Not All Treasure is Silver and Gold
Chapter 2

Oh, speed you, white-winged ships of mine, oh, speed you to the sea,
Some other day, some other tide, come back again for me;
Come back with all the memories, the joys and e'en the pain,
And take me to the golden hills of boyhood once again."*

--John McGroarty
from "The Port o' Heart's Desire"

~~~~~

For the better part of two days, Jack had set his oratory skills to schooling Will in the ways of ships, the names of riggings, and the tying of knots. Manning a small boat like that on which he'd sailed into Port Royal was a job
which Jack could easily handle alone. Manning a ship the size of the *Interceptor* with two was a challenge.

That did not truly bother Jack--he enjoyed a challenge, and Will was at least a good student. The boy was clever and good with his hands and he was attentive, but what was more he had a knack for the work, which Jack privately considered to be the result of his father's blood in his veins.

"Furl the jib and shake out the foresail!" Jack practically barked the order with the same customary intensity he would have used to order a whole crew. Considering he was only speaking to one young man, it was really a bit
superfluous, but it was force of habit, and he could not seem to stop himself.

Will looked up immediately at the sound of the older man's voice, over the past two days grown used to the rather barked orders, and now reacted to them nearly without thinking. Putting aside the rope he had been practicing his knots on and jumping up at once to carry out the pirates command.

Sparrow kept a close eye on Will now, as he always did, and not just to make sure that the boy carried out his orders correctly. Jack had once sent the young blacksmith up into the bowsprit to secure some lines and had scarcely managed to draw breath until the boy's feet were firmly on the deck once more. Will was surefooted enough--he'd learned as much when he fought the boy--but as
he'd watched him climbing up into the rigging, Jack suddenly felt an absolutely irrational pang of worry imagining the young man falling hard to the deck below.

He hadn't sent Will into the rigging so much after that, at least not to places up so high. Instead, he had taught Will how to steer the ship, which the boy needed to learn anyway so that they could take turns at the helm, and had climbed the rigging himself. His knots were sounder anyway, he reasoned.

But even when the tasks that Jack assigned (and there was no shortage of them) were not dangerous, or even very difficult ones, the pirate found his eyes on the boy. He watched the sea much, too, and the clouds in the blue sky above, and sails billowing slightly when the wind shifted, but his gaze was increasingly drawn to young Mr. Turner.

If he allowed himself to admit it, Jack enjoyed looking at the boy.
He liked the way Will moved, confident and graceful. He liked the way the sweat-dampened little tendrils of hair clung against the nape of his smooth neck
and the flash of his throat as he breathed. The sight brought the occasional unsettling, crooked and knowing smile to the pirate's lips, and if Will had caught the expression (Jack could not say for sure if he had or not) it
would no doubt have left him wondering what secrets Sparrow must be keeping.

*A pretty thing to look at, but no more than that,* Jack had reminded
himself on occasion. In some ways, despite his father's blood, Will was indeed -not- a pirate, and Jack was very much aware of it.

For his part, the young man had grown to have a new kind of respect for the elder man over the past couple of days. At least in his skill at sailing and running a ship. He had never really imagined before how much work it was to run a ship of this size, before he had stepped on the *Interceptor* he had known practically nothing about them. Now he was learning more than he had ever *wanted* to know, because Jack Sparrow was teaching it all to him and he felt like his head was about ready to explode from all the new information the pirate was cramming into it.

Not all of it was hard, though most of it was. Most of it was rather confusing as well. It wasn't as if he wasn't used to hard work. He was a blacksmith after all. But this kind of work wasn't like anything he had ever done before. Some of the jobs he didn't mind, while others…

Will nearly shuddered remembering when Jack had told him to climb high up in the rigging and he had nearly lost his footing near the top. He had gotten over his seasickness rather quickly after that, as it had been a sudden wave on nausea that had nearly made him fall.

The young man was quite aware of the pirate's gaze upon him most of the time, but of course he attributed it to Jack wanting to make sure he didn't screw something up. But the pirate was patient with him while he learned, not something he had really expected. He was actually kind of grateful for the elder man's watchful eye. He watched Jack as well, whenever the older man wasn't watching him that was. Just to learn from him of course.

Yes, he could definitely respect the man for his knowledge of sailing… and perhaps his skill with a sword as well…even though the man had cheated before to beat him. Respect, that was all, and only for that.

~~

Looping two hitches of line around the ship's wheel to secure it on their course, Jack stepped down onto the foredeck, casting a glance at Will as he passed. "Brightwork needs to be scrubbed, boy," he said in a much more gentle voice, almost as though he were making a suggestion rather than giving an order, though it was indeed an order nonetheless.

Will sighed inaudibly, yet nodded, with a soft "Ay, captain," that the older man *insisted* he call him. He had gotten tired of Sparrow correcting him and now it came almost naturally.

The sun was hotter this day than it had yet been since they set out, and Jack casually stripped off his shirt laying it aside as he sat down on a crate by the mainmast, took up a marlinspike, and began to trim and splice some chafed lengths of line.

Meanwhile, Will moved to get the rags he would need, watching Sparrow out of the corner of his eye, rather surprised when the elder man suddenly took of his shirt, but less because of the action itself than because of what it revealed.

The elder man's skin was darkly tanned, suggesting he had worked shirtless in the sun for many hours on more than one occasion, but that was not what caught his attention.  Instead it was the myriad of both tattoos and scars that decorated the man's chest, arms and back. The most noticeable of them all of course the crisscrossing deep lines of scars running all along the length of the elder man's back. And for the first time since Jack had begun teaching him, Will paused in his task, completely forgetting what it was the pirate had ordered him to do in the first place.

Before he even realized what he was doing he walked up behind the older man, staring at the marks with a morbid kind of fascination. They were easily identifiable enough, even though he had never seen the like of them before. At one time in his life, Jack Sparrow had been whipped, repeatedly… and the shear number of scars across his back…

"God…" He breathed softly, not even really realizing he had spoken out loud when he did. And thinking back on it he would never remember what had possessed him to suddenly reach out and run his fingertips down the length of the elder man's back. "How did this happen?"

~~

The nature of living with a scar for nigh on twenty years is that it ceases to become the foremost thing in one's mind, no matter how grievous the original wounds that created it were. So it had consequently not occurred to Jack that he would be revealing anything of particular note to William when he removed his shirt.

And the irony was that, were it anyone else, the pirate probably would not have granted himself the luxury. He had a strange sense of propriety and would have considered such a display untoward. But it was just the two of them here and, maybe owing to Will's youth, Jack felt at ease with the other man.

Whatever the motivation behind the display, though, Jack had by no means been expecting a reaction such as he received. Even the soft whisper of Will's voice behind him had prepared him not in the least.

The elder man froze, his breath almost catching at the unexpected caress. Unexpected...the word hardly did it justice. Jack would never even have -imagined-. Just as he'd not have imagined how gentle a touch those calloused fingers could impart, that they could feel so smooth and sweet, like slow drops of rain over his skin following the gullies between the scarred flesh down as they approached, and then vanished beneath, the sash wound about his waist. The sensation made Jack smile knavishly.

"Moses' Law, mate," he answered the boy's inquiry with a quiet steady voice that bespoke no reproach for the liberty Will had taken in touching him. "Forget, and they write it on yer back as reminder." He could have left it at that and told the boy to get back to work; with most others that's most likely what he would have done. Jack liked telling tales about his life and adventures, certainly, but there was no glory in this one, except perhaps in the fact that he'd
survived it at all.

He looked back over his shoulder at the young man, taking care not to move his back lest Will would like to  continue touching it. The expression he found in the young blacksmith's eyes was as surprising as the caress itself--there was a sort of horrified awe (that wasn't the unexpected part) but there was also concern, even a glimmer of care, and for the first time Jack admitted to himself that Will was beautiful and that he wanted him...badly.

"I was fifteen," the pirate elaborated, "ship was called the *Fastness*. We had boarded a merchant brig, taken `er plunder, and took for ransom one fine English lady, name of Miss Clarise Northrop. She was your age, maybe, and fine as the sea itself. Too pretty for `er own good she was. Too tempting.

"I was assigned to bring `er her meals, and we'd talk a bit," Jack shrugged a little here noncommittally, "Guess she was lonely. Anyway, one night I'd gone back kind of late, snuck into `er room during second dogwatch. Was there a while and the watch changed again and there was this noise at the door." Jack paused here for effect as he watched Will's reactions to the unfolding story. It was not a tale that Jack had told often, and it was, surprisingly, entirely true.

"So she hides me, not wanting anyone to know I been there, and then in comes the pilot's mate, just off his shift.

"She was so scared of `im, and `e would `ave done it, would `ave forced her. But `e didn't reckon on my bein' there," Jack offered Will a crooked smile here, knowing that the gallant part of the tale was over and that really it had not been so gallant to begin with. The flogging itself was something he never wanted to recall, nor did he want to remember the agony of waking up afterwards to find that he was, indeed, still alive.

"I fought `im off, and I got this as reward. Penalty for striking a man aboard ship. Got infected somethin' fierce," his tone had grown almost shockingly nonchalant, "No body thought I would live." Jack smiled more fully now, a
winning and purposefully seductive glint in his eyes that was even more pronounced than usual, "But...I'm Captain Jack Sparrow. Guess they learned."

~~

Moses Law…Will had heard of it. Thirty-nine lashes from a whip, `supposedly' one short of a death sentence.  Though many men had indeed died from the punishment. Will shuddered slightly as he knelt down behind the crate where Jack was sitting, his fingers following the line of one particularly long and prominent scar. Probably one of the last that the elder man had received, running from one shoulder blade all the way down to the small of the elder man's back.

He listened to the tale the pirate was weaving for him with something akin to awe, and a new respect for the elder man grew within him out of nowhere no matter how hard he might try to deny it. Remembering suddenly what he had thought of Jack Sparrow before. That, being a pirate, older man was completely self-serving and couldn't possibly know the meaning of sacrifice or doing the
right thing even if it gave you no reward in return. This certainly proved him wrong, didn't it?

If the story was true, and the young blacksmith somehow knew it was, then the only reward Jack had received from helping that woman was pain. A great deal of it… The young man's touch remained so light it was almost non-existent. Almost as if he were afraid that his touch along the scars would *still* cause pain if he wasn't careful, even though he knew of course they were long since healed.

It was not fair, the young man decided suddenly, looking at the marks with a mixture of sympathy and concern.  Jack had done the right thing, and he had gotten this as punishment. But the elder man had not said what had been done, if anything, to the other man… or what had happened to the young woman. Likely Jack didn't know because he had probably been in too much pain and bed ridden for weeks at least... and Will decided not to ask. Not wanting to stir up any more painful memories and possibly offend the elder man as well.

Will glanced up, meeting the pirate's eyes once more, his own widening in shock at the expression he saw there. Not really able to decipher the look the elder man was giving him only knowing that it unnerved him. Making the blood suddenly rush to his cheeks, and realizing suddenly what he was doing, snatched his hand
away from the older man's skin as if it burned him.

"I… I should go scrub the brightwork…" The young man stuttered slightly as he stood a little unsteadily, hurrying off as if he were afraid the devil would be after him if he didn't. Feeling his seasickness returning a bit, though
at least it wasn't as bad as it had been before. Instead of the nausea he had felt earlier, there was only a slight fluttering in his stomach. Though the warm flush to his cheeks did not fade for some time.

***

Jack regarded the length of twine in his hands silently a moment, running his fingertips back and forth against the roughly frayed end. In his mind, he was touching a material infinitely softer--the fabric of Will's shirt coming open beneath his hands and revealing skin which he had no doubt would be soft and smooth and unmarred.

The pirate glanced over his shoulder once more as he considered making the
image a reality. The blush in the young man's cheeks and the soft drag of his fingers down his back were all the evidence Jack required of Will's reciprocity. Certainly, though, the boy did not yet know that he returned Jack's desires. (Like as not, he didn't even know what intentions Jack harbored to begin with nor, the Captain figured, had the lad likely ever really considered his sexual urges at all). But Jack meant that his young companion should learn of such matters. He had, after all, taken charge of the boy's education.

Jack was no brute though, and he understood that a young man's first required a soft and careful touch, just as he understood that he must take care not to scare the boy...too much. Startling him a little would likely aid in his
cause, keep Will off his balance, unsure of what was happening.

Across the deck, Will took a deep breath as he worked, scrubbing the highly
polished wood hard with the rag in his hand trying to banish the strange confusion that had taken hold of him.  It helped but only a little.

No matter how hard he tried he couldn't stop thinking about the strange moment that had just passed between him and Jack Sparrow. Why had he acted the way he had? What on earth had possessed him to touch the older man like that? True the marks along the well-muscled back had been morbidly fascinating… but he didn't have to touch them… yet he had…

And then when the older man had looked at him he had run away blushing like
a… God he didn't even know what! It might not have been the *most* embarrassing thing he had ever done, yet it certainly came close.

~~

Setting aside the rope he'd been working on, Jack pushed himself up from his seat. Will's back was to him now as Jack moved up silently behind him. He stood there a moment, a smile of anticipation curving his lips, before he made his move. The young man scrubbed at the wood harder, almost as if he meant to take off the top coating of lacquer in his efforts.

One hand slid smoothly down Will's arm to close gently atop the young man's
fingers, stilling them; Jack's chest was close against his back, but not pressing there, his breath warm as it ghosted over the boy's ear when he
spoke, his voice calm and even, "It's hot out, lad. You shouldn't work out
here in the sun like this." The pirate's free hand came up to work at the buttons of Will's jerkin, freeing slowly one and then the next in a slow
southward path as he counted the seconds until Will spun on him and demand
to know what he was doing.

The young blacksmith was concentrating so hard he did not hear even the
smallest creak of the wood to announce the pirate's presence behind him. So it was quite understandable perhaps that when the other's strong fingers slid down his arm to cover his own, he jumped nearly a foot in the air with a yelp that bordered embarrassingly on a squeak. Dropping the rag he had been using over the side of the ship, then like any animal when it is cornered by a `predator', he froze.

Jack was standing so close to him that he could practically feel the heat radiating from the other man's body. The feel of the older man's breath against his ear, fanning across his neck, making his breath catch in his throat.
He was not really angry by the sudden closeness, how could he be after the
liberties he had taken himself touching the older man as he had. However the butterflies that had been fluttering in his stomach at some point morphed into a veritable hornets nest inside him. Leaving him quite unsteady and unsure what to do.

Nothing could have prepared him for the feeling of the man's other hand slowly unbuttoning his shirt. However it was a shock of an altogether different sort. Where before he had been frozen in place not knowing what action to take, either flight or fight, this spurred him into action choosing a path that was a little of both.

"What are you…?" Was all the young man managed as he whirled around. Forgetting as he did so how close heactually was standing to the railing of the ship, and in his surprise and effort to put a little distance between himself and Sparrow, he nearly lost his balance and probably would have fallen over the side to join his lost rag if he didn't reach out to grasp the older man's arms to steady himself.

The results of course the entire opposite of his intentions, instead of putting more distance between them now their chests nearly touched they were so close. Jack's completely bare of course, and his own shirt now hanging open nearly to the waist.

Will swallowed hard, once more frozen in place, his mind a jumbled knot of
confusion. Simply standing there staring at the older man like a doe confronted by a wolf.

~~

The hand that snaked around Will's waist did so only, of course, to support
him. Utility, nothing more. At least that was how Jack meant to play it. His expertly schooled expression betrayed nothing of how good Will felt in
his arms, and Jack decided instantly that he could not have orchestrated a
better reaction had he had the entire day to plan it.

It would be so easy now to complete the contact between them, to pull Will
to him, press their bodies full and close, claim those succulent-looking lips with his own. And by the crown of Poseidon he was tempted. But sweeter wine was made of fruits aged on the vine than those plucked before ripe, and Jack knew enough to wait even if he didn't know one scrap about viticulture.

The pirate painted an expression of concern on his face as he cradled Will
securely against him for a moment before moving back a step. His hand slipped down to Will's hip, "Steady on, lad. Are you all right?"

Roughly calloused fingers stroked back the hair from the young blacksmith's
forehead tucking the errant strands behind an ear. They felt smooth and soft compared to Jack's own, just slightly damp with the moisture of the young man's sweat. Jack cocked his head and frowned slightly as though examining the boy and finding something amiss.

One eyebrow raised and the pirate leaned his head back to put some more
distance between them and allow himself a better view of the young man's features. "Think you've been out in the sun too long, mate. We'd better get you inside." The sagacious pronouncement was succeeded almost immediately by another quick shift in their positions as Jack stepped to the side, brought his hand up to rest on Will's shoulder, fingers brushing casually through the tendrils of hair by his neck, and began to usher the young man towards his own cabin.

~~

Will Turner looked at the elder man with an expression that was quite dumbfounded. For several long moments not knowing what to say or how to respond to the sudden shift in the pirate's attitude. This sudden… well concern… it seemed for his well-being. And the younger man would probably have been quite skeptical of the older man's intentions… if he had any idea what those intentions might be.

The young man was a virgin in every sense of the word. Of course he knew of
such things that passed between men and women. He was not *that* naïve. But he had been in love with the beautiful Miss. Elizabeth Swann since… well… the first time he had laid eyes upon her. Looking like an angel standing over him when he had been pulled from the water eight years ago.

He had heard some talk, though not much considering he had spent most of his time locked away in the blacksmith's shop learning the trade, but enough to
have some idea of what men and women did together once they were married to
have children. Things he had heard some sailors in the taverns speaking quite loudly and rudely about. Things he had never even *considered* much less imagined about doing with Elizabeth, because he knew such thoughts were improper.

So the young man was quite ignorant about the subtle arts of seduction. Was
completely unaware that what men and women could do together, two men could do as well. Would not have even recognized his own feelings of attraction if they reared up and bit him.

The arm that had wrapped around his waist to steady him, of course, was only for that reason and nothing more. So the young man was grateful for it. Completely unfazed when that hand slid down to rest against his hip.

"I'm fine…" The young man offered finally seeming to regain control of his
voice. Though even as he said it he began to wonder. Was he really fine? What if he wasn't? His stomach was still feeling strange and when the older man had brushed his hair back off his forehead (To check for fever?) he had shivered.

Maybe Jack was right… maybe he *had* been out in the sun too long and that
was why he was feeling so strange, and the older man seemed genuinely concerned… So he allowed the pirate to lead him below deck with only a small nod.

In only two days having completely forgotten his first rule when dealing with pirates… never trust a pirate.

***

                            
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