I smiled weakly at Jack from across the table. Perhaps we wouldn't tell Captain Teague that we were sharing a bed?

He wasn't meeting my gaze. Instead, his chocolaty eyes were glaring at Barboussa.

Everyone stared at Sumbhajee's assistant as he stood, his voice a higher pitch than what I would have expected. "Sumbhajee declares this all to be folly! Hang the Code! Who gives a--"

A crack rang out, and the man fell over backwards, cause of death the bullet in his heart.

I raised my head to look beyond Jack's end of the table, slightly shaken.

"The Code is the law." I heard, who I knew to be Captain Teague, say. The coldness in his voice scared me, frankly.

He stood, a shadow until he moved into the light. Captain Edward Teague, former Pirate Lord of Madagascar and the Keeper of the Pirate Code, was a tall and intimidating man. Everyone shied away from him slightly, as if they feared he would shoot them if they uttered a single word. His hair was beaded and braided similar to Jack's, as was his goatee. Although, crosses were tied into his. I saw where Jack had gathered inspiration for his own unique style.

I wondered for the first time Jack's religion. I myself was an atheist, but the topic had never come up.

"You're in my way, boy." He told Jack, who had been standing frozen at the head of the table. Jack grudgingly moved aside, looking as if he wanted to disappear.

Hm. Not many people could make Jack Sparrow shut up like that.

Jack's father was a man to be feared.

A pathway was cleared off to the side for the Pirate Code to be brought to the table. It was a gigantic book; And heavy, I inferred, by the way the grizzled pirates carrying it had to strain. "Created by Morgan and Bartholomew?"

"Aye." Barboussa said, looking smug. Men.

Captain Teague whistled, and to my surprise the dog from Port Royal's prison trotted up, grinning, the keys hanging from his mouth. I stared.

"How?" Ragetti whispered.

"Sea turtles, mate," Teague grinned, taking the keys and unlocking the book.

I decided that I liked him.

Teague studied the Code, muttering to himself and letting his index finger follow the words. Finally, he spoke. "Barboussa is right," He said, straightening.

There were murmurs of positive and negative origin from around the room, and Hector's ego grew even larger. I rolled my eyes.

"So? Where do we go from there?" I asked out loud, tapping my foot and pushing my hair back. "Who's the Pirate King? How about he gives us permission like the five-year-olds that we are?"

I was ignored. Jack pushed his father aside and peered into the pages. "Hang on a minute...it shall be the duty of the King to declare war, Parlay with said adversaries..." He tapped the pages. "Fancy that!"

So we would talk to Cutler Beckett first. Wonderful.

Chevalle put in his word. "There's not been a King since the First Court, and that's not likely to change."

I furrowed my brow. "Why not?"

"Because the Pirate King is elected by popular vote." Gibbs explained.

"And each Pirate Lord only ever votes for hisself." Barboussa finished.

I raised an eyebrow. This system didn't seem too efficient.

Jack's eyes gleamed. "I call for a vote!"

Should I vote for myself? I wondered. No one else shared my opinion. Yes, I'd follow tradition.

"Ammand the Corsair!"

"Capitaine Chevalle, the penniless French man!"

"Sumbhajee Angria votes for Sumbhajee Angria!"

"Mistress Ching."

"Gentleman Jocard."

My turn. "Captain Adeena Cole." I shrugged.

"Barboussa." I glanced at him, wondering why he never used his first name.

"Villanueva."

"Captain Adeena."

What?

My gaze flew to Jack, who was grinning at me. I smiled, letting out a shaky breath.

"I know, curious, isn't it?" Jack asked, to the outraged mutters and whispers.

Jocard was the one that really started it. "Me! You're supposed to vote for me!"

Once again, everyone was in turmoil. I'm King of these idiots?

Jack's voice somehow rose above the din. "Am I to understand you lot will be going against the Code, then?"

Like someone pressed a button, the room fell into silence as Teague snapped a string on his guitar. I hadn't even realized he'd left the table.

"Very well." Mistress Ching rose, her milky eyes finding me. "What say you, Captain Adeena, King of the Brethren Court?"

I grinned, excited. "Prepare any vessel that floats!" I said. "At dawn, we're at war!"

Any cheering was postponed by Sumbhajee actually standing.

I stared as he spoke. "And so," His voice was impossibly high. "We shall go to war!"

There was a moment of silence before the excitement began.

Excitement was an understatement for what was about to come.

***

Jack turned to Teague, feeling that he at least should say hello. The look his father was giving him made him a bit defensive, however.

"What?" He asked. "You've seen it all, done it all, you survived. That's the trick, innit? To survive."

Captain Teague put aside his music for a moment. "It's not about living forever, Jackie." He said. "It's about living with yourself forever."

Forever. Jack thought. He'd lived with himself this long, why not forever?

"And I don't suppose you'll want to leave her behind, would you?"

Jack stiffened. "No idea what you mean, mate."

Teague grinned. Jack sometimes thought he enjoyed making him uncomfortable. "Our most recent King. My eyes are just as good as they were twenty years ago, Jackie."

Jack glanced at her. She was waiting at the door, tapping her foot and mouthing something. Perhaps she was singing; a smile curled her mouth upwards. She was always happy when she was singing, something she did without thinking; an instinct. The Siren in her, perhaps? "I don't want to think about twenty years ago. Adeena is...different."

Jack hated the smug look his father gave him. "I'm proud of you, Jackie."

Jack shifted awkwardly. "Yeah, that." He quickly changed the subject, saying the first thing that came to mind. "How's mum?"

He felt a hint of satisfaction as his father's face fell, and he held up the shrunken head.

Jack winced. He didn't like dead things; it bothered him. "She looks...great." He said unconvincingly, smiling weakly.

He thought of never dying.