One for Sorrow
One bead, small and white, unadorned. Long ago, the ornament had a decoration of its own, a little face etched and dipped with black ink. No proper face; a grinning skull. Mortis. One bone bead, for a young boy's mother. Mam, who always knew what to say, what to do, how to get out of this one. The skull has been worn away by a habit he doesn't know he has. When he's in a tight spot, he rubs the small white bead, and Mam whispers to him. She still knows best.

Two for Joy
Two wooden splinters, wound into his hair with rough linen thread. One is old, carefully braided into a naïve captain's locks a decade ago. The second is a new addition, entwined by a wiser Jack, a celebration of claiming the Pearl once more. "Trust in your self... trust in your ship... trust in the sea... Trust in yourself... trust in your ship..." He murmurs the litany with each turn of thread and hair around the sliver of decking, and if his first mate should hear, and turn away with tears in her eyes... well, she's a woman, and prone to such.

Three for Girls
Scarlet is fire in his hair, Giselle is burnished sunlight. Scarlet is a ruby, small, but precious, nicked from a prince who was too far from home. Giselle is a topaz, larger, heavier, prone to scratch him from time to time. That would please her, he thinks. Scarlet and Giselle are gemstones, set in brass—shiny, appealing to the eye, slipping fast from the heart. Anamaria... Anamaria is a precious metal, too, a lead shot hanging heavy from a braid. She tugs at his scalp, reminds him every day, he still owes her a ship.

Four for Boys
The brass button is tied by a glinting, golden thread, stolen from the brocade of a newly promoted Commodore's jacket. Every pirate needs an enemy; Norrington's the best he's ever seen. The drilled coin was a gift—"for luck." Good man, Gibbs. Every Captain needs a man he can trust. Bootstrap was a good man, too, and the snip of boot leather woven in reminds him that, when it came down to it, "good man" wasn't enough. The coffee-brown wooden bead, same shade as Will's eyes, is for the man who was enough. Every pirate needs an ally like Will Turner.

Five for Silver
He'd crossed her palm with silver and asked for a charm. His interest lay not in predicting the future, but swaying it a bit in his favor. The orange is for long life, blue, good health, green, wealth untold. She offered him purple, for love. He laughed, and reached for the silver instead. Uncanny luck, she'd said. He grabbed a second. She'd given him gold, too, said it conferred the Lord's blessing on him. Jack made sure to lose that one right quick. No sense calling himself to the Lord's attention, especially with the heathen gods already taking an interest.

Six for Gold
Barbossa, Bo'sun, Twigg, Koehler, Pintel, Ragetti. Six names. Six red beads. Six receipts for a debt paid in blood. They'd all betrayed him, of course, but he refuses to give over his entire head to the people who've done him wrong. If ever he had a doubt that the Fates smile on Captain Jack Sparrow, it vanished when Koehler's bony fingers wrapped around his throat, and he learned that the gold that cost him his Pearl would be bringing her back into his hands. All he'd lost in the interim was ten years as a walking corpse. Lucky Jack, indeed.

Seven for a Secret, Never to Be Told
He is a man of many secrets, and he makes no secret of it. Not knowing drives them mad, and they make up their own stories. The earring with three long chains—his mother was a gypsy. The Celtic knot—married to a chieftain. The tooth—from his son in Port Royal. The bit of rope, from the sea turtles. A black and red seed shows his status as a voodoo sorcerer. The spine—well, everyone knows he's half sea creature. The shell's a gift from his mermaid lover. He hates the stories, trying to live up to them. He'll keep that secret, too.