The Second Swann ---///--------

Chapter 28

A LONG awaited chapter. I apologize for the delay, truly! The next chapter should be published on Friday! Thank you for the growing support. 

Having completed Jack's final orders around the ship, Charlotte and Will both retired on a bench on the lower deck. Will pulled out a sharpening stone to care for his sword, which then he passed over to Charlotte so she could do the same with her own.

The sound of the stone scraping the surface of metal and the silence between them, reminded Charlotte of their evenings at the Smithy. Before she was taught how to use a sword, she was taught how to care for one first.

She remembered how frustrating it was, to make sneaking trips from the manor after the sun had set, risking to get caught by one of the servants. Upon arrival at the smithy, breathless and pale faced from stress, Will would be standing there, greeting her with a sharpening tool in hand.
She would feel so infuriated by the sight. 

Within time, she realized the importance of forming a bond with the sword. She learned the importance of caring for it. She learned the way it felt in her hands, the weight of it, and balance of the hindle and blade. Within the many nights of constant care, she learned the value of the bond between the sword and its master. 

The ship rocked gently as it sailed, the masts creaked in harmony with the gulls squalling above.

She was on a ship, and it was something she had always hoped she'd never have to do again.

She blew at her sword, brushing the residue of the stone off its shiny surface, then handed the stone to Will. As he began to continue skillfully shaving down the rough edges of his sword, Charlotte watched, realizing how grateful she was to be here with him. It's already been a journey, but having him truly helped her feel the strongest. Will paused to look up at her to see her watching then greeted her with a brief smile before returning his attention to his sharpening.

Charlotte's head felt hot from the sunlight, and she raised a hand to wipe her brow. That's when she spotted something in the corner of her eye. It was the captain. She shielded her eyes with her hand to get a better look.

He was facing away from her, both eyes trained upon the horizon, just before the rail. His eyes were squinted as if in deep thought. Charlotte read an assertive and proud air of someone in command around him, with his shoulders pulled back and his chin raised. Yet, there was an odd casual element about him as well, with the way he slouched back, as if without a care in the world. He was a strange combination of wildness and wisdom. His attire was ragged and faded from exposure to both the sea and sunlight. His hair threaded into thick chords. She admired the beads, and shells and bones and other various trinkets hanging off each cord and wondered if they held significance to the pirate. After thinking that, she immediately dismissed it as a silly thought. The man was a pirate after all, and pirates were notorious for theft and greed.

She remembered seeing his sketched out profile for the first time and it was so striking to her little thirteen year old mind. She'd often have nightmares about them...and yet she was still so undeniably fascinated. There were other posters of other pirates, other captains, and all appeared to look exactly as they were depicted in books. This pirate, however, this conspicuous Captain Jack Sparrow, had always remained fresh in Charlotte's memory. Perhaps it were those two beady, devious eyes, gleaming, even within parchment sketches, with a hint of mystery and adventure, luring her in...

The captain suddenly turned around and they met each other's eyes momentarily. Then, he began to approach them, but it was clear it was without intentions of striking up a conversation for he passed by to check on the deadeyes of the ship, ensuring everything was in order.