On Stranger Tides—(The Elizabeth Remix)

If you were as disappointed as me by the glaring lack of our dear Pirate King in POTC 4, this fic might be for you. This is my REMIX of On Stranger Tides, with Elizabeth Swann inserted. Here there be Sparrabeth. Ye've been warned.

A/N: Introduction- I watched On Stranger Tides for the second time *ever* a few days ago. It didn't *hurt* in a visceral gut-clenching way like it did the first time, Sparrabether that I am, but you know, it really wasn't that good either. Johnny was enchanting, as ever, but the rest still fell rather flat. Naturally my imagination began to wander towards inserting Elizabeth into the plot, and here we are. I make no promises nor have any idea where we're going, except that I hope it will be fun. :)

A/N II: I suppose the events leading up to this shall be canon, except for that icky point of Will and Elizabeth's marriage, and Will becoming the captain of the Flying Dutchman. In this little corner of the fanfic universe that belongs to me, the whelp died in the battle, and someone else stabbed the heart. Haven't decided who yet…

Chapter 1

Man's capacity for blood lust never ceased to amaze Elizabeth. Here, in supposedly civilized London Town, even the mild mannered bakers and cobblers screamed for the entertainment of a hanging in the Old Bailey.

She supposed that diversion for the lower classes was far and few between.

And yet it was not only the peasants who howled for justice at the end of a noose. Somber aristocrats and merchants who had lost ships and goods and copious amounts of gold to the infamous pirate's shenanigans intended to have their pound of flesh.

Perhaps it seemed a fool's errand, that Elizabeth Swann intended to stop it with a weapon so seemingly inconsequential as words.

Her spine stiffened at the banging of a gavel, a call to order that barely quelled the echoed shouts of the unwashed crowd. There were somber words that barely registered in her brain, for the ringing that set in her ears. Blah blah blah this pirate Jack Sparrow accused of piracy…

What rubbish.

Who in their right mind could mistake dear Joshamee Gibbs for the Jack Sparrow, she couldn't know.

When the bailiff called her name, "The defense calls Lady Elizabeth Swann to the stand!" she rose on shaky legs, daintily making her way to the bench on ridiculous heels, trussed like a Christmas goose in her corset and yards and yards of silk skirts. God, how she missed the days of going about in britches, long legs free to swing in a confident stride, sword at her hip, tricorn at a jaunty angle upon her head. She'd felt so powerful then, living as a man in a man's world.

Now, she was just…this.

A pretty doll again, taken seriously by no one.

At least now she would be heard, just for a little while.

The truth was that there would not have been a defense for Joshamee Gibbs had Elizabeth not paid for it. Something she was all too happy to do for her old comrade in arms. She was still the Pirate King, after all, and she would do for hers what she could, when she could.

People who knew nothing of her but her name booed, incensed that this chit of a girl would take the stand in the defense of such an obvious scallywag. "Throw 'er out!" they chanted. "Get on wit it an' hang him!"

Again the judge banged his gavel, and she was sworn in. To her surprise the judge questioned her directly. "You have something to say in the defense of this man?"

His voice evoked something strange within her, an unbidden tingle at the base of her spine. Ignoring it, Elizabeth answered, "I will begin with the fact that this is not the pirate Captain Jack Sparrow. His name is Joshamee Gibbs."

"And how would you know such a thing, Lady Swann?"

The last was said with the slightest note of mockery. Annoyed, she turned to regard the judge, her chin jutting defiantly.

As her eyes met his, dark eyes rimmed in kohl that burned as twin bonfires, sparking with mischief, her retort died on her lips. Her mouth fell open in a moment of complete shock.

Her heart stopped, and then quickly attempted to punch through her chest again.

Jack.

She would know him anywhere. This ridiculous wig and robe couldn't disguise the pirate from her eyes. He smiled behind his kerchief, a flash of telling gold. Play along, luv. She could hear his words in her mind, even if he dared not speak them.

Quickly she straightened, hoping her misstep was not so obvious as it felt.

"As you may know, my father was Governor of Jamaica for a time. I had occasion to meet Jack Sparrow."

"And how would a lady like you have such occasion?"

It was obscene what this rascal could imply with the utterance of a single word. One word! Occasion indeed, she thought, suddenly feeling rather flushed under the many layers of her dress. Damn this man. Just when she'd finally managed to stop filling every second of every day with a thought of Jack Sparrow, here he was again.

"The Caribbean is a wild place, your honor. Such things are commonplace, no matter your station."

"And what's he like? This Jack Sparrow."

Elizabeth pressed her lips, suppressing a smile for his antics. His vanity was unbelievable. "He's a perfect scoundrel," she informed the courtroom, winning a narrowing of dark eyes. "But immensely clever. And, he saved my life once."

Dark brows furrowed under the curls of his periwig.

"Only once?"

He sounded genuinely offended.

She shot Jack a warning glance, caramel eyes gone wide. A surprising hush had fallen over the crowd, interest in her answer keen. Something seemed off about the repartee between the judge and this witness, though no one could quite yet place their finger upon it. They seemed old friends to be resuming an old conversation, rather than strangers delivering a testimony in a court of law.

"Once that I can recall," she answered quickly. "At any rate, I would like you to know that this man, Joshamee Gibbs, was a sailor of the first rate in His Majesty's navy. I met him on the crossing to Jamaica and can testify to his character. If he has been involved in piracy of any sort I am certain he was forced."

It was Jack's turn to stifle a grin behind that absurd handkerchief.

There was more rabble, banging of the gavel, calls for order. It all passed as a blur, and Sparrow turned Gibbs was proclaimed not guilty, to the fury of the blood-thirsty crowd. In the blink of an eye the judge vacated the bench, disappearing in a whirl of robes and flash of grey wig.

Heart pounding with excitement, Elizabeth elbowed through the crowd, making her way towards where she suspected the Judges' Chambers must be. She heard an odd sound behind a cracked door. Pushing it open, hoping to find Jack, instead she beheld a paunchy old man bound and gagged, a wig and black robe draped haphazardly upon him.

The man made muffled overtures for her to untie him, but something out the corner of her eye distracted her. She turned to catch a flash of worn gray coat and dark ropey hair disappearing around the corner. "Jack!" she called, lifting her voluminous skirts in an attempt to run after him.

All for naught.

By the time she rounded the corner he was gone.

Elizabeth's heart fell to her feet, a hope she'd not allowed herself to feel in years risen and dashed in the matter of less than an hour. She fought the urge to sit down and weep, blinking back a very annoying welling of tears.

There was a point in which all she did was cry for the men who had left her behind, upon their ships, and for what lay beyond. Three years later, she had vowed to no longer waste her energy upon such tiresome things as tears and yearnings for that which could never be.

It seemed her heart had quickly forgotten that earnest vow, the way Jack made her forget all vows, all reason, everything except for the desire to be within the shining circle that was his mad world.