C’mon, it was hilarious.”

“Not to me.”

“I want a pet octopus,” Nerida says abruptly. “Can we get one?”

“Where would we keep it?” Jia inquires jokingly. “In a pail of saltwater on the deck?”

Nerida shrugs and looks expectantly at Shuǐ. “You can have a pet octopus when you have your own ship,” Shuǐ tells her.

Nerida purses her lips, then slowly turns to Jack, who’s just finishing up the braid. “What’re you looking at me for?” he asks. “Your captain already said no.”

“She’s not the boss of you, though.”

Jack pauses, then glances at Shuǐ. She coolly raises her brows back.

“I’m going to do the wise thing and remove myself from this situation,” Jack states, moving Nerida off his knee and standing. “Hector, you’re in charge.”

Shuǐ smirks slightly before turning back to Nerida. “No pet octopus. They’re messy.”

“Fine,” Nerida grumbles as Shuǐ stands as well. “Can I have a pet parrotfish?”

“We’ll talk about it in the morning. Jia’s in charge.”

Jia turns to Shuǐ as she starts following Jack. “Who’s more in charge, me or Barbossa?”

“If it matters to you that much, you two can duel over it,” Shuǐ replies with a wave of her hand.

After a moment, she hears Jia say to Barbossa, “You’re in charge.”

Shuǐ smiles to herself as she catches up with Jack, hooking her arm with his. Jack takes her hand and kisses the palm of it. Once they’re far enough away from the fire, where the light cannot reach and the shadows close around them, she asks, “Your ship or mine?”

In the pale moonlight, she sees a wide grin break across his face.

Then Jack makes a run for the Red Lotus, and Shuǐ is pulled along with a peal of laughter.

Chapter Text

Jack is the only man allowed on the Red Lotus, for a few reasons.

First, he’s the captain’s husband. It comes with certain benefits.

Second, all the women on the ship are familiar with him, through meeting him themselves and Shuǐ’s stories. They’re aware that he wouldn’t try anything on pain of death, so they don’t mind him hanging around.

But mostly—and he agrees with this—it’s because the Red Lotus is infinitely more private than the Black Pearl. Shuǐ’s crew is more than willing to give the two of them as much space as they need when they’re together. Shuǐ truthfully isn’t sure that Jack’s seen much of the ship lately, aside from her quarters.

That’s where she wakes in the early hours, pulled from slumber by the sloppy kisses that Jack is leaving on her collarbone. Shuǐ hums sleepily as he places the kisses lower and lower, untying her haphazardly secured blouse. She’s not planning on stopping him—it’s certainly not the worst way to be awoken—but when she opens her eyes and moves her arm away from her face, she catches sight of the newest addition to her collection of tattoos. The mermaid tail reminds her of the motivation she’d lost sight of.

“Jack,” Shuǐ murmurs, and he makes a noise of acknowledgment, “I have business with you.”

“I have business with you,” Jack replies teasingly before kissing her stomach.

Shuǐ raises her head just enough to give him a look. “Not the pleasurable kind, dear heart. Actual business.”

“Can it wait? I’ve already started.”

Her brow furrows at him. “Jack.”

“Love,” Jack responds with the same dour tone, meeting her eyes. When he sees Shuǐ isn’t backing down, he sighs. “Alright. Tell me your business while I continue with mine. If you can hold out that long.”

Shuǐ reaches up to playfully swat at his head, but Jack slides further down where she can’t reach, refocusing his efforts on her thighs. She scoffs lightly at him and lets her head fall back onto the pillows. He won’t win so easily. “Did you get my last letter? The one about the mermaid?”

Jack hums again, though Shuǐ gets the feeling that she doesn’t have his full attention. Well, if that’s the case, there’s no reason to sugarcoat the truth.

“Fae is the mermaid I rescued that night.”

She feels Jack’s teeth sink into the meat of her upper thigh—not enough to break the skin, but certainly not as gently as she’s used to. “Ow!” Shuǐ exclaims, pushing herself up on her elbows. “Jack!”

“My bad,” he says quickly, and he lays another kiss there as an apology. Sensing that the mood is probably not in the right place anymore, Jack pulls himself up and rests his head on Shuǐ’s stomach.

Shuǐ glares slightly, but Jack has mastered the look of pitiful innocence. If she scowls at him for too long, she’ll start feeling sorry for him. “As I was saying,” Shuǐ continues, “Fae’s a mermaid. Rivals of their territory killed her mother, and her family split. That’s how she ended up with us.”

“Alright. What’s any of that got to do with me?” Jack asks.

“We’re looking for a long-term solution. Fae is staying on the Lotus for now, but I imagine she’ll grow tired of us eventually. She belongs in the sea. The only thing that I could see fixing this for her would be bringing her mother back from the grave,” Shuǐ muses. “I was hoping you could point us in the right direction.”

Jack looks up at her for a moment, then shakes his head, drawing invisible circles on her hip. “Sorry, love. Even I don’t know how to dodge death. Believe me, you’d be the first to know if I did.”

“But surely you’ve heard stories.”

“Oh, plenty. Magic elixirs, cursed curios, there are all sorts of things out there that could do the job. But I wouldn’t go after any of them with a motive so pure. The easiest solutions always take the most away from you.”

Shuǐ purses her lips and nods. She figured as much. If immortality were easy to grasp, people wouldn’t be so desperate for it.

But after a moment, Jack goes on. “There is someone else who might be able to help you. Now, I tell you, she’s not one for charity work. You’ll need something to offer her, and I do believe her prices have risen in the last few years.”

“I’ll try anything,” Shuǐ responds. “I couldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t.”

Jack studies her expression before taking her hand and opening her palm. “Her name is Tia Dalma. Her place of business lies on the banks of the Pantano River in Isla Juana.”

He traces a line from Shuǐ’s hand onto her stomach, then up her chest, as though drawing on a chart. “It won’t be long from here. I imagine you’ll get there in the space of a few days. And, uh, don’t tell her I sent you.”

Shuǐ raises an eyebrow. “What did you do?”

Jack scoffs, offended. “Why do you always assume it’s me who turns the blood bad?”

She waits for his answer. “I’d rather not say,” Jack admits.

“Wonderful.”

Jack pushes himself up enough to be face-to-face with her. He leans forward until their noses are almost touching. “Just don’t mention me, and I’m sure she’ll be willing to assist. I know how hard that is for you, so try your best.”

“Oh, hush up,” Shuǐ retorts, stopping him with a kiss. Jack chuckles into her, and when she pulls away, she says, “Don’t you have business to attend to?”

“Thank you for the reminder, love,” Jack replies with a grin before diving beneath the sheets.

…

They come up to the deck when the sun has risen, only to find both of their ships ready to cast off. Jia is calling out orders to weigh anchor while Barbossa yells from the Black Pearl’s deck, “We best be goin’, Jack!”

Jack waves him off before turning to Shuǐ. “I’m afraid this is where we part ways, my dear Captain Sao.”

“I’ll catch up with you soon enough,” she assures him, pecking him on the cheek. “Which reminds me; you never told me what you’re after this time.”

“All in good time, love. I can promise it’ll make an excellent tale.”

“I look forward to hearing it, Captain Sparrow.”

They kiss, and Jack kisses Shuǐ’s hand once more before crossing the gangplank. She walks to the taffrail, leaning her arms against it and calling after him. “Don’t sulk around the ship while I’m gone.”

“How dare you?” Jack replies, putting his hand over his heart. “I have never sulked a day in my life.”

Bill, listening in from the mizzenmast, makes eye contact with Shuǐ and mouths, “Yes, he has.”

Shuǐ grins at him before turning back to Jack. “Of course, dear heart.”

Jack offers her a final smirk as he turns his back. With that, Shuǐ looks at her own crew. “Set sail for the Pantano River. Jack says we’ll find our solutions there.”

A few of the women look at each other, but everyone holds off on their questions until the Red Lotus is out of the cove and underway. Like Shuǐ anticipated, Fae is the first to approach her, a puzzled expression on her face. “What’s in the Pantano River?”

Shuǐ finishes tying the halyard she has in her hand, her gaze traveling to the rest of the crew. They’re awaiting her answer as well, the explanation she has to give without getting anyone’s hopes up. Jia, catching her eye, raises her hand in a signal to take it slow.

“A woman named Tia Dalma,” Shuǐ tells Fae. “She may have a way to fix your problem.”

Fae tilts her head slightly. “How?”

Shuǐ puts a hand on her shoulder. “That’s what we’re going to figure out.”

If Fae is put off by the lack of an explanation, she doesn’t show it. She smiles gratefully and nods. As she’s walking back to help Erdene and Lujayn with the mainsail, Shuǐ looks to the helm and notices Nerida eyeing her with that familiar analytical expression.

Shuǐ sighs and beckons her toward the bow. Keeping secrets from both girls isn’t a good move. Nerida will understand the circumstances, she’s sure.

And as expected, once she explains the full story, Nerida looks at her thoughtfully. “So, this witch lady might be able to bring Fae’s mum back?”

“She might,” Shuǐ emphasizes. “We don’t know yet.”

“And we don’t want to make Fae sadder than she already is,” Nerida muses. She leans against the taffrail, her head resting on her arms as she stares at the ocean. “I get it. I won’t tell her. I hope she can, though. Fae really misses her family.”

Shuǐ feels a slight pang of guilt. She’s well aware that the efforts they’re making to reunite Fae with her family are much greater than any efforts they made for Nerida. Granted, that was when she and Jia were still on the Black Pearl and couldn’t exactly go where they pleased. But she wouldn’t be surprised if Nerida started harboring resentment toward the whole thing.

She approaches the topic as delicately as possible. “Do you miss yours?”

Nerida looks at Shuǐ with surprise, as though it’s a question she never expected to be asked. After a moment, she slowly shakes her head, her braided hair swinging around her face. “Sometimes. But not as much as Fae misses hers. I don’t remember my family, honestly. I didn’t get the chance to know them. I can’t tell you anything about them, and I know they’re probably all dead, so it’s hard to miss them. Besides, I’ve got everyone here, and you–”

Nerida cuts herself off as she turns to Shuǐ, seemingly unsure of continuing. However, after a moment, she presses on. “Well, whenever I think of my mum, I just think of you. You pretty much act like one. To me, at least.”

Shuǐ’s eyes widen with mild surprise at the divulgence. “I know that’s stupid,” Nerida says quickly, looking away again.

“No, it’s not,” Shuǐ responds, putting a hand on her shoulder. Nerida glances at her, clearly taking her reassurance for pity. In that case, it’s Shuǐ’s turn to share. “Nerida, in truth, I took you in as family from the very beginning. You’re not mistaken; I have been acting like a parent, mostly on purpose. I love you like you’re my own. Blood doesn’t determine that, not for me. I’ve just—well, I wasn’t sure what you thought about the whole thing. I’ve never wanted to encroach on your comfort.”

It is not Shuǐ’s most eloquent speech, but it does the job. Nerida picks her head up, her eyes shining. “So,” she starts hesitantly, “since we both know now…could I call you Mum from now on?”

“Only if I get to introduce you as my daughter to everyone we meet,” Shuǐ jokes. “Of course, Nerida. If that’s what you want.”

Nerida beams at her and hugs her tightly. “Thanks, Mum!”

With that, she dashes off to the hatch—to share the news with Fae, Shuǐ imagines. She lingers by the taffrail, wondering if she’s always teared up this easily. Jia, who’s climbing down from the crow’s nest, notices and strolls over to her. “What was all that about?”

Shuǐ turns to her with a smile. “I’m a mother now.”

Jia stares at her, then slowly looks her up and down. A slightly horrified look crosses her face. “You’re–”

“I’m not pregnant, Jia. Nerida just asked if she could call me her mom.”

“Oh, thank the gods. The last thing we need on this ship right now is a baby.”

“You don’t think I know that?”

“With the way you and Jack act around each other? No, I do not.”

…

The mouth of the Pantano River is large, large enough to accommodate the Red Lotus when they first approach. But when Shuǐ looks through her spyglass, she sees dense tree cover ahead that would trap the ship in its roots and branches. She purses her lips—that alters their plan slightly.

Intan comes up next to her, a rolled map under her arm. “Foreboding, isn’t it? Looks like we’ll have to take the boats.”

Shuǐ shakes her head and collapses the spyglass. “Best not. I don’t think Tia Dalma will take kindly to a whole crew of strangers descending upon her, women or not. Fae and I will go from here.”

“Are you sure? You won’t have us for backup.”

“Let’s hope we don’t need it,” Shuǐ replies, patting Intan on the back. She comes down the steps of the helm, looking over the rest of the crew. “The swamp is too thick for the Lotus to get through. Anchor here; Fae and I will take the rowboats.”

She then turns to Fae, who has a small satchel slung over her shoulder. “You have the scales?”

Fae opens the satchel to show her a collection of glittering, iridescent scales. They were lucky enough to catch Fae during her shedding season, so she has plenty to spare. Shuǐ hopes they’re as rare a commodity as she expects. “Alright. Off we go, then.”

“Why can’t I come?” Nerida complains, following them to the taffrail. “Fae is going!”

“Well, someone needs to stay and protect the Lotus, don’t they?” Shuǐ replies. “What do you think you’ve been doing that weapons training for?”

Nerida looks at her for a moment but seems to accept that explanation, nodding determinedly before dashing away to stockpile her armada. While Fae climbs down to the boat, Shuǐ beckons Jia and Anthi over. “If we’re not back by dawn, come after us.”

Anthi looks at the setting sun. “That seems like a long time to wait. How about midnight?”

“We don’t know how long it’ll take to get to her,” Shuǐ points out. “Wait for dawn.”

“If you say so, Captain.”

Shuǐ nods and smiles confidently before following Fae to the boat. Once they’ve untied the lines and are rowing toward the swamp, Shuǐ notices Fae watching the rippling water longingly. “Would you like to swim next to me?” Shuǐ asks.

Fae looks at her, broken out of her trance. “Could I?”

“I don’t mind.”

Fae smiles, sets the satchel of scales on her seat, and dives into the water without another word. When she comes up, her tail swishes behind her, reflecting the slivers of light still visible over the horizon. Her eyes have the same purple, almost pink hue as the sea. Fae disappears beneath the surface again, and Shuǐ watches the flash of her white tail as she darts under the rowboat.

When Shuǐ goes to row again, she feels a drive from behind, as though someone is pushing the boat along. She turns around and sees Fae’s hands on the stern. The mix of her powerful tail and her magic is moving the boat along much faster than Shuǐ could on her own. “Look at that. Where were you during our last siege?” Shuǐ asks humorously.

Fae giggles in reply. As they traverse further into the swamp, the quiet night gradually flourishes with noise, pierced by the trilling of nocturnal birds and the whirring of bothersome insects’ wings. Lightning bugs flicker in and dim out of existence around them, rising from the plants as they’re disturbed by the wake of the boat. Larger animals splash in the water as they come to inspect the intruders, but to Fae’s credit, she never bats an eye at them.

Finally, in a clearing of vegetation, Shuǐ catches sight of a treetop shack illuminated by a singular lantern. It perfectly fits its mysterious and overgrown environment. Shuǐ ties the boat to the small dock there while Fae comes out of the water and pulls the sleeves of her dress up. She eyes the shack warily. “Are we sure this is safe?”

“No,” Shuǐ answers honestly, patting her on the back. “Welcome to the pirate’s life.”

Fae laughs good-naturedly, though it’s clear she’s still nervous. She’s slow coming up the ladder to the door, and Shuǐ takes her hand, squeezing it. Then, steeling her own nerves, she knocks.

No one answers. Shuǐ peers through the cloudy glass but sees no movement inside. “No one’s home. What a shame,” Fae says quickly. “We’ll have to come back another day.”

Shuǐ gives her a mildly amused look and tries the doorknob. The door swings open with ease.

When she turns back to Fae, she looks mildly disappointed. “Oh. Yay.”

The inside of the shack feels quite a lot larger than the outside, but the space is taken up by all manner of things. Trinkets and jars sit on cluttered shelves. Candles are arbitrarily placed on almost every surface, casting the room in a fittingly spooky glow. More jars hang by ropes from the ceiling. Fae scoots closer to Shuǐ, eyeing the large yellow python nestled on the perch next to her with unease.

It's certainly a strange sight to behold. Nonetheless, Shuǐ sets her face and calls out, “Tia Dalma! Are you here?”

She gets no answer, except for a stale draft that wisps through the holes in the rotting boards. “Can we leave yet?” Fae asks.

“We mean no harm,” Shuǐ continues, ignoring Fae’s question. “We’ve come to do business with you.”

But again, there’s no sign of her. Shuǐ glances at Fae, whose eyes are darting about the shack. She can’t keep them here for long—she worries about what it’ll do to the poor girl’s heart. There has to be something she can do or say to coax the enigmatic woman out of her sanctuary.

Shuǐ hopes that whatever Jack did was petty and not too grudge-worthy. “I’m Jack Sparrow’s wife.”

At first, the usual silence is the only reply. As Shuǐ turns to Fae to say yes, now they can leave, she hears footsteps creaking from the stairs across the room.

Preemptively, Shuǐ steps in front of Fae, shielding her. The footsteps gradually grow closer and closer, until a woman comes into full view. Her brown skin glows warmly in the candlelight, and her dark hair is twisted like Desta’s. There are black dots tattooed under her captivating eyes. Adorning her pale red, slightly tattered dress are voodoo charms and shells, with others are draped around her neck on necklaces. Though she may not be considered conventionally attractive by the masses, she’s easily one of the most beautiful women Shuǐ’s ever seen.

She’s starting to realize why Jack didn’t want her to mention him. “Tia Dalma, I presume.”

Tia Dalma nods, moving fluidly around the hanging baubles to the table that sits in the middle of the room. Shuǐ notices that, thankfully, there’s no hostility in her gaze—merely intrigue. “You are acquainted with Witty Jack?”

“We can call it that,” Shuǐ replies as she approaches Tia Dalma. She feels Fae’s hand knot in the back of her blouse. “I hope that doesn’t affect my dealings with you.”

Tia Dalma laughs, walking around the table to her. It’s a sound that feels somewhat familiar, but Shuǐ can’t place it. “A man can only be what he is. Witty Jack is no different,” Tia Dalma states smoothly, her hand coming under Shuǐ’s chin and raising it slightly. “So, he chose you?”

Shuǐ gets a chill in her spine at the sensation of Tia Dalma’s nails on her neck, but doesn’t have a chance to respond. “You will do,” Tia Dalma murmurs, almost to herself. Her hand stays under Shuǐ’s chin while her gaze drifts away, to where Fae is peering out behind Shuǐ’s arm. “This is the mermaid?”

Fae jumps in surprise for both of them. Shuǐ keeps her cool, merely narrowing her eyes with curiosity. “Fae. Did Jack write ahead?”

Tia Dalma glances at her. Her eyes linger on Shuǐ’s, but she only gives her a mysterious smile before she finally moves away to her disorderly shelves. “You come seeking resurrection.”

Fae’s brow furrows as she looks up at Shuǐ, who nods. “We do.”

“A method with no strings attached.”

“That is our preference, yes.”

Tia Dalma takes a worn book from a drawer. As she flips through it, dust drifts from the yellowed pages. While she reads in silence, Fae tugs on Shuǐ’s arm. “Resurrection? You don’t mean…”

“You said everything would be right again if we brought your mother back,” Shuǐ replies in a hushed tone. “I’m exploring all our options.”

Fae stares up at her, her now deep-blue eyes searching Shuǐ’s face—for what, she can’t say. Tia Dalma speaks again, grabbing their attention. “What was the cause of the death?”

Shuǐ looks at Fae, who clears her throat and steps slightly into view. “She was attacked and killed for her territory by rivals.”

“Anything else?”

“Um, she was weak. She didn’t have much magic left in her,” Fae reports.

Tia Dalma turns another page, finally settling on something. She’s silent for a moment, then asks abruptly, “Are you sure you know what you want?”

Shuǐ frowns slightly. She doesn’t know exactly how to answer that. “Quite sure. Why do you ask?”

Tia Dalma hums, her voice like the gentle flow of the tide rising on the shore. “You have chosen a most difficult path. Your request entails a journey of hardship and suffering. There are other ways to bring the dead to life, easier ways.”

She pauses, then abruptly and sharply claps the book shut.

The sound is like a gunshot. It makes Shuǐ flinch.

Tia Dalma takes a few steps toward Shuǐ, her gaze boring into her. “But mark this, Sao Shuǐ. There is a great price to be paid for convenience.”

Shuǐ looks at her before turning to Fae again. For a moment, there’s something familiar in her gaze, something that reminds Shuǐ achingly of herself. It wants to trust, but it’s still guarded. Fae is expecting the disappointment; she’s prepared for Shuǐ to say this isn’t worth all the trouble.

Shuǐ refuses to be the source of that misery. She takes the satchel of Fae’s scales and turns back to Tia Dalma, more resolute than ever. “A life lived with strings attached is not a life worth living. We will not accept anything but the best.”