Disclaimer: I don't have permission to be using these characters. They are owned by Disney. If I had as much money as Disney, I would buy the rights to these characters, but I don't have any money.

Author's Note (12/10/06): This is a sequel. Thought I'd tell you that right away so there's no confusion here. It is set six years after the third movie (no, I don't know what's going to happen for sure, I've merely made a few assumptions). If you don't want to read the prequel, The Token, I guess I'll give a quick summary here. Will dies in an accident in the smithy, Elizabeth is devastated because she has two young children to raise, Jack shows up and offers her sympathy before leaving because the thought of being with someone for more than a few weeks is terrifying, he comes back and helps deliver his own daughter, and Elizabeth tells him to leave, so he does. That pretty much brings you up to speed.
I love reviews, for I am subject to the abysmal ego of an author. I never think that my work is good enough and enjoy encouragement. I also like it when people point out my faults, even if I sometimes react offended. I'm trying to polish my writing methods, trying to discover my voice, and all that rot, which is why I write and post on fanfic in the first place. Therefore, it would be much appreciated if you left me a review. I hope you enjoy the first chapter. I promise that this one will be full of more action than The Token. "Ward the Pirate" is a song title that I shamelessly stole for the title to this story.

Chapter One: The Decision

She was far more forgiving than any mortal woman of flesh and bone and ideas. She didn't care what he'd been up to for the past few days, weeks, months, or even years. She didn't glare at him or give him a stony silence treatment. She was merely as she'd been before—stoic, beautiful, forgiving, and his. He didn't have to guess where he stood with her. He would always be the captain and she would always be his resplendent Black Pearl. She couldn't hold a grudge or let her feelings fester to the point that she acted conversely to how she truly felt. She didn't have logic, but she was content when he returned. A string of bad luck ended and the skies seemed clear.

The captain was up at the helm staring at the horizon. He'd been up at the helm a lot over the past few months. So much so, it seemed unnatural not to see him gazing at the clear waters as he accounted for minute changes in wind direction and the current. He was distant but brilliant and his crew was in awe of him. The new members were afraid to even talk to him, a great contrast to the way he seemed to know each man in his crew before. Now the preoccupied-with-thinking captain probably couldn't name them all.

His dark kohl-lined eyes were constantly on the brink of appearing vulnerable (or amused, depending on what thought it was running through his mind like an elusive nymph) but always remained stoically aloof emotionally from anything anywhere. His eyes had been different for some time now. They used to match his mood. Now they were the only giveaway that all was not well in the enigmatic man. Aside from them, he was who he had always been—Captain Jack Sparrow. He had a terribly annoying honest streak along with over-the-top hand gestures and a perpetual drunken swagger that made him seem inept. He never seemed to be in control of anything, merely reacting to one crisis as another one erupted. In spite of it all, he was the best pirate in the Caribbean. He'd lost the fewest sailors in his numerous exploits over the past six years and was talked about all over the world. His name was more recognizable than that of the current king of England. Everyone knew his various exploits and all recounted them in different ways. Even he was amazed at what he'd apparently done.

The wind was whipping various beads and metal objects tied into his hair into the back of his head, tangling with free strands of dark hairs that were planning to commit suicide. His hair hadn't been combed in years, as was the custom among buccaneers, and carried mementos and reminders of his past. It was better to store memories on the outside of his head than in the inside of it because it freed up space for him to solve the seemingly unsolvable. He'd been wearing it all for so long that he'd become accustomed to the slight twinges of pain accompanying minute movements of his neck or changes in the direction of the wind. It only took him a week or two to grow accustomed to new trinkets he added from time to time.

He had a mostly thoughtful look in his eyes as he glanced down towards the compass standing on the bridge. His right hand twitched as he stared at the needle, moving towards the compass hanging from one of his belts on his left side. He wanted to look into it, to see where the needle would point and thus show what he wanted most, but he already knew the answer. A slightly pained look flitted across his face before his hand rested on the helm again and he made very small changes to their overall course based on what the large compass had told him. Jack was an expert navigator and a very decent helmsman, which is why the aging Cotton and his parrot hadn't complained about Jack taking their places as helmsman. Cotton was using the extra time to brush up on his French literature.

"I'm here to relieve you, Cap'n," Joshamee Gibbs' voice startled the pirate captain.

He turned slightly to look at his aging and very loyal first mate. "I don' remember asking t' be relieved."

"Tha's why I'm here, Cap'n." Gibbs smiled slightly, emphasizing the wrinkles on his cheeks framed so perfectly by his grey muttonchops. "Ye've been standing here hardly movin' for the past twelve hours."

Jack's eyes widened as he contemplated whether that was true or not. The sun was nearly setting and he'd been here since sunrise. "I'd say closer t' eleven an' a half." He smirked very slightly before looking away from Gibbs. "I'm fine."

"Ye haven't had anythin' t' eat or drink, neither." Gibbs sounded worried.

"Once again, I'm fine," Jack said dismissively.

"Which is why ye noticed Smoke din' swab the decks t'day or even come up on deck, right?"

Jack looked at Gibbs. "'E sick?"

"Aye."

"Then it don' matter. I'm fine."

Gibbs sighed. "I'm gettin' too old for this, Jack. Yer not fine. Fine was how ye were before ye got back from prison. Ye hardly eat anymore an' aren't getting better. Wha's botherin' ye?"

Jack stared at his first mate and oldest friend for a very long time, as though testing to see how long Gibbs could handle the silence. After what felt like an eternity, he said, "She's getting' married tomorrow."

Gibbs adopted a puzzled expression after making a noise that sounded vaguely as though he understood. "Who?"

"Who else?" Jack sighed softly, glancing away.

"Oh." Gibbs sighed as well. "To who?"

"The cat."

"Ah." Gibbs frowned. "I hate tha' man," he grumbled under his breath. "'E got me kicked out o' the Navy."

"Which turned out t' be a very fortunate thing, din' it?" Jack smiled slightly. "Either way…the cat?"

"Does it bother ye?"

Jack rolled his eyes as he looked back at Gibbs.

"Then why are we still headed t' Tortuga? We're close enough—"

"She wanted to marry him." Jack's voice was oddly quiet and strained.

Gibbs was silent for a moment. "Jack, how old are ye?"

The captain quirked his eyebrow. It disappeared underneath his red bandana. "Forty-five." He would not have answered that question if almost anyone else had asked it. It was a sore spot for him; he did not like being so old. It was terribly difficult to put a specific age on him and Gibbs seemed slightly surprised until he did a little math inside his head.

"I'm fifty-three, Jack. I've regretted the day I lef' the woman I loved for thirty-two years. I'm getting' old and I'm just realizing that I'm mostly miserable. Go for her."

"But—"

"She ain't thinking straight. Show her tha'. It don' matter that ye spent time pining for her an' she sent you away. So what? Yer Captain Jack Sparrow. Women fall on ye as though ye were a mattress. Don' that mean anything anymore?"

Jack slowly shook his head. "Why would it? She doesn' love me."

"And you jus' let her go. The old Jack I knew wouldn' do that."

"It would never work out between us. I've told her tha' before."

"Aye, well it doesn't seem to be working out wivout her. You're losing your touch, Jack, because ye stand here all ruddy day thinkin' about the last conversation ye two had or something. Go for her. We won' think any less of ye if you do."

Jack stared at Gibbs for a long while as the sun slowly disappeared over the edge of the world. It was what he wanted to do desperately. So, he pulled out his personal compass and then changed the heading of the Pearl. He just had to see her once more before she married the cat, Admiral James Norrington.