Chapter 1: A Deal with the Devil
Chapter Text
"The King and his men stole the queen from her bed,"
The night on the Caribbean Sea was dark as the great trading ship smoothly cut through the calm, deep waters below.
"-and bound her ii~n her bones."
Not a gull screeched in the air, nor a sailor shouted on deck. All was quiet, except for the quiet voice singing, the sound almost lost to the winds.
"The seas be ours and by the powers."
So it was that no one saw the young girl standing at the stern dressed only in her white night shift and red silk dressing gown…or the taller shadow that approached her silently as a cat.
"Where we will...we'll roam."
The girl's long copper curls fluttered in the breeze as she softly hummed the sea shanty under her breath, the music masking the shadow's cautious steps as it crept up behind her.
"Yo, Ho haul together, hoist the colours high,"
She shut her eyes as she fingered a spiralling pointed conch seashell that hung on a gold chain around her neck
"Heave ho, thieves and beggars"
There was a push.
A scream.
And a splash.
"Never shall we die"
A little girl no older than eight, with damp copper curls, shorn short and pale waterlogged skin, shook and shivered as she stumbled through the door and onto on the sodden carpet.
The room before her was massive and cluttered with trinkets and lit with many large waxy candles. At the far end of the room was a pipe organ massive in size, its tubular pipes almost moulding into the very walls on either side while a large image of a woman was carved over the three rows of black and ivory keys. It was at the seat of this great instrument that a man sat, his broad shoulders hunched, and his head bowed as if in silent prayer to an unknown heathen god.
Or at least, it was shaped like a man.
It had arms, legs and a head and wore human clothes, yes, but that was where the devil's similarities with humankind ended. For no man would ever truly be able to match a being of such cruelty and malice.
"Do you know why I summoned you here lass?" a man's voice spoke from the devil's mouth.
"N-no Captain." The little girl shook her head, trying and failing to will her shivers to come to a stop.
"Do you know why you're here on this ship?"
"b-because you found me sir after I was…" the girl gulped. "When I was in the ocean."
"That's right. I found you. I found you, brought you aboard this ship and gave you a second chance to keep breathing." The Devil's head turned slightly in its chair to glower back at her "And yet for all my charity, what do I find you doin' when my back is turned?"
"S-sir-"
"Trying to escape through the triple guns portholes." The Devil chuckled softly, wicked, dark echoes filling the room and bouncing eerily off the walls and rattling within the organ's pipes. "I must admit, that was an interesting choice, lass. Most escapees usually try the portholes on the lower decks."
"S-Sir I'm sorry, it won't happen again-"
"What won't happen lass? You won't try to escape again? Or you won't try to escape the same way? Hmm?" The Devil gave a seething chuckle "And don't try to feed me some fake apology. I have no patience for liars. If you were sorry you'd be throwing yourself on my mercy and begging for a chance at redemption. Hmph!" he smirked when the girl stayed defiantly silent at this taunt "But you and I both know that's not going to happen. Because you don't regret what you did, do you? You just regret getting caught."
"What is going to happen to me sir?" the girl mumbled, tears streaming freely down her pale and pallid cheeks. There was no use denying the accusations, not when they both knew they were true.
There was silence as the devil slowly rose to his feet, his back still turned on the terrified child. But he did not answer. Not because he did not know what to say. He just wanted to savour his victim's silent tears as she squirmed.
She could feel her breath catch in her chest. The room was so quiet she could hear the crew singing their shanty high above on deck.
"Some men have died, and some are alive,
and others sail on the sea."
"If ye were a man you'd be getting fifty lashes and a month in the brig." The Devil said softly, his tone nonchalant as if he were talking about the weather. "But seeing as I am such a magnanimous captain, and you are only a little lass I have something less violent in store for you. Something that will teach you a valuable lesson."
"With the keys to the cage, and the devil to pay."
"A-and what punishment would that be sir?" The girl gritted her teeth to hold back the sob threatening to engulf her. She knew better than to hope for true mercy or kindness from this demon, but still…
"We lay to Fiddler's Green!"
The devil did not answer immediately. Instead, he took out an ornate smoking pipe from an ashtray on the side of his pipe organ and began tamping the tobacco inside with careful practised precision.
"Two weeks ago, a man boarded this ship. A snivelling deceitful little rat he is," he muttered as he lit the barrel of his smoking pipe with a match and took a small puff. "Like you, he didn't want to die, but neither did he want to join my crew. So, we struck a deal. Thirteen years of freedom and then he returns to serve aboard the Dutchman for a hundred years. A pretty deal if I should say so myself." He sighed, a whisp of smoke floating from his chuckling mouth to trail lazily in the air.
"B-but how can you trust he'll come back to-to sail under your colours, sir? Won't he just dip and run?" The girl mumbled, innocent curiosity winning out against her terror for a fraction of a second.
"Yo, Ho haul together, hoist the colours high"
"Aye, I have no doubt he will lass."
"S-so w-what's going to happen now? What do I have to do?"
The Devil turned his head to look at the girl, his blue-green eyes piercing her from beneath the shadows of his large hat, his face splitting into a wide malicious grin.
"Heave ho, thieves and beggars, never shall we die"
A young woman opened her eyes. She was lying on a thin pillow on an even thinner mattress, all set upon an old wooden bed. The slats were half broken, but the linen was fresh and clean and soft to her touch as she ran her hands over the surface.
"Still in my bed." She sighed to herself as she slowly sat up. It was still very much dark outside, though the navy and black of night had morphed into a deep purple-grey as the sun crept upwards from below the horizon line.
Of all the times for that memory to resurface, why did it have to be today? It had been a while since it had popped up in her dreams.
Eyes still hazy from sleep the woman raised her right arm where several large circular red marks coiled around her wrist and forearm in a long spiral. They looked like bruises, gnarly and unpleasant against her healthy complexion. It had been almost twelve years since she got them. Twelve long eventful years.
During that time, she had kept them hidden beneath her sleeves and never bathed nor dressed in front of anyone else. She could not reveal them to another living soul. And nor would she ever. They were her chains, her shackles. Hers to bear and hers alone until the devil came to collect his due.
The woman shivered as she remembered the sucking and the tugging of her skin and the pain that came with it. Ugh even till this day she would never forget the bizarre and terrifying sensation. Nor would she forget her assignment, though she dearly wished she could.
She had only spent the first two of those twelve years fulfilling her mission. Two years of deception, harsh lessons in survival and many near scrapes with death until she had been finally shaken off for good.
She had tried tracking down her quarry for a few months after, but it was no use. She had only been ten years old, and the world she lived in was not kind to children, or indeed, to females in general. She could only count herself lucky she had not landed herself working in a brothel. Many working women had told her she would have made a killing what with her good looks and pretty copper curls that now were long enough to cascade down her back.
Fortunately, she had found work in a wash house, scrubbing clothes and linens all day. It was gruelling work and left her little time for a life outside her duties. It barely allowed her time to stay at home to cook and clean up after her landlord and his apprentice. But she had made it work.
She was not sure how she had done it, but she had made a good honest living for herself for ten years. Ten long and hard, but also wonderful years of freedom away from that floating hellscape.
"The bell has been raised from its watery grave".
Somewhere outside a drunkard was singing loudly while a church bell rang the hour.
"Do you hear its sombre tone?"
Usually, it was a sound that comforted her what with its lazy slow clangs. But right now…now it sounded so heavy, so haunting…and yet somehow, it beckoned to her very soul as she looked out her window to the harbour view beyond.
"A call to all, pay heed to the squall,"
Somewhere out there, a ghostly ship was sailing the seas, hunting for lost souls and cheaters of death.
"And turn your sa~il home!"
But it was not going to find her. She would make sure of that.
Who knows, perhaps the old' devil's forgotten all about me. She thought as she tugged the sleeve of her shift back over her marked arm, as she opened her mouth to softly sing:
"Yo Ho, haul together, hoist the colours high. Heave ho, thieves and beggars, never shall we die."
Chapter 2: A Pirate in Port Royal
Summary:
"Welcome to Port Royal Mister Smith"
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Port Royal, the jewel of the of British Colonies in the Caribbean shone in the early morning as the sun crept slowly and lazily up the grey horizon. It bathed the entire town in comforting warm shades of pale gold and pinks as in the distance, a rooster took to his post to herald the start of a new day.
It truly was a beautiful sight to wake up to through his bedroom window.
Or it would have been to those who weren't determined to squeeze in as much sleep as humanely possible.
Hmmm…it's morning? How can it be morning already? I only just closed my eyes. William Turner thought as he rolled over onto his back, eyes still tight shut to keep out the first rays of sunshine hitting his face. He winced as the familiar ache of yesterday's wear and tear on his body made itself known to each of his muscles individually.
Perhaps he should not have stayed up so late practising his swordsmanship with his newest creation, but he wanted to make sure it was perfect before it's delivery. And it was perfect. Truly some of his best work so far and that was saying something, for Will was one of the best blacksmiths in Port Royal.
"My heart is pierced by cupid; I disdain all glittering gold. There is nothing that can console me, but my jolly sailor bold."
Will's eyes cracked open a smidge as a woman's gentle singing wafted softly through the door to his small room.
"A fig for his riches, His merchandise and gold. True love has grafted my heart, Give me my sailor bold."
Eyes shutting again, Will felt the corners of his mouth twitch upwards into a small fondly exasperated smile. Of course, she would be up and singing at the crack of dawn. Since he first found her on that beach ten years ago, Will had never known a day when she woke up later than him unless she was ill or overworked but those days were few and far between.
He wished he could say the same for his old master.
SMASH!
Will jolted up in his bed as the singing woman's voice yelped, her squeaks drowned by a gruff rumble of drunken fury.
"Ruddy lil' brat! Whaddaya think yer doin' with me rum? Why ain't yer started on the food yet?"
"S-sorry Mister Brown." The young woman sighed tiredly "But it was about to spill and I-I just thought-"
"Oh, so yer were thinkin' again were ye? Typical. Lil' Peggy always thinkin' but never doin' 'er chores. I knew it was a bad idea lettin' you read all 'em books."
"Mister Brown please, it's morning. Think of the neighbours-"
"Sod the neighbours and gimme back me bloody rum!" Mister Brown shouted, so loudly that it reverberated off the walls of the small dwelling. Will quickly swung his legs over the side of his narrow bed, pulling his trousers and boots on at top speed. Of all the days his master had to wake up in a temper it had to be this one. Why couldn't that drunk dullard ever have one morning where he didn't cause a raucous?
"I can't give the bottle back Mister Brown, you just broke it." The woman tried saying in a much calmer reasonable tone.
"Don't get smart with me lass!"
"I was not getting smart with you sir. Though if I did it would not be that hard." The woman added more to herself than to Mister Brown but not quietly enough for both he and Will heard the comment very clearly, much to the latter's dismay as he managed to belt his pants.
"What did yer just say?" Mister Brown growled like an angry drunk dog.
"Nothing sir. Nothing." the woman sighed, more annoyed than afraid of the man, even as his footsteps thudded heavily across the floor, masking Will's steps as he opened the door to his room.
Before him lay a small humble kitchen and living space where a hearth was still burning warm while a steaming kettle filled with mushy porridge bubbled gently at a simmer over the coals. On the table was a warm skillet resting on a cloth while a small stack of Johnny cakes lay within, browned and perfectly toasted. In front of the hearth, holding a pewter porringer in one hand and a spoon in the other was a young woman only a year or two younger than twenty-three-year-old Will.
She was shorter than him, the top of her head only coming to Will's chin, slender but wiry and strong from years of manual labour. Her skin was lightly tanned and covered in soft freckles, her red copper hair tied up in a bun beneath her cream-coloured bonnet, though one stray curling lock had escaped its prison to dangle by her cheek. She was already dressed in a dark brown dress with a white apron over her skirts to protect them from the fresh stains she had already accumulated courtesy of the rum bottle that was smashed by her feet by Mister Brown who had leapt up from his dilapidated chair set by the stove for warmth.
He was a scruffy, dark-haired and bearded man with grubby skin and dark eyes that were fixed on the young woman before him with a slightly glazed but fierce glower. Will had seen that glower so often throughout his years as Mister Brown's apprentice. The man was so chronically inebriated that he made the roadside drunks look sober. He certainly spared his victim of the morning no venom as he snarled into the young woman's face.
"Barely mornin' an' already yer causin' trouble ey, Peggy?" He leered, not noticing Will quietly start to stalk into the room and around the table. "Maybe I really should send yer to work with Ol' Baxter's girls down by the wharf. He'll set yer to some real work. Probably make more money too what with tha' pretty face o' yours." The older man slurred, glazed eyes wandering almost hungrily over the pretty face before him. "Who knows, maybe he'll gimme a discount if I come ter pay fer yer services-argh!"
Mister Brown cried out as he crumpled over, both his grubby hands clutching at his privates as Peggy swiftly withdrew her closed fist, only to fling it straight into one of his eye sockets. Will watched half torn between worry and amusement as the old blacksmith fell with a heavy thud to the floor on his back, unconscious.
"Don't worry I didn't kill him." Peggy snorted, shaking out her hand as Will gingerly stooped to check the man's vitals.
"I should hope not," Will grunted as he dragged the older unconscious man by the scruff of his neck back into his chair by the hearth. "The last thing we need is for the officers to arrest you for murder. Especially on a day like today."
"I know, can you imagine? James Norrington's first act as Commodore of Port Royal, arresting a lowly washerwoman for murdering the blacksmith. What a courageous feat that would be." Peggy rolled her eyes as she looked around for a scuttle and broom to clear the broken shards of the rum bottle from the ground.
"Arresting you would be a courageous feat." Will smirked, grimacing slightly as he dusted his hands of the dirt he had felt on his master's grimy vest "I've never yet met a man or lad who has escaped unscathed from your wrath."
"Oh, good sir please stop, your flattery makes me weak in the knees." Peggy rolled her eyes as she carefully swept up all the glass from the floor and threw it in an old basket she had set next to the stove for disposal.
"I'm fine Will. He didn't lay a hand on me." She shook her head as she caught sight of Will's worried face from across the room.
"Are you sure? What about the glass?" he murmured, eyes going up and down her form. She did not look rattled, and the only signs of disarray or damage he could see was her stained apron, but still, he had to be certain.
"No, no damage done to me. And even if he had tried something I would have never let him get far." Peggy smiled reaching into her brown leather belt around her waist where a pair of sharp sewing scissors, with the handle designed to resemble a squid with two tentacles curled, were sheathed in a leather slip, ready to be taken out at a moment's notice. It had been a gift from Will for her last birthday, made for her in the forge to replace her old ones that had rusted and blunted months ago. In addition to being a very pretty tool for a young working woman, it came in handy as a defensive weapon if needed. Though Will dearly hoped she never would need to use it for cutting anything other than string.
"You should be careful." He murmured as he walked over to the dresser by the hearth to pick out his porringer from its customary spot as Peggy tested the consistency of the porridge on the hearth. "He's been making more and more of these threats as of late. I would not put it past him to try and sell you off to Baxter the next time he sinks into debt."
"I'd like to see him try," Peggy muttered, not meeting his eye. "Besides I doubt he has the guts to act on his threats. The drunk fool knows he cannot survive without someone picking up after him. He won't try anything truly terrible while you're around."
"Maybe, but I won't always be around." Will sighed heavily as he extracted a pair of small mugs from the dresser and searched around for a small bottle of ale. "What if you're alone here while I'm in the forge and he tries something? Or worse, what if I fell ill or dropped dead tomorrow?"
"Will you're being dramatic. You're not going to drop dead tomorrow. You're too stubborn to die. If anything, you're probably going to outlive us all." Peggy chuckled only to falter as his hand reached out to stop her from stirring the porridge.
"Peg please be serious." Will frowned holding both her hands in his. "You've only just come of age. You're unmarried and your landlord is a drunkard who spends the money you and I earn like water. You need to be more careful. As I said before I won't always be there to look out for you, and you can't just keep throwing punches to solve your problems or stab them with scissors…or challenge them to sword dual like you did with Harry Thompson." He added with a quirked brow.
"Oh please, even you said the little rodent deserved to be taught a lesson after the stunt he pulled." Peggy rolled her eyes as she tried to tug away but Will only held her hands tighter.
"Even so, there were other ways to solve the situation without swords." He tried again. "If the officers catch you duelling in the streets they'll-"
"I know-I know I'll be a good little woman from now on, so you don't have to worry so much."
"But I do worry. I worry a lot. And it's not about being a 'good little woman', Peggy. It's about your safety. Your future. Promise me you'll be more careful from now on-"
"Will-"
"Peggy-"
"Alright-alright I promise." Peggy pouted, keeping her face fixed on the porridge on the stove, only to have two of his fingers gently tilt her chin up to face him.
"Good. Now look me in the eye and say that again."
"Will-"
"Come on Peg. Please. For my sanity if not for yours?" he added, those big brown eyes of his widening pleadingly as she finally met his gaze.
"You and your puppy dog eyes." Peggy huffed with fond exasperation. "Fine! I promise I'll be more careful about how I handle things with Mister Brown from now on. And that includes not murdering him in his sleep with my scissors. Happy now?"
"I suppose that'll have to do," Will smirked and was pleased to feel the heavy atmosphere lift slightly as she once again rolled her eyes at him and snorted.
"Good. Now if you wouldn't mind releasing me from your bone-crushing grip, I might be able to finish serving breakfast."
"Forgive me." Will let her hands go quickly from his firm grasp, relieved when he saw no sign of mark from the point of contact.
"Relax William I was only joking. I know you would never hurt me like that." Peggy patted his arm consolingly before pulling the wooden spoon out and putting it up to her lips for a taste. "Hmm. That seems about right. Why don't you finish setting the table while I put the last finishing touches."
Breakfast was peaceful after that. Mister Brown slipped from unconsciousness into loud boorish snores as Will and Peggy both ate their morning meal and chatted idly about their plans for the day. Or rather Will fretted about his newest and possibly biggest delivery of his life while Peggy did her best to steady his nerves with calm reassurances and many gentle pats on the hand and arm.
Once they were finished, the pair of youths were quick to put another bottle of rum on the table for Mister Brown to find alongside his lukewarm bowl of porridge and a dismal half of a johnny cake (his punishment for disturbing the morning peace). While neither Will nor Peggy liked their employer-slash-landlord's drinking problem, keeping him well-supplied was the only way they could keep him safely out of their hair while they went about their daily schedules.
Also, if they supplied him it meant they could keep an eye on how much he spent on drink. Luckily for them, Will had been quick to pick up blacksmithing in his youth and had created a very strong lockbox in which they safely kept their earnings, all hidden neatly beneath a floorboard under Peggy's bed in her tiny room, along with a small ledger in which she managed and kept a record of all their finances. Only Peggy had the key, which she always wore under her shift around her neck on a chain along with a second key that fit into the extra padlock for her bedroom door, again one of Will's creations.
The young blacksmith offered to do the washing up as was his custom after breakfast, but Peggy was swift to herd him away from the sink.
"Oh no-no-no mister. You are not going anywhere near these dirty things until you've finished your delivery. Which reminds me-" she waggled a dishcloth-covered finger at him as she pointed to a small corner of the living space which was partitioned off by an old heavily patched curtain "I took a visit to the well earlier and filled the tub. I was able to launder and press your best clothes yesterday during my shift so all you have to do is scrub up and shave. Don't argue-" she put a finger over his lips even as he opened his mouth to protest. "This is a very important delivery for a very important occasion. Also, what would dear Lizzy think if you turned up at her stately house smelling of rum, soot and lye? Ahh, I see the light dawning in your eyes. Good. Now get moving." She swatted his chest playfully and was about to turn away when she felt Will's strong pair of arms grip her shoulders and pull her in for a firm but affectionate peck to her temple.
"Thank you."
"Yes-yes. You're welcome. Now off with you!" Peggy grumbled, her cheeks flushing dark crimson. "Don't want people thinking I'm a softy. I've got a reputation to maintain." She sniffed haughtily as she scrubbed hard at the spot his lips made contact.
"Yes, heaven forbid the neighbours start realising how sweet and charming you really are-Ow!" Will grinned as she swatted at him again with a washcloth. "Alright, I'm going! I'm going."
By all the sea gods and their minions, why did Missus Berry have to send me out ALONE to the docks today? Why? Where the hell is Lucy? Probably fooling around with her new beau. Peggy groaned softly to herself as she carried the loaded washing basket on her hip and tucked her coin purse in her dress pocket. It was barely mid-morning and already she had been put to work like a carthorse around the Fort Charles washhouse.
To top it all off she had been sent away on an errand by the head laundry maid to barter for more lye from the dockside merchants since someone forgot to place their usual order last week. Then she had to travel down the side of the Fortress's bluff to deliver the freshly cleaned linens for the HMS Interceptor before taking any dirty laundry back from the blasted ship because another certain someone also forgot to do that yesterday.
Normally Peggy did not mind going to the docks to barter for supplies. She enjoyed a good haggle and was good with money so Missus Berry trusted her with the task implicitly. However, carrying a heavy laundry basket up and down the high bluff above the harbour on her own was not something she enjoyed.
What was his name again Lewis? No Lewis was the last one? No…no his name was something-something Green? Richard. I want to say, Richard Green…I think. No that can't be right. Agh, what does it matter? If Lu does not slow down with the lads she could get in big trouble. The last thing Missus Berry wants is a repeat of what happened with poor Gracie. Peggy rolled her eyes as she approached the HMS Interceptor, which bobbed gently in the water at the end of the pier, just under the shadow of Fort Charles.
Sounds like the ceremony is already underway. Peggy craned her neck up to look at the edge of the Fort. Even from down here, she could hear the distant flutes and drumrolls of the Marine's parade. The stronghold itself was not that special. If anything, it was rather ineffectual as a means of defence. It had too few guns to ward off enemy ships, it was too high and far away for the citizens of Port Royal to flee to in times of crisis and the garrisons were far better at parades and stomping about on drills than fighting. Peggy would bet her left ear that she could beat nearly every officer in that fort in a sword fight, barring some of the senior officers like Lieutenant…no-no Commodore Norrington.
Something prickled on the back of her neck and Peggy turned around.
Nobody was behind her. Or rather, there were people behind her but they were all focussed on bustling about on their own business. Mostly it was men with carts and crates of wares being carted to and from the ships docked at port, boys running errands for their masters, or women manning some of the market stalls and the occasional, very bold whore standing by the entrance to one of the inns to lure in new customers.
And yet, Peggy could not help but feel as if she were being watched.
Probably one of the drunks taking a good leer. Peggy snorted as she turned back to her task, grateful for the sharp scissors that she had kept holstered on her belt since that morning. She had only ever had to use them once or twice to defend herself and they made a very good piercing weapon.
"Good morning Officer Murtog, Officer Mullroy." Peggy bobbed her head politely to the two red coats standing guard before the docked Interceptor.
"Mornin' Miss Blake." the officers said in unison, each of them blushing bright pink as she flashed them her sweetest smile. Contrary to what Will thought, Peggy was more than capable of not resorting to violence to get her way.
"Just you today Miss Blake?" Murtog stuttered, doing his best to swallow down his nerves as he looked around Peggy as if expecting someone else to pop out from behind her.
"Afraid so sir. Missus Berry has poor Agatha up to her elbows in dirty linen." Peggy grimaced apologetically at the poor, now crestfallen man. "But Agatha did say she would try to come down to visit you tomorrow and that she is counting down the hours till she can see dear John again. Excuse me" She stepped past the two officers, smirking with great amusement as the poor lovelorn man's shoulders sagged heavily.
"Don't worry mate. Your Aggie is bound to come around sooner or later." Officer Mullory patted his partner companionably on the shoulder "Besides, you know how strict Missus Berry is. Bet the old hag did it on purpose."
I would not be surprised if she did. Peggy agreed in her head as she strode up the gangplank and onto the deck. She smiled and sighed as the salty sea breeze hit her pleasantly in the face, countering the burning heat of the sun above. If only there was some way to attach a parasol to the back of her dress so she could keep her hands free for work.
Gods, she is a pretty ship. Peggy sighed wistfully as she meandered to the captain's quarters by the stern of the deck. Oh, how Peggy wished she could just pack her bags and sail aboard such a fine vessel. It had been too long since she'd been out at sea. Far too long. But unfortunately for her, she could not afford to board any boat, let alone leave Port Royal. If she was found she could be-
She was jolted out of her grim thoughts as something warm, soft and fuzzy slid past her legs.
"Goddammit! What the-Oh…hello there." Peggy's face split into a warm smile as she spotted a fluffy snow-white cat standing by her feet with two big bright yellow eyes. It did not have a collar or any ribbon or string around its neck so clearly it did not belong to the ship.
"You're very pretty, did you come from the docks love?" she cooed down at the animal as it wound its way around her shins, impeding her progress towards the captain's bed. "Oh-careful now! Whoa! Close one. Come on kitty please I need to get-oh come on! Yes, yes you're very sweet and I'd very much like to pet you but I need to change these sheets first."
Her progress in changing the sheets was slow as the cat continued to rub up against her and paw at her for attention. She, for Peggy had checked, was also a very vocal little critter mewing and chirping with every headbutt to her body.
"Are you hungry? Huh? Is that why you're so clingy?" she sighed as she finally finished loading the basket, scratching the kitty behind the ear. Boy, this feline was pining for something hard. Funny that it did not look too thin. Then again there were plenty of rats along the pier for it to feed on…there were also plenty of rats lurking around Mister Brown's Smithy.
May not be a bad idea, she might keep the forge good and clear of vermin, and it would be nice to have some company in the long evenings. Peggy mused with a small smile only to pause as she heard a series of thuds above her head. Footsteps, she realised, but their gate was very, very odd…and eerily familiar.
"That's strange?" Peggy frowned up at the ceiling, only to wince as she heard a voice shout.
"OY! YOU! Get away from there!" it was Murtog or Mullroy. Peggy could not tell which officer it was, but it was one of their voices. "You're not supposed to be aboard here mate!"
But if Murtog and Mullroy were shouting at someone to go away then who was standing above her head?
She heard someone answer above her head in muffled tones. It was a man, even his gate as he thudded above seemed to suggest a man's weight. Gods where had she heard those steps before? It was on the tip of her tongue…
"What's your name?" one of the officers barked warily.
"Smith, or Smithy if you'd like?" the voice was clearer now as it passed by the frosted panes of glass that decorated the doors of the captain's quarters.
Again Peggy was hit by a massive wave of de-ja-vu. Oh, she had heard that voice before. It was too familiar to be a stranger. No, she knew this man and she knew him well.
Carefully as she dared she crept out the door and chanced a peek over the stairs to the helm.
She could see Mullroy and Murtog with their backs to her, their rifles drawn and muskets armed at the tips, both of them aiming straight at a man who stood by the ship's wheel.
"And what's your purpose in Port Royal Mister Smith?"
"Yeah and no lies."
"Oh no." Peggy gasped softly as she beheld the figure.
He was a man of average height, with heavily tanned skin that shone with sweat and grime after days of not being able to wash. His brown hair was heavily dreadlocked with a red bandanna tied around his on which a lock of hair was beaded and tipped with a small coin. He wore a brown coat and hat over dark hard-wearing linen trousers that reeked of rum and salt. Around his waist was a red sash and many belts tied over a faded blue waistcoat and stained and ripped white undershirt while his brown leather boots were stained and faded with wear and tear. But it was his face that held Peggy's attention as she caught sight of his profile beneath the old scratched black hat. Dark brows, a goatee with two thin twin beards…and a pair of wicked and intelligent dark brown eyes lined with black kohl that sparkled with mischief as he beheld the two nervous officers.
"All right then. I confess. It is my intention to commandeer one of these ships, pick up a crew in Tortuga to rape, pillage and pilfer me weasely black guts out."
"I said no lies!" Murtogg almost whined, the sound so pathetic it almost made Peggy roll her eyes.
"I think he's tellin' the truth," Mullroy muttered confusedly.
"If he were tellin' the truth, he wouldn't have told us."
"Unless of course, he knew you wouldn't believe the truth even if he told it to you." the strange man smirked, and it took Peggy all she had not to clock her head on the deck.
Oh, this was bad. This was really, REALLY bad! Why, oh why was HE of all people here in Port Royal? Did he follow her here? Was he the one that had been watching her earlier?
Which one of the sea gods hates me? Seriously what did I do to deserve this today of all days? Peggy groaned softly to herself as she darted back into the captain's quarters and began shoving all the dirty laundry back into her basket. She didn't even care if she missed an item. There was no way in any of the Circles of Hell she was sticking around while HE was on this ship.
Peggy had worked too hard and too long to make a decent life for herself here in Port Royal for the likes of him to come and ruin everything. And he would ruin everything. He always found a way to stir up trouble, and this time she was NOT going to be in the line of fire.
As he was led down to the main deck by the two blundering buffoons in red to explain his story, Jack Sparrow watched as the maid did her best to sneak out of the ship's captain's quarters with her large laundry basket, a fluffy white cat following hot on her heels.
The first thing he could not help but note was her comely figure, half hidden beneath that awful brown dress. All natural curves and yet strong and toned from years of hard labour. A single curl of fiery copper had escaped her silly little cap and shone brightly under the Caribbean sun as she chanced a glance back at him from the gangplank, revealing a young face with soft freckled cheeks and light tan from hours in the sun.
Jack flashed her one of his most charming little grins, one that always flustered the wenches and made them blush and titter about. However, all he received in return was a pair of pale grey-blue orbs narrowed back at him with such ice and venom he almost took a step back.
Yikes, what crawled up her knickers and died? He grimaced, though strangely his eyes refused to move away from the woman's back. Something about that glare had tickled the back of his mind something fierce.
He had seen that look before. Then again he had broken a lot of hearts and many women across the seas had been angry at him for some reason or another. But no. This lass was far too young to have been one of his past conquests, and he would certainly have remembered bedding a pretty little redhead like her. Had he slept with her sister? Her mother? Oh heavens if she was an offspring of his that would be the giddy limit, and yet she did not look a fig like him, nor had he ever visited Port Royal in all his years travelling the seas so the chances of her knowing him were slim. And yet…he felt like he knew her somehow…
His thoughts were interrupted when the two red coats before him quickly wheeled about to see what he was looking at and almost jumped in surprise as they found the tips of their muskets pointed directly at the woman's face.
Jack almost sneered with annoyance at the two officer's lack of care as one of the blades at the end of one of their guns came so close to the tip of the woman's nose it was nearly grazing it.
Yet to Jack's admiration, the woman barely flinched at the blade's proximity even as she gently pushed it aside.
"Gentlemen."
"O-Oh Miss Blake, we're very sorry. We forgot you were on board." The plumper of the two men spluttered as he and his friend both lowered the nozzles of their muskets as they tried to plaster pleasant smiles back on their faces.
"Blake…" Jack muttered under his breath.
Blake…Miss Blake…Now that does ring a bell…
"That's quite alright Officers." The young woman nodded graciously at them, her voice impressively calm despite the fact she had had two guns pointed right at her face mere seconds ago. "I just wrapped up here so I'll leave you to deal with Mister Smith shall I."
The two officers blinked as they suddenly remembered their earlier tasks.
"Aye, that would be for the best miss. You run along now and stay safe." The thinner of the men nodded with relief as she turned on her heel and stalked off towards the gangplank.
That's interesting. Jack mused to himself as he watched her leave. Was it just him, or was Miss Blake desperately trying to cover her face from him?
That's very interesting.
Dammit-dammit-dammit!
Peggy cursed herself as she sped across the gangplank and back onto the pier. Of all the times she had to run into that bloody bugger it had to be today!
And stupid, STUPID Mullroy had to go and say her name aloud. Yes, he only said her surname but still Jack Sparrow was a clever man. Even if he hadn't recognised her at first, it would not be long till he put the pieces together. And Jack would figure it out she was sure of it. For all his oddities and cavalier attitude, the man could not leave a mystery alone once it caught his attention.
She was quick to reach the upper level of the dock where she paused to catch her breath, her hand clutching to her throbbing chest. Gods when she had made eye contact with him earlier she had thought her heart would leap out of her throat.
He had not changed much in the ten years since she last saw him. Perhaps his hair was longer, and he was looking a tad thinner and more grubby, but he was still very much good old Jack. The smell of rum and musk even from a distance was certainly unmistakable as had been his little smirk at her.
How many times had she seen him flash the same charming smile at the wenches he lured back to his bed? Ugh! Too many times. The fact he had turned that look upon her almost made her want to throw up.
Peggy smirked as she wondered if he would still be so flirtatious once he realised who she was. Oh, the look on his face when he realised who he was flirting with would probably be so priceless.
But now was not the time to test out this theory, not when his mere presence threatened the existence of her humble and quiet hideaway. She had to get to the washhouse, she'd be safe near the fort. Or would she? He had seen her with a laundry basket on a naval ship so there was a chance he could track her down to her place of work.
No, not the washhouse, that would not do. Should she pull a sick day and head straight back to the forge? Will would be there; he would gladly keep her out of sight…but he would also start asking questions if Jack came poking his nose into-
A loud splashing sound caught her attention and Peggy turned her head back to the ship just in time to hear a man's distant voice scream from high above:
"ELIZABETH!"
"What the-Elizabe-Agh! OW!" Peggy cried out clutching at her right wrist as the skin began to burn, eyes shutting tight so that she missed seeing the second splash of water, and the strange pulse that throbbed throughout the water's surface.
However, what she lacked in sight, she felt through the soles of her boots…and it rocked her to her core.
"Shit." Peggy dropped her basket to the ground and ran back to the Interceptor, hiking up her skirts to her knees as she ran, propriety be damned. So panicked she was that she did not notice the once very subtle calm wind suddenly start whipping around her, stirring the water and stripping the bonnet right from her head so that her coppery red curls streamed out behind her.
"Mullroy! Murtog! What happened?" She called to Murtog and Mullroy who were both standing at the port side of the deck in shock.
"Miss Blake-she-they-he-" Murtog sputtered face flicking in shock between Peggy and the water where a foamy white patch was dissolving as a dark shape moved beneath the surface.
"Someone fell from the bluff!" Mullroy shouted. "A lady! Mister Smith dove in to save her."
"A lady?! But who-" Peggy stopped as she remembered the man's screams from high above. "Oh my god Lizzy!" She cried out as Mister Smith's head broke through the surface of the water briefly, only to sink back under as something heavy weighed him down.
Must be that dress of hers. All that silk weighs a ton when it's wet. Peggy bit her lip as she saw said garment, a beautifully embroidered gold silk mantua, strip away from one of the shadows beneath and float just beneath the surface
It did not take long for Jack to swim back up to the surface with his damsel, but for once Peggy was not focussing on the man. Her attention was on the young woman he dragged up onto the nearby dock with Murtog and Mullroy's help.
"Lizzy!" she cried out as she slid to her knees. On her back lay a woman in her white shift and corset. Her dark blonde hair was damp and her pretty dainty face was pale, the lips tinged slightly blue from hypothermia as she struggled to draw breath. Peggy's eyes fell to the corset and down to the woman's waist.
She sighed and rolled her eyes. Good lord no wonder she could not breathe. Some idiots had sinched her in far too tight. Elizabeth Swann was a slender woman it was true, but she was not that tiny.
"She's not breathing!" Mullroy cried out as Peggy whipped out her scissors and shoved him aside.
"Yes she is, move over!" she swiped down. Peggy found herself silently thanking Will in her head for his skilled craftsmanship, for the scissor blade easily slid and sliced through the flimsy laces like butter, allowing Jack's hands to rip the cursed undergarment apart with ease.
There was a cough and a wet splutter as a pair of bright blue eyes suddenly snapped open in relief.
"That's it Lizzy. Let it all out." Peggy cooed gently, pulling Elizabeth's long blonde locks away from her face as her fellow woman rolled over to her front to cough up salt water.
"P-Peggy?" Elizabeth gasped as Peggy rubbed her shoulders soothingly.
"Yes, it's me. Don't worry you're safe now Lizzy."
"Never would have thought of that!" Mullroy said with admiration as Jack shoved the ruined corset into Murtog's shocked grasp.
"Clearly you've never been to Singapore. Not like you and I 'ey Peg?" Jack smirked softly in Peggy's ear, enjoying the way her whole body seized up as she narrowed her eyes at him dangerously.
He was grinning at her, his deep brown eyes twinkling with wicked glee as they drifted over her face and up to her hair.
With a jolt, Peggy reached up and felt to her horror her copper curls trailing in the wind behind her free and loose.
She looked around wildly for her bonnet, only to see it floating in the now rough, choppy waters behind her, too far away for her to reach from the safety of the dock.
She turned back to snarl at Jack, hand gripping her scissors tight at the ready, only to see he was now looking down on Elizabeth's prone form as she rolled back over onto her back, a grubby hand reaching out to her chest.
Peggy was about to swat his wandering hands away when she noticed something gold gleaming in the now-grey sunlight.
It was a medallion on a gold chain, ornate and very old, with a grinning golden skull at the centre.
Oh no…oh no-no-no-no-no! Peggy felt all the blood in her veins turn to ice as Jack lifted the eery piece to inspect it. He too was looking at the trinket with dark, wary eyes.
"Where did you get that?" he breathed as he locked eyes with Elizabeth.
But as the woman opened her mouth to speak the metal tip of a sword suddenly seemed to materialise between Jack's eyes.
"On your feet!" a man's voice snapped coldly.
Peggy looked up and cursed silently as she caught sight of a whole squadron of red coats led at the front by the navy-coated form of the new Commodore James Norrington looking all clean and official in his new dress uniform and white wig. Behind him an older aristocratic man with a long powdered grey wig, and a large hat with a blue feather rushed forward quickly, shedding his baby blue long coat as he bent to scoop Elizabeth to her feet.
"Elizabeth! Are you alright?" Governor Swann's hands trembled as he fumbled to draw his coat over his soaked daughter.
"Yes. Yes, I'm fine" Elizabeth shivered as she felt Peggy's hands reach out to help her father in his task, pulling her back and safely away from Jack's reach.
Noticing her wariness, Governor Swann looked at Jack and gasped as he took in the appearance of his daughter's saviour. It did not matter which way you sliced it, the man before him was a pirate.
"Shoot him!" Governor Swann cried out but Elizabeth steamrolled over him.
"Father! Commodore, do you really intend to kill my rescuer?"
There was a silence as Commodore Norrington met Elizabeth's beseeching gaze, the coldness in his eyes softening just a tad as he noted her wet and sorry state. With a quick nod, his men lowered their muskets, and he sheathed his sword.
Despite the tense situation, Peggy could not help but smirk as she spared a glance at the Commodore's sword hilt. She had to hand it to Will, he had outdone himself this time. The gold filigree did look lovely on the hilt and seamlessly fit in with the rest of the Commodore's dress uniform.
"I believe a thanks are in order." Norrington held out a clean and pale hand towards Jack, who carefully took it in one of his grimy ones, the many rings on his fingers glinting in the sun as he was jerked forward hard.
Peggy braced herself by grabbing Elizabeth's hand tight in hers as Norrington moved his grip up to Jack's wrist, his other hand roughly pulling up a ripped sleeve to expose a burnt brand on the skin. A brand in the shape of the letter P.
"Had a brush with the East India Trading Company did we, Pirate?" Norrington almost spat out the word with such venom that Peggy had to turn away.
"Hang him!" Governor Swann ordered and at once the officers all raised their muskets once more as their commanding officer barked.
"Keep the guns on him men, Gilette, fetch some irons!" Norrington spared no time in exposing more of Jack's arm revealing a tattoo of a sparrow flying over an ocean horizon. "Well, well. Jack Sparrow isn't it."
"Captain Jack Sparrow. If you please, sir." Jack corrected the Commodore as he yanked his hand away, sparing a tiny glance at Peggy.
What are you doing? Don't look my way you fool! She bit her lip, purposefully looking at anywhere but Jack's face. No way, nuh-uh was there any way she was going to be hung alongside him. Nuh-Uh! Nope, not on her watch.
Luckily for her Norrington did not seem to notice the silent exchange as he sneered at Jack mockingly.
"I don't see your ship, Captain."
"I'm in the market, as it were," Jack replied quickly.
"Said he'd come to commandeer one." Murtog piped in helpfully.
"Told you he was tellin' the truth." Mullroy grinned almost gleefully as he brought out an armful of various items including Jack's coat and hat "These are his sir."
Norrington quickly reached his hand towards the bundle and took out a black pistol. A very familiar black pistol.
"No additional shot, nor powder."
It almost hurt Peggy to watch as Norrington put the gun back and picked up a small black compass with a small snort of disdain.
"A compass which doesn't point North."
"And it never will," Peggy muttered under her breath, wincing as both Norrington and Jack glanced at her for a moment, the latter's brown eyes glinting with faint amusement.
Thankfully neither man focussed on her for long and Peggy sighed with relief as Norrington slid Jack's sword an inch out of its sheath with a small sneer.
"And I half expected it to be made of wood. You are without doubt the worst pirate I have ever heard of."
"But you have heard of me." Jack grinned impishly, especially pleased when Norrington's nostrils flared with anger at his cheek.
"Commodore I really must protest!" Elizabeth her father off as Norrington dragged Jack away towards his lieutenant who had a pair of iron cuffs ready to be fastened.
"Carefully lieutenant." He commanded briskly only to be cut off from the new prisoner as Elizabeth placed herself between him and Jack, dragging Peggy alongside her by the hand.
"Pirate or not this man saved my life."
"One good deed is not enough to redeem a man of a lifetime of wickedness." Norrington said being careful to keep his rage in check, though the veil seemed to thin even more as the pirate chimed in:
"Though it seems enough to condemn him."
"Indeed." Norrington spat, not noticing the way Jack's lips twitched upwards as the shackles were secured around his wrists.
But Peggy had seen the look as well as the glance he shot at her face as he whispered:
"Finally."
"Look out!"
With the swiftness of a snake he lunged forwards bringing his cuffed hands around so as to wrap his chains around his front.
But to his surprise, it was not Peggy he had managed to snag in his grip, for she had been pushed bodily towards Norrington, the impact almost bowling him over.
No, it was around Elizabeth's pale throat that the chain tightened around. Jack was quick to adjust his bearings of the situation and was even more pleased to hear Governor Swann's desperate cry:
"NO! Don't shoot!"
"I knew you'd warm up to me." Jack hissed into Elizabeth's ear, keeping his gaze fixed on Norrington's now stiff form as he picked himself and Peggy back up, gallantly pushing the red-haired woman behind him to shield her. "Commodore Norrington my effects please, and my hat! Give them to Miss Blake there. A smart lass like her should know what to do with them. Commodore!" he barked.
"Elizabeth, it's Elizabeth isn't it?"
"It's Miss Swann" Elizabeth spat.
There was a silence as Norrington, defeatedly, gestured for Mullroy to give Peggy Jack's effects. Peggy took them gingerly, her fingers unconsciously tracing the handle of the black pistol.
Now that she got a closer look at the gun, she realised with a jolt, that it was the same one he always used from ten years ago. How many times had she watched him shoot it in battle, or when he was drunk?
"Come on love we don't have all day." Jack jerked his head at Peggy sharply.
Peggy cursed as she felt her body obey on autopilot. Even after all these years, the bastard still knew how to order her like a dog.
She quickly handed the effects to Elizabeth, hoping that her face betrayed nothing of her nerves as Jack quickly snatched the pistol first from the top and directed it at the noblewoman's temple as he spun her around to face him.
"Now, if you'll be very kind." He smirked.
Peggy had to give Elizabeth credit, she was not whimpering or cowering under the pressure. Instead, her face hardened into a stubborn frown as she carefully placed his hat on his head before turning to strap on his leather belts and holsters.
"Easy on the goods darling." Jack grinned as the noblewoman drew herself in close to buckle his belt diagonally across his shoulder and chest.
"You're despicable." She snarled softly under her breath.
"Sticks and stones love." Jack chuckled at her boldness as he felt her slender hand tuck his compass into his sash. "I save your life you save mine, we're square."
The officers all raised their muskets quickly as Jack spun Elizabeth around, keeping his gun pressed hard against her jaw.
"Gentleman, ladies." He winked at Peggy whose lip curled as her cheeks flushed with rage. "You will always remember this as the day you almost caught…Captain Jack Sparrow!" the last words came as a loud shout as with a great effort, he withdrew the chains from around his captive's neck and threw her right into Peggy, who in turn fell backward into Norrington who promptly fell back onto his behind on the deck.
As half the shocked officers shouted and rushed forward in confusion, Jack was quick to grab on a nearby rope and kick away the weight holding it down. With a rush of air, he zoomed up one of the pully systems supporting an airborne swivel cannon, the large device smashing straight through the wooden deck and sending soldiers toppling straight into the cold water below.
Meanwhile, high above, Jack Sparrow started swinging around and around the pully post like a tennis ball on a string.
Peggy could have almost facepalmed at the sight. Of course, Jack would find a way to escape most dramatically and obscenely possible.
"Now will you shoot him?!" Governor Swann
"Open fire!" Norrington yelled and Peggy quickly drew Elizabeth back down to the ground.
"Stay low!" she shouted, throwing herself on top of Elizabeth to shield her from any falling or potential ricochets as several guns blasted off right next to them.
High above her she could hear Jack's yells of terror as he was swung around and around a few more times, each loop his body getting slightly lower to the ground. Luckily for him, there was just enough of a pause between gunshots for him to land a safe way away on another high beam on another pully system.
"Burn his heels!" Norrington shouted as the pirate quickly looped his chains around the top of a rope and sliding down it like a flying fox.
It did not take him long to zip down to the ground where he quickly burst into a haphazard sprint towards dry land.
I see some things don't change. Peggy sighed as she watched the pirate run, his arms flailing about in every single direction like a puppet left to hang in the wind.
"Men after him!" One of the lieutenants shouted as he led several officers after the pirate's path.
"Gillette," Norrington snapped at his second in command. "Mister Sparrow has a dawn appointment with the gallows. I would hate for him to miss it."
Oh, Jack…Peggy gulped as she watched the lieutenant's face split into a smug, arrogant grin. What have you brought upon yourself this time? and why did you have to bring me into it?
Will Turner sighed as drained the ale from his small tin cup.
It had been a good morning for him thus far. He had delivered his latest commission and it had been received well by the Governor. True, the nobleman had mistaken his work for Mister Brown's, but Will did not mind. Heaven forbid, if they found any fault with the blade he could always pass the buck onto his drunk master. Will always prided himself on being an honest man, but even he was not above occasionally bending the truth if it helped rather than hindered.
And he needed to maintain some semblance of respectability. How else would he be able to get better work from the nobility? Better work that could help keep him and his small foster family safe and secure, as well as afford him more chances to see Elizabeth.
He knew it was foolish of him. Elizabeth belonged to a whole other world so far above him that he was but a speck on the ground. Though it was clear from their meeting this morning that she still valued their childhood friendship it was foolish of him to hope she would ever give up her perfect life for someone of his calibre.
She was a noblewoman and the daughter of the Governor. He was just an orphaned blacksmith apprentice to the town drunk. The idea of such a match might sound romantic to many but even Will, as hopeful as he was, knew deep down there was little he could do to make it a reality.
So he settled for loving her from afar and being there for her if she ever needed him.
"Quick check upstairs!"
"He must have gone this way!"
Will blinked and quickly rushed over to the window to look down at the street below.
Soldiers were running hither and thither; some had their muskets raised and ready to fire while others shoved civilians aside or into the safety of their homes.
"Bloody Pirate! Spread out he can't have gone far!"
"Pirate?" Will's eyes widened in alarm.
Pirates were few and far between at Port Royal, but most of them were usually apprehended before they could leave the docks. Many of the sailors and merchants that came into the harbour were only too happy to rat out the miscreants if only to earn a few extra coins and gain favour with the navy.
The docks…
"Peggy." Will breathed, horror seizing him as he scanned the bustling street below. She was often sent down to the docks for Missus Berry's errands. If there was a dangerous pirate wandering the streets of Port Royal…Will sucked in a deep breath to calm the racing thoughts in his head.
No-no. Peggy was probably fine. Even if she had been at the docks when the pirate was lurking about she was more than capable of defending herself or at the very least running and finding somewhere safe to hide. She always seemed to be oddly calm in the face of danger.
Still… it did not sit well with him knowing she was out there with only her tiny scissors at hand against a foe that would probably have at least one cutlass or a gun.
He sighed with relief as he spotted a familiar head of coppery red curls at the end of the street limping quickly in the direction of the forge. Wait limping?
"Will!" She cried out as she caught sight of his face in the window.
Heart hammering, he rushed downstairs to the front door and pulled it open just as the woman to whom the bright head of hair belonged to, ran up to the stairs and promptly slipped on them in her haste.
"That bastard. That ruddy, crummy, slippery little jackal!" Peggy snarled in frustration as Will grabbed her by the elbows and guided her inside shutting the door behind him, completely unaware of a pair of brown eyes watching both of them in the shadows behind a metal statue right next to the door to the nearby forge below.
Will quickly led Peggy over to a stool by the nearly dead hearth where she was quick to hike her skirts up above one very bloodied and scraped knee.
"You're sure you're not hurt anywhere else?" Will's voice came out in a rush as he began sponging off the blood from the grazed skin.
"I'm fine! I'm fine!" Peggy growled irritably, wincing as he accidentally pressed to hard into the wound. "That bloody pirate has got everyone in a right tiz."
"The pirate, he did this to you?" Will's nostrils flared as he carefully brought her hand to hold the cloth against the wound while he searched for another cloth to bind it.
"No. This is the work of those redcoats outside. Stupid headless chickens the lot of them. Shoved me to the side and I slipped. I tell you; they make that sodding pirate look like a right gentleman."
"You saw the pirate?!" Will's eyes widened in alarm. "What happened? He didn't-"
"No-no! it wasn't like that" Peggy shook her head. "Look here's what happened."
She quickly explained what happened at the dock, leaving out a few small details of course hoping to god Will was too worried to notice. But whatever hopes she had of avoiding the pirate were dashed when she told him about his failed attempt to hold her hostage and take Elizabeth instead. She had never seen her friend so angry in her life. She just hoped to the Sea Gods he would not lose his temper and storm off to find Jack and try to challenge him to a duel to the death.
"How dare he." Will growled as he carefully started to wrap her injured limb with a bandage. "If only I could have walked you to the pier."
"And done what? He wasn't being a threat until the Commodore arrived with all his men."
"I could have fought him."
Peggy pinched the bridge of her nose. "Now who's the one being reckless."
"This is different." Will protested hotly. "This is a pirate we're talking about."
"Exactly." Peggy put her hand over his to stop his wrapping. "He's a pirate Will, and not just any pirate, but one who's evaded capture by the EITC and the Royal Navy for years. People like him don't last that long without getting some blood on their hands." she bent forward to look Will in the eye, her hand gripping his tight.
"Just promise me you won't seek a fight with him."
"Peg-"
"You asked me to promise you not to be reckless this morning. Now it's your turn to promise me you won't go looking for trouble."
"Very well, I won't go out looking for the pirate." Will grunted mulishly as he finished tying the knot of cotton "But if I do cross paths with him do not expect me to let it slide."
"Hrrgh!" Peggy groaned. "Will-"
"Peggy you're one of my dearest friends. And Elizabeth…" Will trailed off with flushed cheeks and shook his head out like a horse trying to dislodge a fly "Look the point is, this man threatened to hurt the both of you. You cannot expect me to just sit around and let either yours or Elizabeth's honour to be disgraced by him."
They both glowered at one another, but Peggy was quick to break eye contact as her injured knee began to throb.
"I'm fine. It's just sore. I just need to rest a bit."
Will chewed on the inside of his cheek as he chanced a glance back at the door. He did not have anything else he needed to work on today. Even if he did, he was sure that no one would begrudge him for staying to protect his home from a dangerous pirate. Still, he did not like the idea of leaving Peggy alone in their dwelling with a lame leg and without any weapon to defend herself.
"Wait right here. I just need to pick up something from the forge. I won't be long."
"Five minutes." Peggy quirked a brow at him. "I mean it, Mister Turner. You better be back home in five minutes, or I'll hunt you down and drag you back in here myself."
Jack Sparrow peeked out from behind a few empty crates as the young, dark-haired blacksmith he had seen with Peggy entered the door of the smithy's forge.
It was turning out to be a strange day and no mistake. First, that noble lass falling off a cliff because of some stupidly tied corset, the stupid navy officers trying and failing to catch him. But the true cherry on top of the crème had to be coming face to face with little Peggy Blake after all these years. Only she was not so little anymore.
Now she was a woman, a very fetching one at that, he mused as he recalled seeing her on the dock. If she were a stranger to him he would have felt no shame nor hesitation to try and woo her back to his bed for some fun. But alas, given their past, such actions would make things too complicated and messy even for him. Speaking of relations, he wondered what her relationship with this blacksmith boy was.
What had she called him again? Bill or Will?
Whoever he was, he was handsome, Jack would give him that. Youthful face with a boyish charm and warm brown eyes. But there was such a clear air of sickeningly wholesome whelpishness that made the pirate grimace in disgust.
Seriously Little Peggy? This is your chosen beau? I bet he can't even handle a sword that well.
Then again, Peggy had always been incredibly fierce, even as a little 'un. Perhaps she liked whelps because they were easier to bend to her will. Yes, that did seem more her style. Someone weak-willed and simpering that she could boss around and would obey without question. It would explain how she had managed to survive as a single woman in such a big port like this.
Jack watched the lad carefully as he stripped off his jacket and loosened his collar and vest. He did not seem to have any weapon on him. Still, Jack found his fingers carefully sliding around the guard of a nice sabre nearby. It was, Jack noted, a rather well-made weapon, with a good grip and decent balance. He just hoped it was sharp enough.
The whelp meanwhile had not noticed the movement for his attention was on the much older drunkard sitting on a rickety old chair in the corner of the forge, rum bottle held tight in his grip.
"Right where I left you." Young Will shook his head with an exasperated smile which was quick to fade as something in the corner of his eye caught his attention.
Ah…knew I was forgetting something. Jack cursed silently to himself as the whelp caught sight of his hat which was sitting right next to where a hammer had been carelessly left on top of a heavy anvil.
"Not where I left you." the boy reached out with curious fingers, only to jump slightly as Jack tapped the flat of his blade against his knuckles.
The shock only lasted a moment on the young blacksmith's face before twisting into a dark glower.
"You're the one they're looking for. The pirate!" he spat the title out like a curse as he stepped out of range of the sword's point.
Jack paused as he looked the lad up and down, the familiar tingles of de-ja-vu tickling the back of his neck once more as he took in the boy's face. Now where had he seen that grimly determined expression?
"You seem somewhat familiar, have I threatened you before?" he asked.
"I make a point of avoiding familiarity with pirates" the boy hissed, and Jack found himself grinning. Avoiding familiarity with pirates? Oh, the irony.
Now it all made sense. No wonder little Peggy was so displeased to see him. He was ruining whatever con she was pulling over this poor, stupid whelp's eyes. Well, loathe be him to disrupt a lady's well-laid plans.
"Ah, is that so?" Jack said out loud, willing himself not to give the game away too quickly. No, this delicious morsel of information he was going to keep for later. "Well, then it would be such a shame to put a black mark on your record, now if you'll excuse me." He turned to grab his hat only to turn around and find a sword now pointed between his eyes.
So not just stupid, but reckless as well.
"Do you think it wise boy? Crossing blades with a pirate…" Jack stalked forward and was impressed when the boy only raised his sword with a calm level gaze.
"You threatened Miss Swann and endangered my friend."
"Only a little," Jack smirked as he tauntingly dragged the sharp edge of his weapon against his adversary's.
Then he lunged.
Where's Will got to? I told him five minutes. And it's now well over ten.
Peggy scowled as she gingerly pulled herself back onto her feet and hobbled towards the front door. Her knee wasn't too bad after a bit of rest. It only looked worse than it actually was. Still, she was careful not to move too fast down the front stairs as she made her way to the forge below their home.
Ye God if he's gone after Jack I'll bloody kill him myself. She growled as she carefully unlocked the Forge door only to stop dead in her tracks.
There was a sword embedded in the wood of the door. The flat of its blade almost hit her in the face, and her eyes reflected blurrily back at her in the dull metallic surface.
What the? She looked into the forge but that did not help her confusion for the sight that met her eyes was even more chaotic.
Ethel the donkey was anxiously pacing round and round her wheel, bleating shrilly as two figures spun around the posts, their swords sending red hot sparks flying into the air.
"You've got to be joking?" Peggy facepalmed as she recognised Will's determined scowl and Jack's sweaty confused glances at all the swords that spun around on the racks above and below. They were so engrossed in their fighting one another they hadn't even noticed Peggy was standing there gaping at them like a fish.
"Who makes all these?" Jack asked.
"I do!" Will grunted as he aimed an attack from around the rotating beam. "And I practice with them." he ducked as Jack haphazardly threw a sword at his face "-three hours a day."
"You need to find yourself a girl mate!" Jack leapt off the device to fling a hammer at Will's head, which the blacksmith was quick to dodge before jabbing his weapon forward in a quick succession of lunges that Will parried.
Peggy had to hand it to Will, he was holding his own against the pirate quite well, and this was saying a lot as Jack was one of the most skilled swordsmen she had ever met. But unlike Jack, whose entire body was relaxed and calm even as he parried and blocked on the defence, Will was far too angry in his attack. Too angry, wide and aggressive. Whereas Jack moved around the space as smoothly as if taking steps in a dance even as he taunted:
"Or…perhaps the reason you practice three hours a day is because you've already found one and are otherwise incapable of wooing said strumpet." Jack paused and looked down at Will's pants before grimacing back over his shoulder at Peggy "He's not a eunuch is he love? If he is then I'd advise you to cut your losses and find yourself a new pet. One that's better endowed and can take care of all your needs." He waggled his eyebrows cheekily and Peggy rolled her eyes.
Will, however, was incensed at the jibe. He could not care less about the insult to his manhood, but the gall this pirate had. How dare he speak to the woman he had tried to threaten barely an hour ago as if she were one of his filthy fellow pirates. Just where did he find the audacity?
"Keep her out of this! I practice three hours a day so that when I meet a pirate I can kill it!" He snarled, thankful that Peggy took that moment to quietly slip out of the forge as he re-engaged the despicable disgusting cad in combat. If she could just get the soldiers here they might be able to arrest the pirate and cart him off to the gallows where he belonged.
Sea Gods give me strength. Peggy groaned to herself as she quickly shut the door behind her. Of course, Jack could not settle for crashing into her life at the docks, he just had to slither his way into her home too.
Ah well, at least Will was able to hold his own for a little bit.
Now where are those blasted officers? I could have sworn I saw a patrol dash past a few seconds ago. Peggy bit her lip as she marched through the street to check on a nearby corner. Drats. Just when she needed those damned naval officers there would be none to be found.
Typical. Just typica-oof! She winced as she ran headlong right into the chest of a man and bounced backwards off of him.
"Oy watch where you're going! O-oh…shit." She gulped as she recognised the pair of hands that grabbed her to stop her from falling back onto her rear.
"Miss Blake. We meet again." Commodore Norrington sniffed haughtily; eyebrows raised. However, despite his appraisal of her rather dishevelled, less-than-stellar state he was gentle as he helped her steady herself on her feet. Behind him, a small band of several red coats stood with their muskets at the ready.
"Commodore." Peggy coughed, avoiding his eye. "Forgive me sir, I did not mean to bump into you."
"You are forgiven Miss Blake, though I am surprised to see you out and about. I gave orders for you and all the other civilians to take shelter in your homes until we catch the pirate."
"And I obeyed those orders to the letter sir." Peggy smiled coldly through gritted teeth as she pulled her arm out of his grip. "Only, when I arrived back at home it was to find said pirate inside and waiting for me."
"I see," Norrington's face hardened as he gestured to his men to raise their guns. "Well, then it is most fortuitous that you were able to escape so quickly. Now if you would be so kind as to lead me and my men to Sparrow that would be most helpful."
"Of…Of course sir. Right this way." Peggy nodded stiffly as she turned on her heel to stalk back to the forge, doing her best to squash the uncomfortable churning in her gut as she saw the new commodore draw his own pistol from its holster.
God, Will please don't do anything foolish. She crossed her fingers behind her back as she led the small squadron to the forge door only to get pulled back by Norrington before she could unlock it.
"Best leave this to the professionals Miss Blake. The last thing we want is to give the pirate another hostage to use."
Peggy seethed but kept her mouth shut as the soldiers began shouldering the door hard, throwing all their weight on it with inelegant thuds.
Those fools they're going to damage the hinges if they're not careful. Peggy pursed her lips and folded her arms as one man finally managed to break through by landing a very hard kick right into the centre of the door. And there goes our security against thieves.
Peggy quietly and calmly followed Norrington as he and his men rushed in her eyes darting warily around the forge. Aside from the haphazardly strewn hammers and swords that had been thrown during the fight nothing seemed damaged and there was no blood that she could see.
Will was standing looking dazed at the ground, his face and hair covered in brown sawdust. Mister Brown was on his feet, drunkenly swaying even when stationary, a broken half of an empty rum bottle held tight in his grip, and there on the floor completely face down and unconscious was Jack Sparrow himself.
Wow…who'd have thought Mister Brown would end up being useful after all?
Peggy raised her eyebrows as Norrington gently prodded the fallen pirate with his boot.
"Excellent work Mister Brown. You've assisted in the capture of a dangerous fugitive."
"Just doin' my civic duty sir." Mister Brown slurred and Peggy could not blame Norrington for wincing and drawing away as the man's horrible alcohol-scented breath hit him full in the face. However, ever the professional he did not comment and instead took a step back to smile politely at Peggy with a respectful nod.
"And my thanks to you Miss Blake for keeping me and my men so promptly informed."
"Just doing my civic duty sir." Peggy echoed her landlord, before quickly coughing "As was dear William. If it had not been for his courage in keeping Captain Sparrow occupied I might not have been able to fetch you or your men."
"Indeed. Well done Mister Turner." Norrington nodded briskly to Will who for some reason was still staring down at Jack with confusion in his eyes even as the commodore followed his gaze with a small smug smirk.
"Well, I trust you will always remember that this is the day that Jack Sparrow almost escaped. Take him away."
Notes:
And that's chapter 2. Hope you enjoyed getting to know Peggy, you'll learn more about her in the chapters to come.
I had a lot of fun going down the rabbit hole and researching a little bit of colonial 1700s life, especially the food. I had no idea what a Johnny Cake (aka Hoecake or Journey Cake) was but now I want to try making them because they sound freaking delicious.
Anyway, hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Please post a review if you enjoyed it, and fave/follow if you'd like to continue reading.
Thanks
FuzzyBeta
Chapter 3: A Ship with Black Sails
Summary:
"The Black Pearl? I've heard stories. She's been preying on ships and settlements for near ten years. Never leaves any survivors."
"No survivors? Then where do the stories come from, I wonder?"
Notes:
*Trigger warning for violence/fighting and some spooky moments.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
"Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me. We pillage, we plunder, we rifle, and loot, Drink up me hearties, yo ho. We kidnap and ravage and don't give a hoot. Drink up me hearties, yo ho! Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me." A twelve-year-old boy stopped singing and whistled the rest of the tune.
Above him the Caribbean sun beat down on the top of his brown head of hair, glinting off the buttons of his new vest. The beach was surprisingly empty today, save for the occasional seabird squawking above his head and the officers running through their patrols nearby.
Still whistling he bent down to pick up a seashell from the golden sand and pocketed it for later. He knew it was silly to collect shells at his age, but his friend liked collecting them and he missed her. Usually, on days like today, she would have been right by his side, barefoot in her dress, fishing for shells in the shallows or the sand.
That was until a month ago when her father had informed her it was time to engage in much more advanced lessons befitting of a young lady. This meant, less time playing by the beach and more time with a strict governess who kept a beady eye on her at nearly all hours of the day.
The boy on the beach pouted.
He had been in Port Royal for nearly four whole months after being found in that horrible shipwreck. four months in which he and his friend had been playing and spending nearly every moment of freedom side by side. And now, poof it was gone. Now he could only see his friend on Sunday for an hour after Church if he behaved well in the week. All because of a mean old woman who frowned upon her pupil spending so much time with a boy below her station.
What was it the old bat had said? Oh yes, that with his breeding he was bound to be a "bad influence".
Well, the joke was going to be on her, because the boy was going to show her he could be just as good as any gentleman out there. If he could prove himself, maybe he could be with his friend again.
The boy almost jumped out of his skin when his bare foot bumped into something on the ground. Instinctively he drew his limb back for fear of broken glass or a sharp rock or shell, only to cry out in alarm at the sight that met him.
It was a girl younger and smaller than him. Her skin was waterlogged and pale making the freckles on it stand out starkly against her already pale complexion, and her coppery red hair was damp, tangled and stringy. All she wore was an oversized white undershirt and an improvised skirt made from a large damp, raggedy red shawl that swallowed her legs. She had a nasty bruise on the side of her head and her lips were tinged lightly blue.
"Uh…hello? A-are you awake?" the boy gulped nervously as he prodded the girl with his toe. Though her body was cold, it was not cold enough to be dead.
Carefully, the boy knelt beside the strange girl, leaning his head against her chest.
Thump-Thump! Thump-Thump!
She's alive. He sighed in relief, and from the way his head kept bobbing shallowly up and down on her chest she seemed to be breathing.
He pulled away and turned her face towards his, slapping gently at her cheeks as he cried out.
"Come on! come on! Wake up! Please wake up!"
Another small tap and he was rewarded with a tiny groan.
"That's it. You got it. Just open your eyes."
Another small groan and a pair of light blue-grey eyes opened.
Peggy Blake sighed as she trudged through the town square back towards Mister Brown's Smithy, running her hand through her loose coppery locks as she carried a basket of fresh loaves she had just bought from the bakers. Gods she needed to get a new bonnet and fast if only to stop her damned mop from getting so tangled by the wind.
Night had just fallen on Port Royal, and after all the drama of catching the infamous Jack Sparrow, she had been given leave by Commodore Norrington to take the rest of the day off to in his words "calm her nerves".
It was a surprisingly kind gesture from a man who usually ignored her or her fellow washerwoman's presence at the Fort Charles Washhouse. Then again, perhaps Elizabeth had put in a good word for her back at the docks. After all, she had offered Peggy a ride home in her carriage in front of everyone, including the Commodore.
Peggy had refused her old friend's kind gesture, much to the not-so-hidden belief of Governor Swann. Generous and kindly man though he was, the older nobleman was not comfortable with breaking societal conventions.
However, Elizabeth was not quite so rigid in her values, especially regarding her childhood friends. Oh, she'd stand by social conventions in public, but if given the chance Port Royal's beautiful English Rose was only too keen to bend the rules.
Peggy smirked to herself as she remembered the day she had met Elizabeth.
It had been a month since she had arrived in Port Royal, on that beach with naught but a name and the clothes on her back. Will had taken her in, rather forcibly she thought, as he had never really asked Mister Brown for his permission to let her stay. She had spent the first week or so on bed rest until she had fully recovered from her ordeal. That storm that had blown her into Port Royal had been violent and rough even for her. Then if that was not bad enough, she had no idea what to do with herself once she was given a clean bill of health.
She could not go back to the ocean, nor did she want to. Perhaps here on solid land, she could get away from that damned devil. After all, he could not step on land so he could not follow her here. But if she was going to stay on land, what was she going to do with herself? She was an orphan with no prospects.
So, she had settled for despondently following Will around like a lost duckling, listening to him prattle on and on about his best friend Elizabeth Swann, and how nice and perfect she was. Peggy would not deny she was annoyed at first and had fully prepared herself to come face to face with an annoying, pampered brat. However, when Will took her to meet with Elizabeth just after morning church on the next Sunday she had been pleasantly surprised.
Elizabeth was perhaps a little haughty, prim and proper, but she was not unkind. Indeed, once she and Peggy had broken the ice, the two of them got along exceptionally well. Though Peggy was rather more outspoken and snarkier than other girls her age should have been, Elizabeth had a calmer and cooler countenance that balanced her off quite nicely. They had particularly enjoyed ganging up together and affectionately teasing Will, much to his annoyance, and in their later adolescence enjoyed taking walks alone together around the Governor's estate during Peggy's breaks when she got employed at the Governor's washhouse.
But alas, time pressed on. Peggy got a better-paying job with better hours at the Fort Charles washhouse, and Elizabeth…well Elizabeth belonged to a different world altogether. Yet despite all that distance, Peggy still felt warm affection for her friend. Perhaps not quite the same level of fondness Will possessed, but still…
Peggy chewed her lip as she stepped out of the way of an oncoming grocer's cart, her mind filled with images of her female friend lying half-drowned on the pier, a gold skull medallion around her neck.
Just how had Elizabeth found that token? Was it flotsam or jetsam from the beach? Somehow Peggy doubted Governor Swann would ever buy such an item for his daughter even if she begged.
Peggy shivered as a strong gust of wind blew hard at her back, and she turned to face the source of it.
Behind her the sky was darkening, the bloody red of the sunset disappearing beneath the horizon to be replaced by an inky black as an uncommonly thick fog. Mist and fog were not an uncommon occurrence on the island, but Peggy had never seen it this dense before.
It was making it almost hard for her to see the door to her home, and it was only thanks to the familiar outline of Will opening the downstairs door to the forge that she was able to make out where home was.
"Peggy? Is that you?" He called as she came close.
"It's me. I got the bread" She nodded, her shivers growing in intensity as yet another gust of wind blew hard at her back, almost knocking her into her friend. It was hard for him to see her as well in this mess. "Is the stew almost done?" She asked as they ascended the stairs and entered the front of their shared home.
"I don't know." Will scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "I was just about to check. I would have done so before, but I lost track of time," he added as if expecting to be scolded.
Peggy turned her head to tease him, only for her smirk to fall as she saw her friend's furrowed brow and slightly glazy eyes. He'd been disturbed ever since Jack had been arrested that morning, even as he had done his best to engage himself with work.
He was so distracted that even when they went upstairs to eat their dinner he merely played with his food much to Peggy's worry. Will usually could out-eat a horse after a long hard day's work and with that extra sword fight he had participated in today she would have thought he would be starving. The fact that Mister Brown was also out eating and drinking at the local pub to celebrate his great "victory" today also meant they would have enough for second helpings as well as leftovers.
She also would have thought he'd be proud. Will was not a boastful person, but he occasionally liked to preen at his achievements quietly. And holding his own in a duel against a pirate like Jack Sparrow was no mean feat.
"Will?" Peggy peered at his troubled face.
"It's…it's nothing. I'm fine." Will muttered, his eyes fixed on the wood of the dining table.
Nonetheless, Peggy still reached out to carefully press her knuckles against his forehead just in case. His body was not overheated in any way, and he did not appear to look sickly.
"Don't worry." Will managed a small smirk, though it seemed somewhat forced "I don't think I picked anything up from that filthy pirate."
"Hmm, he was quite grubby." Peggy agreed as she quickly moved her hand to gently ruffle his dark brown locks. "As were you when he got captured."
Will's smirk fell into a dark scowl.
"That's because he cheated." He spat, still not looking her in the eye. "Threw the sawdust to blind me. Then he drew his gun on me."
"But he didn't kill you," Peggy murmured, more to herself than to Will who sighed.
"No. He didn't."
Of course, Jack would not kill unless necessary. He would lie, trick and manipulate, he may even put others in harm's way to save himself. He may kill to survive a fight, but he is not naturally a bloodthirsty man. That wasn't to say he wasn't dangerous if backed into a corner, but Peggy knew if Jack wanted Will dead he would not have wasted so much time engaging Will in single combat.
As infuriating as his presence was in her life, it was oddly comforting to know that at least Jack had not changed in that way even after all these years.
"You don't seem so surprised."
Peggy glanced up from her musings. Will was watching her carefully, those usually warm and welcoming brown eyes of his oddly cold in their assessment. Did he know she knew Jack? Or could he guess she knew more than she was letting on? Either way, she felt her gut broil uncomfortably as she coughed.
"When he got apprehended at the docks he said he only had one shot left in that pistol. I doubt he'd want to let that go to waste on a blacksmith when he could point it at someone like the Commodore or the Governor."
"I guess." Will nodded in agreement. "He did say that the shot was not meant for me."
It most certainly is not. Peggy had to bite her tongue to stop the comment from flying past her lips. But if she thought her problems were over she was sorely mistaken.
"You seemed very calm when you walked in on us fighting." Will probed his gaze now fixed on her face even as she did her best to school it into a blank mask.
"Was I?"
"You facepalmed and walked out the door as if we both were grating on your last nerves."
"And so you both were." Peggy folded her arms with a mulish frown of her own. "You just engaged in combat with a dangerous criminal after promising me you'd be careful, and that said criminal had just held my other friend hostage and broke into my home both in one day. I think I'm allowed to be a bit angry at my sore luck."
"Perhaps, but that still does not explain why that Sparrow spoke to you the way he did. Like you were old friends." Will persisted doggedly.
"He's a pirate. He probably thought I would be flattered by his attentions like any other wench he pays for a good time." Peggy shrugged, shuddering with revulsion at the very thought as she stood to her feet and took his bowl.
Will watched her closely as she made her way to the small sink and began to scrub their bowls clean, her movements stiff and awkward.
She had been rigid ever since that Jack Sparrow had attacked her and Elizabeth at the docks.
Normally Will would have understood her jumpy state. It would not have been unnatural for any young woman to feel shaken by being up close and personal with a pirate. In many ways, Peggy was certainly rattled by the situation but not in the way Will had expected.
She did not look like a person who feared a deadly unknown threat. No. She had the haunted look of someone who had just seen a ghost that had returned from beyond the grave.
"Peg." He tried again in tones far gentler than before as he stood up to pull her away from the sink by the shoulders, doing his best to look her in the eye even as she avoided his. "Is this Jack Sparrow…is he the reason you got stranded at Port Royal ten years ago? Was he the one who hurt you?"
Gods he was so close to figuring it out. It almost ached to think about it. For the umpteenth time that day, Peggy wondered if she should just come clean to her friend. Surely he would understand…or would he?
Even now as the desire just to spill the beans on everything welled up within her gut so did her terror. She loved Will and had practically grown up with him side by side like a brother. They had looked out for one another and protected each other as if they were bonded by blood. What if she told him the truth and he despised her for it? She could lose him forever. She had already lost so much; she was not sure whether she was ready to lose the only family she had left. But he also deserved to hear the truth from her before anyone else like Jack could tell him and twist it around like a knife.
Peggy bit her lip, the lump in her throat thickening as she felt her eyes burn. By the Sea Gods, she hated it when she cried, but today had been too much of an emotional hurricane even for her. She could only count herself lucky that Will assumed the sight of her watery eyes was an affirmation of his statement and quickly pulled her into his chest in a tight embrace.
"I'm sorry." He murmured, chin resting at the top of her head as he smoothed a rough hand over her wild mane of copper curls. "I know you don't like speaking of your life from before. You don't even have to say anything if you don't want to. I just…I-"
"I know." Peggy mumbled hoarsely as she returned the embrace tight "I'll tell you all about it…one day…I just…I don't know how to…" she trailed off, burying her face into the crook of his neck. The smell of sweat, coal and musk was a comforting distraction against the storm raging within.
"Whenever you're ready. I'll listen." Will rubbed a soothing hand on her back, shutting his eyes and squeezing her tighter to him as a small sob escaped her.
There was silence on the harbour of Port Royal.
Not a soul stirred, nor a bird squawked in the night air. The fog that had blown in at sunset was now thicker than ever before, floating low to the ground and limiting visibility to only a few feet before the eyes.
Only the water was disturbed as an immense ship drifted across its inky surface, half hidden by the fog and the dark of night.
It was a beautiful ship. Her hull was as black as the moonless night with equally dark tattered sails and jib rigged upon three tall masts. Upon her bow was the black-painted wooden figurehead of a beautiful, winged woman with a seahawk taking flight off her arm that pointed towards her destination.
And yet for all the ship's beauty and majestic grace, all who saw her trembled with panic.
Those who did not, well, they would learn to fear her name soon enough.
Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!
I'm such a coward.
Peggy sighed as she curled her feet up beneath her. She was in the forge, sitting in Mister Brown's usual chair and reading while Will hammered away at a sword at his anvil. It was, in fact, the very sword he had thrown at the door during his earlier duel with Jack Sparrow. It had gotten bent out of shape when he and an officer had tried to pull it out of the wood and now he was doing his best to fix it before it got further damaged.
Many would have thought the constant clanging and hammering away would have been annoying, but to Peggy, it was immensely comforting, a welcome return to normalcy after all the drama of the day.
And what a day it was, she mused as she quickly flicked through the many pages before her.
It was an old tome, bound in blue dyed leather that had greyed with age.
She had found it lost and abandoned at the Port Royal Harbour years ago, no doubt fallen out of a sailor or an officer's satchel. Peggy had never known who it had belonged to for it had no name inside the cover, save that of the author. Peggy assumed he could not be that famous an author since not anyone she knew had even heard of the book and she had yet to find any other copies of it or indeed any other work he might have published.
On its front written in faded gold letters "Tales of the Deep: A Compendium of Sea Myths, Legends, and Lore Through the Ages. By Percival Stafford". From famous heroes like Odysseus and Jason to rotten scoundrels like Davy Jones and Sir Frances Drake. From pirates to mermaids, to curses and old heathen gods. Peggy had no idea where the man had gotten all his information from, but he had done his research she would give him that.
"There you are." She whispered as she finally found what she was looking for. A chapter titled "The Cursed Treasure of Cortés" and there, above the words a printed sketch of a familiar skull on an ornate geometric patterned coin.
Peggy bit her lip as she looked at the illustration. Some of the details in the pattern behind the skull were wrongly shaped, but the overall design was just like the one she had seen on Elizabeth's person that morning.
Perhaps what she had seen had been a replica? Many sailors and merchants who sailed into Port Royal tried to create fake magical totems and sell them to ignorant customers who lived in the town. Elizabeth might have bought one during one of her many outings with her lady's maids or Commodore Norrington in his attempts to court her.
But no…if it was a replica, then how on earth had Jack recognised the medallion?
The creaking of wood roused her from her grim thoughts and Peggy looked up in time to see Will poking his head out the window and into the alleyway.
"Everything alright?" She called.
"Just a cat…I think…" Will trailed off uncertainly, his head still outside.
Frowning, Peggy shut her book and walked over to join him at the window.
All was still and quiet. On their side of the path crates and broken barrels were stacked against the walls of the buildings and a tabby cat darted down the dirty ground. Far off on the side opposite them, the shadow of the usual homeless vagrant that called the alleyway home was asleep and snoring on his favourite stoop. Peggy almost did not see him at first. Then again she could not see much given how thick the fog had gotten.
Gods it was even thicker than it had been when she'd come home and that was saying a lot.
Then she felt it, a strange throbbing feeling through the floor.
She froze, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end and her heart hammering in her chest.
She had felt that pulsing before.
No sooner had she registered the sensation, another gust of wind blew in both their faces, so powerful that when it streamed into the forge it blew out some of the candles and nearly blew out the forge's fire itself.
With a soft curse, Will scrambled back into his workspace to inspect for any damage.
Peggy, meanwhile, stayed at the window and looked up at the night sky. What had once been a clear night full of stars was now overcast and full of ominous dark clouds that shrouded the moon.
"What on earth?" she muttered, shivering once more as a strong gust of wind hit her full in the face.
Weather could be unpredictable in Port Royal it was true, but never had it invoked such an eerie chill throughout her body. It was as if someone had just walked right over her grave.
BOOM!
Though it was distant, the sound of it almost made Peggy jump out of her skin.
Then another BOOM, and another. And another.
Peggy's eyes widened as she saw flashes of yellow and red illuminate the rooftops of nearby homes accompanied by black plumes of smoke.
Then came the clanging of the bells…and the screams.
At the sound of them, Will stopped in his tracks, all the colour draining from his face as he and Peggy both looked at one another in horror.
"Shut the window." He barked and Peggy wasted no time arguing, barely shutting the window in time for loud shouts to ring through the air outside in the alleyway.
Snatching a sword from the nearby rack he thrust it into Peggy's hand before taking one for himself as well as a small hand axe that he holstered onto his belt.
"Quick, this way." He dragged Peggy to the back door, only to draw back as they heard loud shouting just outside it, accompanied by vicious laughter and the sharp cracking sound of a gun being fired.
"Front door!" Peggy called out rushing for said exit before Will could stop her.
They both ran outside and were met with a scene of abject chaos.
Men, women and children were running about in terror and panic, screaming or hollering for help or loved ones. Houses were burning and carts were broken and smashed all over the street. Amidst all the anarchy, many men all grubby and garbed in strange, tattered clothes ran about brandishing swords and guns, their faces alive with gleeful malice as they chased down people to hew down with their weapons and tore through their homes, pillaging and plundering as they went.
"Pirates" Peggy breathed in shock as she watched one of the attackers chase down a poor woman in only her shift and bonnet.
On instinct Will threw his small axe at the pursuer before he could pounce, the weapon hitting him square in the back and allowing his would-be prey to escape into a nearby building.
As the man crumpled to the ground, it attracted the attention of one of his fellow crewmen who turned to snarl at Will and Peggy with vicious delight.
Before Peggy could object Will shoved her behind his back, shielding her from the view of the pirate as he rushed headlong in their direction.
There was a clash of metal as both Will's and the pirate's swords met, but Peggy did not have time to appreciate the save as she saw another pirate rush at her from the side with his sword waving in the air.
She was swift to catch the oncoming blow with her weapon. She took the pirate by such surprise that she was able to aim a vicious swipe at his jugular, and though the man did manage to leap back and avoid being decapitated it was still enough for her sharp edge to slice the front of his oesophagus.
The man spluttered and grasped at his throat to stem the waterfall of crimson that bled down his front, his distraction allowing Peggy to push him backwards into a nearby water trough.
Peggy had no time to celebrate her victory or throw up at the viscera as she felt a hand grab at her arm. With a shriek she swung her sword around, only to stop it just in time from cutting off Will's ear.
"This way! Come on!" he grabbed her hand and began rushing down the street and towards the town square. If they could just make it across and past the stables on the edge of town they might just be able to make it safely to Fort Charles.
However, as with everything today, fate was not on either Will's or Peggy's side.
They had barely made it past the well in the middle of the town square when suddenly the rickety wooden scaffolding of a nearby building under construction burst into flame so violently that the ground shook and they fell to the ground hard.
"Will!" Peggy cried out as she felt their hands detach.
"Look out Peg!" Will's voice shouted.
Peg looked up and gaped as the scaffolding above her began to sway ominously in her direction.
"MAMA!"
Even through all the cacophony of destruction around her, the child's screams pierced through Peggy's ears like a dagger. She was quick to find the source, a toddler screeching and wailing as he padded around in shock and distress a few feet away from her, his round face drenched with tears and sweat, completely unaware of the structure about to flatten them both.
With a speed she had never known she possessed Peggy scrambled to her feet and lunged towards the little urchin, sweeping him up in her arms tight just as the wood began to fall behind them.
"Go-go-go! Get to the fort now!" Will shouted at Peggy, pushing her and her new charge towards a group of civilians who were also fleeing in the direction of their haven.
"Will-Will come with us!" Peggy called, but too late, her friend was swept into a bout with another pirate.
"Come on dear this way! Quick!" a woman shouted in her ears as a pair of hands urged her onwards.
Peggy wanted to go back but steeled herself as she felt the little boy begin to sob into her body.
No…no matter what happened to Will she could not forgive herself if she let a child get hurt either.
Chest stinging she turned her back on the town square, holding the little head of fair curls close to her bosom as she quietly whispered:
"It's okay love, it's okay. We're going to be safe. I won't let anything happen to you!"
The child just sobbed harder into her chest, wailing in fright as a loud gunshot cracked above their heads.
Peggy ducked quickly jaw dropping as one of the women in front of her suddenly dropped to the ground, smoke rising from a black burning spot on her back.
At once the group screamed and scattered in every which way to escape the oncoming pistol shots. Peggy herself was quick to duck her head and start weaving side to side in a zig-zag, the child still held tight in her arms.
There was another loud crack and Peggy cried out as something hot slid past her left arm, burning through her sleeve and grazing her arm. She could feel something warm oozing down her skin but she did not stop running.
She could see the fort's Outer Gates right in front of her, two red-coated officers on the other side, and they could see her. If she could just get inside she would be safe.
"Quick Miss! Quick!" one of them yelled as he pushed open the gates to usher her inside, while his fellow officer raised his musket to fire at her pursuers. However, he was not fast enough.
BANG! BANG!
"No-no!" Peggy yelled but it was no use, both men were on the ground dead as a doornail the gate to the Fort swinging wide open.
Heart now pounding in her chest Peggy forced her now burning legs to keep running, the child in her arms feeling heavier and heavier by the minute.
Gotta find somewhere to find. The officers will catch them soon enough if I lead them closer.
"It's alright love, it's alright!" she puffed into the boy's ear as she sped deeper and deeper into the fort. "everything's going to be alright!"
Will watched in horror as he saw Peggy's group suddenly split apart, a couple of them falling to their deaths as guns fired off at their backs.
But Peggy was still running and weaving side to side to give their hunters a harder target, the little boy held tight in her arms even as a bullet came hurtling her way from a rifle.
"NO!" he yelled, rushing forward to come to her aid, only to lurch backward as a pirate leapt before him, teeth bared.
Fuelled by pure adrenaline Will did not care for technique as he hewed the man down before him, leaping over his body and doing his best to see where his friend was.
He spotted her at a distance, her red hair an easy mark as it flickered in the lights of the lit torches she passed. She was still fleeing fast, her feet carrying her swiftly towards the Fort.
Despite his panic, he was surprised and a little impressed that she could run with the added weight. Then again she had spent years hauling heavy loads of heavy laundry up and down from the Fort so perhaps he shouldn't have been so surprised. She even sometimes had to lift his weight around if ever he was feeling sickly, and she somehow managed that on her own.
She's nearly at the fort. She'll be safe there. He assured himself though even he was not sure he could believe his own words. Fort Charles was also under immensely heavy cannon fire, so much so it was very hard for the military to spare some men to aid in the chaos of the town.
Will had to give the filthy pirates some credit. It was a good strategy, dirty and unfair it was true but effective. Much like their way of fighting. Most of the men he faced barely had any technique, most of them relying on brute strength or trickery to kill or maim their victims. They were nothing like Jack Sparrow, who for all his cheating, at least had the finesse that came with hours, upon hours of swordsmanship practice. These men, no, these animals, were just all over the place.
Will cursed loudly as another pirate, this time a very strong man with a mane of dark greasy hair, lunged at him from beside the window of a looked shopfront. In his hands were a grappling pike and a small hatchet, both sharp and gnarly looking things, possibly more suited to prolonged torture than for a swift death.
Will dodged side to side to avoid the hatchet, only to get hooked around the neck by the grapple and drawn into stabbing range.
"Say goodbye!" his attacker growled as he leaned Will's head back to expose the veins on his neck to the blade of his hatchet.
Will winced as a cannonball smashed into an upstairs window above him and his would-be killer, igniting something explosive in the room beyond. The explosion was so powerful that it untethered a sign from the roof, which swung down hard like a pendulum at the two men.
Will fortunately had noticed the damn thing as his neck was craned back and so was able to leap out of the way just in time to avoid the impact.
His attacker, however, was not so lucky, and with a resounding thud and a crash, he smashed through the front of the ruined shop like a tennis ball being hit by a racket.
"Goodbye," Will grinned smugly, turning back to the warzone that had once been a peaceful neighbourhood.
He could no longer see a speck of Peggy on the path up to the fort, but he was sure she must have reached safely by now. If he was quick he could join her and make sure she and that boy were okay.
Will barely took more than three steps before he saw something that made his heart sink like a stone.
A group of pirates were walking across the crowded streets around someone in the middle. It was a woman, a woman with blonde curls, big brown eyes and pale skin.
"Elizabeth?" he breathed. Oh god. what was going on? How on Earth was she captured by the pirates? And why was no one trying to help her?
Shaking his head he tightened his grip on his sword.
No, he couldn't let these filthy scum take her, he had to do something!
He jerked forward raising his sword ready to rush at her captors from the side in a surprise attack, but before he had even taken a couple of steps he found himself face to face with a grubby short man with a long beard and a red hat.
Wait hang on?! Will thought wildly as he looked the man up and down. Grubby face, short, red hat. But hadn't he…hadn't he cut this man down earlier? How was he alive? Did he have a twin? Just what on earth was going on?!
"Well hello!" the disgusting little vermin grinned wickedly up at him, his dark eyes glancing down at Will's feet.
Will looked down and jumped back in alarm as he beheld a small gunpowder bomb with a brightly lit and burning fuse.
But his scare was short-lived for the tiny explosive was quick to fizzle out of fire well before its wick was ended.
Will looked up at the grubby pirate, readjusting his grip on his sword as the man nervously began to back away from him.
"OY! Outta my way scum!" a voice suddenly shouted from behind.
There was a blinding flash as something heavy collided with the back of Will's head.
Then all he saw was darkness.
Jack Sparrow's dark brown eyes narrowed as he gazed out through the bars of the high window of his cell, his eyes transfixed on the speck of black that sat on the dark waters of the harbour below Fort Charles.
He could not believe it; he had found her. His beloved Black Pearl. After all these years of searching, she just sailed into the very port he was in. And yet, here he was stuck behind the bars of his cell unable to reach her.
To add sea salt to the wound, his beloved ship had managed to blow apart the hole in the cell beside him, allowing his other fellow prisoners the chance to escape, all while leaving him stuck in the lurch.
If there was a god of Fate it must be a woman, Jack thought bitterly to himself, for only a goddess would be able to cook up a punishment this cruel for a man like him to endure.
But he would endure, and he would get out one way or another.
Clambering down from his perch, he made his way to the bars at the front of his cell, reaching through towards a bone discarded on the cold stone floor.
Just his luck those buffoons had left this for him in their excitement.
"Hey! Hey dog come 'ere!" He paused to whistle, wagging the bone invitingly before the bars, his eyes fixed on a scraggly mutt sitting anxiously under a nearby bench, a ring of keys held tight in his jowls. "Come here doggy! Come on! It's just you and me now. It's just you and ol' Jack." He smiled invitingly as he continued to shake the bone at the canine.
The dog looked at him for a moment, then uncertainly, crawled on his belly from his spot, keys still in his mouth.
"Come on. That's a boy. Come on. Good boy." Jack called his grin growing wider as the mutt cautiously raised himself onto all four paws and sniffed the air hopefully. "Come get your bone. That's a good boy. Come on, a bit closer, a bit closer." A few slow padded footsteps more. Gods, this animal was taking forever "That's it doggy. Come on, you filthy, slimy, mangy cur!"
BANG! CRASH!
The dog whimpered and promptly began to trot away down the length of the cells and a nearby set of stairs.
"Don't do that! No-no-no I didn't mean it!" Jack yelled after the animal as its tail disappeared down and out of sight.
Bloody mutt. Jack cursed, only to wince as yet another loud BANG rent the air, followed by a small feminine scream and the rushing of footsteps.
"What the?" his kohl-lined eyes darted to another stairwell nearby from which a woman in a brown dress descended, her coppery red hair flying about her sweaty tear-stained face. In her arms, one of which was scratched and bleeding, a child no more than a few years old was sniffling as he clung to her tight for safety. The upset tyke wailed loudly as two heavy figures fell down the steps after him and his caretaker.
It was two red-coated officers, both pale and both very, very dead.
"Peggy?!" Jack called and Peggy Blake wheeled around to face him. For the first time since they'd reunited, she was not looking at him with wrath, though her fearful expression did little to soothe Jack's frayed nerves.
The source of her anxiety became apparent when another two pairs of footsteps sounded at the top of the stairs.
"Where is she? Where is that brat?" a man's voice snarled
"Who cares, we got inside and that's what counts." Another man's much deeper more heavily accented voice sneered. "Come on let's see what we can loot. Those flashy soldiers must 'ave an armoury down 'ere."
"Quick lass, my sword!" Jack nodded to his effects that hung on a nearby hook on the wall just above the bench the ruddy mongrel had been sitting before.
Trembling but silent, Peggy fetched the weapon from its sheath, quickly putting the small child on the ground behind her.
"Stay close love." She whispered to the frightened child, who nodded and clung tight to the back of her skirts as the footsteps grew louder and louder and a pair of men stumbled down the stairs over the dead bodies.
"Damn, this ain't the armoury!"
Peggy and Jack stared at the pair of men that had just entered the prison.
One was dark-skinned with dreadlocks and wearing a long coat, and the other was fair-skinned with a scruffy beard and bandanna wrapped around his head.
Peggy froze in shock as she finally got a good look at their faces in the torchlight, shock taking over as the two pirates caught sight of her first and leered.
"Twigg? Koehler?"
The men paused and tilted their heads in confusion. They had not expected her to recognise them so readily.
"I see our reputation precedes us." The bearded man with the bandanna, Twigg, leered at Peggy, licking his lips as he readjusted his grip on his sword.
"Indeed it does." Koehler frowned as his dark gaze roved over Peggy's coppery curls. Then he started to chuckle, a heavy deep sound that rattled her right down to her core as he took a step towards her. "Or perhaps she just has very fond memories of us. Don't ya, little witch?"
"Whatcha talkin' about mate? How do you know she's a witch?" Twigg quirked a brow at his friend in confusion.
"Look at her Twigg!" Koehler snapped rolling his eyes. "Look and tell me you don' recognise them curls?"
Twigg frowned as he squinted at Peggy's face in the dim light. Upon catching sight of said curls his eyes widened, almost comically.
"No, but that can't be possible. We tied 'er up and tossed 'er over the side an' everythin'! She ought to be dead!"
"Am I? Well, that's strange. I'm pretty sure I was scheduled to hang next week." Peggy snorted as she raised the point of her sword at the two pirate's faces, but Jack could see she was only trying to sound brave for the poor little lad huddled behind her. "Funny how you thought ropes and water would be enough to kill a witch, huh lads? I guess that's the kind of quality you expect from a crew of a subpar captain"
"Why you little-" Koehler's lip curled as he took a step towards the young woman, but Twigg was quick to grab him and pull him back.
"Are yer mad?" he hissed under his breath. "It's bad enough she cursed us once without temptin' fate again!"
"Oh is that what you've been up to all these years love?" Jack called out from his cell as he clumsily rose to his feet. "Studying witchcraft. What about all that fencing I taught you, ey? Don't tell me that has gone to waste."
Peggy did not answer, she just held her sword tighter in her hands as the two men's eyes snapped towards Jack.
"Well, well, well. Look what we have here Twigg." Koehler sneered with twisted delight. "Captain Jack Sparrow." He spat on the ground at Jack's feet.
"Hehehe last time I saw you, you were all alone on that godforsaken island. Shrinking into the distance." Twigg chuckled. "His fortunes haven't improved much."
"Worry about your own fortunes, gentlemen." Jack sneered. "The deepest circle of hell is reserved for betrayers and mutineers, especially those who mess with witches." He added delighting in the way Twigg's nervous gaze flickered between his small smirk and Peggy's snarling face for a moment.
Koehler however, was not so frightened. With a shocking speed, his arm slid through the bars of Jack's cell, grabbing his old crewmate in a vice.
The little boy who had been peering out at the exchange behind Peggy's skirts, squealed and shrank back as the beam of moonlight streaming through the window of Jack's cell illuminated the man's arm as it transformed under its glow.
Peggy could not blame the child for being so scared. The sight that met her eyes almost made her want to throw up herself.
She had seen many gruesome things over the years, but nothing held a candle to the rotted hand clenched around Jack's neck. It looked like the hand of a corpse that had been left to decay at the bottom of the ocean for years. Only the bones remained along with some of the tendons stretching and twitching along the fingers. The sleeve of the pirate's blue coat was also transformed as well. The cuff of what had once been a worn but relatively wearable garment was now all mouldy and in filthy tatters.
She was not quite sure how Jack managed to maintain his calm in the face of such horrific images before his eyes. Then again, he was Jack Sparrow, who knew what the man's limit was?
"So there is a curse…that's interesting." He murmured carefully.
"You know nothing of hell," Koehler growled as he slowly uncurled his fingers from Jack's throat, each one slowly reforming the skin and muscles even as he slid it out of the range of the moonlight.
"That's very interesting," Jack murmured again as he watched the alteration with intrigue.
"Come on," Koehler grunted at Twigg, turning one last contemptuous sneer at Peggy.
"We'll be back for you soon Witch! I'm sure Captain Barbossa will be very interested in seeing you again.."
"I'm sure he would if he doesn't mind getting himself and you lot all cursed yet again." Peggy shot back. "What is that they say? Third time's the charm, hmm?"
Now that did make Jack chuckle as Twigg took a step back from Peggy, his face a mask of fear.
Some pirates could be utterly fearless in the face of guns and cannon fire, but heaven forbid a woman with even a vaguely forbidding countenance make a threat of magic and misfortune and a whole lot of them would crumple and wither.
Even Koehler, one of the smarter, less foolish pirates was not immune to the power of such superstitions, for though he wanted to end the back-chatting woman, he made no move to attack her. Instead, he shot a venomous glower as he stalked back up the stairs with Twigg, who was only too eager to escape her presence.
There was the slamming of a door, then silence.
"I think they're gone now, sweetheart." Peggy sighed as she dropped down to her knees to inspect the infant boy who had begun whimpering once more. He had been silent in terror while the two pirates had been present, but now the threat was gone so too did his tears return in full force as he flung himself at Peggy once more.
Jack watched in silence as Peggy comforted the little tyke, scooping him back up into her arms before taking a seat on the nearby bench.
Whatever courage she had gathered seemed to drain out of her as she held the child close to her, bouncing him soothingly in her arms as she murmured soft words of comfort into his blonde head.
Now that Jack thought about it, this was the second time he had found her wrapped up with the wellbeing of another young lad. She had developed a disgusting taste for whelps.
Ugh! All those months of hard work all gone to waste.
"Impressive work I must say," he said, keeping his tone light and casual so as not to frighten the runt in her arms.
"What?" she clipped, her eyes snapping coldly upon his face.
"That thing with the bones on 'is hand." Jack shrugged, holding up the bone he had tried to use to lure the key dog. "That was your work, wasn't it? What with you cursing them and all."
"I didn't curse anyone! Besides I don't have magic, you know that!" Peggy rolled her eyes, her hand absentmindedly rubbing soothing circles into the relaxing bub's back. "I just shouted at them for a bit before they gave me the heave-ho! Honestly, I don't even remember what I said it was so long ago…" Her voice trailed away as her eyes grew misty with recollection. She was quick to shake it off when she heard Jack snort under his breath.
"Well, you must have done something magical to survive the plunge. I mean I saw you get bound and gagged meself before the great heave-ho."
"Yes, you did see that didn't you?" Peggy spat, and Jack was alarmed to see tears welling in her grey eyes. "You saw it and did nothing."
"Yes, well you weren't the only one with your hands tied at the time, if you recall." Jack pointed the bone at her, and she scowled.
"Maybe we wouldn't have been tied up if you'd just listened to me in the first place! I warned you about the mutiny! I warned you about Hector's plans!"
"I know you did," Jack muttered, unable to meet her eyes as the tears spilled fresh on her cheeks.
"Then why didn't you listen to me?! I thought you said you trusted me?! Or was that just one of your many bloody lies like everything else?"
"Look Pegsy-"
"Don't call me that Sparrow!" Peggy snapped and though she kept her voice soft, the bite in it was so fierce Jack blinked in surprise. "You of all people, don't get to call me that after everything that's happened!"
"And why not Pegsy?" Jack sneered and was not disappointed when her nostrils flared at him like an angry bull.
"Because…Because…" She sucked in a deep breath to prevent herself from exploding. "Look, I'm not talking about this with you. Not now." She looked down at the now tired boy in her arms as he shifted to curl closer against her shoulder.
"Alright love, alright." Jack raised both his hands in mocking surrender as Peggy turned her tear-stained face away from him. "But it's good to see you again. Civilised life does suit you sooo well."
"I thought I said we were done talking," Peggy growled and Jack grinned cheekily.
"Ah yes, we were done talking about the past. You never said anything about the present. So about this little setup you've made for yourself here, how's that going? Please don't tell me you're courting that tall eunuch. He surely can't be that satisfying without any of the goods."
"I don't know, he's a blacksmith so he's pretty good with his hands." Peggy sneered with pleasure as Jack gagged with revulsion.
"Ugh! That's disgusting lass."
"Why? You're the one who started this topic."
"Yes, but I'm a man." Jack looked at her affronted.
"You're a bloody hypocrite!" Peggy shot back. "I'm a woman now Jack. With a job, responsibilities, and my own life. I'm not that same little girl who used to fetch you rum in the morning."
"You certainly are not." Jack agreed, his offence melting to sombreness as he looked her up and down. It was oddly sobering to see little Peggy acting all grown up and serious. Well, more seriously than before. She had always been a bit grim even as a younger lass.
"No…we're not courting." She finally answered after a pause. "We spent the last ten years under the same roof, so we're just friends."
"I see." Jack eyed her curiously. "Foolish really. For him." He added at her questioning glance "You could do a lot better."
"Thanks, but if I wanted courting advice I'd ask a fish wife and not you," she muttered, and Jack snorted, eyes drifting to the blonde head of the child in her lap. The little lad's eyes had drifted shut during their conversation, though his hands were still curled tight into his guardian's dress.
"Speaking of whelps, how's that one holdin' up? He hasn't moved for a while.".
Peggy looked down and sighed.
"I think he's finally asleep."
"Lucky little bastard, got a nice pair of soft breasts to sleep on after an evening of excitement."
"Good god!" Peggy groaned softly in exasperation. "Now who's the one being disgusting?"
"Just making an observation love, and a compliment. Like you said, you're a woman now."
"And that gives you licence to lech at me?"
"Pirate," Jack smirked as if that simple word explained everything. And in a way it did.
After all what else could you call a man like Captain Jack Sparrow?
Jack opened his mouth to speak, but at that exact moment, several shouts blasted from the floor up above.
Both Peggy and Jack tensed at once as several pairs of footsteps thundered down the stairs once more, only this time accompanied by the familiar cry of:
"Guns at ready men! Those rats could be anywhere!"
"Well if it isn't our good friend Commodore what's-his-face. Come to save the day and win the heart of the fair maiden too." Jack snorted bitterly as he slumped back to sit on the floor of his cell, just as Peggy stood to her own feet, resettling the dozing child in her arms as she returned Jack's sword to its scabbard on the wall.
"For what it's worth Pegs, it is good to see you again," Jack murmured as she spared a glance at his cell. Her grey eyes were no longer streaming, but the tears had not left them even as she murmured.
"Goodbye Jack."
And with that she walked back up the stairs, child in arms, leaving Captain Jack Sparrow alone in the dark.
There was chaos aboard the Black Pearl as its crew scurried all over the deck and rigging, desperate to get out of the now-ruined harbour before those British dogs could run down to their little ships and chase them out.
Captain Hector Barbossa was particularly pleased with this latest business venture. Not only had his men managed to ravage the pathetic settlement of some valuable loot, but now they also had gotten him the final piece of their puzzle and the blood that could free them from their curse.
Oh, how many years they had searched and searched for Turner's brat and the last piece of Aztec gold? Too many to even think about.
But against all odds they had done it.
Now they were finally, finally going to be free.
And yet something bothersome needled at the back of Barbossa's mind.
Something bothersome by the name of little Peggy Blake.
That little runt! How is she alive after all this time? he grunted as he gripped the wheel of the Pearl so tight his knuckles turned white.
Of all the people his men had to bump into in this landing it had to be Jack Sparrow's little stooge. How she had survived their last encounter he did not know. He was certain he had given the order for his men to bind her up good and tight before tossing her overboard.
He was sure she was not a witch, despite what many in his crew believed. Barbossa had met witches before, and the girl was not one of their ilk. That still didn't mean she couldn't cause trouble.
Damn, those stupid superstitious fools below on the deck and damn that little red-haired demoness. Barely a few hours out of the grave and already she was up to mischief.
If she had settled down in this British Port she might be more than willing to spill everything she knew about the ship and the crew to all those pesky officers.
Of course, the Black Pearl could deal with the Royal Navy, though that didn't make the task less tedious or troublesome.
Who knows…Barbossa allowed himself a sneer of mirth. Perhaps once we're free of our curse we might return here again for another raid, and I'll pay dear little "Pegsy" a long overdue visit and remind her just what happens to those who cross me and me crew.
Oh, what a fun little reunion that would be.
Notes:
There we have it, Chapter 3 the attack of the Black Pearl.
Peggy's backstory with Jack is finally starting to unravel a little bit more and Lizzy has finally been kidnapped which means we can get onto the juicy stuff.
Anyway hope you enjoyed and if you did please fave and review.
Thanks
FuzzyBeta
Chapter 4: A Dauntless Interception
Summary:
"Everyone stay calm, we are taking over the ship!"
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
"Timmy! Oh Timmy thank goodness!"
Peggy Blake sighed with relief as a young woman, not much older than herself and round with child, rushed forward to take the now smiling, happily squealing toddler from Peggy's arms.
It was already an hour after dawn, a few hours after the pirates of the Black Pearl had left Port Royal. Peggy's head was still reeling from the shock of it all. After ten years in hiding, she never would have ever dreamed of seeing any of those men again.
She was surprised she did not recognise some of them as they attacked the town. Then again, the Pearl always did have such a large crew and it had been so long since she'd seen them.
Koehler and Twigg were not faces she'd forget in a hurry, not when they were the ones who had bound those ropes around her all those years ago.
Bastards…utter bastards the lot of them. She cursed inside her head, though the savage thoughts were quick to fade as little Timmy's mother quickly swept her into a tearful hug.
"Oh, thank you miss! Thank you! I had thought the worst I had. I don't know if I'll ever be able to repay you."
"Please no need to repay me. I could not leave him at the mercy of those pirates." Peggy blushed to the roots of her coppery curls as the young man behind the woman, whom she recognised as an apprentice carpenter from near the docks, stepped forward and wrapped an arm around his wife's shoulders as she pulled away from Peggy.
"Nonsense miss, ye saved our son's life. If ever, you or your family need anything, please let us know, we will only be too glad to help."
"Sir there's no need-"
"Thank you Benjamin that's very generous." A male voice suddenly spoke, and Peggy jolted as a rough hand closed around her shoulder.
"Will!" She sighed, clutching at her heart from the shock.
"Ah! William! I am glad to see you're alright." Mister Brandon's smile brightened as he reached out to grip Will's forearm in comradely greeting.
"And I you Ben." Will returned the smile with a tired one as he politely bobbed his head to Joseph's wife. "Missus Barker"
"Mister Turner." Missus Barker nodded flashing a small oddly knowing smirk at Peggy as her husband said:
"We were just thanking your friend for taking such good care of our son last night."
"It was nothing, truly." Peggy tried to protest "I-I was just doing what any other would have done."
"Nonetheless, as I said, if you or William need a favour you need only ask. Though I doubt anything will be enough to repay you for saving such a life so precious to us." Mister Barker nodded.
"Well, I…" Peggy gulped doing her best to avoid Will's amused smirk in her direction "Thank you Mister Barker I will keep that in mind. But truly it was no trouble at all. Little Timmy truly is a brave lad."
"Like his father." Missus Barker kissed her son's head as he snuggled his nose into her neck. "Please, don't be a stranger. You are both welcome anytime. Indeed, why don't you join us for breakfast, I know things are a bit chaotic, but I am sure I should be able to-"
"That's very sweet of you Mam but I am afraid we must return to the smithy." Will cut across gently. "Make sure everything is in order."
"Of course," Mister Barker nodded at Will. "Goodness knows how much damage those Pirates caused. I wouldn't be surprised if I went down to my workshop and found it empty of stock."
"But that can wait until later." His wife swatted him sternly. "right now we have a son that needs feeding and a bruise of yours to treat."
"Only too true love. Forgive me William, Miss, but you know how it is. Can't argue with the missus." Mister Barker chuckled. With a smile, he tipped his hat to William and Peggy as he wrapped an arm around his wife and son. Both mother and son smiled and waved at the pair warmly as they were led down the street.
"Well, that's one thing sorted." Peggy smiled as the little family walked safely out of earshot, little Timmy waving another goodbye at her over his mother's shoulder.
"I'm glad you're both alright." Will sighed, his smile falling as his body sagged with exhaustion against her side.
"Will!" She cried out as he swayed where he stood but he was quick to steady himself.
"S'nothing. Just a small bump to the head." He grunted as she reached out to hold him by the elbows.
"Yes, and I'm the captain of the Flying Dutchman." Peggy rolled her eyes. "God Will, what happened to you? You know what, that can wait, I'm getting you home right now!"
"Peg-" He tried to protest but he was too tired to struggle against her dragging him back up the street towards the Smithy and their home. "I'm fine Peg, I'm fine."
"I'll be the judge of that William Turner." Peggy spat as she unlocked the front door to their home and hauled him inside.
She swiftly pulled him over to sit on a hair by the sink, yanking his now dirty brown locks free of their low ponytail so she could run her hand over his scalp and the small hard lump on the back of it.
Had it not been for the occasional painful tug of a knot Will might have enjoyed the sensation of her fingers running through his hair, but he could not. Not when his mind was burning with what he had seen last night.
"They took her."
"Took who?" Peggy turned his head to the side so she could further inspect the lump. Thankfully it didn't seem to be that large.
"Elizabeth." Will winced as her fingers grazed the painful lump. "The pirates, I saw them take her captive. Just after you made it to the fort."
Peggy swore loudly. This…this was not good.
But hold on did that mean what she thought it meant? She'd have to check…but only after she tended to Will's thick head!
"Hmm…I don't feel a cut. Still, I'm going to clean it just to be safe." she said grabbing a bar of soap and a small bucket filled with water she had collected the night before.
"Peggy it's fine. Look, I'm not dizzy any more. I've got to tell the Commodore and the Governor; we must work on saving her-" Will tried pulling himself up straight only to get pushed back forcibly.
"Not yet! I'm cleaning this wound. You can't save Lizzy if you get an infection that kills you along the way."
"But every minute we waste they're getting further and further away-" he tried to push against her again only to get pushed back once more, this time with the added pressure of a tight grip at the top of his scalp tipping his head back into the sink to start viciously scrubbing at it.
"Will, the Black Pearl is one of the fastest ships in the Caribbean. Chances are they're nearly halfway to Tortuga by now. That's if they have a North Easterly behind them. If they're beating upwind against a South Westerly then perhaps the Interceptor has a chance at catching up-"
"B-Black Psha!" Will sputtered, cringing as she accidentally tipped some water into his eye.
"Sorry," Peggy murmured wiping at his eye with a cloth to help him clear it only to stiffen as his hand suddenly gripped her wrist firmly.
"Peg." Will cracked open his good eye to narrow it at her. "How do you know which ship those pirates came from?"
Peggy gulped. Ah damn, she'd been so relieved to see him alive and so preoccupied with her task she'd forgotten to filter herself again. This was…not good.
"I saw it from the fort." She muttered, not quite meeting his eye. "And I've heard many stories about it from the sailors. A black ship with black sails, it's pretty distinctive even by pirate standards."
"I see." Will shut his eyes and frowned letting go of his grip on her. There she was again, hiding something just like yesterday. Everything she said made complete sense while at the same time almost sounding like a complete lie. Jack Sparrow, the Black Pearl and to top it off she was talking like one of the sailors at the docks with such confidence.
Peg, why won't you tell me what's going on? Don't you trust me? He winced as she finished rinsing his hair and began towelling it out with a cloth.
"Alright. No blood came out in the water, so you're good to go." She quickly swiped the wet cloth over his face to clean it of all the sweat and grime. "You're so lucky you didn't get killed."
"As are you." Will pulled himself up to sit shaking off the cloth. As he blinked away a trickle of water from his eye he suddenly became aware of a strange dark stain on Peggy's arm. His eyes widened in alarm. "Your arm-"
"It's nothing." Peggy tried to step out of reach, but Will was too fast. Within the blink of an eye, she was seated in the chair while her friend ripped her sleeve even further to get a better look at her injury.
"It's just a scratch." She mumbled, cheeks flushed with embarrassment as Will traced a small patch of grazed, slightly burnt skin surrounded by dark bruising. "The sleeve took most of the damage."
"Those blasted-" Will shut his mouth to stem the flow of curses that he wanted to snarl even as he reached into the cabinet under the sink for fresh bandages. "Why didn't you say anything?"
"I…I forgot." She tensed as he made a swipe at the wound with some of the leftover soapy water.
"hmph!"
"Seriously Will, I completely forgot. I was carrying a child up a slope while being pursued by pirates. What was I going to do? Ask for a pause so I could patch myself up before continuing the pursuit?"
Will paused, cotton strip in hand.
"No…I know you could not," he muttered, though he was a little less rough as he made to wrap the injury. "That should hold for now."
"Thanks," Peggy mumbled, dropping her arm and tutting at the state of her clothes. Not only was there a tear on her sleeve but her hemline was ripped, and the front of her dress was completely covered in dust and dirt. "Ugh! Bloody pirates. Sheesh!"
"You're sure you're not hurt anywhere else?" Will frowned as he stood to his feet.
"I'm sure. Maybe a little bruised and sore but that's to be expected." Peggy shrugged.
"Good then come on!"
"Wait, Will! What the-? WILL! Will at least let me get my bag!"
I don't believe it. I'm back here again. Peggy sighed as she hiked her skirts to follow Will through the open gates of Fort Charles, a small leather satchel hoisted on one shoulder.
By the sea gods, how many times was she going to run up and down this steep slope? She was not carrying anything heavy in her arms this time, but fretting about Will's sanity did not make the climb any less stressful.
She knew the young man was stubborn and pigheaded when he got an idea in his head, and yes she understood his concern for Elizabeth's plight. Peggy wanted nothing more than to save her friend too, but Will's recklessness was going to get them both killed or worse.
"Will! Will slow down!" She quickly caught herself slipping just in time, cursing her worn shoes to hell and back. Oh, what she would give for a pair of breeches and boots, but unfortunately Will had not given her any opportunity to change her clothes at home, so she had to make do.
Despite his worry, he did manage to spare a small, worried glance back at her as he paused to let her catch up. But no sooner was she by his side did he grip her uninjured arm and drag him along to match his pace.
"Forgive me Peg but the faster we move-"
"Yes yes I know, the faster we move the faster we can save dear Lizzy" Peggy puffed as she did her best to match his longer strides as they crossed the fort's courtyard. Gods, why was he always taller than her? It was not fair!
"They've taken her! They've taken Elizabeth!" he cried as they reached a small platform. There, Commodore James Norrington and Governor Swann were both urgently holding council with other officers and sailors as they poured over various maps and reports.
"Mister Murtogg remove this man," Norrington grunted not taking his eyes off the map before him on the table.
"We have to hunt them down we must save her!" Will cried out, jerking Murtogg off him as the officer tried to grab his arm.
Mullroy then tried to bring Peggy to the side but she shot him a cold look and the man instantly backed off.
"And where do you propose we start?" Governor Swann sighed at Will, and Peggy felt her chest sting with pity at the sight of the older nobleman's desperation. "If you have any information concerning my daughter then please share it."
"T-that Jack Sparrow." Murtogg gulped as he did his best to maintain professional composure "He talked about the Black Pearl"
Just like Peggy said. Will glanced at Peggy whose face seemed to have hardened to stone upon hearing the ship's dreaded name.
"Mentioned it is more what he did" Mullroy coughed.
"Ask him where it is." Will proposed eagerly "Make a deal with him he, could lead us to it-"
"No!"
There was a pause as all the men's eyes turned to look at Peggy, who shut her mouth with a snap.
Not again! She shut her eyes in dismay at her foolishness. All Norrington needed was to know about her conversation with Jack last night and she would be facing the gallows by sunset.
The questioning look the Commodore was giving her was so piercing she almost wanted to shrivel in a corner and hide.
"Quite right, allying with Sparrow would be rather foolish." He clipped coldly, turning back to his map, but Peggy saw the small hand gesture he had given his officers and could feel their footsteps close in behind her. "The Pirates who invaded this fort left Sparrow in his cell, ergo they are not his allies. Though you already knew that didn't you Miss Blake? Indeed, you seemed quite familiar with his effects when I confiscated them from him yesterday. Which just begs the question. How does a young woman who is such good friends with Miss Swann, also familiar with such a deplorable man?"
The silence around the table was so thick it could be cut with a knife. Not a soul moved as all eyes slid to Peggy with either suspicion or confusion.
"Peggy?"
Peggy could feel Will's bewildered gaze on her but could not bear to look at him even as the Commodore straightened up and looked her up and down waiting for an answer. Behind him, the Governor was looking just about as baffled as the rest of the officers, all of whom knew Peggy from seeing her collecting laundry around the fort.
Peggy sucked in a deep breath as she steeled herself. This was going to be tricky, but if she played her cards right she might just get through it by a hair's breadth.
"First thing you must know Commodore was that I was very young. Only eight years of age." She bit her lip but did her best to meet Norrington's eyes head-on. "I…I got lost at sea. M-my father was a merchant. I was travelling with him back to England when one evening I fell overboard. I couldn't catch up to his ship, so I ended up stranded at the nearest port. I tried searching for his ship, but I couldn't find him. With no money and no family for protection, it was hard to find a job that provided food and safe lodgings, especially in such a dangerous place. The only options available that offered such opportunities to someone of my sex were those that would require me to open my legs for men triple my age." She paused as she felt the men around her shift uncomfortably on their feet. "And indeed, many men did try to nab me from the streets and sell me to such institutions. As you can imagine, I quickly realised I could not stay in that hellhole. So, I did the only thing I could. I cut my hair, put on some breeches and stowed aboard the first ship I could find. From then on I hopped around the ocean taking work where I could find it for two years until I washed ashore here at Port Royal after getting caught in a hurricane."
There was a silence as she finished her story. The Governor and William looked most distressed, the latter's fists clenching by his sides as he tried to process the horrors she spoke of. Norrington too seemed to soften slightly at the revelations, though he kept his cool and professional mask in place as he clipped:
"I take it Sparrow tried causing mayhem on one of the ships you served?"
Peggy nodded her head carefully. "Yes sir. He was a wildcard even then."
"And would you trust him to honour his deals if one were to be made?"
"Not in the slightest." Peggy snorted bitterly.
That made Norrington smirk almost smugly at Will, as he folded his arms behind his back and straightened up all prim and proper.
"There you have it, Mister Turner. Proof straight from the horse's mouth. Jack Sparrow is not someone we can trust with our lives, let alone Miss Swann's. Miss Blake," He nodded graciously to Peggy "I thank you for your candour, and I sincerely apologise for asking you to divulge such painful memories under such dreadful circumstances."
"You are quite forgiven sir; I am just happy I could help." Peggy nodded, doing her best to hold herself straight and not sag to the floor into a pile of terrified goo.
Oh my god, I'm not going to hang! I'm not going to hang! She shut her eyes and sucked in a deep breath. Somewhere in the background, she could hear the Commodore start to address the Governor on another course of action, only to have his words interrupted by a loud:
KATHUNK!
"That's not good enough!"
Peggy's eyes jolted open, and she gaped as she saw Will looming over the table, his small hand axe that had once been in his belt now buried deep into one of the maps.
Oh, Will you idiot. She pinched the bridge of her nose as Norrington turned a stern glower towards the young blacksmith, tugging the small axe out of his map.
"Mister Turner. You are not a military man; you are not a sailor. You are a blacksmith. And this is not the moment for rash actions!" he snarled, his calm mask slipping for just a moment as he took Will by the arm and pulled him away towards where Peggy stood. "Do not make the mistake of thinking you are the only man here who cares for Elizabeth."
And with that he handed Will back his axe and stalked back to the council table, barely even glancing back as he called out:
"Miss Blake, please see to it that Mister Turner does not do anything foolish."
"Yes sir." Peggy gulped taking Will by the hand before he could object and dragging him away down the stairs.
Neither noticed Norrington's cold gaze upon her back, as they walked out of sight.
The Commodore had seen the young woman around the Fort plenty of times, and even a few times during her tenure at the Governor's private washhouse. It had not been uncommon to spot her and Elizabeth walking through the estate and talking in the afternoons as they waited for the clothes to dry. Perhaps it was a little unbecoming for Elizabeth to consort with someone of such a lower class, but Miss Blake had been the only girl around her age on the estate so he had supposed it was natural they would gravitate towards one another for companionship.
Indeed, Elizabeth had spoken rather fondly of her friend to Norrington during his visits and given how protective she had proven during their confrontation with Jack Sparrow yesterday, it would seem Miss Blake valued their friendship similarly
But to think that such a friend of Elizabeth's would have such an association with piracy…but then again, if Miss Blake's story of her youth was true, then perhaps she could be forgiven. She had been just a child after all. Since her arrival at Port Royal, she had never, to his knowledge, broken the law. She had also assisted in Sparrow's capture without hesitation. Indeed, she seemed to be quite eager to get him arrested.
That gave Norrington pause.
Why did Miss Blake seem to care so much about being associated with a pirate like Jack Sparrow? If she only had a passing acquaintance with the man as a child, she would not have to fear the hangman's noose.
Now that he thought about it, there were a lot of holes in Miss Blake's story that she had left blank. Oh, she had spoken the truth, Norrington could sense that, but she had left out a lot of details.
Like which ship she had met Jack Sparrow on? And how long they knew one another.
Just how well did Peggy Blake know Jack Sparrow? And why was she so eager to let him hang?
"Why did you lie to him?"
The words cut into Peggy's chest like a knife as she and Will stopped in the middle of a set of stairs near the base of the fort.
Luckily for them, they were all alone. All the officers were too busy cleaning up the debris of stone and cannon fire at the top of Fort Charles or tending to their wounded in the infirmary.
Still, Peggy felt her heart hammer with fear as she glanced around like a frightened rabbit.
Sensing her fear, Will steered her down the stairs and into a small alcove, half hidden by a clump of bushes.
"Why did you lie to Norrington?" he repeated, and though his voice was softer, Peggy could still feel his anger bubbling beneath the surface.
"I did not lie." She muttered.
"But you did not tell him the whole truth." Will folded his arms. "You did not tell him about how that Sparrow hurt you."
"He did not need to know." Peggy bit her lip. "Besides that's not what happened-"
"Oh, so what? Did you lie to me about that as well?" Will glared at her and she sighed running a hand over her face.
"No Will, I-Its-it's…it's…it's complicated. If I told anyone the truth I could have ended up on the gallows."
"Why? It's not like you were a pirate like that Sparrow-" Will stopped quickly, his eyes widening as he glimpsed her now guilty expression. "Peg…you…you were- no. No-no-no!" he took a step back in horror.
"Will-please I can explain-" Peggy grabbed desperately at her friend's vest to stop him from leaving the safety of their hiding place.
"You were a pirate Peg?!" he hissed.
"Will please not so loud-"
"A pirate?"
"No! I mean yes I was but no…not anymore." Peggy hung her head, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. "Look, nearly everything I told Commodore Norrington was true alright! Except perhaps the end. I didn't hop around from ship to ship…I just stuck with the one. Jack's ship, for two years while he was captain."
She peeked up at Will anxiously. He was still upset but was waiting patiently for her to continue.
"I heard the crew plotting to throw a mutiny and I tried to warn Jack about it, but he would not listen. The next day I…I don't know what happened. One minute I was in bed about to fall asleep, the next I was bound and gagged and getting tossed overboard...again." she added bitterly. "I was lucky enough to get picked up by another ship within a few hours but then that one got caught in that massive hurricane and well...that's it. That's why I'm here."
"Truly?" Will raised his eyebrows sceptically and Peggy nodded. "And what did Jack do that was so terrible?"
"Nothing Will." Peggy chuckled though the sound was hollow to his ears. "He did nothing. He just watched them toss me overboard and did nothing. The same way he did nothing when I tried to warn him. You'd think after two years you'd earn yourself some trust but no. He just sat back and let me drop into the drink like a rotten sack of potatoes."
Will opened his mouth to speak but shut it hastily.
From how she spoke, she seemed to have been rather close to the pirate, hell, maybe even cared about him. Peggy, friends with that slimy knave?
The thought almost made Will's stomach turn and twist on itself in a vice.
There must have been more to the story but clearly, that was all she was willing to divulge for now.
"I…I understand that you're angry Will." She murmured; gazed still fixed on the ground in shame.
"I am," Will admitted, though even as he said it he felt his fury ebb slightly. For all her hiding and deceit, the pain in her eyes was real. "Ten years Peg. Ten years! Why didn't you say anything?"
"Because I was scared." She mumbled. "When I washed up here I…it was like a miracle. Like I was given a second chance at having a good clean life. If I had told anyone the truth about my past and they had told the officers, I might have…" she trailed off her hand rubbing at her throat.
Will watched the action and sighed.
She was right. If Norrington or anyone else heard the full truth, they would have had her clapped in irons and hung within the hour. Or if by some miracle she had gotten a second chance in Port Royal, no one would have hired her or given her a place to stay, not even Mister Brown. She would have been blacklisted and forced to work the docks as a prostitute or become a beggar on the streets.
"I…I understand why you wouldn't want anyone to know." He said quietly "But that still didn't answer my question. Why didn't you tell me Peg? You know I'd keep it a secret for you-"
"That's exactly why I couldn't tell you!" Peggy groaned, her face falling into her hands "If anyone found out that you were knowingly harbouring a pirate you'd get the hangman's noose too! Also, you always said you hated pirates and would kill one if you had the chance!"
Will shut his mouth again as his stomach almost flipped inside out with disgust and horror. God, he had said that hadn't he? How many times had he said those sorts of things all those times she sat with him in the forge in the evenings or during their conversations at mealtimes?
Will remembered her tears at the dinner table last night, how scared she had been to answer his questions then. Were those tears not because she feared the pirate's presence but because of her fear of his retaliation? Was she afraid he would hurt her or kill her on the spot because of her past?
Then again, what else was she to think after seeing him fight Jack Sparrow and watching him kill those pirates last night? Even now she was probably afraid of what he might do to her.
The thought almost made him sick. Upset or not, she still was his friend, and she had been with him loyally through thick and thin for ten years.
Slowly and carefully, he pried her hands away from her face with gentle hands. She was not crying again, but her eyes were shut as she winced in anticipation of his next words.
"Look, Peggy." He coughed, doing his best to sound much calmer than he felt. "I'm sorry I said those things-"
"Don't be." Peggy shook her head eyes still shut. "And don't apologise. I chose not to tell the truth; I chose to lie about my past. Whatever the consequences of those actions are, I'll take them without complaint. Even if it means you may hate me and never forgive me."
"I don't hate you," Will muttered, feeling his ears burn as she glanced up at him with surprise and a little hope. "I don't. I'm still angry with you for lying but I don't hate you. I just… I just wished you could have told me everything before someone like Norrington forced it out of you."
"So do I...And maybe one day I might tell you everything."
"There's more?" Will raised his brows, but Peggy was relieved to see the small smirk.
"Yes. There's more." She sighed. "But…"
"But you're not ready." Will finished softly and she shook her head.
"No…I'm not."
"Then I'll wait till you are ready to tell me. Just like I promised." He gripped her hands tight in his as he leaned forward.
"Oww! Hey!" she winced as she felt his skull knock gently into hers. "I thought you said you'd stop doing that?!"
"I said I'd stop doing that if you stopped doing stupid things." He grinned as he pulled away, satisfied with his work. "And now you have a bump to match mine. We're even."
"Speaking of stupid things, what the hell are we going to do about helping Lizzy? Norrington is not in a hurry to leave soon." Peggy whined, rubbing the spot where their heads collided, and Will grimaced.
"I have an idea…" he muttered darkly. "But I don't think you're going to like it."
Peggy met his gaze, and her face fell.
"No"
There we are, almost, almost ghah! Dammit! Jack Sparrow cursed softly to himself as he tried twisting his wrist around at an odd angle.
He had been trying to pick at his lock with a broken piece of bone for God knows how long and all he had achieved was a locked cell with a bone sticking out of the lock.
"Please, come on please" he murmured as he twiddled again with the broken shard to angle it slightly down-
The thudding of footsteps thundered in his ears and instinctively Jack leapt back from his task, hands flying out on his side as he landed on the floor on his back.
Gods if it were any of those bloody red coats coming to do him in that would be the giddy limit.
But it wasn't.
Now what have we here? Jack's eyebrows rose in surprise as he glimpsed a familiar cloud of copper curls descending the stairs, followed closely by that dark-haired whelp from the smithy, what was his name again?
"You Sparrow!" The boy called.
"Aye!" Jack raised his head to look at the lad. Good Lord that scowl of his looked mighty familiar.
"You're familiar with that ship the Black Pearl."
"I've heard of it." Jack leaned back with a small suggestive grin at Peggy. But to his surprise, she did not look as tense as before. Something was different, something had changed.
"So where does it make berth?" the boy asked.
"Where does it make berth? Hasn't your friend here told you the stories?" Jack sat up and grinned at Peggy. "'ello again love. I see you traded back the little whelp for the big one."
"Jack please answer his question." Peggy folded her arms.
"Oh, so it's Jack now? My, my, you must be desperate." He raised his eyebrows coolly at her. So, she had told the lad then huh? Now that was surprising.
But I'll bet she hasn't told him everything.
He grinned as he turned back to said lad, "Captain Barbossa and his crew of miscreants, sailed to the dreaded Isle de Muerte. It's an island that cannot be found except, by those who already know where it is."
"The ship's real enough." the whelp glanced at Peggy who nodded, then quickly turned back to Jack "Therefore it must be a real place where is it?"
"Why ask me?" Jack reclined and started picking at his nails.
"Because you're a pirate."
"So is dear Pegsy. Why don't you ask her? No wait, I forgot. You gave up on this way of life, didn't you Pegs." Jack chuckled at Peggy, his eyes glinting wickedly. "Unless… hehe, unless you want to come back, is that it? One sight of ol'Jackie after ten years and it's enough to have you crawling back for a taste of the good old days?"
"Don't flatter yourself." Peggy snarled, putting a hand on her friend's shoulder to stop him from lunging at the bars.
Jack watched as the whelp took a second to calm himself with a breath before exhaling:
"They've taken Miss Swann."
"Oh, so it is that you've found a girl. Though I can't imagine why you'd be looking at another lass when you've got this exquisite specimen here. Good news for the rest of us real men ey?" Jack waggled his eyebrows.
"Bold of you to assume you qualify as a real man." Peggy shot back, and the lad had the nerve to smirk with amusement at the jibe.
"Cheeky brat." Jack muttered as he rose to his elbows "All jokes aside, if you're intending to brave all, hasten to her rescue and so win fair lady's heart…you'll have to do it all on your own mate. I see no profit innit for me." He leaned back and looked up at the ceiling.
"Really?" Peggy smirked, "Not even if we could get you out of here?"
"And how'd you do that? The key's run off." Jack grumbled pointing at the stairs next to his cell that went down deeper into the fort.
"Because I helped build these cells." The whelp drew back, looking at the bars up and down. "These are half-pin barrel hinges. Quick, move Peg." He shooed Peggy to the side as he reached to pick up the wooden bench opposite Jack's cell. "With the right leverage, and the proper application of strength-" the lad grunted as he wedged one of the legs of the bench against the vertical bars. "- the door will lift free."
He smiled at Jack, who felt himself freeze.
Oh, he had seen that smile before, he knew he had. For some reason, the image of a shorter man with similarly dark hair came to mind. Decent bloke and very loyal till the bitter end. And what a bitter end it was.
"What's your name?" he frowned up at the lad.
"Will Turner."
No…no that couldn't be…oh this is just too good. It took everything Jack had not to let the victorious grin spread across his face as he sat up fully. He still had to make sure.
"That'd be short for William I'd imagine. Good strong name. No doubt named for your father ey?"
"Yes." The lad, Will, paused glancing at Peggy who likewise looked just as confused.
"Uh-Huh" Doesn't she know? That's odd. I would have thought she of all people would have figured it out. But Jack kept that titbit to himself. Many men went by nicknames when on the sea, she might never have figured it out if no one ever mentioned it. Well, he'd have to figure it out when they got out of here wouldn't he?
"Well mister Turner, I've changed me mind. If you and darling Pegsy spring me from this cell, I swear on pain of death, I'll take you to the Black Pearl and your bonnie lass. Do we have an accord?" He reached his hand out through the bars and was pleased when Will took it firmly, though not without a little hesitation.
"Agreed."
"Agreed."
"And you Pegsy? Are we agreed?" Jack offered his hand to Peggy, who shook it briefly, before pulling her hand back quickly and dusting it off.
Ah, still peeved at me. I'm going to have to work on that. Jack smiled as he stepped back. "Alright, now, get me out."
Peggy backed out of the way as Will maneuvered the bench to the next rung down. There was the groaning and squeak of metal scraping metal as with a massive push down on the bench, the lad levered the iron bars right off their hinges and tossed them aside.
Peggy winced as the door clanged loudly to the floor, but Jack was already on his feet bounding over the threshold like a dog let out of the kennel for the first time.
"Hurry, someone would have heard that!" Will set the bench aside and looked up the stairs that led up into the fort where he could hear a few footsteps moving overhead.
"Not without my effects!" Jack quickly dashed over to the hooks on the wall and snatched up his belongings, including his long coat and hat. Oh, thank heavens they kept the hat.
"Down here!" Peggy hissed from the bottom of the stairs by Jack's cell where she was peeking through a small wooden door. "All clear." She whispered as Jack and Will followed her through.
"You know where you're going, love?"
"Of course I do, I work here." Peggy hissed as she led them outside into the open air. To Jack's surprise, they were outside the fort walls in a wide patch of grass littered with large mounds, each marked by a white-painted wooden cross.
"Quickly this way." She hitched up her skirts and darted across the graveyard towards a clump of tropical trees.
Jack and Will were quick to follow her, glancing nervously up at the walls of the Fort above them. Fortunately, there appeared to be no soldiers keeping a lookout but still, it eased both men's nerves when they reached the safety of the dense foliage on the other side.
"You sure they won't see us?" Will muttered as he accidentally bumped into Peggy's back. Despite being surrounded by such dense foliage, she seemed to know her way through quite easily.
"Quite sure. I use this shortcut all the time. Just keep a watch for low branches." She added as she ducked to avoid said, low-hanging branch. Will and Jack followed her lead, having to duck far more than she did due to their height. "If we stick to the path we should make it to the washhouse. Once there I can get a change of clothes and we can head to the beach. I hope Missus Berry is not in today. That old bat really could screw things up."
"Change?" Will frowned.
"Yes, Will, change." Peggy sighed. "There's no way in hell I'm going to be able to sail in this getup."
"Hmm, well that's a shame." Jack huffed as he almost stumbled over a loose stone. "That skirt is rather flattering for your rear."
"Bloody pirate," Peggy grumbled keeping her gaze dead set ahead on the path before her as Jack was treated to a glower from Will.
"What? Come now lad, you can't tell me you haven't thought about taking a cheeky peek at what's under those skirts."
"No!" Will answered perhaps a little too quickly, his ears burning bright pink.
"Jack stop teasing him," Peggy called back irritably, and Jack shook his head.
"That lass, still as bossy as a bloody mother hen."
"You should see her at home," Will muttered unable to help himself even as Peggy snapped:
"I heard that!"
They quickly found the washhouse, a small single-floored building with many washing lines out on the eastern side while smoke rose out the chimney up top. Since it was clearly in use Peggy had to sneak around the outer walls and steal some clothes from one of the lines. Jack had to admit she was very calm and collected about the theft, barely even flinching an inch when a woman's voice called out through the window:
"Peg dear, is that you? By God, you gave me a fright."
"Oh, hi Clara. Sorry I didn't see you there." Peggy smiled in relief her eyes darting nervously "Is Missus Berry in yet?"
"You just missed her," the woman, Clara replied, and Jack smirked as he saw Peggy's shoulders sag with relief. Whoever this dreaded Missus Berry was, she must be a nightmare to invoke that reaction.
"That old bat is up at the Fort with the girls delivering fresh sheets for the infirmary. Well, I say delivering. Honestly, the day that hag does any work will be the day hell freezes over." Clara snorted and Peggy chuckled.
"True, too true."
"So, what are you doing here?" Clara asked and Jack and Will caught sight of a pale elbow and hand and a lock of blonde hair peeking out the window. "I heard from Lu that you were quite the hero last night when you saved that little Timmy Barker from them pirates."
"Yeah, I just delivered him back to his parents." Peggy sighed. "They were very relieved as you can imagine. As for now, I'm just picking up something fresh for Will. The idiot tried challenging the pirates if you can believe it."
"Oh dear, is he alright?"
"He's fine." Peggy waved Clara off, uncomfortably aware of Will and Jack's gazes peeking out just from behind a bush. "Thankfully all he ended up with was a ripped shirt and a small bump to the head."
"I hardly see how a ripped shirt on that lad qualifies as such an emergency that you'd steal the officers' clothes?" Clara said slyly and Jack had to smirk. Oh, he liked where this was going.
"It's hardly stealing when they're his clothes I added to yesterday's lot." Peggy sighed as she tugged a pair of breeches down from the line and Will was surprised to see that it was his clothes she was taking, along with those that belonged to a much shorter man.
"Still, I suppose it would be a bit too much of a temptation even for you." Clara ignored Peggy's statement with a knowing smirk "I mean, think about it, letting a strapping lad like him run around that forge all bare-chested and gleaming with sweat as he hammers away at that anvil," Clara smirked. "Though we both know that if you had the chance you'd have the lad hammering away at your-"
"CLARA!" Peggy shouted, the sound just loud enough to mask the small snort of laughter that escaped Jack as he clapped a hand over his mouth to muffle the sound.
HA! This was just priceless. It was well worth the capture by those red coats yesterday. Peggy's face was as red as her hair, and poor William beside him was looking stunned like a dead mullet, his crimson-flushed ears utterly scandalised by the other woman's lewd commentary.
"Oh come now Peggy," Clara chuckled at her fellow woman's mortification. "All jokes aside he's a fine lad with a stable, respectable job and he's always looking after you so well-"
"Clara, how many times do I have to tell you? Will and I are just friends! Now I really must hurry and get back." Peggy turned on her heel to walk away, only to pause as Clara called back to her:
"Wait-wait Peggy!"
"What?" Peggy turned around for one last look.
"I'm glad you're alright."
"I'm glad you're alright too Clara. Stay safe."
There was the sliding of wood against wood and then silence as Peggy quickly dashed back to Jack and Will's hiding place, her face positively seething with unbridled embarrassed rage even as she spat through gritted teeth.
"Not. A. Word."
"My lips are sealed, love." Jack put his hands up in mock surrender, still grinning widely with mirth. "though if you'd like we could make a stop at the smithy. Buy you and dear William here some extra time to hammer things out between you two-oof!" he doubled over as she retracted her elbow from his gut.
"Come on!" Will coughed, avoiding both the pirate's and his friend's eyes. "We should get a move on."
"Half a moment, I still need to get changed," Peggy mumbled as she stepped behind a nearby tree.
She quickly shed her dress, grateful that Clara had not noticed her sneaking the smaller clothes from the line or the hat and pair of men's boots left by the door for brushing and polishing. She kept her pair of stays on over the top of her short shift which she tucked into the pants as best she could. Then she donned one of Will's spare shirts she had snagged and slipped a blue sailor's vest and matching jacket on top. The shirt might have been a bit long in the arms for her but so long as she kept the sleeves rolled up around her wrist she could make do. She also quickly tied her back in a ponytail which she pulled up under the hat she swiped along with the boots. Then, as a finishing touch, she fastened her belt around her waist, along with the scissors that she kept in her holster on her hip.
All in all, it was not the best disguise, but she doubted no one would think her anything more than one of the young lads just starting on his first voyage.
"We're losing daylight lass" Jack called out as she finished stuffing the last of the spare clothes she had stolen into her satchel on top of her copy of Tales on the Deep. She was not sure why she took the book, but she had a feeling it would come in use soon enough if only to keep her entertained on a windless day.
"Ready!" She stood up and almost squeaked as she came nearly nose to nose with Jack who quickly put a hand over her mouth to silence her.
"Yeesh! Not so loud lass, you'll bring the whole navy on us." He rolled his eyes as she yanked his hand off her. "Well, ain't this a sight for sore eyes." His grin softened slightly as he looked her up and down.
"Where's Will?" she muttered, clearly not in the mood for reminiscing like he was.
"Oh the whelp, he's fine. He's still back there trying to be a gentleman and resisting the urge to sneak a peek." Jack waved her off airily, enjoying her scowl of annoyance "And speaking of peeking, I need to know. How well do you know the layout of that lovely lady down in the harbour? You know, the ship those two dullards were supposed to protect from my handsome self?"
"You mean the Interceptor?" Peggy quirked a brow as she straightened up. "Fairly well, I've done the laundry for the captain's quarters a few times."
"And what about the cargo hold or the brig? How well do you know them?"
"You want me to stow away and hide until you give the signal." Peggy folded her arms.
"Just like old times ey?" Jack smirked, pleasantly surprised. So, she had not forgotten everything. Little scamp.
"What about you and Will? How will you two get on board?" she asked.
"We'll find our way. You focus on getting yourself on board safe and sound and we'll figure it out on our end."
"Why don't we all just go at the same time?"
"Too risky love, it's much harder for three people to sneak aboard one ship without detection. Besides you're still small, you can fit into more hidey holes than me or that lummox."
"…fine. But I'm warning you, Jack, if you dare double cross Will or I-"
"Yes, yes, I'm sure you shall bring down the full power of your unbridled wrath upon my poor bedraggled soul." Jack cut across her waspishly. "Now come on, we're losing the light."
William Turner stared at the back of Jack Sparrow's dreadlocked head.
The last twenty-four hours had been the strangest of his life.
He had helped aid in the arrest of a pirate by duelling him and had discovered his best friend was once a friend and fellow crewmate of said pirate. He had survived a raid on Port Royal led by even more pirates who had kidnapped the woman he had loved from afar for nearly ten years. And now he was helping the first pirate he had ever met and helped apprehend escape prison and steal – no wait – commandeer a ship so he could save her, all while his best friend snuck aboard another ship on said pirate's orders.
And now somehow, all of this insanity had culminated in perhaps one of the maddest schemes he had ever been roped into.
He could not believe this plan was working.
Who would have thought that two men dragging a small rowboat to the bottom of the sea floor would be the perfect way to sneak undercover onto a moored ship?
"This is either madness or brilliance." He said as he briefly readjusted his grip on the sides of the small vessel.
"It's remarkable how often those two traits coincide," Jack grunted.
Will opened his mouth to ask something, but the crunch of something wooden under his foot was so surprising he almost let go of the boat.
He looked down and silently swore under his breath as he realised he had gotten his foot caught in a lobster trap.
Great, just my luck. He tried to shake the damn thing off, but it would not budge no matter how hard he shook his head.
"Just keep moving lad! Or we'll run out of air down here" Jack rolled his eyes irritably.
Why-oh-why did he bring this whelp along? Oh yes, that's right, because he was his only ticket to getting his beautiful Pearl back.
Still, he'd much prefer it if little Pegsy was here with him instead, if only for the better company. But no. He needed her on the other ship for his brilliant plan to work, and he'd much rather entrust that job to someone who possessed more brains than poor lovesick William.
I just hope she hasn't lost her touch. He thought sucking in a deep breath as he and William let go of their boat and swam back up to the surface.
"TURNER AND SPARROW HAVE TAKEN THE DAUNTLESS! THEY'VE TAKEN THE DAUNTLESS!"
Commodore James Norrington glared daggers as he lowered his telescope from the harbour.
He was not quick to anger, but today even he was pushed to his limits.
After a sleepless night fighting pirates and an even more restless morning planning the rescue attempt for the woman he loved he was in no mood for any delays or shenanigans. It was bad enough that the Turner's and Miss Blake's interruption this morning had rankled his already worn nerves till they were threadbare.
While he understood and even empathised with the younger man's desperation to find Elizabeth, Norrington was still a man of honour. He had a responsibility to his men to set an example for them, to put duty before the matters of the heart. While it pained him that he could not simply dash out there and throw caution to the wind to save her, Norrington was sure that Elizabeth would understand. She was the Governor's daughter after all, she understood what it meant to be a pillar of responsibility towards Port Royal.
She surely would not approve of a reckless blacksmith and a lousy excuse of a pirate messing with the navy, endangering lives and hindering any rescue attempt made in her name.
"Rash Turner. Too rash. That is without doubt the worst pirate I have ever seen." He muttered between gritted teeth as he gestured for Officer Groves to join him back on the Interceptor, which thankfully, was ready to set sail and pursue the criminals.
Many men were dashing aboard the ship, unfurling the sails and preparing to set out. Upon his command to hurry to aid the Dauntless, the action sped up tenfold.
Most men who carried lighter supplies dropped their cargo to help secure rigging and set out or went down into the hold to collect weapons and guns from below for themselves and their fellow crewmates. One young man carrying a small barrel of gunpowder almost dropped his cargo as Norrington accidentally bumped into him on his way up to the helm.
"Sorry sir!" the youth scrambled to catch the barrel before it could fall and smash. Norrington glanced down at the lad. He wasn't that tall and seemed no more than a boy in age what with the roundness of his cheeks. His clothes, while clean, were a bit too big for his slender wiry frame and his boots a bit too long. He had tanned freckled skin and a small floppy fringe of bright red that peeked out from under his hat to hang over his eyes.
Hmm, they'd have to do something about that. He couldn't have an officer or a sailor running around with an unkempt appearance in his service. Then again everyone had been in such a rush to get ready to leave this morning.
Must be one of the new cabin boys. Grove did say they were a bit green. Norrington grimaced with pity at the lad who kept his eyes averted down to the ground seemingly in shame.
"You boy! Go to my office and fetch my gun and my sword!" Norrington barked and was impressed when the boy nodded dutifully and said in a clear, yet slightly broken voice:
"Yes sir!"
The lad quickly set aside his barrel and dashed into his office behind him. It did not take him long to find his commanding officer's effects and he had even filled a little bit of gunpowder from his previous barrel into a small pouch for Norrington to use.
Good lad. He took the gunpowder and ordered the boy to help his fellow sailors prepare the grapples for boarding. As the lad dashed off, Norrington kept watch on his progress. Despite the chaos on deck, the youth wove smoothly through the officers and sailors like a fish in water, not stumbling once as the boat took a rather hard rock from the waves.
He must be one of the fishermen's sons. They tend to be more at home on the water.
Norrington nodded approvingly and turned on his heel to stalk to the portside railing. At least something good was coming from this debacle.
It was not often he accepted fresh recruits on such important voyages like these and he liked to keep an eye on their progress if only to catalogue their usefulness in future campaigns. The last cabin boy he had been saddled with had been a rather dim-witted and clumsy bootlicker. At least this one knew how to listen to orders.
If this boy did well, it may prove a valuable stepping stone in his future career.
Speaking of stepping stones, there was one annoying one Norrington had to cross as he took out his telescope. The Interceptor was approaching the Dauntless fast, it would not be long till they were side by side and able to board.
He could not see Sparrow nor Turner on deck anymore, but since they were already so far out in the water the commodore doubted either man would be mad enough to jump overboard now.
"Prepare to board!" Officer Groves barked beside him as a long, boarding plank was raised at the ready.
"Search every cabin, every hold, down to the bilges!" Norrington commanded as he clambered up the plank and onto the bigger ship.
The boarding was swift, and all his men were well-prepared and eager for combat as they flooded onto the deck of the Dauntless, not a man was spared. Like Jack Russell Terriers trying to sniff out rats in a barn, they ran hither and thither searching for the two miscreants, but no one saw them.
Everyone was so busy delving into the massive hull and checking every nook and cranny that they did not notice two shadows that swung from the bow of the Dauntless to the Interceptor's upper deck, where a smaller figure stood alone with his sword drawn waiting for them.
But instead of striking at the two intruders, the smaller person began slicing at all the ropes that secured the boarding party's grapples and plank as their fellow thieves made their way to the ship's wheel and began steering the vessel away.
There was the grinding of wood as the boarding plank tumbled down the side of the Dauntless, scratching the starboard side of the hull before crashing into the waters below with a loud resounding SPLASH!
Norrington wheeled about in alarm at the horrible sound, his gut falling like a stone as he saw three figures standing at the Interceptor's helm. It was Sparrow and Turner, and…the cabin boy?!
What on earth? What was going on?!
"Sailors back to the Interceptor NOW!" he roared but already his officers seemed to have noticed their mistake and were scrambling to grab at ropes in a feeble attempt to stop their vessel from leaving.
One brave sailor dared to try swinging from a rope to get to the Interceptor's stern only to land hard in the blue wet below.
As the poor man splashed about trying to right himself a strong gust of wind picked up and blew away the hat of the cabin boy still on the Interceptor, releasing a long ponytail of copper curls into the wind and revealing a distinctly feminine face.
MISS BLAKE?! What on earth is she doing with Turner and Sparrow?! How did none of us notice her boarding?! Norrington's nostrils flared with wrath that grew as Sparrow swept off his hat and shouted gleefully:
"Thank you Commodore for getting us ready to make way. We'd have had a hard time of it by ourselves!" The pirate dared to give Norrington a mocking bow even as the officers on board the Dauntless made to shoot at them with their muskets.
Turner, Sparrow and Miss Blake quickly ducked under cover of the railings, but Norrington was in no mood to watch them anymore as he turned on his heel to join the sailors at the helm.
The Interceptor might be a fast ship, but the Dauntless would eventually catch her up, and even if she could, she could always shoot her down once the cannons were in range.
"Set topsails and clear up this mess!" he snapped at Officer Grove who was bustling behind him like a frantic bee.
"With the wind a quarter astern, we won't catch them!"
"I don't need to. Just get them in range of the long nines."
"Yes sir!" Officer Groves nodded and began giving the orders to the men, though not without a small grimace of discomfort. "We are to fire on our own ship sir?"
"I'd rather see her at the bottom of the ocean than in the hands of a pirate" Norrington growled. It felt wretched giving the order but what choice did they have?
"Commodore" A sailor called from the helm wheel. "He's disabled the rudder chain sir!"
Norrington was about to open his mouth to answer but was interrupted by the loud shouts of Gillette far below telling his men to abandon ship as their tiny rowboat came in the way of the Dauntless' bow.
There was the crunching of wood and several splashes as men dived for the safety of the water to avoid getting crushed to death.
Norrington groaned in dismay as the Interceptor sailed away. He scowled as he saw Sparrow waving at him from the helm while Miss Blake hung off one of the shrouds and delivered a mocking salute, her coppery curls billowing in the wind behind her. The only one not bidding an insulting goodbye was Turner but that was only because he was too busy checking over the ship's rigging at the orders of his new pirate captain.
Bloody pirate...
Norrington growled.
To think in two hours, a Pirate, a blacksmith and a washerwoman had stolen one of the finest ships in the Royal Navy from right under his nose.
"That's got to be the best pirate I have ever seen." Officer Groves said admiringly.
"So, it would seem." For now. Norrington finished in his head. Once he and his men repaired the Dauntless and saved Elizabeth, he was going to hunt down that blackguard Jack Sparrow and ensure he made it to the hangman's noose.
Even if he had to drag him there with his own bare hands.
Notes:
There we have it, Chapter 4 up and running. It was fun writing from Norrington's perspective. As for why he did not notice Peggy on board, she was in disguise and I don't think even he was expecting her to do something so rash. After all, as everyone in the POTC fandom knows, she was so honest and it's the honest ones you've got to look out for ;)
Anyways, as always, if you enjoyed then please review, follow or fave (or do all three!).
Thanks,
FuzzyBeta
Chapter 5: A Pirate's Musk
Summary:
"Can you sail under the command of a pirate, or can you not?"
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
It was that easy huh?
Peggy Blake sighed as she pulled her head up from where it hung over the edge of a wooden rail.
The HMS Interceptor had been sailing for an hour now, the Dauntless and the British Officers of Port Royal long behind them. The sun had since passed the midday point above her and drifted in and out behind the few clouds that littered the bright blue Caribbean sky. Around her, the winds billowed strong and sure, carrying their vessel speedily onwards and smoothly through the water.
But Peggy was in no mood to admire the beautiful sights, not when her stomach was busy trying to empty itself of all its contents no matter how little there were.
She was not the only one. Will was a couple of feet away from her, his head fully slumped over the side and heaving as Jack Sparrow grimaced with disgust behind him, not offering him any help.
Of course, being the experienced seaman he was, Jack was not unsettled by the ship rocking as he meandered around the deck and checked the rigging. While it was mostly done, some of those British Naval Officers had left a little bit of a mess behind in the wake of their excitement to capture the Dauntless much to the pirate's annoyance.
Wow. I guess, some things don't change.
Peggy thought as she straightened up and turned her back on the water, keeping a close eye on Jack, who looked up as he felt her gaze on him. When he caught sight of her woozy expression his eyebrows rose in astonishment.
"Oh come on don't tell me you got seasick too Pegsy?" He sounded disappointed. "Really? You?"
"It's been ten years Jack." Peggy groaned wiping her mouth with her sleeve, cheeks burning with embarrassment despite herself "Guess I am a bit rusty."
"That you are love." Jack snorted as he tugged on a sheet to test the knot that held it. "So much so that you've completely forgotten rule number one-"
"Remind me what that was again? It's been a while." Peggy smirked.
"Captain," He clipped. "Rule number one. Always call me Captain. Remember?"
"Eh, I'll try to" She shrugged oh-so-innocently as she strode over to Will's side, enjoying her Captain's eyebrow twitching irritably in her direction.
"No, you will call me captain and you will get this one something for his stomach. I'll not have him vomiting all over my nice new ship. Savvy?"
"Of course."
"Of course…?" Jack prompted; eyebrows raised.
Peggy sighed.
"Of course, Captain."
"There that was not so hard now was it?" Jack smiled with satisfaction at the glower he received. "Now of with you both! And no hammering away at one another while I'm not looking ey!" he added and chuckled as he saw Peggy's cheeks flush a deep crimson.
"Bloody pirate." She muttered as she reached Will's side. Thankfully he had not heard the comment for he had been too busy gagging up the last bits of bile from his system.
"I'm fine, I think that's the last of it." the young blacksmith grunted as she rubbed soothing circles on his back.
"Still, we should go get some food down the hatch. Can't sail on an empty stomach." Peggy petted her aching belly.
"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Will grumbled as he allowed her to pull him back up to his feet and steer him below deck. "What if I throw it up again?"
"You won't." Peggy patted his arm consolingly. "Just a smidge of ginger root and you'll be right as rain."
"Ginger?" Will frowned at her blearily as she carefully led him down the stairs.
"Trust me, Will. You'll be fine."
They quickly descended to the galley a large space with a small kitchen at the bow where Peggy put together a small platter of bread, cheese, meat jerky and apple slices while she waited for the kettle to boil over the small oven.
Will watched her as she worked, his brow furrowed as he observed the strange calm that had descended on her. She looked just about as at home on the ship as she had back in their tiny apartment above the forge, it was eerie.
He would never forget how she had hung off the shroud earlier when waving goodbye to the Dauntless. It was as if clambering the ship's rigging like a cat were the most natural thing in the world.
He numbly accepted the hot tin cup of ginger tea she placed into his hands, her reassuring smile doing little to soothe his racing confused mind.
She looked like Peggy Blake and spoke like Peggy Blake, but Peggy Blake was just a young washerwoman who tended to her house with pride and occasionally wielded a sword to defend herself. She was not supposed to be a pirate who had sailed under the colours of Jack Sparrow, who was so adept at disguising herself in men's clothes and moving about on a ship.
Just who was this person he had been living with all these years? What was she?
"Better?" Peggy asked as she took a massive swig from her tin cup.
"Hmm." Will sighed as the warm liquid slid down his gullet. He was not too fond of the flavour, but his gut did not feel as unsettled as before so he supposed he could put up with it "How did you know it would work?"
"Oh, it's just something I picked up from old Bootstrap. Sweet fellow he was." Peggy smiled tossing water on the oven's fire to douse it. "On a pirate's ship where it's usually every man for himself, he was one of the few who looked out for me whenever Jack wasn't around. He taught me a few tricks here and there while we were at sea. He was a good man; you would have liked him."
I doubt that. Will said in his mind but he took another sip to disguise his disgust. It was one thing to accept Peggy's past but that still did not mean it was uncomfortable with the idea of her friendships with other pirates…even if they were kind to her.
Still, he could not deny his curiosity was peaked.
"So what were you?" He nodded at Peggy as she looked at him questioningly. "What was your job on Jack's ship?"
"Cabin boy. Well, Cabin girl" Peggy shrugged. "Not much for a little girl to do on a ship without getting in the way of everyone. And I daresay it amused Jack to make me run up and down the ship for his rum. Speaking of," she picked up a bottle of rum and tucked it under her arm before taking the platter of food in the other. "We should eat up on deck. The fresh air will do us good."
Will nodded silently and followed her back up above deck. They briefly stopped by the weapons bay where he picked up a cutlass and a whetstone.
"Why do you need those? You already have a sword." Peggy frowned as they ascended to the deck.
"Yes I do have a sword, but you don't." Will pointed to her belt. "You can't just stab people with your scissors all the time. Besides, this is one of my good ones." He added showing her the end of the pommel where he had engraved his maker's mark, a small W and T on either side of an anchor. "It needs a little sharpening, but it will serve you well."
"Then I'll leave it in your capable hands Master Turner" Peggy smiled as she admired the blade, it was a good one. Not as fine as the one he had made for Norrington's promotion, and it had seen some wear and tear. But if Will thought it was good she trusted his judgement.
Jack was at the Helm wheel, gently turning the boat a few degrees starboard so that the sails filled, and the luffing stopped.
"Ah! There you are Pegsy, I was beginning to think you'd jumped overboard. Oh, and you've brought some grub too? Excellent." He grinned as he saw the platter in Peggy's grip.
"Can't have the captain starve to death before we reach Tortuga." She shook her head dismissively as she set the tray on a barrel that Will had rolled across the deck to use as a makeshift table.
Jack sauntered down to join them, brown eyes lighting up with glee as she thrust a bottle of rum into his arms.
"Hmm, I knew you still loved me." He tried to lean in to kiss Peggy's cheek, but she leaned away and gagged.
"Nope! Nuh-uh! Sorry Captain, but you need to do something about that breath of yours. It's foul."
"My breath is not foul!" Jack scoffed and she rolled her eyes.
"Jack you could kill a seagull at long range."
Will couldn't help but smirk as Jack's nostrils flared at the insult only to quickly turn away and breathe into his own hands.
There was a pause as the pirate winced and then deflated in defeat.
"I guess it is a little ripe." He muttered with a small pout, uncorking his bottle of rum and downing a consolatory swig from it.
Peggy sighed, and Will was astonished to see the pity in her eyes as she looked the pirate up and down.
"Just eat up first then you can wash up, alright?"
"Right. Then I can kiss ye?" Jack smirked cheekily and was not disappointed by the withering look he incurred.
"No."
"And why not? I am the captain of this ship." Jack opened his arms wide. "I could order you to obey."
Will stiffened midway through a bite of apple, his other hand twitching on the handle of his sword. The man was incorrigible, but not even he would dare order Peggy into selling her body and dignity to him. Would he?
No, this had to be banter right? If it weren't, Will did not think Peggy would be so relaxed even as she tore a chunk of bread off with her teeth.
"Yes, you could order me." She smirked as she chewed "Just as much as I could take my scissors and cut your manhood off."
"Oh-ho-you say that lass you say that. But methinks the lady doth protest too much."
"No. This lady thinks that the rake in front of her hasn't laid with a woman in weeks, and she does not want to end up another notch on his bedpost."
Will relaxed as he saw the lack of licentiousness or anger in the pirate's eyes as he snorted in response. Instead, he saw only mirth as Jack looked Peggy up and down.
"Speaking of tongues young missy, that one in your head has gotten sharper."
"Or has yours just gotten duller?"
"Bah! It just needs a little rum and I'll be back in top form." Jack waved her off as he took a bite of cheese for himself. "That pal Norrington of yours runs a pretty dry establishment."
"Excuses, excuses." Peggy yawned wide. "Sorry."
"You should go get some sleep," Will murmured, cursing himself as he noticed the bags under her eyes and the darkening circles. How long had those been there? And how had he not noticed them before? "You didn't get any sleep at all last night did you?"
"What? And miss out on all the fun?" Peggy snorted sarcastically as she stood up, rubbing her temple as she forced herself to shove the last piece of bread with a small chunk of cheese into her mouth. "Don't worry about me I'll just take a nap in the captain's quarters."
"Hold up love, I thought you said you didn't want to be in my bed?" Jack quirked a brow and Peggy groaned.
"I won't be in your bed. I'll sleep in the cabin boy's nook."
"Ahh! That's my girl."
"Your girl?" Will's eyes hardened on the pirate, but that only amused him further.
"Aye, my cabin girl. Knew she was still in there somewhere." He added fondly as he watched her back disappear into the captain's quarters. His smirk widened as he caught sight of Will's mounting anger. "What? You thought just because little Pegsy was with you on land for ten years it'd strip the pirate right outta her? Nah mate! Once a pirate, always a pirate. And don't let those big blue eyes fool you. That girl is as ruthless as they come."
"That I already knew," Will admitted.
"Ey? You did?" Jack blinked in surprise and Will nodded and raised the sword he had taken from the armoury below to start scraping at it with the whetstone.
"We've been sparring with one another for years. She's the only one in town who's been able to knock me down in a fight."
"You don't say." Jack stroked his chin thoughtfully as he stood up and checked some of the shrouds behind him.
The blighter, and here he was worrying she hadn't kept up her practice. No wonder the whelp was good with a sword. She must have taught him some of her tricks.
Little brat, pretending to be all sweet and law-abiding but you were keeping your head down and biding your time ey?
"So how'd you two end up meeting anyway?" Jack asked, not turning to look at the lad behind him.
"I found her." Will grimaced as he remembered the little girl's pale face against the wet sand. "She had gotten caught in a hurricane and was washed up there on the beach at Port Royal. At first, I thought she was dead." Will shuddered at the memory "Thank goodness she wasn't"
"And you just took her in, did you? How charitable." Jack snorted sardonically. "And what about you? How'd you end up here in the Caribbean?"
"When I was a lad living in England, my mother raised me by herself." Will grunted as he finished a stroke with the whetstone. "After she died I came out here. Looking for my father."
"Issat so?" Jack mumbled as he tugged a knot tighter to secure it before wandering back up the helm, but Will was not done yet.
"My father, Bill Turner?" He stood to his feet to doggedly follow the pirate's steps. "At the jail, it was only after you learned my name that you agreed to help. Since that's what I wanted I didn't press the matter. I'm not a simpleton Jack. You knew my father."
Ah…here it was. Jack had wondered if the lad would notice, but he didn't think he'd be facing this conversation so soon.
"Aye, I knew him." Jack stood up to look the young man in the face, a face set in an all too familiar scowl "Probably one of the few that knew him as William Turner. Everyone else just called him Bootstrap or Bootstrap-Bill."
"Bootstrap?" Will's eyes widened. But no, wait…hang on…wasn't that the name Peggy had mentioned before? But no, it couldn't be…she would have told him. Or would she?
"Good man, good pirate. I swear you look just like 'im." Jack hopped over to the helm and turned it a few more degrees to the port as the wind shifted behind them.
"That's not true." Will snapped, staring at the back of the pirate's head in horror. "He was a merchant sailor. A good respectable man who obeyed the law-"
"He was a bloody pirate! A scallywag!"
"My father was NOT a pirate."
Jack rolled his eyes irritably as he heard metal slide against leather. God, how stupid was this boy to draw a sword on him while he had full control of the ship?
"Put it away son." He sighed in exasperation. "It's not worth you getting beat again."
"You didn't beat me." Will snarled. "You ignored the rules of engagement. In a fair fight, I'd kill you."
"That's not much incentive for me to fight fair, is it?" Jack turned back to the lad. The fool. He thought he could kill the Jack Sparrow in a fair fight?
"What's going on?!"
Both men turned to see Peggy rushing towards them, brow furrowed in concern.
When she saw the drawn sword in Will's hand she stopped short.
"Whoa-whoa! What are you doing Will?!" she blinked as Will's eyes hardened dangerously at her.
"You knew this all along didn't you?"
"Will, what are you talking about?"
"Don't toy with me Peggy!" Will growled at her "You knew about my father!"
"What? Jack, what the hell have you been telling him?" She glared at Jack who shrugged irritably.
"Just the truth love."
"What truth?"
"You remember ol' Boostrap Bill?"
"Yeah, I remember Bootstrap. We were just talking about him down in the galley."
"So you did know about him!" William turned his sword and his snarl on Peggy who leapt back in alarm.
"William?!"
There was the rattle of wood as Jack quickly spun the helm wheel around, the boom behind Peggy's back swinging violently forward.
"Duck!" he called.
Peggy on instinct hit the deck on her stomach, clapping her hands over her head as she felt the whoosh of air above her.
Will was not so lucky.
The boom hit him square in the chest, as it swung out over the side and would have knocked him overboard had he not let go of his sword and clung onto it for dear life.
"Jack! What the hell are you doing?" Peggy shouted at him as she leapt to her feet.
"Teaching the whelp a lesson," Jack grunted as he picked up Will's fallen sword, pointing it at the lad as if he were a professor at a lecture.
"Now so long as you're just hanging there, pay attention." His voice was calm but there was a sharp edge to it that made Peggy shut her mouth to stop herself from interrupting "The only rules that really matter are these. What a man can do, and what a man can't do. For instance, you can accept your father and your friend here are both pirates and good people, or you can't. But pirate is in your blood boy so you'll have to square with that someday. Now me for example, I could let you drown," Will was able to spare Jack a startled look even as he continued gripping the boom for dear life much to Jack's derisive pleasure. "But I can't bring this ship into Tortuga all by me onesies, Savvy? So…"
Jack made to wheel the boom back in just in time for Will's burning arms to give way. He landed hard on his back; the wind almost completely knocked out of him yet again. However, he did not have much time to appreciate the solid ground beneath his head as the point of a sword, his sword found itself pointed at his chest by a very serious Jack Sparrow.
"Can you sail under the command of a pirate-" Jack flipped the sword so that the hilt now faced William "- or can you not?"
There was a pause as Will looked at the hilt of his sword, and the pirate that held the blade.
"Tortuga?" he asked.
"Tortuga." Jack grinned looking up from the lad. "Ain't that right Pe-Pegs?" he blinked.
Will followed his gaze but to his surprise, Peggy was no longer standing in her spot. She was storming off down the stairs, her copper hair flying behind her and her nostrils flared.
"Oy! Where are you going, lass?" Jack called after her.
Will felt his gut sink as she spared one last contemptuous look over her shoulder at the pair of them, and spat:
"I'm going to sleep! If either of you disturbs me or tries to play the bloody fool again I'll gut you like a fish."
And with that she stomped off into the captain's cabin, leaving both pirate and blacksmith staring in silence at the empty deck.
The room was dark and damp as a large hulking figure paced the floor.
One of his legs was booted, the other a pincer-shaped claw foot like a crab that struck against the damp wood beneath his feet with a distinctive piercing thud every time it made contact.
Behind him, a massive pipe organ half moulded into the walls lay dormant, the sound waves of the figures' footsteps resonating within each pipe and making them ring in his ears.
But he did not care.
His wrath was too great.
For ten bloody years, she had ignored his summons. Ten long years.
If she had died, he would have understood her not returning to his ship at his call. At least then all he had to do was drag her back from the shores of the dead to collect her soul.
But no.
He gave her an inch and she took it and ran back to the safety of the shore where he could not set foot for another few years. Not only was she on shore, but she had kept herself so far on the dry inland that neither he nor his ship could sense her presence and track her down.
Until now.
Something had made her return to his waters after all these long years.
The figure sucked in a deep breath as he unfurled his right hand where a tentacle coiled and uncoiled from the place a human index finger should have been.
No…she may have tried running, but she still had his mark on her that was certain. Try as hard as she might to run, she could never escape his mark.
He had made certain of that.
Her arm burned.
Rat-tat-tat
Her right arm burned like a fire had been lit under her skin.
Rat-tat-tat
A spiral of dark brown rings seared in her flesh even as she gripped it, hoping her tight hold would numb the pain.
Rat-tat-tat
But nothing she did could rid herself of the overwhelming dread that coursed through her veins.
After all these years of hiding, he finally knew where she was.
Rat-tat-tat
And he would come for her…she knew he would…
"Rise and shine Pegsy!"
Something prodded her shoulder.
Eyes flying open, Peggy sat up, her hand snatched at the scissors she had stowed under her pillow. She pulled it out of its sheath with such swiftness that the blade sang in the air, only to stop as a large warm human hand grabbed it deftly. Peggy's heart almost stilled in her chest in terror as the blade's tip stopped dangerously close to a dark bearded neck.
"J-Jack!" She gasped as she caught sight of twin beaded braids and a pair of kohl-smudged dark eyes staring down at her intensly.
With frantic eyes, she looked around herself. She was lying on a tiny cot with a thin mattress and pillow, tucked away with her back pressed against the large window. The room was so tiny and bare that it might as well have been a glorified cupboard.
On the edge of her bed by her waist Jack sat, one hand on her shoulder, the other holding her wrist away from slicing at his jugular. His expression was difficult to read as he examined her frightened face closely. It could have been concern; it could have been suspicion. However, Peggy would never be able to tell. The man was weirdly indecipherable even after all these years.
"Still havin' them nightmares huh? Even after all this time," he murmured as he gently pried the scissors from her grip.
"It's been a while since the last one. But I don't think they'll ever go away." Peggy shut her eyes, wiping a hand over her face as she sat up gingerly, hoping he could not make out how much she was trembling. "How far to Tortuga?"
"Already docked love. Just waiting on you to finish your beauty nap." He grunted as he clambered to his feet.
"Already? Why didn't you wake me earlier?" She frowned at him.
"I was going to, but I did not want to risk you following through on your promise. As you well know I am fond of my innards staying inside me where they belong," Jack smirked as he leaned against the doorframe "Besides, I needed to drill a few more lessons into that whelp boy's head before you could get in me way again."
"Oh because nearly tossing him overboard was not enough?" Peggy mumbled as she stretched her arms behind her head. Gods she really should not have slept with her stays on.
"Would not have needed to toss him overboard if he did not wave that sword around willy-nilly!" Jack rolled his eyes. "That stupid lad's temper is going to get us all in trouble."
"Not if one of your hair-brained schemes gets us in trouble first," Peggy grumbled as she swung her legs over the side and began tucking them back into her boots.
"Hairbrained?" Jack scoffed in mock outrage. "My schemes are brilliant"
"Yes, they are brilliant. Brilliantly crazy." Peggy shook her head as she hopped to her feet.
"Nothing wrong with a bit of crazy, love. A little bit of crazy keeps the world turning." Jack smirked, though it fell slightly as he watched her dust herself off and sheathed her sword at her hip.
Despite her attempts to carry on her face was pale and sweaty, and her eyes darted like a frightened mouse as her fingers fumbled in their simple task.
"Speaking of crazy, we should get a move on before that whelp of yours starts trying to hunt me down for disgracing your honour or whatever dishonourable bullshit he believes I do." He gestured to her to follow him, and Peggy acquiesced, though slower as she tried to resettle her shirt and tighten her belts.
"He's not my whelp."
"Right, and I'm a giant squid."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Peggy narrowed her eyes at Jack who shrugged as he led her into the captain's spacious and luxurious quarters.
"Oh please love, that lad's been fretting over you for the past two hours."
"You're exaggerating."
"No, I ain't. Seriously, he's been so annoying, I don't know what you see in him. If I didn't need the lad I would have tossed him long ago."
"And why do you need Will so badly? What does him being Bootstrap's son got to do with anything?" Peggy folded her arms as she watched her old captain totter over to spin a globe in the corner of the room.
"The same reason I need you so badly lass. I need a crew to take back my ship. Who better than my old cabin girl and ol' faithful Bootstrap's lad?"
He began to swagger to the door to leave but Peggy quickly caught him by the arm.
"Look here Captain," She hissed quietly as she got right up into his face. "Will might trust you to save Lizzy and play the hero but I know who you are. I know how you scheme. If whatever plot you're cooking in that rum-soaked brain of yours gets one hair on their heads harmed in any way I'll-wait…what are you doing?" she blinked in surprise at a pair of ringed hands that had suddenly manifested just above her chest holding the laces that kept the front of the shirt together. They had somehow come undone during her sleep, making the already deep neckline of the oversized garment expose even more of her under-corsetry than ever.
"Just a moment. There ya go!" Jack's tongue poked out between his teeth as he tied the front knot securely, bringing the two halves together so that she was mostly covered once more. "Go on love. What will you do to ol' Jackie if I hurt a hair on your precious William's head?"
Peggy took a wary step back from the pirate. Obeying his orders on the ship and bantering was one thing. But for him to think he had the right to fuss over her like he used to when she was small, after everything he did. How dare he pretend to care?!
"You hurt Will and I'll make Barbossa and his lot look like a bunch of baby pussy cats!"
"Now that would be a sight to see." Jack smiled, but Peggy could see it was only his mouth. His brown eyes watched her with that same curious expression she had seen in her cabin only a few moments ago.
"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" She asked nervously.
"Your hair…" he hummed reaching out to curl a coppery lock around his finger. "You need to do something about this hair of yours."
"What's wrong with my hair?" Peggy reached up to check her head. Yes, she did have bed hair but it was not so bad…was it?
"You need to cover it up, lass." Jack folded his arms and Peggy rolled her eyes.
"What? Cover it up? Wait this isn't because of that old wives tale is it?!"
"Aye!"
"Seriously? But you don't believe in any of that garbage!"
"No I do not, but other men do! How do you expect me to get a crew if they think my ship is cursed?!"
"You've got to be kidding me." Peggy facepalmed as the door to the captain's cabin opened and Will's head poked through anxiously.
"Is everything alright? Peg?" he frowned at the look of pure annoyance on his friend's face as she shoved moodily past him.
"Everything's fine. I just need another bloody hat!" she grumbled as she stomped below deck. "Ruddy pirates and their stupid superstitions!"
Tortuga the last free port in the Caribbean. A haven for debauchery, sin and inhibition. A place for pirates to hang their hats and relish in a good drink, fresh supplies and the body of a welcoming woman (provided you could pay for her affections).
"Duck!"
By all the sea gods this place has not changed one bit.
Peggy winced as several guns blasted above her head from the balcony of one of the inns nearest the pier. She ducked a shot narrowly missing the top of her head and blasting off the hat she had tried to use to cover her long fishtail braid.
She had forgotten how loud this place could be, or how much it stunk. It made even the poorest section of Port Royal look like Elysium. But she had to admit, there was an odd charm to all the chaos and hectic drama around them.
While hygiene may have been too lax for her tastes, at least everyone was free and unincumbered by some of the sillier rules of "civilised" society.
"Is that the Snapdragon next to the Painted Lady?" She pointed at the pier near the interceptor. Will squinted as he followed her finger to where two ships were docked side by side. One ship was green with white trimmings and dark blue sails, and the other had a red-painted hull with a black-painted deck and white sails.
"You know these ships?" He tilted his head.
"Only a few. Though it has been a while." Peggy murmured as she watched the crews of both ships pass one another by with a few respectful nods and civil acknowledgements. "Well, would you look at that? I thought Labelle and Clayton would never bury the hatchet."
"They didn't!" Jack called out over all the hubbub as they approached a nearby merchant's stall where several sashes and bolts of materials were being sold and traded along with a vast array of trinkets. Will was surprised to see many vendors along the pier still selling their wares despite the lateness of the hour.
"So, what happened then?" Peggy asked curiously.
"Clayton got too big for his breeches." Jack pulled her to stand before him, holding a bolt of purple cloth against her braided hair for comparison. "Tried attacking two ships at once and got himself blasted straight to the locker! O'Brian is captain now. Nope! Too dark." He tossed the purple cloth aside and picked up one that was red.
"O'Brian? That little titch? Really?" Peggy rolled her eyes.
"What are you doing? I thought we were looking for a crew." Will folded his arms irritably. Somewhere out there on the sea, Elizabeth was being held captive by bloodthirsty pirates and here they were shopping and gossiping about other ships?!
"And we will mate! But first things first, can't have a prospective crew running away at the sight of this one!" he jerked his thumb at Peggy who said:
"It's my hair, Will."
"Your hair?"
"It's the colour. Pirates think it's bad luck for a sailor to have red hair."
"That's just silly!" Will laughed incredulously.
"You're telling me" Peggy pouted as Jack held up an abhorred bright yellow scarf against her face. "Jack, can't you just pick one and be done with it?"
"Patience Pegsy. Patience. Can't have my cabin girl running around lookin' like shit, can I?" Jack mumbled distractedly, as he fumbled around the merchant's table, his smile brightening as he caught sight of something beneath an orange scarf. "Aha! Perfect."
He pulled out an ocean blue bandanna with a white wave print.
"Marvelous choice there mate!" the merchant behind the stall gave a toothy grin, revealing several gold teeth "That's part of a set that is, see 'ere." He pulled out a much larger waist sash from where Jack had fished the bandanna. It was made from the same material and had a metal buckle to fasten it shaped like a scallop shell.
Will examined the metalwork, admiring the surprisingly good craftsmanship as Jack paid for the items with money. Neither Will nor Peggy knew the origin of the coins nor were they going to ask. In a place like Tortuga, a little bit of theft seemed like the least of their worries.
"Now that's sorted, let's go ey! Lots to do, places to see." Jack grinned as Peggy finished tucking her hair beneath its new covering.
"Gods it is good to be back!" the pirate smiled as led Will and Peggy through a side alleyway and towards the centre of the disordered town, inhaling the rich array of cacophonic sounds and clashing odours around them. "More importantly, it is indeed a sad life that has never breathed deep the sweet, proliferous bouquet that is Tortuga. Savvy? What do you think?" he snatched a silver-headed cane off a drunk that stumbled across their path as they meandered past a group of men drenched in liquor from head to toe as they guzzled even more drink from a cup in each hand.
"It'll linger," Will replied diplomatically as another drunk pirate stumbled past them, licking his lips ravenously as his gaze wandered from Peggy's face down to her rear.
Will pulled her closer to him, lacing his fingers with hers before she could protest.
Despite wearing men's clothes and covering her hair, many men who passed their little group were eying her hungrily like wolves around a lamb for slaughter.
"I'll tell you mate, if every town in the world were like this one" Jack smiled, seemingly unaware of his companion's discomfort. "No man would ever feel unwanted."
"Speaking of wanted men- ahem!" Peggy gulped as a woman with dark red hair and a dark red dress exited from a nearby doorway. Her face was pale and her painted lips were pursed in a thin angry line as she stormed right up to Jack who smiled upon seeing her face, not noticing a long-nailed hand rearing back and ready to strike.
"Scarlet!"
Kathwack!
Will and Peggy winced as Jack's face was slapped with such force he almost spun back around to face them.
"Nice hit," Will smirked to Peggy as the woman angrily stalked away with her nose in the air.
"Not sure I deserved that," Jack mumbled rubbing his cheek as he straightened up only to find another painted woman standing in front of him in a pale green dress and messy blonde hair.
"Giselle." Jack smiled admiringly at the pretty blonde, but she was having none of his charm.
"Who was she?"
"What?"
Again, another slap, this one just as powerful as the last if not slightly more for it almost made the pirate stumble back a little much to his younger companion's amusement.
"I may have deserved that." He admitted rubbing his cheek as Peggy smirked.
"If you'd like I can slap you once more. Make it an even three." She giggled as Jack glowered at her and gently cuffed her on the top of the head.
"Cheeky brat! Come on. This way." He pointed across the street where a large ramshackle tavern stood brightly lit, filled with music and shouting. A wooden sign above the door read, "The Faithful Bride" beneath a carving of a smiling bride holding a bouquet in her manacled hands.
To Will's great surprise, Peggy smiled fondly up at the establishment. It was the first time he had seen her look so calm and content since they set out from Port Royal.
"You seem happy to be here," he muttered as they passed under the sign and past the front door.
"I am…sort of." she coughed doing her best to settle her face into a more neutral expression as she addressed Jack. "Are old Bobby and Maeve still running the place?"
"Aye, they are." Jack nodded as he led them around the back of the tavern towards a filthy stye. "Getting' on in years of course but that Maeve is still a battleaxe."
"Only with you," Peggy smirked as Jack pointed to a few large buckets nearby filled with water.
"Quick fetch those and follow me."
Will and Peggy followed his lead, each taking a bucket and following Jack to one of the pens where two pigs and a man lay in the muck.
Peggy and Will had to swallow down hard on the bile that threatened to rise in their throats. Somehow this pen had managed to be smellier than the street outside and that was saying something.
The man was middle-aged, with short grey hair, long sideburns and a short beard. He wore a British navy sailor's uniform not unlike the one Peggy wore, but his clothes were old and stained from years of rough living and mud from the pen. He was fast asleep and snoring almost as loudly as the pigs and barely heard them approach or Jack's order for Peggy to tip the contents of her bucket over him.
SPLASH!
"GHA!" The man cried out as the cold clean water hit him square in the face, waking him up with a jolt "Curse you for breathing you slack-jawed idiot!" he roared in fury and Peggy leapt back, hands raised in surrender as Will stepped in front of her defensively.
But they needn't have worried, for the man's anger melted away at the sight of Jack standing above him.
"Mother's love! Jack!" he grinned in relief and leaned back against the snorting pig he had been using as a pillow. "You should know better than to wake a man when he's sleepin'. It's bad luck."
"Ah! Fortunately, I know how to counter it." Jack grinned down at his old friend as he knelt by his side "The man who did the waking buys the man that was sleeping a drink. And the man that was sleeping drinks it while listening to a proposition from the man that did the waking."
It took a second for the man on the floor to compute what Jack was saying, but when he did, his smile only grew wider.
"Aye, that'll about do it!" He took Jack's proffered hand and let himself be tugged back up to standing, only to choke and splutter as Will tossed his bucket of water all over him, soaking him right down to the bone.
"BLAST! I'm already awake!" he shouted.
"That was for the smell," Will explained with a small shrug.
There was a pause as the drenched man looked at Jack who nodded in agreement to Will's earlier statement.
"Eh…I suppose that's fair." The man's shoulders sagged as he wiped some wet hair from his face. "Apologies. The name's Joshamee Gibbs." He held out a friendly hand to Will who shook it firmly.
"William Turner."
"And you lad-lass?" Gibbs frowned in confusion as he caught sight of Peggy's distinctly feminine face.
"Peggy, Peggy Blake. A pleasure to make your acquaintance Mister Gibbs" Peggy shook the shocked man's hand.
"Blake, Blake…hey ain't that the name of your old Cabin Girl Jack?" Gibbs frowned at Jack who grinned and clapped him on a wet shoulder.
"The very same mate. Come let's get those drinks ey! I'll explain everything inside."
The Faithful Bride was a lively place, Will thought as Gibbs and Jack led the way inside the tavern.
A small band of musicians played shanties in a corner while several drunk sailors swayed and sang along to the tune, more than half slurring the wrong words and laughing. Various small scuffles and punch-ups were popping up all over the floor between men and even some women. Wenches of all shapes and sizes sat on the laps of paying johns exchanging their affections for coin and whispering sweet nothings in their patron's ears. A few tables tucked away behind some beams were relatively peaceful, their occupants quietly talking and joking amongst themselves as they took hearty swigs from tankards of ale or rum.
It was towards one of these back tables that Gibbs and Jack swaggered over to sit at, the latter shaking his head at Will to stop him and Peggy from joining them.
"Keep a sharp eye. And don't let this one out of your sight." the pirate added with a jerk of his head to Peggy who groaned in annoyance but stayed put by Will's side.
"Every bloody time. I can look after myself." She muttered mutinously as she and Will leaned back against a nearby wooden pillar together.
"He's just trying to keep you safe." Will grunted as he sidled over so that their sides touched, glaring at a man who was trying to leer at Peggy from over his tankard "And for once I agree wholeheartedly with him."
"I know. Neptune's soggy beard!" Peggy hissed, her leg pulling back sharp as two brawling men almost fell on top of her boot.
Will quickly grabbed her by the waist and pulled around to the side of the beam to avoid the scuffling pirates, who continued their fight without noticing their presence. According to the snippets of swear words and curses being flung between the two opponents between blows, they were either fighting over a prostitute or a mule.
"Thanks," Peggy muttered as she tried to step away, but Will wrapped his arms around her middle and held her tight against him. They were hardly the only man and woman in the tavern in such proximity, but still, Peggy could not help but flush a little at the feel of her friend's firm body plastered so close against her back "Will-"
"Shh." He put a finger to his lips and jerked his head at Jack and Gibbs who had settled at a small table and were leaning over a pair of tankards conspiratorially.
It was hard to hear what they were saying, but Peggy could read their lips in the light of the candles on the table.
"Jack, it's a fool's errand!" Gibbs hissed concernedly "You know better than me the tales of the Black Pearl."
"That's why I know what Barbossa is up to. All I need is a crew."
"What I hear tell of Captain Barbossa, he's not a man to suffer fools, nor strike a bargain with one."
"Well, I'd say it's a good thing I'm not a fool then?"
Peggy and Will exchanged confused glances. For all his bumbling about earlier, Jack seemed confident in his idea despite Gibbs' contrary attitude.
"Prove me wrong." The older sailor scoffed. "What makes you think Barbossa will give up his ship to you?"
"Let's just say it's a matter of leverage eh?" Jack smirked like the cat that ate the canary as he turned to look over at the pillar where Peggy and Will quickly looked away, pretending not to have been eavesdropping.
"Will!" Peggy gasped as she felt Will's grip around her waist tighten in suspense as Jack tried pointing them out to Gibbs who squinted at them in confusion.
"The girl? Didn't Barbossa try to kill her?" the old sailor muttered.
"No-no mate not her." Jack nodded once more, directing his gaze towards the young blacksmith who oh-so-casually leaned back against the beam behind him, holding Peggy so close she was beginning to struggle for breath.
"The kid?" Gibbs's brow furrowed deeper, and Jack's grin widened.
"That is the child of Bootstrap Bill Turner. His only child. Savvy?"
"Is he now?" Gibbs's eyebrows rose very high as a smile spread over his face. "Leverage says you. I think I feel a change in the wind says I. I'll find us a crew! There's bound to be some sailors on this rock as crazy as you!"
"One can only hope." Jack raised his tankard in a toast. "Take what you can!"
"Give nothing back!" Gibbs finished and they clanged their mugs together merrily and took a hearty swig.
"Will! Will! Too tight."
"Sorry Peg," Will muttered, loosening his grip but not letting her go from her spot even as she tried to escape again. It seemed from the way Jack and Gibbs were now leaning back and chuckling that their serious business was over. But Will still could not be sure…
"Come on. You're not going to keep me prisoner here all night are you?" Peggy wheezed as she tried and failed to pry Will's arms from their loop around her waist.
Damn, blacksmiths and their strong hands. She thought.
"If it keeps you safe from all these degenerates staring at you then yes. I am." Will muttered mulishly as he leaned to rest his chin atop her head. "This place is so different from home."
"You think this is rowdy you should see the Twelve Daggers across the street." Peggy snorted as she gave up struggling and leaned back into his grip. In Port Royal, it was not considered appropriate for a man and woman not related by blood to be so openly caring towards one another unless they were romantically involved. Of course, she and Will were not shy about being affectionate towards one another in the privacy of their own home. Blood-related or not, they were family, and they shared a bond they were not ashamed of. However, ever since he came of age Will had become so keen to follow protocol and appear respectable in public so as not to embarrass Peggy or ruin her prospects.
Perhaps being in such a lawless place like Tortuga he did not feel so pressured to be as prim and proper. Or perhaps he was so overwhelmed by their situation that he yearned for a familiar comfort.
Peggy felt like it was the latter, for she could feel his heart hammering in his chest and his jaw grinding side-to-side above her as it often did when he was nervous.
She could not blame him. That conversation between Jack and Gibbs had set her teeth on edge too. She knew Jack had plans for Will, but why was the son of Bootstrap Bill Turner so important to someone like Hector Barbossa? Did it have something to do with that accursed treasure?
Peggy shivered as she remembered Koehler's arm under the bright moonlight, all rotten and bony like a corpse from a shipwreck.
The curse of Cortez's gold…who would have thought it would be so gruesome. She would have to re-read Percival Stafford's account of the curse when they returned to the ship.
"We'll find her Will." She squeezed both his hands in hers reassuringly "We'll find Lizzy and we'll get her back safe and sound. Whatever Jack's plans for you are."
"I hope so." He murmured into her head, his voice bitter and tired. "So…You knew my father?"
"It appears so." Peggy craned her head back to look up at him. "But believe me when I said that I didn't know Bootstrap's real name."
"But how could you sail with a man for years and not uncover his name?" Will frowned down at her and she shrugged.
"Many pirates often go by nicknames rather than their birth names. It's a good way to keep the Navy, the EITC or even other rival pirates from tracking their whereabouts or hunting down their families…"
She trailed off as Will's grip tightened slightly, bracing herself for the vice hold. But it never came. It just stayed firm as his eyes glazed over in sad contemplation.
"You're saying he was trying to protect me and my mother?"
"I don't know, but it's possible." Peggy smoothed a thumb over the back of his hand. "Bootstrap never told me your names but spoke of the two of you often, even read some of your mother's letters to me."
"I wonder what he'd think of us living together and being friends"
"He'd probably be over the moon." Peggy snorted "He always kept on harping on about you. I won't lie, I was a little jealous of how proud he was of you."
"God after all this time…I spent so long searching for my father after my mother died. And you were right there under my roof and could have told me where he was." Will sighed, gulping down on the small lump in his throat.
Peggy turned around in his grip to face him, her hands grasping his firmly and securely.
"Trust me, Will. If I had known Bootstrap was your father I would have told you about him. Truly, I would have."
"Would you have told me about his being a pirate?" Will narrowed his eyes down at her.
"Yes." She answered instantly. "Yes, I would. He's your father. Your only blood family. Whatever my past you deserved to know the truth about him."
"Even if it meant revealing your truth?" He asked softly. "You've hidden so much from me already…Is Peggy Blake even your real name?"
"Well… Yes. Sort of. It's complicated." Peggy mumbled folding her arms as she took her spot beside him once more. "My full name on paper is Margaret Delphine Blake. It's not the name I was born with, but it was the name I chose. Even if it wasn't who I was in the past, it is who I am now. It is real and it is who I am. If that makes sense?"
"I guess." Will shifted and folded his arms to match her stance. "So, what was your birth name? If you don't mind me asking?"
"I…I don't know."
Will blinked at her astonished. Her face was turned down to the floor, and her eyes were clouded with the sombreness he had been accustomed to seeing since the attack on Port Royal.
"When I first fell from my father's ship, I…I hit my head on the hull." Peggy reached up to trace a curve just above her hairline. "I don't remember much of what happened before that. My father was a merchant and I remember the sound of his voice, but I don't remember his face. I know my mother is dead, but I don't remember how it happened. I don't remember my stepmother but I know I hated her and she despised me. I know how to read, write, and do basic arithmetic, but I cannot remember who taught me. It's all just so…fragmented."
"And you never searched for answers?" Will frowned in confusion. If he had lost his memories, he would have searched all seven seas for the answers.
Peggy shook her head sadly. "No. I mean sort of…" She ran a hand over her head, accidentally pushing off her bandanna wrap and uncovering her copper-coloured braid. "Sometimes I'll smell or hear something somewhere and something small will come back to me. Remember when you first took me to church, and I could follow along to the hymns even though I said I didn't know any?"
"I remember." Will nodded, remembering the day clearly and how surprised he was when he heard her little voice singing sweetly beside him. "I thought you were being modest."
Peggy chuckled, shaking her head sadly.
"No, no. I really did not think I knew the hymns till I heard you singing them beside me. And then it all just clicked."
"But you still aren't curious to know where you come from? Wouldn't you like to know the whole story?" Will persisted doggedly "What if your family is out there looking for you? What if your father-"
"I know he isn't." Peggy cut across Will sharply. "I may not remember much about my life Will but I have a rough picture of what it must have been like, and I don't think I was very happy. Not like when I am at home with you or when I was-" She stopped and coughed, but Will spotted the pain in her eyes even as she shook herself off. "Forgive me. The smell in here."
"It is rather rank isn't it?" Will agreed solemnly.
There was a silence as Peggy gazed out at the tavern around them. The chaos had not stopped while they'd been talking, indeed some of the fights had only gotten rowdier and the flirtations with wenches had only gotten raunchier. The musicians were now ducking to avoid rum bottles and tankards from getting thrown in their direction as the now completely inebriated patrons jeered at them loudly for more songs.
Will meanwhile was staring at her face his eyes travelling up to her bandanna-covered head. She was telling the truth there was no doubt about that, for he had seen the scar on her scalp before. She had only been living with him for a year and a half and Mister Brown's profligacy had gotten out of hand. He had offered Peggy's bright copper-coloured curls to the local wigmaker in exchange for paying off his gambling debt. Poor Peggy had been humiliated to tears when Will had first seen the awful scar. It was a gnarly curved mark, ugly and distinctive against her pale scalp.
The thought her life would have been even more miserable before that incident was nothing short of disturbing. The idea that life as a pirate was preferable to life with her father was even more concerning. Just how despicable could someone be to be that hated by their own child?
"So…" he reached and traced his fingers along a stray curl that had escaped from her head wrap, tucking the lock behind her ear gently. "Delphine?"
"It means Dolphin in French" Peggy's ears flushed a deep pink. "I always liked the way it sounded. As for Peggy-"
"It's short for Margaret?" Will nodded in understanding. "And Blake?"
"I don't know. It just felt right." She shrugged.
"Margaret Delphine Blake." Will smiled softly. "Sounds rather nice."
"Eugh! Don't call me Margaret." Peggy choked and Will chuckled.
"And why not?"
"Because it sounds weird. I don't like it."
"Why?"
"I just don't. Makes my skin crawl whenever someone calls me that."
"Then why is it your name."
"It wasn't. That damned priest put it on my certificate of baptism when I settled in Port Royal. Apparently, Peggy was not a respectable enough name on its own." She shivered, elbowing Will in the side as he let loose a slightly louder laugh at her childish pout. "Seriously Will, I hate it. I mean if someone else is called Margaret then good that's what suits them. I'm happy being just Peggy."
"Or Pegsy?" Will chortled and she chuckled.
"Mmn, I have no idea where Jack came up with that one. He might have been drunk."
"You mean he's not…" Will trailed off with a pointed glance at Jack who had a very attractive raven-haired beauty in a very low-cut dark green dress perched on his lap while Gibbs drained the last of his drink and scuttled away.
"Nah he's not drunk yet. Trust me when he is drunk you'll notice. Ugh ye gods, I'm not going to get any peace when we go to bed am I?" Peggy grunted in disgust as they noticed Jack's hand slip up the lady's skirt as she nibbled on his ear. "One downside of being the captain's cabin boy. You hear everything the captain is doing in his bed."
"You poor thing." Will patted her shoulder as the two of them burst into giggles, the sound of which caught Jack's attention.
The pirate stood up, wench still plastered to his side like a barnacle as he swaggered over to his cabin girl and the blacksmith swaying slightly as he often did.
"I see you two are enjoying yourselves. Though how you're achieving that without any rum in either of you is beyond me."
"It's a gift." Peggy chuckled not missing the way Jack's lady friend assessed Will's handsome boyish face and strapping form like a wolf would look at raw meat. "I see you've found some new company?"
"And a place to sleep. Lovely Gabrielle 'ere has very kindly offered to share her nice warm bed with me. Ain't that right dearie?"
"Hmm. O-oh yes haha!" Gabrielle tittered as she tore her batting eyelashes back onto Jack's tipsy grin. "Though I am sure I can manage one more in my room in a pinch." She added with a small wink to a very bewildered and blushing Will.
"T-thank you for the uh-kind offer miss but I already have lodgings for tonight with my friend here," he muttered, cheeks burning as he felt the other beautiful woman's hungry eyes roving all over his body. While the attention of such a beautiful woman was flattering, he already had a lady he loved. What kind of man would he be if he dumped his morals for a meaningless fling halfway through his mission to save her?
Jack quickly snagged an ale from a bartender that was not his, not knowing whether to roll his eyes or laugh as the whelp carefully sidled behind Peggy, looping an arm around her waist again trying to look possessive and casual like a lover should and failing miserably.
"Oh forgive me. I did not see you there. I thought you were one of the men in those breeches" Gabrielle looked Peggy up and down critically, and though she smiled, her eyes were calculating and irate.
Peggy almost felt sorry for the woman. Poor Gabrielle had not been expecting any competition for her business tonight and was peeved to have lost the chance with a handsome fresh-faced youth, a rarity in this dismal establishment.
But that was where Peggy's pity ended. Will was too ill-equipped to handle this situation and Jack was enjoying the drama too much to bother helping him, leaving her to clean up the mess as usual.
Well, if it's a show he wants, he'll get it. She smirked viciously as, to Jack and Will's great surprise, she reached up and unlaced the front of her shirt exposing her corsetry underneath.
The effect was instant. Both men's eyes were drawn like magnets to the suddenly exposed cleavage in shock. Gabrielle's expression soured in defeat as Peggy reached out to trail a lone finger slowly down the open front of Will's shirt and purred:
"That's alright. An honest mistake. You can blame my sweet William here; he lo~ves it when I wear his clothes."
Will's cheeks flushed beet red, and Jack almost spat out his drink.
No…No…this was too bizarre. This was not how it was supposed to be. Peggy was his cabin girl. She was the little smart-arse, short-fused chit who used to trail after him like a lost puppy with her two pigtails bouncing behind her. She was NOT a sensual fiery-haired siren who seduced whelps in taverns. Nope, Jack did not like this. No-ugh-no-no-no! He could deal with anything but this on a sober mind.
The little brat. She's enjoying watching me suffer like this. He scowled, draining his ale in three large gulps as she smugly leaned back into her sweet William's arms. The poor bewildered lad was struggling not to stare down his friend's cleavage over her shoulder as he held her in front of him like a human shield before Gabrielle's seething form.
"Aye, he does." Jack intervened before his paid wench could open her mouth again "Darling Pegsy does very well catering to sweet William's every need no matter how big or small. So much so that she cruelly neglects my own." The pirate sighed oh-so-dramatically "Now you see my dear, how much I am neglected upon my ship?"
"Oh, you poor man." The prostitute simpered, eyes solely fixed on Jack, but it was clear to anyone sober who listened that the words were more like a rehearsed script "All those weeks at sea and no one to look after you. And after all the great things you do for them too."
"Yes, exactly what I've been saying love," Jack exclaimed in great relief. "I knew you'd understand you lovely, clever thing. You're so understanding and caring."
"Well, for what it's worth I am glad to see you are in good hands, Captain. We'll meet you back on the ship in the morning then?" Peggy smirked, pleased that the standoff was over. She could feel the stares of many men on her exposed chest and it was making her skin crawl something fierce.
"Aye, lass! You shall. And don't you two stay up too late hammering away at one another. I need you both up bright and early to meet Gibbs and the crew, savvy?" Jack waved them off with a dirty look before wrapping an arm around his female companion and swaying off with her towards a nearby set of stairs.
As soon as they were a safe distance away, Peggy and Will turned to look at one another and burst out laughing.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Will! Hahahaha!" Peggy almost doubled over.
"Don't be. That was brilliant. The look on his face-" Will pulled her up to almost choke on her shoulder.
"Like he'd throw up seawater!" Peggy finished, wiping at her eyes as she reached down to retie the front of her shirt closed. "Ye gods serves him right. All those nights I had to listen to him hammer away at his women through the bloody wall! He can deal with me showing off some skin."
"Speaking of beds, we should head back to the ship soon." Will chuckled as he took her hand to pull her into a quick duck as a bottle flew for their heads.
"Aye, we should. I don't think I have much strength left to defend your honour from another woman, Sweet William." Peggy grunted as she led them speedily back to the pig pens outside. "Would you like me to stay close to you tonight? For your protection?" She asked playfully.
"Where would we go? I don't trust the inns here. We might get knifed in our sleep." Will quirked a brow as he gathered her arm in his as they had so often done when taking a stroll back home together after church.
"The ship should do fine for tonight I think." Peggy nudged him with her elbow. "Jack will spend the night in lovely Gabrielle's bed so he won't be using the captain's quarters. And I'll be in my nook with the door open in case."
"Sounds perfect." Will nodded approvingly, glad he would have at least one night's rest in an actual bed.
They fell into companionable silence as they walked arm in arm out the back of the Faithful Bride and into the street. Though still busy, it was a lot quieter than before. Many pirates were now indoors seeking refreshments, beds or other people's beds for the night.
As they strolled back down to the pier, Peggy sighed and looked at the sky above.
It was inky black and dotted with twinkling stars. She could spot the constellations Draco and Ursa Major and Minor in the north to the northwest.
Then there was the moon.
It was waning but still rather large and luminous. Its pale light shone and shimmered on the muddy grounds and the dilapidated rooftops of the pirate town, making it look almost ghostly.
Peggy shivered and drew closer to Will's side.
"Peg?"
"I'm fine. Just cold." She mumbled though she did not turn her face to the sky again.
Somewhere, out there, cursed pirates sailed dark waters with a captive young woman.
But worse than that, somewhere out there, the devil was waiting for her with open arms.
Notes:
There it is, chapter 5 up and running.
A little bit more information about Peggy and her backstory as Jack's old cabin girl. I figured she would have known Bootstrap as a person but not know his real name because people only ever used his nickname around her. As for her amnesia, she doesn't have a complete blank on her past but she does have bits and pieces collected over time. Will she have the full picture eventually? Who knows. Will it all come magically back to her? Again who knows? I'm just going along with the flow of what I write for the moment.
Hope you all enjoyed and please keep reading, reviewing and faving if you want more.
Thanks,
FuzzyBeta
Chapter 6: A New Arrangement
Summary:
"Ye best start believing in ghost stories, yer in one!"
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
"A redhead Jack?! A redhead!"
"Oh come now mate don't tell me you of all people subscribe to that ol' wives tale?"
This is just ridiculous. It's only hair.
William scowled, folding his arms as Joshamee Gibbs stared between Peggy and Captain Jack Sparrow with an aghast expression befitting a scandalised sheep.
He was not the only one. A line of men assembled along the pier where the Interceptor had been docked looked at the cabin girl's copper-coloured braid with wide-eyed disquiet, some shifting on their feet as she looked each one over.
Even though Peggy had taken some time to explain the bizarre meaning behind the superstition over an early breakfast, William still did not understand how a somewhat decent man like Gibbs could be so gullible to believe such nonsense.
"It's one thing to bring a woman aboard," Gibbs whispered as he tried to calm his nerves down to a respectable level. "But can ye afford to tempt fate like this with so much on the line? No offence to you lass." He added with a small nod towards Peggy.
"I believe it's worth the risk." Jack muttered absentmindedly as he looked the rest of his crew up and down with a critical eye "If I remember correctly, the best way to counter such misfortune under such dire circumstances as this is to speak to said redhead first before boarding and through that interaction mitigate any bad luck before we set off ey savvy?"
"Well yes." Gibbs sighed in defeat. "But still the crew…"
"I assure you Mister Gibbs, Pegsy 'ere will stay outta their hair. Won't you love?" Jack looked at Peggy, who rolled her eyes and nodded silently, per Jack's earlier instructions.
"Perfect!" Jack grinned steering his cabin girl to stand right by the boarding plank that led up onto the ship. "Now, Pegs, why don't you stand there while I inspect the rest of the crew? William, you come with me!"
Will shot Peggy an apologetic look only to receive a shrug in return.
It surprised him that she could be so calm about the disrespectful suspicious glowers shot her way by the pirates. It was not her fault she was born with red hair. If these men respected Jack enough to follow him, they should have had enough to pass on to someone he trusted.
However, despite his annoyance, William kept his mouth shut as he followed Jack to inspect the Interceptor's new crew.
They were nothing like the clean and respectable officers of Port Royal. All were rough, scruffy and unkempt like many of the locals of Tortuga. Many were older gentlemen around Gibbs's age though there were a few unique characters among them.
Marty, one of the shortest men Will had ever met, had a bald head, a thin braided beard, and the sharpest pair of blue eyes that he had ever seen. It put the young blacksmith in mind of a keen bird of prey. Despite his short stature, Will had no trouble believing the man would be a vicious opponent in a fight.
Another man, an elderly fellow called Cotton, was mute, his tongue having been carved out nastily with what appeared to have been a blunt knife. The poor man could only communicate through signing with his weathered fingers or via his talking blue and gold macaw, who only spoke in odd phrases he had picked up from a life at sea.
Then at the end of the line of crew was Annamaria, a woman with skin the colour of dark walnut, fierce brown eyes and long black hair. She had slapped Jack not once but twice, earning herself an approving grin from Peggy at the head of the line. Her ire was certainly justified in Will's opinion, for Jack had stolen her boat on his journey to Port Royal. Not only had he stolen the vessel, but also he had sunk it upon arrival making the debt even more grievous.
It was only at Will's intervention and offering to give the Interceptor as compensation to her and the crew that she was willing to settle the score. It was a good offer that Jack had quickly agreed to, though it was a blow to his pride.
Gibbs had seen rather put out by the presence of another woman aboard the Interceptor.
"No-no-no-no! It's frightful bad luck to bring another woman aboard sir. Especially since we already have one with…well…" The older sailor cringed but Jack's eyes were already turned towards the windy blue skies above.
"It'd be far worse not to have her." the captain muttered turning to watch the new crew as they dashed towards their ship.
Will followed his gaze and was surprised by the sight of every new crew member, lined up before Peggy and greeting her with the utmost respect as if she were a lady of noble status like Elizabeth. The men most terrified of her presence even gave her a slight bow, using their lowered heads as an excuse not to look her in the eye.
The only ones who were not afraid of her were Cotton and Annamaria. Cotton's parrot, named Paulie, croaked out a small "Ahoy there!" to Peggy who smiled and responded in kind before holding out her knuckle slowly. She waited a pause for the bird to gently rub its beak against her knuckle in a friendly manner, before smiling warmly and welcomingly at Cotton. The older man nodded respectfully and gave a guttural grunt and an encouraging smile. Only then did she speak and say hello.
Annamaria's greeting was curt and businesslike as she gave Peggy a wary once-over with her eyes. Annamaria did not believe in the superstitious nonsense like the rest of the crew. However, seeing that Peggy was closely associated with a man like Jack Sparrow it stood to reason many of them would be suspicious of her true motives for being put in such an important position like the captain's cabin boy.
"That went better than I expected," Peggy mumbled to Will as they watched Gibbs and Jack step aboard the ship, both men already discussing their next steps.
"I just hope they're up to snuff," Will muttered picking up a nearby crate of rum to carry up onto the ship. "Half of these men look like they've seen too many winters."
"I'd much rather a sailor have too many winters than too few." Peggy snorted as she picked up a goat gently in her arms. "Any man who can last till their age in this profession has to have some grit. Come on, let's get a move on. There's a storm coming soon. We're going to need to make sure everything is secure."
"A storm? But the skies are so clear." Will frowned, looking up at the skies above. They were as blue as a forget-me-not and very few clouds blotting out the sun. If anything, he was more worried about sunstroke than rain.
"They won't be by tonight," Peggy smirked, "you mark my words."
William's brow furrowed even more as he followed Peggy up the plank and onto the deck.
"How do you know there will be a storm?
"The sunrise," Peggy grunted as she tried resettling the goat in her arms as it squirmed. "It was red."
"And?"
"Haven't you ever heard the saying?" she quirked her brow "Red sky at night, sailor's delight. Red sky in the morning, sailor's warning."
"I thought that was just another superstition?" Will rolled his eyes as he followed a now very amused Peggy down below the deck
"No, that one's a fact. It's a real natural phenomenon. Ain't that right men?" she called out to some men checking over the cannons and their artillery.
"Ey? What was that lass?"
"The sunrise today. Reckon we're going to have some rough waters tonight." Peggy called and all the men nodded grimly.
"Oh aye, with a sun that red, it will be real gnarly." Marty quirked a brow at her from where he was checking some gunpowder.
"Told you." She smirked at Will who shook his head and chuckled in disbelief.
"I'll believe it when I see it."
Peggy raised her eyebrows, her smirk growing and her eyes sparkling with mirth.
"Don't say I didn't warn you."
SPLASH!
CRASH!
KaaBbbbboOOOOM!
"I hate it when she's right," Will muttered darkly to himself, shaking his wet hair out of his eyes only to wince as salty water crashed into his face with the force of a slap.
Despite his scepticism in his companion's ability to foretell the weather, William Turner had been proven oh-so-very wrong. While the morning and early afternoon had been relatively smooth and unhindered, the evening had only descended into absolute chaos.
Large clouds had gathered ominously all over the sky, darkening the skies so much there was barely any light save for the sporadic flashes of white lightning. Waves that were once gentle and shallow had become choppy and almost as tall as the deck itself. Many times, Will found himself swept off his feet by a wave splashing on top of him, pushing him painfully into the railings.
If not for Will's tight grip on the rigging he may have fallen overboard long ago. He was not the only one struggling to stay on his feet. Most of their motley crew were hanging on for dear life as heavy sheets of rain fell from on high, soaking each one to the bone and drenching the already slippery deck.
The only man who seemed to have any semblance of calm was Jack, who was manning the helm. One of the pirate's hands was firmly on the wheel and the other gripping the battered black compass tight as he tried to read it amidst the brief flashes of lightning.
How Jack could steer them towards anything with that broken device, Will could not guess. He could only hope that they were not being led astray.
The blacksmith winced as the ship rocked heavily to the port side and his body collided heavily with someone else beside him.
It was Peggy, drenched to the bone so that her clothes clung to her body and her red braid plastered to her back. She held onto a rope connected to one of the sails for dear life, swearing as foul as any other sailor would as she stumbled around trying to find her footing. For someone who normally had no trouble staying steady, her feet were betraying her in this weather.
What is she doing up here?! Jack told her to wait below with Annamaria.
Will's eyes widened as he then realised it was not just any rope she was holding onto, but the sail rope that held Marty. The smaller sailor had been up on the mast trying to keep the sails in place when he had gotten blown off by a massive wave and gust of wind combined.
"I got him! Help Gibbs!" Peggy shouted as Will tried to come to her aid.
Will barely had time to argue as another wave washed up upon the deck, bowling him over right into Gibbs's side. The two of them spluttered and gasped as they were washed across the deck and smashed into the side. To Peggy's credit, the wave barely bowled her over for she had braced herself against the back of the mast, her tight grip on the sheet allowing Marty to clamber back on the rigging.
"THANKS LASS!" He called and Peggy nodded, only to cough and choke as more icy water sprayed on her from above.
Gibbs and Will meanwhile rushed back to the other side of the ship to rebind some rigging that had come loose from the impact of the smashing water.
"HOW CAN WE SAIL TO AN ISLAND THAT NOBODY CAN FIND, WITH A COMPASS THAT DOESN'T WORK?!" Will shouted at Gibbs as they hauled on their sheet with all their might.
"Aye, the compass doesn't point North!" Gibbs agreed, and to Will's surprise, there was a hint of a smirk on the older sailor's face. "But we're not trying to find North are we?"
"Then what in blazes are we looking for?!" Will asked only to get splashed hard by another harsh wave.
He had not felt such a chill to his bones since he had first been shipwrecked all those years ago. God that seemed like a lifetime ago.
The lightning flashed above once again illuminating the deck allowing Will to see a familiar head of red hair dashing up the steps towards the helm.
"JACK!" Peggy cried as she clung to the railing to stop herself from tripping as a wave buffeted the ship to keel over dangerously to the port side.
"I told ye to stay below deck!" Jack shouted at her, his eyes flashing angrily. God that whelp was a bad influence on her, now she was directly disobeying a captain's orders.
"We're taking on water below!" Peggy shouted back, yelping as another rock from the ship almost sent her tumbling right into Jack.
"How much water?!" Jack wrapped the arm with his compass around her to pull her into his side while the other gripped the wheel and took half their weight.
"Enough to start losing supplies!"
"Even the rum?"
"Even the rum-GAH!" She gasped grabbing onto the older pirate's vest for support as her feet slipped beneath her. "How long do we have till we're outta here?" she glanced at the compass still clutched in Jack's hand.
"Not long lass!" Jack shouted, nodding to the needle which was staying steady despite the constant rocking of the boat.
"I'll never figure out how that thing works!" Peggy sighed as she pushed herself away from Jack's side so he could free both hands for steering.
"We should drop canvas, sir!" Gibbs shouted as he stumbled up the stairs towards them, Will behind him hauling on different ropes and re-tightening them.
"She can hold a bit longer!" Jack called back as he gave a firm spin of the wheel to right their course, to Peggy's great surprise he was grinning like a maniac.
Even Gibbs was mightily disturbed by the expression as he yelled:
"What's in yer head that's put you in such a fine mood, captain?"
"We're catching up!" Jack's grin turned into a victorious sneer, that faded as the ship's bow accidentally crashed headlong into another wave. The impact was jarring. The entire hull bounced harshly up for one heart-stopping sickening second before dropping harshly back into the ocean like a ball on concrete.
Many men stumbled and fell on their feet.
Peggy shrieked as she was thrown up a few feet before crashing into the railing!
"PEG!" she heard a voice shout as she tumbled over the side. By some miracle, she had managed to grab a rope before she could topple into the churning seas below and clung to it hard. She cried out in pain as she slammed hard into the side of the ship with a thud, the bullet graze she had received during the pirate attack at Port Royal bearing most of the impact of the hit. Still, she clung on.
"Man overboard!" She heard Gibbs shout, but already she was doing her best to clamber up the rope with only her arms. Her limbs burned from the effort as muscles she had not used in years struggled to remember the motions that had once been second nature to her.
Trust my luck! As soon as I get out on the water I get tossed over the side again!
"Curse ye Barbossa! Curse ye for kidnapping my friend and makin' me get back out here! Curse ye for makin' me sail through a ruddy storm to get to ye!" She growled to herself as she managed to get her feet braced against the hull, using them to climb up the side of the ship and ease the load on her already scrawny arms.
She was relieved when she saw William's head poke over the ship's railing, his terrified face softening with relief as he saw she was not lost to the waves.
"Give me your hand!" he shouted, reaching out one of his strong arms, the other holding tight to a rope to steady himself.
Peggy took the hand, growling as their fingers slipped and slid against one another as they tried to find purchase. Desperately she thrashed her arm out and wildly took a tight hold around his wrist, the hair on his arms offering her just enough grip. With a massive tug, he pulled her back on board as another wave crashed into them and jostled the boat to keel to the other side.
"Bloody hell!" Will cursed as he tripped backwards, one arm wrapped tight around Peggy and holding her close as they landed with a thud before the helm.
"Got her?!" Jack called turned the wheel once more to get the wind fully behind the sails.
"Got her!" Will shouted back as he and Peggy struggled back to their feet, their bodies half-entwined as they toppled over one another in a scramble of wet clothes and slippery floor. "Are you alright?!"
"Just dandy!" Peggy spat out a mouthful of seawater, her nostrils flaring with irritation as she ducked out from under his arm to re-tie another rope to its proper place by the railing.
Yet as she straightened up to check the rest of the rigging her right wrist burned like fire.
"AGHH!" she gasped, doubling over and clutching at her arm to Will's alarm.
"PEG!"
"I'm fine! Just a cramp!" she shouted, her eyes wildly scanning the horizon as she tried to straighten herself.
There, on the dark horizon in the distance, beyond the choppy waves, she could see the other ship illuminated by a momentary flash of green.
Her blood almost chilled to ice in her veins as she recognised the ship's outline. From its scraggly sails to its crocodilian-mouthed prow, a ghostly figure that was as much a ship as it was a monster from the deeps.
It was only there for a split second, a literal blinking of her eye and then it was gone. But even as it vanished from the horizon it was burnt right into her retina and her memory like the sun.
She was relieved when Jack shouted at her to return to her nook and obeyed his order without question. Nor did she struggle when Will grabbed her and dragged her back into the dark captain's cabin and dragged her to sit at the table in the centre.
"Peg!" Will called to her worriedly, slapping her cheeks as gently as he could as he tried to snap her back to her senses. "Peggy."
"I'm fine Will." She mumbled pushing his hand away. "Just had a bit of a shock. Is all."
"You're sure? You're absolutely sure?" Will searched her eyes, only to scowl as she shut them tiredly.
"Aye Will. I'm sure. Now go! They need everyone who can sail on deck."
"But Peg-"
"Go, Will! I'll be safe in here!" She mumbled just as the doors to the captain's quarters burst open and Gibbs bellowed.
"Oy lad! Get back out 'ere!"
"I'll come back to check on you soon," he whispered, planting a firm peck to her hairline before rushing quickly to join Gibbs outside.
Peggy watched in dismay as the door shut behind him, leaving her alone in the dark cold cabin…alone with him.
She didn't even need to hear his footsteps to know he was standing in the shadows behind her chair, nor did she need to see the shadow that loomed over her in the flash of lightning out the window.
Will would never have noticed him, for the devil had many ways to hide himself from the eyes of those he did not want to be seen by. It was an old trick he had often used with her, and she was a fool to think he would never use it again on her…or that she could ever have hidden from him.
"So…here ye are." the devil spoke, and though his voice was soft, it seemed to Peggy that it pierced the night air just as fiercely as any thunderclap. "Yer taller than last I saw you."
"It's been ten years." She said softly, keeping her eyes fixed on the table.
"Yes…Ten years." The devil rumbled; his wrath just as vicious as the seas outside. "Ten years since ye last reported back to me! Ten bloody years since ye abandoned yer duty to me! Yer captain! Ter whom ye had sworn yer oath, yer loyalty."
"Are you sure you didn't forget to check in?" Peggy muttered, wincing as what appeared to be a giant crab-like claw, slammed down on the table beside her hand.
"I gave yer a mission." The devil snapped, his mouth close to her ear, as many strange tentacle-like appendages slithered around her neck from behind. "I told yer to follow Jack Sparrow! To keep an eye on him, stick by him like a barnacle whatever the cost until his debt was paid in full."
"And I did so until I was tossed overboard," Peggy mumbled, voice trembling even as she willed herself to stay still and steady. "I did what I could to get back to the Pearl but-"
"LIAR!" the crab-claw once again slammed onto the table, causing a tear to fall down her cheek. "Wretch! Yer think I don't know what you've been up to these last ten years? Ye think I didn't know how you tried to escape me? ME? You thought you could run and hide on dry land and I'd not figure it out?"
"Captain-" Peggy started to say but was silenced as she was pulled bodily out of her chair to face the devil. He was still shrouded in shadow, but she needed no light to see the fury in his green-blue eyes above her.
"I could kill ye for yer disobedience." The devil snarled "By all means I should. I have all the right."
"We had a deal." Peggy trembled. "The thirteen years are still not done."
"Tis only a few months left-"
"We. Had. A. Deal," Peggy repeated, her voice firmer despite the fear in her heart.
For all the malice and terror, the devil bore he was still bound to his oaths as much as any other entity.
"Aye, we had a deal. And you broke it." He rumbled.
"No. I just got delayed." Peggy shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks "Am I not with Jack Sparrow now? Am I not running away now?"
That made the devil pause and the pale tentacles wrapped around her neck slackened ever so slightly.
"Nay…ye aren't." He admitted softly. "But I know yer kind. Cowards like ye wouldn't have returned to my ocean unless they had reason…" He trailed off and she could feel his sneer in the dark even as one of the tentacles around slithered up to caress her hairline, right along the spot Will had kissed her. "…Ahh…I see how it is then…That lad's the reason ye have disobeyed me. I should've known. Love…bah!" he scoffed. "Yer always was a foolish little chit. Tell me, does your dear beloved know yer soul belongs to another? That ye are bound to the dead and can never be with him?"
"No," Peggy whispered shutting her eyes.
"No? hmm, at least ye were capable of followin' some orders." The devil snorted. "I wonder though, can ye live with yourself knowin' that yer going to break the poor lad's heart soon?" his grin widened as she stayed silent. "What am I saying, of course, yer will. Women like ye are cold n' cruel when it comes to the affections of a man."
Peggy gasped as the tentacles around her neck suddenly released and she fell to her knees. As she fell, her right hand was still raised high above her head by his index finger which had been replaced by one long tentacle. It wrapped tight around her lower arm as he raised it painfully up into the air.
Peggy gasped and she bit her lip to stifle her cries of pain as she felt the tentacle's suckers grip the delicate skin over her veins. It was almost like getting bit by a leech, but instead of having her blood drained, she could feel something horrible and vile burn her skin and insides as it seeped into her body.
The devil hummed into the darkness as he gave her limb one final sadistic squeeze before letting her drop unceremoniously to the ground at his feet.
Peggy gaped at her arm. The spiral of circular bruises was now gone, only to be replaced by a single small ring of inky black on the inside of her wrist.
It was not the black spot. She had seen the black spot, a vile bubonic-like lesion that sprouted barnacles and disgusting slime from a person's palm. It was the ultimate death sentence. A sign to all that the sailor and all those who harboured him were doomed.
But she had never seen this awful brand before.
It was almost like a tattoo, but the veins around the mark were now stained with the same black ink and the skin was red and throbbing angrily.
"What…what is this?" she looked at the devil in horror.
"Our new contract." The devil sneered "Let it not be said I am not a generous man. Ye want to be with yer lad, you can be with him until yer time is up. Ye have eight months. Eight months with the one ye love, then yer return ter me, never to see him again. One hundred years before the mast as per our original agreement, and another hundred as compensation for the trouble ye put me through."
"Another hundred?"
"Aye, another hundred. That'd be ten years for every year you've disobeyed my orders." The devil chuckled with pride at his handiwork. "I'd not try runnin' again if I were ye. If yer do, then the ink in this mark-" He made a pointed glance to the black circle on her wrist "-will kill ye and send yer soul straight to the locker where ye belong. N' there will be no swimming away from that."
There was no sympathy in the devil's eyes as he straightened up to his full height, the large hat on his head curved upwards making his silhouette look horned and even more demonic than he already was. There was only a leer of triumphant sadistic pleasure.
And why shouldn't he be triumphant?
He had won.
It did not matter whether Peggy tried returning to Port Royal with Will and Elizabeth now. It would not matter if she had hidden herself in the deepest corners of the Asian sub-continent in the desert.
He would always find her, and she would never escape his hunt, in life or death.
"You've been pretty quiet."
"Just tired." Peggy sighed as she avoided Annamaria's suspicious gaze.
It was finally morning, the storm of last night long gone behind them. The sunrise over the ocean had been a luscious mixture of pinks and lavenders that heralded a pretty shade of bright blue dotted only by a couple of high clouds.
But Peggy was finding it difficult to appreciate the sight as she sat up on deck with Annamaria and Cotton and a couple of other sailors named Franky and Dodge stitching up a ruined sail. Her heart was too heavy, her chest so constricted she thought she might never breathe easy again.
Sleep had come at great difficulty to her after her visit from the Devil. Even after she had tried to bury herself in her bed she had to shut her eyes and fake slumber to fool Will and Jack. Jack was surprisingly easy to deceive, though that may have been because he was too tired from helming the ship all night to care.
However, Will had not been so easily duped despite his exhaustion. Why else would he deem it his duty to stay by her all night? Will was always bound by propriety unless his concern got the better of him.
Eventually, she found some sleep for a few short hours before dawn, though it did little to ease the ache in her heart.
Eight months…she only had eight months left of freedom, then she was no more.
How had time flown so fast?
And more importantly, how had she been so foolish to think she'd ever escape the devil?
"Ow!" she winced as her fingers slipped and the needle poked at her skin. "I'm fine." She added as Cotton spared her a look of concern.
"Anna's right yer lookin' mighty down lass," Dodge commented, wincing as Cotton's parrot Paulie flapped down from the rigging above, his wing cuffing the sailor over the head as he passed and landed on his master's shoulder.
"Hang the jib!"* The bird squawked at Peggy, turning his head side-on so one intelligent eye could watch her intently.
"Like I said. I'm just tired." Peggy mumbled as she sucked on her finger and inspected the digit. It was only a small prick. Nothing major. Good, that meant she could continue working. "It's been a while since I was on the ocean like this." She explained when Annamaria continued to look sceptical.
"How long?" the woman asked.
"Ten years."
Dodge and Franky both whistled in surprise.
"That's a long time to be away from the ocean lass." Franky quirked an eyebrow at her. "I heard you used to sail with the captain when you were a youngin' is that true?"
"Aye." Peggy nodded.
"What made you leave?" Dodge asked curiously, earning Peggy a few more raised brows from Annamaria and Cotton, as well as a few men securing the rigging around them.
Peggy felt her cheeks burn under the scrutiny as she exchanged a small glance with Will who was only a few feet away scrubbing the deck on Jack's orders. Even though he knew most of what happened he was curious to see if she would be just as honest with the crew.
"Well…" Peggy gulped. "I didn't have a choice 'n the matter. I got chucked overboard when that scumbag Barbossa tried to-"
"Barbossa?" Annamaria and Cotton exchanged horrified glances. "You got thrown overboard by Hector Barbossa?"
"Aye. The very same. Unless there's another vicious old codfish sailing the seas by the same name." Peggy added with a small smirk to herself.
"So…you survived Hector Barbossa?" Dodge seemed torn between awe and terror at the very thought "The man he's…he's a wretched demon."
"Not as bad as Blackbeard or Borgan the Butcher." Peggy shuddered in revulsion. "Of course, I have never met Blackbeard, so I don't know how bad he is up close, but Borgan now there's a right piece of work."
"What does he do?" Will asked as he carefully maneuvered himself and his scrubbing brush, so he was by the side of the barrel Peggy sat upon while sewing.
"What doesn't he do?" Franky shook his head fretfully. "Man lives up to his name right enough."
"But mainly he specialises in kidnapping, ransom and extortion," Peggy explained to Will's questioning brow. "He'll raid ports and take girls or young women from their homes and demand payment so outrageous in exchange for them returned. Those that can't pay will never see the girls again, those that do pay…well…they get to see what's left of them. If there are any survivors they usually are missing something. Hardly anyone escapes him unscathed."
"You can't be serious?" Will stared at her incredulously, his face paling as Peggy and all the sailors did not crack a smile.
"I wish I was. But alas, men like him do exist.'" She mumbled, looking back down at her stitches in the sail as Paulie the Parrot squawked in an almost angry tone:
"Cleave 'im to the brisket!** Sqwaaak! Scurvy dog!"
There was a pause as Cotton nodded with a grim sadness even as he sliced a thumb across his throat.
"Cotton's right. The man deserves to be fed to the sharks." Annamaria agreed with an aggressive stab of her needle through a patch. "Barbossa is a nasty piece of work but at least he does follow the Code. Borgan is just one of 'em sick bastards who thinks because he has a ship and flies no colours he has a right to call himself one of us pirates."
"He wouldn't be the first." Peggy snorted. "Contrary to what the officers believe back home William, pirates do have some rules we follow."
"Really?" Will almost sounded disbelieving. Lawless cutthroat pirates had rules and regulations? That sounded absurd…
"Aye, lad we do!" Franky nodded sagely glad the topic was turning onto something less grim "Mayhap the things we do might not be quite lawful or legal. But, that doesn't mean there are no lines no man should cross. Ooh, here we go." Franky grunted as he tried to snap a thread with his tooth.
"Here you can-oh…" Peggy's face fell as she reached to her hip and found nothing there. "Never mind." She mumbled downcast.
That's right. How could she forget the rotten cherry on top of her terrible first night at sea?
Her scissors, her silver pair of scissors, her most treasured gift from Will and her favourite tool of defence had been lost as she had almost fallen overboard last night. She had not noticed them missing until she had been getting dressed that morning and nearly had a panic attack much to her embarrassment.
She remembered the day Will had gifted them to her, his face alight with pride and eager nerves. He had put hours and hours of effort into the project. All that dedication and that care…now it was somewhere at the bottom of the deep blue sea.
Well, she supposed it was better than it being in the hands of the Devil. He often took such treasured trinkets like that from his crew if only for the sadistic pleasure of it.
Still…
A gentle pat on her shoulder snapped her out of her miserable thoughts and she looked down to see Will smiling at her comfortingly.
"I can always make you another pair when we get home. Or better yet a knife or a dagger."
"Better include a coin with that mate, otherwise yer and yer lass will both have very bad luck." Dodge piped in with a very knowing grin to Franky.
Peggy shook her head and smiled at Will, though her heart ached from the effort.
Home…the forge, the shop, their tiny apartment. As scrummy a landlord as Mister Brown was, it was still a good home. Both she and Will had worked so hard to make it so, and now in a few months she would have to leave it all behind, and Will would be all alone.
That was if they didn't get hung for piracy first.
But would the devil let her hang? Would he let someone else play with his food? Or would his new mark just send her to the locker when she died?
She was glad to hear Gibbs' shout from just below deck.
"Oy Peggy! Captain needs his lunch!"
"On it Mister Gibbs!" Peggy called swiftly dashing away, doing her best to ignore Will's confused stare on her back.
She knew she'd have to tell him sooner or later that she would be leaving, but just thinking of it now was making her feel almost seasick again.
Once again she was lying to him. Once again she had no choice but to pull the wool over his eyes and she hated it. Just when she thought she could finally be honest and her full self around him…
Get a hold of yourself, Peggy Blake. She chastised herself as she did her best to blink back her tears. You knew this day would come ever since the first day you two met. Deep down you always knew you'd have to leave him behind.
"My keen intuition regarding the female psyche tells me that you, Pegsy, are troubled."
Peggy blinked and suddenly became aware that she was no longer down in the hold. Indeed, she was no longer below deck. She was in the captain's cabin, standing beside Jack as he sat down at his table and ate his lunch of salted meat, bread, pickled vegetables and a peeled orange.
Damn, she must have gotten lost in her thoughts again. At least she had been able to do her task without thinking.
"Sorry Captain…just…" She trailed off and shook her head. "Honestly I don't even know what's going on." She said softly, eyes fixed on the wood grain of the table.
"Nothin' to do with yer head ey?" Jack asked through a mouthful of food.
"Huh?"
"Yer head. Y'know, fell over the side again." Jack took a swig of the rum bottle. "It's a bad habit y'know. Falling overboard."
"O-oh that. No. no that's all fine. It was more my arm that got the brunt of it." She waved him off casually. A little too casually perhaps because the side-eye he gave her almost made her want to hide.
Damn. The man was always so freakishly observant whenever she did not need him to be and such an airhead when it suited him.
"A'right! Come on lass sit down!" he dragged out the chair beside him with his foot.
"Jack-"
"Captain's orders. Sit down an' eat with me. S'boring eatin' all alone while everyone else is all busy out there! And that whelp's been takin' up so much of your time we've barely been able to chew the fat."
"But-"
"C'mon Pegs. For ol' times sake." Jack whinged, kicking the chair again.
"A-alright." Peggy gulped and hesitantly sat down, only to have a piece of bread shoved into her hands.
Instantly she felt her chest tighten at the familiar action. How often had they sat chatting as she waited on him, him sharing small morsels with her as they talked? Only now things were so different…
"How long till we find the Pearl?" she coughed, doing her best to squash down the depressing thoughts from her mind.
"Should be caught up the day after tomorrow," Jack grunted as he tore a chunk of meat with his teeth. "Luckily for us that storm gave us a nice boost in the right direction, otherwise it would've been more than four days."
"Thank Poseidon for that." Peggy sighed in relief. The less time they spent adrift the less time Elizabeth was in danger.
"Why would he take Lizzy?" She wondered aloud as she tore off a chunk of her bread. "Hector's not usually one for taking prisoners. So why the hell does he want her? I mean yeah sure she has a piece of the treasure from Isla de Muertos on her, and yes she's a pretty woman and the governor's daughter. But if they're trying to get rid of the curse then why take her captive? Why not just take the medallion and toss her?"
"All good questions Pegsy." Jack agreed as he stuffed his mouth full of vegetables and beans. "Which I do not have any answer to. Your guesses are as good as mine."
Peggy narrowed her eyes at Jack's disinterested shrug.
He seemed a bit too calm about the situation. True all he wanted was the Pearl back and he did not care much for Will's plight…but if he did not care about Will, then why did he want him to come along?
"Jack…" She bit her lip and leaned forward to strip off a piece of salted meat. "What happened to Bootstrap after we left?"
"Dunno luv." Jack swallowed a massive mouthful. "All I know is what I heard after we both got dumped over the side."
"And what did you hear?" Peggy prompted.
"Only that he's dead," Jack muttered. "Dunno how it happened. But what I heard was that Barbossa an' his scurvy dogs killed 'im and threw him away to drown in the briny blue like you. He did not have your luck when it came to getting tossed. Speaking of which," he coughed and pointed to Peggy with a ringed finger "I've been meaning to ask, how did you survive? Barbossa had you all tied and bound."
"I…I don't know Jack." Peggy shook her head as she tried to push away the sorrow at hearing the awful news. Poor Will. His father was gone for good. He'd be heartbroken. And poor Bootstrap. He deserved so much better than the rotten hand he was given.
"I remember wriggling out of the rope and swimming to the surface. Then there was this big piece of driftwood that floated across my path and I just clung to that until the next ship came. I nearly would have frozen to death had they not spotted me."
"Very lucky indeed." Jack snorted, clearly disappointed in the lack of action and adventure, though Peggy had no idea how she would embellish such a bleak tale. "And the whelp? How'd you end up with him?"
"The ship that saved me ended up in that awful hurricane barely a couple of weeks later. I don't know how it happened. The last thing I remember was getting washed overboard by a massive wave and the next minute I was laying on the beach at Port Royal and there was Will, trying to wake me up." Despite her heartache, she found herself smiling fondly at the memory. "He was so worried about me that he carried me to the forge all on his own and offered me a place to stay, no questions asked. We've been side by side ever since."
"Yes, I can see that." Jack wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "Boy does a great job of sticking to you. He's very sticky. So sticky one might wonder how much he truly cares about you-"
"We're just friends Jack." Peggy rolled her eyes. Oh great, first the crew and now Jack. "This is what happens when you live together with someone for years. You care about one another, know one another. Trust me, when we find Lizzy you'll see she's the only woman for him."
"And that does not bother you in the slightest?" Jack frowned in confusion, but the wicked gleam in his brown eyes betrayed his keen interest to keep poking the bear.
"Not at all. Why should it?" Peggy stuffed the rest of her bread crust into her mouth. "He loves her. If being with her makes him happy why should it bother me?"
"Because it means your whelp will no longer fawn over you." Jack sneered. "Come on you can tell ol' Jackie. You enjoy him following you around and fussing over you like this, I can see it. Just like I can see how much you love being back out here on the sea. Oh yes, I daresay that hum-drum life in that dumpy port with your beloved eunuch was fine, but out here on the sea is where you truly belong anyone can see that, even him. So, here's my real question to you Pegs. Why are you so keen on staying away from the thing you want most ey?"
Peggy turned her face away, eyes burning hot even as she gulped down hard on the food in her throat, her fingers tracing her covered right wrist. How she wished she could answer that question aloud instead she just said:
"And how would you know what I want most hmm?"
"I don't. But I do know the look of someone who is running from something they don't want." Jack grunted as he began peeling the skin off his orange. "and clearly, that thing you don't want is bothering you right now or else you wouldn't be sulking and moping about the ship like this."
Peggy sucked in a deep breath.
"We've both been around the block a few times Jack. You know there are times we have no choice but to do what we can to survive. Sometimes those choices come back to bite us in the arse."
"Ahh. And which choice is comin' after you I wonder?" he glanced at the door to his cabin "It's not the whelp is it? he ain't still grousing about you lying to him?"
"No…He's been surprisingly fine about it all. He was mad at me, but he understands." Peggy mumbled avoiding his eye.
"And yet you're still holding yourself back from taking him for yourself-"
"Well what else do you expect me to do Jack?" she looked him dead in the eye as she rose to her feet. "I'm a pirate. I can't exactly offer him the life he wants."
"Ah, so you do love him. You're just giving up because it's easier to run away and take the coward's way out. I can respect that." Jack tipped his orange to her as if he were tipping his cup.
Peggy gritted her teeth but held back her temper. Had the comment come from anyone else she might have been able to shrug it off. Coming from Jack was almost like being stabbed in the guts and he knew it. The bastard.
BANG!
The gunshot was so loud it made Jack almost fall off his chair.
"What the-" Peggy squeaked to Jack who scrambled to his feet as the door opened with a slam. It was Will, and he was looking harried and out of breath.
"Fight on deck." He panted as Peggy rushed over to check him for injuries. His clothes looked rumpled as if he had been manhandled but otherwise, he was alright. "Yarrow and Daniels. Something about money. Gibbs is trying to break them up."
As if on queue a loud angry shout blasted behind Will's back accompanied by the unmistakable sounds of scuffling and thuds of hits being landed.
"Ugh! Step aside!" Jack rolled his eyes as he straightened himself up and pushed past the blacksmith with an annoyed scowl and a mutter "Just when things were finally getting interesting."
"Interesting?" Will quirked an eyebrow at Peggy who sighed.
"It's nothing. Just Jack being Jack." She mumbled, her hands patting the open collar of his shirt flat and smooth. "I know I keep asking this a lot nowadays but are you-"
"All fine." Will chuckled in relief. "Those two aren't exactly that strong."
"Strength doesn't matter when guns or weapons get involved." Peggy sighed as she stepped around to peer out the door.
Half the crew were on the deck. Some were standing by and watching idly with smirks or whispers, while others were restraining two struggling men. Jack was in the middle of it all with Gibbs who sported a bruise on his cheek and a scowl of annoyance.
"Money ey?" Peggy looked at Will who shook his head and followed her gaze with almost exasperated amusement.
"I think so. They were playing some dice game with some cups and-"
"Liars dice." Peggy snorted. "It's a fun game if you know the rules, but it can get pretty heated."
"So I saw. Yarrow threw the board halfway across the deck."
"And people call me a hothead."
They both chuckled, though Peggy's faded swiftly as she watched both men get dragged below deck to the brig on Jack's orders.
Just think…in eight months that'll be me. She thought miserably only to wince as she felt a small hard tug on the end of her braid.
"Ow! William!" she whined, glowering up at him.
"I'm sorry did something happen?" he smiled innocently down at her and was rewarded by her swatting at his chest.
"You little – pulling my hair like that, it hurts!"
"Pulling your hair? Now why would I do anything of the sort?" yet even as the words left his mouth his fingers playfully tugged on a stray curl that had escaped its bindings.
"Because we both know beneath those big beautiful brown eyes, you're a bloody rascal." She elbowed him gently in the ribs.
"You think my eyes are beautiful?" Will snorted enjoying the way her cheeks flushed almost the same colour as her hair.
"I was being sarcastic." She mumbled as she leaned away from his teasing fingers.
"Oh really? Ow!" Will grumbled as she elbowed him slightly harder in the side. "Now that hurt."
"Pff! Please, that was hardly a hit. Looks like someone's getting soft."
"Me? Soft?" Will scoffed "I'm not the one who gave up on my daily practice."
"You try squeezing in practice when Missus Berry has you up to your ears in laundry for twelve hours straight." Peggy shook her head.
"But you don't have any laundry to do now."
"Speak plainly Will."
"I don't need to. I think you know exactly what I'm saying." Will grinned.
"Five minutes and I'll meet you on the poop deck." Peggy agreed and was surprised to feel the first true smile of the day spread across her face even as she rushed back into the cabin.
It had been a long time since they had last sparred. She had missed their daily practices, but what choice did she have with all that work piled on her.
But now…now here she was…on a pirate ship. With eight months left and no job or petty small women telling her what to do.
I guess I better make the most of it.
Something was wrong.
Jack Sparrow could smell it in the air.
Or was that the rum he had accidentally spilt on his shirt? He quickly sniffed at his collar but found nothing out of the ordinary. Only the typical musk of a sailor who sweated in the sun got soaked by the sea and enjoyed a healthy diet of fish and rum.
And yet he could feel the prickling of something on the back of his neck as he looked around his cabin.
The day had been relatively peaceful since he had put Yarrow and Daniels in the brig to cool off. Now the rest of the crew were on deck either tending to their duties or watching and making bets as Will and Peggy practiced their swordsmanship up on the poop deck.
While Jack had fought Will and knew his skills were above average it was good to see Peggy had not lost her touch either. True she was a bit rusty from lack of practice, but once she had shaken the cobwebs off she was still the same ferocious little scamp she always had been.
Now it was evening, no storm on the horizon that night. Only a small night shift would be needed while the rest of the crew either slept or entertained themselves in the hold or on deck.
And Jack…well he was taking a nice quiet drink in his cabin and feeling oddly disturbed. Was it just him or was there the faint smell of rotten fish about the place? He had barely had time to notice it last night, what with how exhausted he was from the storm.
Or maybe Peggy was right to be revolted against him because he did smell that terrible? But no. He had been sure to bathe while in the company of the lovely Gabrielle while in Tortuga and Peggy had not complained to him about his smell today.
Was it the whelp? Was he the source of the smell? A blacksmith would sweat a lot after all and he had sparred for quite a while and scrubbed the deck.
But no. The boy was just as finicky about being clean as Peggy was. She had most likely drilled hygiene into him early on knowing her.
Jack rolled his eyes to himself as he silently stalked over and peeked inside the door to the cabin boy's nook.
Peggy was sleeping curled up on her bed beneath her blanket. She had removed all her soggy clothes and folded them neatly on the windowsill beside her bed. Her copper curls were loose about her thin excuse for a pillow and the sleeves of her shift had slipped precariously from her shoulders, revealing a gentle slope of her freckled décolletage.
On the floor beside the bed, Will Turner was resting soundly in a sitting position, his head resting against the side of her mattress on his folded arms with his forehead almost touching hers. He had bundled his brown vest into a makeshift pillow for his behind and had wrapped a thin but dry blanket around his shoulders for warmth. Despite the odd position, the lad seemed content with where he slept.
Then again, Jack could not blame him. Sharing a room with a woman while at sea was a sailor's dream, even if the lad did not quite have the hang of it yet. Seriously, what was the point of sleeping beside a woman if you were not going to enjoy her body in the same bed? Even without the sex, the heat of her soft form would be enough to ward the chill away. If the lad were content enough to hold her body against him in a tavern why would he be so against sharing a bed with her?
That boy is hopeless.
Jack took a long hard swig of his rum as he remembered the whelp's awkward blush at the prostitute's interest the night before. Ye gods and he called himself a man? Hiding behind Pegsy like that, sheesh! And he expected to win the heart of the fair lady he said he would die to save?
Jack could not wait for the lad to find his precious Elizabeth what's-her-face if only to watch the light leave his eyes when he was rejected by such a fine specimen of a woman. It was the least he deserved.
Jack was not often impressed by the high-born ladies. True, they were pretty but most were too delicate and particular for his taste. But that Elizabeth lass…now she had spirit. A real fire behind those brown eyes. Jack supposed he should have expected as such from a friend of Peggy's.
I'll give her credit. Pegsy may have a terrible taste in men, but her choice of ladies is impeccable. Jack rolled his eyes to himself.
Once again he found himself wondering why Peggy seemed to care so much about the whelp at all. Apart from his pretty face and fancy fighting skills, he wasn't all that special. Jack could think of over a dozen pirates and merchants that would kill for a lass like her on their arm or in their beds.
Even Jack might have pressed his suit. But no. Sleeping with a woman he had known since her literal childhood made his insides shrivel just thinking about it.
Still, that did not mean Jack had to like watching her get fawned over by this disgusting runt. Though he'd never sleep with Peggy, she was still his cabin girl goddammit! He did not waste months teaching her the ways of piracy and skullduggery to see it wasted on a fussy whelp like William Turner.
The pirate's eyes narrowed as they drifted back onto Peggy's sleeping face. It was peaceful and smiling, a far cry from the despondent and depressed lass that had eaten lunch with him earlier today.
Given the lass's unfortunate knack for getting tossed overboard, Jack might have believed it was the shock of catching up with her. But then he remembered how she had clutched hard at her right arm the day before, and the way she had done so again during the storm.
That had been twice now her arm was causing her trouble, though as far as Jack could tell, she did not seem to have any trouble using the limb while carrying heavy goods or hauling on ropes.
Had Barbossa injured her during their last encounter? No, Jack would have noticed a scar…or would he? The girl might not be afraid to show off her lovely chest when pressed, but she had always been very cautious about revealing her arms and legs even as a young one.
Little Pegsy is always so careful, always hiding something. Jack mused as he took another hearty swig. Hiding from the whelp, hiding from me… But what are you hidin' ey? That's the question…
He had wondered if he should try to get her drunk on some rum. That usually worked a treat in loosening tongues. But no. Peggy hated the drink and would only touch it to stave off dehydration in the bleakest of circumstances.
So, then what? What could he give to her that would make her talk? Or at the very least roll up her sleeves. Perhaps he could force her into some sweaty manual labour alongside her blacksmith?
No… that might not be a good idea either.
A sweaty woman showing off skin on deck for the sake of the captain could lead to all sorts of trouble and may make the men resentful of him. Jack had worked far too hard to get his revenge on the first bunch of scoundrels that had mutinied on him to have another whole crew betray him and all because of a woman.
Besides, he doubted Peggy would stick around if she suspected his true intentions. The girl was like a fish. Disturb the water just a little bit and she would swim away at top speed. He had nearly done so during their earlier conversation.
Jack quietly shut the door and sauntered over to his previous seat. Again, he could not help but feel like someone else was in the room watching him. Was the whelp awake this whole time? Wait why was Jack so worried about that? It was his cabin after all!
Will was adamant about being Pegsy's personal guard dog so Jack would not put it past him to be wary of his surroundings. The fact he was willing to sleep on the floor of her nook to ensure her safety was proof of his remaining distrust of the crew.
Ironic, since the lad was just as much a pirate as any of them. He may try and act all squeaky clean and do-goody-two-shoes, but Jack had never seen anyone adapt so quickly to life among pirates, not even Peggy. The ocean was in that boy's blood sure as eggs.
"A chip of yer old block ey Bootstrap," Jack mumbled as he drained the last of his rum only to frown as he caught sight of a couple of small dark stains on the rug beneath him. "Hmm wassat?"
He crouched down to swipe a finger against the largest splodge mark. It was dried and flaking.
It wasn't blood, nor was it varnish. It was dark brown much like-
"Ink?" Jack frowned as he took a small sniff as a couple of flecks stuck to his finger.
Yep, that was ink alright. And not very nice smelling ink either. It was very – he took another quick sniff – acrid.
He pulled a face as he wiped his finger on his vest to clean it, his eyes roving curiously about the cabin.
A writing desk was in the far corner of the room laden with charts. But he could not see an inkwell or a quill pen anywhere.
That was funny. He did not remember sitting down to take notes or write anything recently. So how had ink ended up on the floor?
It could have been Pegsy. Jack mused to himself. The girl might have scribbled a little while tucked away in here at some point.
Yes. That seemed like the most reasonable explanation. The brat could never stay still even when sick or injured.
Jack grinned with satisfaction as he upended the rum to catch the last few drops from the bottom.
However, none hit his tongue.
He sighed heavily as he peered down the neck of the empty bottle.
"Why is the rum always gone?"
Notes:
*Hang the Jib - Pirate slang meaning to pout or to frown.
**Cleave him to a brisket - to kill a man by cutting across the chest from the shoulders to the stomach.
And that's chapter 6. Peggy's troubles are growing deeper and Jack is getting more suspicious. He may be a flake but he is clever, he also likes to poke the bear so long as it does not harm him.
Hope you all enjoyed and as always please fave, follow or review if you would like to see more.
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FuzzyBeta
Chapter 7: A Matter of Leverage
Summary:
"Sorry Jack. I'm not going to be your leverage!"
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Will Turner, sighed up at the dark ceiling above him. It was just before dawn if the grey light peeking over the horizon was anything to go by.
Four days and four nights had passed since he and Peggy had set out from Port Royal.
Three of those days had been spent in the company of a crew of pirates led by the enigmatic and eccentric Jack Sparrow.
Had anyone told him he would ever consort with a pirate, let alone sail as part of a pirate's crew, he would have laughed and called them mad. Ever since being attacked by pirates on the passage from England he had felt a great distaste and hatred towards the lawless buccaneers.
Then the Black Pearl had appeared in Port Royal, and everything was turned upside down and on his head.
He had thought all pirates to be rotten, evil, vile villains who'd sooner cut your throat than speak to you. While that was true of the crew of the Black Pearl (and many other ships), the current crew of the Interceptor did not seem to fit such a bloodthirsty description.
Oh, for sure there were many dubious characters amongst them, and Will was often warned to keep his guard up when it came to his personal effects, but apart from that, the ragtag crew of the Interceptor were not all that bad.
Most kept to themselves, and aside from Yarrow and Daniel's squabble over dice and a couple of small skirmishes, it was relatively peaceful sailing. Many were good sailors, hardy and surprisingly as efficient as any of the navy officers back at Port Royal. Indeed, some of the men had once been naval officers who had left the service of the Crown in search of a less restrictive life.
One such man had been Jack's first mate Gibbs. He was, Will thought, a rather decent chap all things considered. Aside from his annoying gullibility regarding superstitious nonsense, he had an admirable sense of loyalty and knew how to manage a tight ship.
Then there was Cotton, a very calm and patient man who had been very generous to Will in teaching him how to properly tie the more advanced sailing knots when the winds were slow. Despite his naturally docile nature, he was deceptively strong as Will discovered after watching the older gentleman pull apart a squabbling pair of pirates and draw a knife on them in warning before either could escalate to guns or swords. For a man of few words, he could make his point known quite well without the aid of his rather foul-mouthed parrot Paulie.
Marty was also someone Will had been made to work with often. Or rather, Marty had been tasked with keeping an eye on him whenever Jack or Gibbs were unavailable. The shorter bald man was watchful like a hawk and kept Will on his toes when it came to his chores, pushing him hard. However, he did enjoy divulging a few interesting stories and tales of brawls and fights he had won during breaks which were often entertaining and insightful.
Another person Will saw often was Annamaria, though this was in the evenings when she took the night shift at the helm. Despite her hot head and vicious streak, she too had a lot of interesting tales to tell of her time on the sea. She came from a family of smugglers in Tortuga and had been out on the oceans since before she could walk and talk. She was especially good at cards, and Will was grateful he had not placed any wagers against her in any game for she would have fleeced him for all his coin.
Then once you got over the motley crew, there was the captain himself. Even by pirate standards, Jack Sparrow was considered an anomaly, and that said a lot. He was just as conniving and as selfish as a pirate should be. He loved his rum and his women and was especially good at twisting his words to make any argument suit himself, but then there were the smaller moments that made Will wonder at the man's true nature. Despite trying to appear disinterested in other people when it suited him, Jack was oddly observant of his surroundings. He kept a close eye on the crew and the ship and could assume command quite well when pushed.
Then there was how he treated Peggy. That was what frustrated Will most of all.
Peggy might have tried to shrug off her relationship with the pirate as being as strictly professional as any cabin boy and captain would be, but Will was not blind. Yes, there was still some tension between them, but Will could see how comfortable Jack and Peggy were together when they thought he and no one else was looking. Peggy certainly was more adept at reading the enigmatic pirate captain than most of the crew, except Gibbs.
When they were alone, their teasing was softer, and more playful, with many a reference and an inside joke that only they knew. Then there were the serious moments where they became quieter around one another, each saying more with a glance than they ever did in words as if they could read one another's thoughts through their eyes.
It greatly annoyed Will whenever that happened, for Jack would smirk at him with smug satisfaction like a little boy showing off a better and shinier toy than the rest of his playmates. Normally Will would have been able to shrug off such childish gloating, but for some reason, it was difficult to ignore the pangs of anger that swelled within him whenever Jack shoved his "victory" in his face.
The worst had been the day before when Jack had called Peggy and him up onto the deck for some swordsmanship practice. Or rather, Jack had practised with Peggy while Will had been made to sit to the side and watch on the sidelines like a scolded child.
Then the captain flaunted in his face one more piece of information Peggy had not seen fit to share.
"Now love, let's see how much you remember from our lessons."
Of course, not only was Jack Sparrow Peggy's old captain, but he had taught her to fight, and Will had to admit, that Jack had taught her well. As they fought, Will could not help but remember his first fight with the pirate and how his style had briefly reminded him of Peggy. At first, Will had thought nothing of it, believing it was merely the mark of a good swordsman. But now seeing the two of them sparring it was clear to Will that Peggy had picked up a lot of her old captain's surprisingly smooth and dance-like style, though she had put her own more aggressive and sharper spin on it to suit her.
With a scowl Will turned over onto his side, his nose now engulfed by a mass of coppery curls. After two nights sleeping on the floor of her cabin, Peggy had finally snapped and dragged him up to sleep beside her on her tiny cot.
There was barely enough room for one of them let alone them both, but somehow they had managed to squeeze in and fit side by side.
It was hardly a decent arrangement given their situation, but at the time Will had been too tired and sore to care. Besides, as Peggy had pointed out, it was not the first time they had been forced to share a bed due to necessity.
They had often done so in the early days of their friendship, as awful nightmares had haunted them both rather frequently. Then as young adolescents there had been times when Mister Brown had been on a rampage after a night of heavy drinking that Peggy had been forced to hide in Will's room for her safety. Eventually they solved the problem when Will worked with the town locksmith to create a bolt to secure her room from the inside.
Since then, they had both been comfortable in their own spaces, only ever staying in one another's rooms in a chair beside the bed if the other was sick and needed tending, which was rare as they had both developed quite strong constitutions.
But that had all been in the past. They had been innocent children, seeking comfort and security from one another when their guardian failed in his duty of care.
Now…now Will could not help but feel hyper-aware of every small movement she made even as she turned over to face him and buried her face into his chest. He could feel every small breath against his clavicle, her hand accidentally slipped past the open collar of his shirt to rest over his racing heart, the smell of her hair as it tickled his nose. The scent of soap, sea salt and spices grew more powerful as her body shifted closer. Will sucked in a sharp breath as he felt the softness of her curves press against him in ways that made his entire body tingle as if touched by embers.
The action was so innocent on her part, but Will could not contain the shiver that ran through him down to the tips of his toes as her body moulded into his. Though he may have thought of her as only a dear friend, he was still a man. He was not completely immune to her looks and charm.
Will was willing to admit that his biased opinion might have stemmed from his fondness for his friend. Several women in Port Royal were renowned for their good looks like Elizabeth, though most were of noble birth or noble adjacent. And there had been those women in Tortuga who were just as gorgeous in that careless, exposed way.
Still, despite bearing witness to their loveliness, Will found his opinion hardly changed. Peggy was one of the most beautiful women he had known, only second to Elizabeth who held his heart.
Her hair was perhaps Will's favourite feature. Even now as she slept peacefully in his arms her curls spread over her side of the bed in an untameable mass of red copper. It was such a pretty colour that reminded him of the warm fire in the forge back home. Her eyes when open reminded him of a clear sky reflected in the blade of a steel sword and could be just as sharp when she was annoyed or angry.
As for her body…well he had not given it much of a thought… till now.
After feeling it so intimately against his own tonight he could understand why so many men in Tortuga had looked at her with such longing. Had Will's heart not been taken by another and his inhibitions lowered by looser morals he may have sought the comfort of her curves to ease his base desires.
He felt his cheeks burn at the memory of her exposing her chest to Gabrielle the prostitute. Will knew she had only done that to protect his virtue and deliver some petty revenge upon Jack for all his teasing. But he had found himself unable to look away. It was ironic really. So many women had been exposed to him in that bar and yet he could not tear his eyes away from the barest hint of his best friend's chest. It was, he had to admit, a rather nice bosom, but still…
He tried to assuage his guilt by assuring himself it was nothing more than a biological response and perhaps a little curiosity for he had never seen so much of Peggy's skin since they had been children.
Normally she abhorred exposing her body in any way. Will was not sure if it was a byproduct of her secretive nature or if she was always just that shy, though he assumed it was a generous mixture of both. The only time she was ever willing to expose any skin to him was if it was to do with injury or sickness, and even then she only showed as much was needed.
Will had respected her boundaries. She was his friend and housemate; it would have been wholly inappropriate for him to leer or lech at her as Mister Brown did in their home. The fact that she still trusted Will so much that she was willing to put aside her discomfort for his protection made his heart swell with pride and affection.
What had he done to deserve a friend so loyal in the form of such a woman? If she was to give access to her body he sincerely hoped it would be to a husband who loved her and revered her like the moon and stars above.
He chanced another look down as he felt her lips curl downwards against his skin.
Just what was making her press so much against him tonight? She was never this clingy.
He found his answer when he lowered his gaze further and noticed that her shift slipped from her shoulder to reveal her freckled skin.
Not only that but her ankles and feet were also curled and cringing as she unconsciously searched for a covering.
He sighed and shook his head. No wonder she was so desperate for closeness tonight. He had hogged all the blankets leaving her with very little to protect herself from the chill night air.
Carefully, trying not to disturb her slumber, he spread the blanket back over her feet before reaching up to fix her shift. Her skin was beguilingly smooth, he mused as his fingertips drifted away from her resettled sleeve and up along the column of her neck.
She had freckles running along the sides too, how had he never noticed them before?
While many back in Port Royal considered her freckles a blemish upon an otherwise fine complexion, Will was fond of them. They reminded him of the way the stars speckled across the night sky.
He pulled the blanket up to her ears and felt her body instantly relax and melt tiredly into the thin excuse of a mattress. Her sigh of contentment fluttered against his shirt as he rolled onto his back once more, keeping her close against his side with one arm wrapped around her shoulders.
As inappropriate as this all might be, it was deeply satisfying to know that only he would get to see her so unguarded like this.
So much for Jack knowing all your secrets.
He smiled smugly to himself, then felt instantly guilty.
God, the childish way he was acting was almost shameful. What would his mother say?
His heart softened as memories of his mother drifted across his mind's eye. It had been a long time since Will had thought of Katherine Turner. He remembered her long dark hair, her big doe eyes that were patient and wise beyond her years, and her kind smile. He wondered what she would make of his turn to piracy. Would she have been ashamed of him? Hated him? resented him? Or would she have understood that what he did he did for love? Will liked to believe she would have understood, after all her husband had been a pirate right?
Or was that something she had never known? Had she been in the dark like he had been until her death? Or did she know the truth about the man she married?
Had she lied to William to spare him the pain? Will dearly hoped she hadn't if only so his last memories of his mother were not tainted by such horrible pain.
Honestly, he still was unsure if he could believe it all or not. His father, a pirate…just another criminal on the high seas.
Had he been like the motley crew of the Interceptor? Just an oddball outcast with nowhere else to go, or had he been a cutthroat like those on the Black Pearl?
Will wondered about the letters his father had sent him over the years. Despite hardly seeing the man since he was barely out of infancy, Will had always admired his father, or at least, his mother's version of the man. The very man who sent all those letters encouraging him in his studies and telling tales of exciting adventures and distant ports. The man who sent him that strange but beautiful gold medallion with the promise of seeing him someday soon when he was old enough to understand.
Will no longer had any of the letters or the medallion since his first ship to England had been attacked by pirates. Wherever they were they must have been at the bottom of the sea, he thought glumly as he turned his head and nuzzled his nose into Peggy's hair.
It was so long since those letters he had almost forgotten their contents. The one he remembered the most had been the one with the medallion, as it was the last one he ever received.
He wondered if Peggy had been mentioned in them. She had known his father for two years and had seemed fond of him as a friend. What strange luck she had that the first person she met after being abandoned by her crew had been her friend's son.
He still could not quite believe how she had not drowned to death after being thrown off a ship in the middle of a hurricane. Then there was how she had gotten thrown overboard by Jack's old crew. Yes, she could have wiggled out of her bonds before she hit the water, but how on earth did a ten-year-old girl survive being out on the open water without freezing to death or catching pneumonia?
Something still did not add up.
He frowned as he turned his head towards the window. The sky outside was lavender grey turning to a pale pink as the sun began peeking over the horizon line, illuminating the contents of the windowsill. On it, his brown vest had been folded next to the neat pile of Peggy's day clothes which was kept from flying about the place by a blue leather-bound book placed on top.
Will frowned.
When had Peggy brought this along? He knew she liked to read but he hardly thought they would have had any time to indulge given the urgent nature of their expedition.
Curiously he took the book in his hands and read the spine.
"Tales of the Deep." He murmured as he traced a line down to the author's name. Percival Stafford. Will had never heard of him. Then again, with how much he worked to cover up for his master's slack, Will barely had any time to read for pleasure in recent years.
He was literate, and for this, he silently thanked his dear late mother for her persistence in his education as well as Peggy for making sure to keep her bedroom stocked with books in their humble home.
Myths, Legends and Lore…Wait…why is this page bent?
He shifted slightly on his pillow to a semi-sitting position, doing his best to keep himself from jostling the still-sleeping Peggy draped over his chest as he opened the book to the marked page.
"The Cursed Treasure of Cortés…" he breathed, heart hammering and eyes widening as he looked up at the illustration above the chapter title.
"What in God's name…"
"Dead man tell no tales!"
Peggy shivered as the call of Paulie the parrot echoed eerily over the deck.
They had done it. They had reached the Isla de Muerte. Against all odds, they had caught up to the Black Pearl and found her berth.
And what a terrible place it was too.
The entire cove was littered with shipwrecks, half hidden by a foul thick fog and sharp gnarly rocks that jutted out ready to pierce any vessel that veered a millimetre off course. The unearthly chill that had nearly frozen her last night had not abated. If anything, it had increased, and with it, the wind whipped about haphazardly, making the sails luff loudly above their heads. It was so chill, it seemed as if not even the warm Caribbean sun dared touch this accursed land.
The isle of death. A fitting name. She folded her arms across her chest as she spotted a dark shadow bobbing in distant waters. A dark shadow with three tall masts.
The Black Pearl. She was just as magnificent as Peggy remembered her. Her sooty black wood and furled sails stood out starkly against the grey rock behind her like a black ghost.
Peggy felt her heart swell and ache as she remembered clambering its rigging for a taste of the morning sun and the fresh sea spray. She remembered her tiny nook just off the captain's quarters, all black like the rest of the ship, with her little pouch of trinkets. Nothing had been of much monetary value in that pouch. Only a few shells, baubles and charms she collected from their journeys.
Hector must have chucked them away by now.
She thought bitterly.
She glanced back at Jack at the helm. He too was gazing at the Pearl. In all the time she knew him, it was the most subdued and serious she had ever seen the pirate. His eyes were dark with wrath and full of desperate longing as if he were looking at a long-lost love.
And in a way he was. Jack adored the Black Pearl more than any other thing in his life. She was his pride and joy, his greatest treasure. Barbossa might have stolen her for ten years, but to Jack, the Pearl would always be his.
Peggy felt a warm body settle beside her at the railing and looked up to see the rest of the crew had joined her by the railing as well, with Will right beside her. He was squinting at the Black Pearl as if trying to scan it for any sign of a head of blonde hair.
"So that's the Black Pearl?" He muttered.
Peggy nodded, trying to swallow the lump in her throat before it could consume her. She was glad when Gibbs strode up and patted her on the shoulder.
"Puts a chill in the bones, how many honest sailors have been claimed by this passage." Gibbs nodded before turning to Peggy. "Captain wants to see ye at the helm."
"On it." She mumbled and quickly backed away from the railing.
Will watched her go, his gaze straying to the captain at the helm even as he carefully adjusted their course with the aid of that broken compass of his. Or was it broken? Will assumed it worked but was unsure if it followed the conventions of basic common sense…much like its owner.
"How is it that Jack came by that compass?" Will asked Gibbs as they left the crowded railing.
"Not a lot's known about Jack Sparrow 'fore he showed up in Tortuga with a mind to go after the treasure of Isla de Muerte." Gibbs grunted as he adjusted a piece of rigging and took a swig from his hip flask "That was before I met him. Back when he was Captain of the Black Pearl."
"What?!" Will's gaze snapped back to Jack and Peggy, both talking in urgent hushed voices. "They failed to mention that." Deep in his gut, hot anger bubbled like a cauldron. Just when he thought he had it all figured out, she lied to him again.
Well, sort of lied, he told himself bitterly. She had told him she was Jack's Cabin Girl, and she had been honest about the night she had been thrown overboard…he just had not bothered to ask what ship they'd been on. That was on him.
Something of his frustration must have shown in his face because Gibbs hastily tucked his rum away and coughed.
"I know it's been a bit topsy turvy for ye lad, but don't be too harsh on the lass." Gibbs clapped him on the shoulder. "Given how it ended up I don't blame her for playing things closer to the vest now. The same goes for Jack. And a hard-learned lesson it was." Will frowned back at the older man, his irritation lowering to a simmer as curiosity got the better of him.
"What happened to them?" he asked quietly, hoping he sounded more casual than he felt.
"Well, I ain't too sure meself." Gibbs shrugged as he led Will over to a quieter portion of the ship away from prying ears. "I only know what Jack has told me and he wasn't too big on the details since he and I were well…rather enjoying a large barrel of rum at the time. From what he told me, he found Peggy stowed away in an apple barrel two days after restocking supplies at Tortuga. Not sure how such a little girl managed to wriggle her way into becoming one of the crew, but she must've made a mighty impression on Jack because he ain't never taken a cabin boy before that or since."
"She can be pretty forceful when she wants to get her way. Even when we were children." Will snorted and Gibbs grimaced.
"I don't doubt it. Now 'twas around the end of those two years that everything went ter hell. See three days out on the venture, the first mate comes to Jack and says, 'Everything's an equal share. That should mean the location of the treasure too.' So, Jack gives up the bearings. From what I made out of Jack's mumblin's, Peggy did try to warn 'im against the idea and the two of them ended up having a massive flamin' row over it."
There was a pause as Will and Gibbs looked back at the helm. Peggy and Jack were still talking in hushed voices, arguing softly amongst themselves, their faces unnaturally tense even as they both glanced sidelong at the Pearl.
"I'll bet he regrets not listening to her now." Will turned back to Gibbs whose expression darkened like thunderclouds.
"Aye, I have no doubt he does. Mind you, I don't know how she knew somethin' was going to go wrong, maybe she had heard mutterings or maybe it was just intuition, or maybe the rumours were true and she really is a witch with ungodly powers-" Will glared at the man indignantly but was ignored as the story continued "-but that night, there was a mutiny. They bound and tossed Peggy overboard and then sailed for a day and a night with Jack in the brig before marooning him on an island and leavin' him to die. But not before he got mad with the heat."
"Ahh…so that's the reason for all the…" Will trailed off as he pretended to sway like Jack did whenever he was on land.
"Reason's got nothin' to do with it." Gibbs pulled him down to sit on a couple of crates. "Now Will, when a pirate's marooned he's given a pistol with a single shot. One shot. Well, that won't do much good huntin', nor to be rescued. But after three weeks of a starving belly and thirst, that pistol starts to look really friendly. But Jack, he escaped the island, and he still has that single shot. Only, he won't use it, though save on one man. His mutinous first mate-"
"-Barbossa,"
"Aye."
Will stopped for a moment, remembering the conversation from a few mornings ago.
Now everything was starting to make sense.
Will grimaced as he remembered how Peggy had spoken about the Black Pearl after its attack on Port Royal. Of course, she could guess its movements since she had sailed on it before. It was also no wonder she was so hostile towards Jack when they had freed him.
The last she had seen of the man he had broken her trust and let her get tossed to her death for the sake of his bruised pride. Despite his annoyance at being kept in the dark once more, Will had to admit, that he understood her unwillingness to talk about such a painful topic. Despite working together for the last few days, he had yet to see either the pirate or his cabin girl resolve whatever hurt feelings they had over the topic.
And Jack…that single shot…
His vow to kill Barbossa with that pistol and take back the Pearl was the only reason Will was alive after their first fight. It was the only motivation Jack had to aid him in his quest to find Elizabeth. Why else would such a self-serving man ever agree to help in such a heroic cause?
But just as much as it answered so much, Gibbs's story only brought even more questions to mind.
"…how did Jack get off the island?" Will asked.
"Well, I'll tell ya." Gibbs leaned forward, more excited than before "He waded out into the shallows and he waited there three days and nights. Till all manner of sea creatures came, acclimated to his presence. Then, on the fourth morning, he roped a couple of sea turtles, lashed them together and made a raft!"
"Sea turtles?" Will quirked a brow. That was…the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. What was in that rum these pirates were drinking that they'd believe was such an utter tripe?
"Aye sea turtles." Gibbs looked mighty pleased with the story, it was a favourite of his to tell and Will had to admit for an absurd yarn it was somewhat compelling. Yet he could not resist the urge to mockingly ask:
"What did he use for rope?"
It took Will all he had not to chuckle as the older pirate desperately struggled to figure out a good answer. For all his dramatics, he had not thought about a reasonable explanation for such a basic problem with his tale.
However, the poor man was spared the trouble as a shadow loomed over him and Will. The blacksmith looked up to see Jack standing with an odd frown, Peggy just behind him looking as exasperated and bitter as Will felt.
"Human hair." He grunted at Will's questioning look "From me back."
Will grimaced in disgust along with Peggy who rolled her eyes as Jack commanded the crew to let go of the anchor.
"Young mister Turner, Pegsy and I are to go ashore." The pirate added as he sauntered off, though Will did not miss the dirty look he threw over his shoulder at Peggy who only smiled coldly in return.
"You managed to convince him?" Will muttered as the pirate meandered to where the men were arranging a longboat.
"It was a battle and a half but I managed." Peggy sighed before adding with a small mutinous mutter. "He's still just as stubborn a lout as ever."
"It will be dangerous," Will admitted earning himself an exhausted scoff.
"It would be more dangerous to let you go alone. Hector Barbossa is not a man to be trifled with. I should know…" She sucked in a deep breath and did her best to suppress the shiver that ran through her.
However, Will saw it and his heart grew heavy. As peeved as he was he could not help but feel pity.
"You don't have to come if you don't want to." He murmured and coughed quickly as she glowered at him. "I do not doubt your skills, but I can see how upsetting it must be to be so near those that once hurt you."
Her glare softened to a grimace.
"You're right…I'm not fond of the idea of seeing Barbossa or his lot again." She mumbled folding her arms tight "But I'd be even more upset if I just sat back and did not do everything in my power to help."
Will nodded. Though he disliked the idea of letting her near such vile scum, it was not like he had a leg to stand on. It was that very same determination that led him to break the law to save Elizabeth in the first place.
"Oy! You two hurry up! We don't have all day!" Jack snapped as Gibbs rushed up beside him and whispered.
"What if the worst should happen?
"Keep to the code," Jack muttered and Gibbs nodded fervently.
"Aye, the code."
Code? What code?
But even as Will turned to ask he saw that Peggy was already in the longboat securing a lantern to the prow.
It would seem his questions would have to wait once again.
The house along the river was dark and lit by candlelight.
At a long wooden dining table, laden heavily with trinkets and jars filled with strange liquids and ingredients, a woman sat hunched and muttering softly.
She was a strange woman, dark-skinned with black dots tattooed below her equally dusky eyes. Brown dreadlocked hair obscured her face from view like tangled seaweed as she read the pile of bones scattered about a large hand-drawn map.
Dark blue lips pulled back to reveal blackened teeth as she traced a long slender finger across a piece of bone that had landed in the middle of an open patch of water where no island had been marked.
"Suh yuh 'ave find yuh way back tuh Jack, little pearl." The woman sneered to herself. "Yuh try tuh run but di ocean ave ways of calling all its daughtas back tuh its watas."
She reached up to her throat to stroke a thin gold chain on which a spiralling pointed conch seashell hung and rested over her breast. The cold victorious light in her eyes hardened as she turned the trinket over in her fingers.
To others, it was just a meaningless trinket, but the woman knew such things were probably more valuable than any gold coin in a treasure trove. As she traced her finger along the hole at the top, a soft singing filled the air of the house. The tune was sweet but sad, like a lullaby of old. For years the owner of it had not sung it for it had been in the keeping of the woman at the table.
Safe she had kept it and safely she would give it back, once the fair price had been paid.
Songs and music were the most precious gift of the sea gods, and not even the woman dared steal them wrongfully away from their owners without fear of ancient wrath descending upon her mortal form.
"Him ave taken suh much from di both of us. An' him seeks tuh tek away more from yuh even now." Her fingers tightened their grip on the shell in her hands. "Nuh worry little pearl. Suh lang as yuh stick tuh yuh path, all bi fine an yuh ago free. Yuh only haff to remember yah promise to mi. Or else there bi no ocean or lands leave fir yuh tuh hide from mi wrath!"
There had been silence in the long boat as Will and Peggy sat at the front and Jack rowed them into the caves of Isla de Muerta. The foul mood between the captain and his cabin girl had not abated even with Will in the boat as a buffer.
There was no teasing, no snarky banter. Just tense, unnatural silence that only fuelled Will's unease with their surroundings. Indeed, Will thought the air of hostility had only thickened with his presence.
Was he the reason they had argued? Peggy had been rather protective of him ever since the start of their venture, rarely letting him and Jack be alone together for more than a few minutes at a time.
Will could not help but wonder if it had anything to do with what he had read in Percival Stafford's book.
While he was sure it must be a ridiculous load of cock and bull, that illustration had been most haunting indeed. It was almost an exact replica of the medallion his father had sent to him all those years ago. But how could it be an illustration in a book? And how on earth could it have been cursed?
Did his father know it was cursed before he sent it to his son? Will barely knew the man, but he was sure his father would never have sent him something so wretched that could hurt him.
The blacksmith still felt himself shiver as he remembered the author's words.
"Begun by blood spilled in greed by thine hands, and so by the blood of you or your own it shall be undone in sacrifice. That is the only way for the curse to be lifted for those who dared take the cursed Treasure of Cortez from its resting place"
Will had heard stories of the heathen gods of these ancient tribes demanding human sacrifices, but surely that was not what Jack had planned for him. Or was it?
Jack had asked him how far he'd be willing to go to save Elizabeth, and Will had not lied when he said he would die for her. He loved her, he would do anything for her.
And yet, a small part of him, a tiny pathetic piece of self-preservation could not help but feel scared at the prospect now that it was so close.
Well, he supposed it must be all a part of the natural fear response-
"What's that?!" he gasped as something moved in the corner of his eye, gripping at Peggy's arm as she turned the lantern towards the source of the motion.
They sighed as they caught sight of a large crab clicking on a nearby rock, only to gape as it scuttled to the side where a horrifying skeletal corpse lay with a sword sticking out of it. Despite how clean most of the skull was, it must have been a recent kill because the corpse still had hair, and the crab was still picking bits of something red from one of the outstretched bony hands.
Will could not blame Peggy for shutting her eyes tight. The sight was almost enough to make him throw up over the side.
"What…What code is Gibbs to keep to if the worst should happen?" he coughed back at Jack who was busy rowing.
"The pirate's code." The pirate shrugged, sparing a disdainful glance at the disgusting display and barely batting an eye. "Any man who falls behind is left behind."
"Ain't that the truth." Peggy snorted bitterly, grimacing as Jack's back hit her own with a rather large stroke of the paddles oh-so-accidentally.
"So speaks the woman who left me to the mercy of that bloody Commodore."
"The way I see it, I was merely bestowing the same courtesy you bestowed upon me." Peggy snapped. "You left me to die at the hands of old Hector. I left you to die at the hands of the Royal Navy. We're both square."
Will stared at Peggy in alarm. Petty and harsh she may have been sometimes, but he had never thought she was capable of that level of cruelty, no matter how justified it may seem.
"Well, ain't you just the cutthroat little pirate. Old Hector will be so proud." Jack sneered.
"No heroes amongst thieves, eh?" Will cut in, trying desperately to lighten the mood. He had an inkling that if the pair were allowed to continue, feelings would get hurt and swords might get drawn or someone might get thrown overboard. The last thing they needed was for their enemy to see them so divided.
Thankfully for Will, his prayers were answered as Jack turned his ire upon him instead and said with a scoff.
"You know lad, for having such a bleak outlook on pirates you're well on your way to becoming one. You rescued a pirate and hid her in your house for years, sprung a man from jail, commandeered a ship of the fleet, sailed with a buccaneer crew out of Tortuga…" he paused as something shimmered beneath the boat.
The three of them all looked down at the source of the twinkling lights.
Will felt his heart catch in his chest. Coins…piles upon piles of gold and silver coins were scattered about under the water flecked with many brightly coloured jewels and tokens. Peggy's eyes bulged as she caught sight of a massive golden cross slide down as one of the oars nudged it and a ruby necklace out of place.
"…and you're completely obsessed with treasure." Jack finished his sentence, his mocking tones snapping Will and Peggy out of their trance just in time for their boat to hit something solid.
"That's not true!" Will snarled as Jack leapt past him and onto the sandy bank they had found, "I am not obsessed with treasure."
"Not all treasure is silver and gold mate," Jack murmured and to Will's surprise, the pirate's eyes flickered briefly to Peggy who was scanning their surroundings warily.
Theirs was not the only boat docked on the dark bank of the cave. Several other long boats were run aground, all made of darker, scuffed wood like the black ship they belonged to.
To Will's surprise, Peggy walked over to the vessels and began taking their oars from within, along with a coil of rope.
"So they can't follow us." She explained simply as she began carefully piling up her bounty and tying it all together. "I'll find something to weigh them down and sink them."
Will sighed in relief, glad for her foresight. At least now they could buy time to escape without fearing a pursuit.
"Best tie up the other boats while we're at it," Jack muttered darkly to Will who quickly grabbed another coil of rope from another boat and began tying the bows of the rowboats together. The cave system they had travelled had been extremely narrow, barely wide enough for one long boat to drift through.
Add the missing oars to the mix and the crew of the Black Pearl would have a very difficult time getting out by themselves.
"Hold it still-There! Got it!" Peggy grunted as she pulled the stevedore's knot good and tight around the bundle of oars and rocks she had secured in a bundle with her vest.
With a grunt of effort, she and Will carefully slid the large heavy parcel down into the water, doing their best not to make a splash or get more than an ankle depth in. Luckily for them, any sound they made was muffled by the sounds of chanting, shouts and loud stomping of feet.
Wait stomping feet?
Peggy and Will both looked up to see Jack slip up a nearby rock and peer over the top.
They quickly followed his lead, their hearts hammering as their eyes were met with an impressive and terrifying sight.
Peggy gasped.
She had seen treasure troves before in her travels with Jack, but never had she seen one quite so opulent as this.
Pile upon piles of coins, jewels, jewellery, chests and statues covered the floor to such an extent there were barely any bare spots of rock left. Amidst the dips and valleys between each mound, grubby and vicious-looking pirates stood with their hands raised or weapons drawn as they hollered and hooted in excitement, their gazes all drawn to the biggest pile of treasure at the far end of the cavern.
On it, was an ancient stone chest, covered in carvings of skulls and bones that shone under the light of the one opening in the cave roof that let in light from the sun above.
Though the light around the Isla de Muerta had been dim on the Interceptor, in the caves it was almost blinding.
So, blinding that Peggy almost missed the sight of the two figures standing next to the stone chest.
One was a woman, blonde-haired, pretty and pale, wearing a dark crimson dress and a frightened expression on her face. Still, she stood as still as she could, determined to maintain some dignity despite her obvious fear for her life.
Hang in there Lizzy. Peggy gulped as her eyes drifted to the person beside her, only for her gut to sink like a stone.
It was a man, tall and older than Jack, with a scraggly fair beard and a large black hat with a half-ruined plume sticking out the side. His gnarled hand was gesticulating dramatically as he struck a formidable pose on a nearby jutting piece of rock.
"Hector." She breathed, chest constricting tight as if a snake had her in its coils as the crew of the Black Pearl cheered Captain Hector Barbossa into his speech.
"Gentlemen! The time has come! Our Salvation is nigh!"
Another cheer and Elizabeth winced where she stood. Peggy could not blame her friend. She had been on the receiving end of one of Barbossa's rousing speeches herself and he always had a way of making his prey feel pathetic and small while riling up his men's bloodthirst beyond a hundred per cent.
"Our torment is near an end!"
"Elizabeth." Will breathed and almost would have bolted forward had Peggy not grabbed his hand tight to stop him.
"Wait."
"For ten years we've been tested and tried by that little red-haired witch's curse! And each man-jack of you here has proved his metal a hundred times over! And a hundred times again!"
Of course, blame the ten-year-old red-head for all your troubles why don't you? Peggy rolled her eyes as the men cheered their captain once again, several of them yelling curses and swears.
"Suffered I have!"
"I'll kill that little witch!"
Will glanced at Peggy whose grip on his hand had turned vice-like. He remembered Gibb's words from before.
"-or maybe the rumours were true, and she really is a witch with ungodly powers."
But what had Peggy done to earn herself the title of witch? Her red hair couldn't be the only reason…or was this Barbossa just using her as a scapegoat to rally his men?
"Punished we were the lot of us! Disproportionate to our crimes!" the pirate captain snarled earning himself a jeer of anger mixed in with the cheers as he raised a booted foot and kicked off the lid of the stone chest.
Peggy nearly stopped breathing as a glimmer of gold, far brighter than any of the treasure in the hall caught her eye from within the stone casket.
There was gold…and then there was GOLD. Never in all her years had she seen gold like that! So fair and lovely it was almost foul to look upon.
"The Cursed Treasure of Cortez himself!" Barbossa slid a gnarly, almost loving hand over the cursed treasure. "Every last piece that went astray we have returned, save for this!"
He pointed sharply to Elizabeth and Will nearly leapt from his spot again.
"Jack!"
"Will no!" Peggy hissed as she and Jack dragged the struggling blacksmith back down from their vantage point to hide behind the stone. To Peggy's dismay, several coins slid disturbed, the tinkling sound echoing off the rocky walls.
"Wait for the opportune moment!" Jack hissed at Will as he dragged the lad back down into the shadow, before turning back to Peggy. "You Pegs, get back to the boat and get it ready to set off!"
"And when is the opportune moment?!" Will snapped as Peggy quickly dashed back to her post "When it's of greatest profit to you?"
Jack paused and sucked in a deep calming breath to steady his already frayed nerves.
It had been a tough morning for him, what with the rum getting rationed, and Pegsy getting all snippy and insubordinate with him. And now here he was, barely able to get his plan into motion because the whelp thought he could get snarky with him.
When all this is over I am buying a whole casket of rum and ditching this boy into the ocean myself. If Pegsy feels that bad about it she can bloody hell join him.
"May I ask you something?" Jack turned and walked straight into the lad's face "Have I ever given you reason not to trust me? Now, do us a favour, I know it's difficult for you, but please stay here and try not to do anything stupid. " Again. He added the last word in his head as he meandered around the rock.
Will looked at Peggy who sighed as she caught sight of the stubborn gleam in his eye.
"Go, do what you must. Just…be careful." She added in a low whisper, her voice hoarse.
"You too." Will cupped her neck and leaned down to murmur. "If something happens to me, take Elizabeth and return to the Interceptor without me."
"Will-"
"Promise me Peg-"
"No, I won't!" Peggy glared at him. "Because it's never going to come to that. All three of us are going to get out of here together!"
Will sighed but did not argue. Instead, he planted a firm peck on the top of her head, relishing in the smell of salt and spice from her hair for a moment as it soothed his heightened nerves.
"In case I don't make it." He muttered only to wince as Peggy shoved something long and heavy into his arms.
"You will make it!" She returned the kiss with a firm one on his forehead before pushing him away.
Will looked down and saw she had one oar she had missed from her raid of the boats was now in his hands.
"You sure?" He frowned as she pointedly glared at the back of Jack's silhouette as it crept into the shadows.
"If that's what needs doing, then you need to do it." She shrugged "Even if you don't, it's still a strong weapon. Now go! Quick!"
Despite his surprise at her ruthless practicality, Will did not object to the idea.
Though he wanted to save Elizabeth, he did not sign up for being Jack's ticket to revenge.
Peggy felt her gut churn guiltily as she watched Will stalk behind Jack's shadow, the oar raised to strike him down.
Perhaps it was a bit cruel of her to stab Jack in the back like this, but this way they would both get what they wanted. Jack would get back on his beloved Pearl without having to fear being caught by the Navy, and she could get Will and Elizabeth safely back to Port Royal without being seen associating with him.
That may earn Will and her enough points with the Governor and the Commodore to stop them both from dancing the hempen jig.
As for Barbossa, he would keep Jack alive, if only to sate his curiosity, not to mention it would keep him off Peggy's trail until she could get a safe distance away. The last thing she wanted was the Captain of the Black Pearl to figure out her greatest secret. It was bad enough the Devil was using it to tie her down into one awful existence. If Barbossa found it out, she'd be sliced, diced and served up on a silver platter before she even made it to the Locker.
She had so far managed to chalk her near brush with death to coincidence and luck with Jack, but Barbossa was not quite so patient when dealing with riddles, especially those concerning who he thought had wronged him. And for some stupid, bizarre reason, Peggy was ranked very high on that kill list.
But why?
What had she said that was so terrible that it could be misconstrued as a curse? What in Poseidon's name made the crew of the Black Pearl think she had cursed them?
She pushed the boat gently back into the water, making sure to hold onto it so it would not float away and doing her best to not let her feet sink beyond ankle depth into the water.
She remembered cussing them all out and swearing a lot. Who wouldn't swear and curse if they had been accosted in their bed just as they were trying to sleep?
She remembered yelling to Jack to help her, to save her from Koehler and Twigg's pawing hands as they bound her in tight, rough rope that she could still feel over her wrists and legs. She remembered Barbossa kneeling before her and hissing softly in her face.
"Just so ye know, it's nothing personal lass. Just business. When you mutiny it's best to clean up ship as best ye can. Can't have the old captain's scraps lying about the place and causin' trouble now can we?"
She remembered spitting in his face and saying:
"Go ahead throw me overboard! Nothin' will change the fact that you are a miserable old codfish! You can steal as much gold as you want! You can take all the beautiful women in the world, and feast on every goddamn apple under the sun, but nothing will ever make you feel whole! Not now or ever again! All you'll have is your misery and yer bones! Nothin' will ever be enough to quench it!"
But that had not been a magic curse. That had just been her running her mouth off because she was scared. She couldn't even do any magic! The only thing magical about her was something she could not even control and it only affected her and no one else!
Whatever happened to make Koehler's arm turn to bone in the moonlight was NOT her doing.
That had to be the Curse of Cortez. The old conquistador had many cursed items he had left behind in his wake including, it was said, a magic sword in which his very soul had been imprisoned.
Peggy did not know whether to believe the story about the sword, but after what she had seen during the attack on Port Royal, she was not so sure of anything anymore.
I mean look at me, she mused sadly as she looked down to her wrist where a black ring of ink flashed out from her pale freckled skin. How could I of all people not believe in curses when I am marked by the devil himself?...not to mention all the other crazy shit I've been through to get here today.
Her dour thoughts were interrupted by the scuffling of footsteps, and she looked up quickly, one hand flying to the sword at her hip while the other kept the boat still.
"Will! Lizzy!" She sighed in relief as the familiar form of Will came rushing from the shadows, followed closely by Elizabeth.
Both were drenched to the bone, Elizabeth looking out of breath as she held up the hem of her drenched scarlet dress and petticoat to her knees so she could match Will's frantic pace.
When she saw Peggy her face brightened with joy and confusion.
"Peggy, what are you doing here?" she gasped as Will pushed her towards Peggy who ushered her into the boat
"Helping rescue you of course! Can't let this one have all the fun." Peggy grunted as she pushed the lantern into her hands. "go to the front and hold this Will-"
"I'll be fine, you get in first. I'll row!" Will grabbed the boat and shoved hard at Peggy's shoulder to get her moving.
Peggy did not refuse, if only because she was too afraid for her body to sink any further into the water than was necessary.
Anything up to the knees was fine, but beyond that and…well…there would be too much explaining to do and a great deal of pain on her end. So far she had been able to avoid getting fully dunked in the water and she preferred to keep it that way unless she had no choice.
It did not take them long to get away from the cavern with Will at the oars. Peggy meanwhile had swapped spots with Elizabeth so that she was at the front with the lantern guiding the boat along what little of the path she could remember while her friend was keeping a watch for any followers.
Luckily for them, no pirates were on their tail, though they could hear lots of angry shouting and swearing echo throughout the caves.
"THE OARS?!"
"WHERE ARE THE OARS?!"
"THE OARS HAVE GONE MISSING! FIND THEM!"
"BLAST THAT MISERABLE WRETCH!"
Peggy smirked smugly.
Whatever happened next, at least she gave that old codfish Barbossa one last taste of petty vengeance.
Jack Sparrow's head was spinning, and aching, but mostly spinning, as he stumbled through the caves of Isla de Muerta trying and failing to find his bearings.
He was vaguely aware of the shouting and the thundering of many footsteps but did not pay them any more attention.
That whelp. That blasted good-for-nothing troublesome whelp had dared knock him out from behind with an oar!
Where had he gotten the oar? Peggy had bundled them all up and thrown them in the…
Jack paused and groaned to himself softly.
Ah…that little brat. Jack took a deep gulp of air as he staggered into a wall of rock, one hand gripping the oar that had hit him tight to brace himself on his feet. Of course…of course, SHE would encourage such disobedience and backstabbing. She and the whelp had been feeding off one another's deviousness the entire voyage. Or had the whelp just been following her orders?
Jack gagged as he remembered the tender way that lad had kissed Peggy's head goodbye.
Jack did not know whether to be disgusted by the loving gesture or impressed with how deeply Peggy had sunk her claws into the boy.
I'll give her credit; she's done a good job bending him to her will to do her dirty work.
Jack would have been proud if he weren't so annoyed by the splitting headache.
"YOU!" a man's voice gasped, and Jack looked up to see a pair of very familiar faces.
Two men, one bald on top and short, and the other taller with a dopey mop and a wooden eye were staring at him as if they had just seen a ghost.
It did not take long for more men to notice Jack as the man with the wooden eye pointed at him aghast.
Ah, here we go. Jack swallowed hard, doing his best to blink his double vision back to normal as many swords and guns were pointed in his direction.
"You're supposed to be dead!" the shorter bald man shouted.
"Am I not?" Jack slurred looking down at himself. If he was dead and the whelp had killed him then this was a very odd place to end up in the afterlife. Given the pounding of his skull, he was quite sure he was still alive. "Oh, pardon me,"
He tried to turn tail and stumble back the way he came, only to find several more pirates blocking his path, their swords pointed to his throat.
He turned back again towards the first two that had found him. What were their names again? He could never remember, but he knew their faces.
"Puh-la-lem." He mumbled as he pressed his fingers into the muzzle of the shorter man's flintlock.
No wait that's not it. What was that word again? Gods me skull. When I get my hands on that Turner I'm going to give him a proper hiding.
"Puh-lu-luh-lu-lay-lool!" he tried again. The pirates around him all looked at one another in bewilderment.
Okay so clearly he was not making much sense. Goddammit, what was that infernal word?
"Pa-leh-nee. Parsnip…parsley…par-par-partner-pardner-"
"Parley?" The man with the wooden eye offered helpfully.
"Parley! That's the one! Parley!" Jack cried out victoriously. Finally! he knew it started with a P.
"Parley?!" the short man snarled at his wooden-eyed compatriot who shrunk into himself guiltily. "Damned to the depths whatever muttonhead thought up parley!"
"That would be the French." Jack offered as he pushed the gun nozzle back down again. "Latin-based of course. Inventors of mayonnaise."
"I like mayonnaise." Another pirate groaned sadly only to get shushed by his mates with a sharp elbow to the ribs.
"Take 'im to the captain!" The short pirate at the front snarled and several hands reached out to grab at Jack roughly.
Jack rolled his eyes but let them push him ahead. At least with them dragging him along he could concentrate on getting his feet to co-operate without worrying about the destination.
It did not take them long to find Barbossa, and Jack had to admit it was eery to see him again after all these years. Not because of the circumstances of their meeting, but because of the older pirate's face.
Yes, his face.
It had not changed even the slightest. Even if Barbossa had kept himself well with good food, good air and plenty of exercise, there would have been signs of him aging further during the ten years apart. But no. Jack could not see one extra wrinkle or scar on his old first mate's face that had not been there before the mutiny. It was as if the older man had been stuck frozen in time.
That's interesting. Jack thought as he caught sight of the chest of Cortez's treasure far off behind Barbossa's back.
"S'not possible!" Barbossa's lip curled; eyes wide as he gaped at Jack.
"Long time no see, Hector." Jack grinned as he was let go and leaned casually on his oar. His old crew had taken his gun and his sword from him during their journey, but he was not perturbed. He had gotten out of worse spots than this with less on him. One time he had almost managed to escape being knifed by the angry madame of a Tortugan brothel with barely any clothes on and his hands bound by a silk scarf, but that was a tale he could relive in his head another time. Right now, the sight of Hector Barbossa trying to right himself after a massive shock was very entertaining.
To his credit, the older pirate was hiding his discomposure quite well given the stressful circumstances, but Jack could see the ticking of the vein in his temple and the way the gnarled fingers twitched by his sides as he growled:
"How in the blazes did you get off that island?"
"When you marooned me on that godforsaken spit of land, you forgot one very important thing mate…" He paused for dramatic effect and was pleased when Barbossa and the rest of the crew craned their heads to listen intently. "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."
"Ah well, I won't be makin' that mistake, again." Barbossa sneered as he stepped into Jack's face, leering as he caught no sign of fear. "Gents you all remember Captain Jack Sparrow? Kill 'im!"
The crew around them all chuckled maliciously as they gleefully raised their weapons to fire or stab at their old captain.
Jack, however, was unphased by the threat.
Pegsy and that Whelp might have left him stranded, but he still had plenty of cards to play in his hand.
"The girl's blood didn't work did it?" He muttered at Barbossa's retreating form, enjoying the way the old pirate's spine stiffened warily, like a cat that had felt a disturbance in the air behind them.
"Hold yer fire!" Barbossa shouted before any trigger could be pulled, his head whipping around, blue eyes blazing with wrath.
There were groans and grumbles as many men stowed their pistols away. Though peeved that they were denied their chance at an easy kill, the crew of the Black Pearl loyally obeyed the order to stay their hands and watched with intrigue as Barbossa stalked back to Jack with a sneer.
"You know whose blood we need."
"I know whose blood you need." Jack grinned wickedly eyes sparkling as he added "And…I know where to find a certain red-haired witch…savvy?"
If you want to start playing around with the big boys Pegsy,
Jack thought as he watched Barbossa's lip curl in triumph.
Then you better be prepared to face the consequences.
Notes:
Dun-dun-duuun! Yeah, so that's chapter 7! Peggy and Will double-cross Jack and leave him to his own devices! I was considering leaving Peggy in the dark about Will's plan but she is a pirate. She's not exactly going to be a goodie two shoes. Will her crossing Jack be her undoing or will it work in her favour?
Please review if you enjoyed it and would like to see more, and keep following and faving for more
Thanks,
FuzzyBeta
Chapter 8: A Small Respite
Summary:
"It wasn't your blood they needed. It was my father's blood. My blood. The blood of a pirate."
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Elizabeth Swann was a young woman who prided herself in maintaining her composure in a crisis. She was the daughter of a Governor, a noblewoman by birth and rank. She was expected to have grace, dignity and poise befitting her station. All of it cemented with years upon years of training and education.
Yet, as she sat in the rowboat and saw the caves of Isla de Muerta become smaller and smaller with each pull of the oars, all her strength seemed to drain out of her like water through a large sieve.
With a heavy sigh of exhaustion and relief, she slumped in her seat, earning herself worried looks from her two rescuers.
"Lizzy?" a hand reached out to touch her shoulder gently. "Are you alright?"
Elizabeth looked up into the concerned freckled face of Peggy Blake and gave a small smile.
"I'm fine." She mumbled, vaguely aware of the way the oars stilled for a moment as Will Turner paused his rowing to look back at her. "Really, I am…I…I'm just relieved…and a little tired."
Peggy sighed in relief and gave a pointed look over Elizabeth's shoulder. At once the oars started to rotate once more, though Elizabeth could not help but notice their pace was a lot faster than before.
She winced as she felt her hand throb and looked down to see a very red and angry cut on her palm oozing blood down her wrist.
"Here." Peggy quickly took her hand, being careful not to speak too loudly.
There was a rip of material, and Elizabeth stared in surprise at the now torn hem of the long dark blue and white sash wrapped around her fellow woman's waist. Her eyes then drifted down to her legs, garbed in what had once been cream trousers that were now greyed and looking rough, and then up to her body where a man's white shirt that was much too large for her had been tucked into her pants held up by belts on which a cutlass had been stowed at the ready. Her hair too had been tied back in a long fishtail plait with a blue bandanna covering the top of her scalp.
Elizabeth blinked. In all the excitement to escape the pirates of the Black Pearl, she had not noticed her friend's strange appearance. She looked almost like a pirate in that getup. But no that was silly.
Peggy flushed with embarrassment as she noticed her stare.
"I know…not quite the outfit of the season" the redhead mumbled as she hurriedly finished tying her wound shut.
"I don't know I'd say you're better dressed than I am for the occasion." Elizabeth smiled, though it came out more as a grimace as she remembered the night she had received the garment she now wore.
Captain Barbossa's sordid tale and the curse she had seen under the light of the half-moon.
She shivered as she glanced over her shoulder at Will. He was sitting with his back to her as he rowed, the wet sleeves of his shirt clinging to his muscles that flexed with each row.
Elizabeth blushed and turned her face back to Peggy.
To think that of all the people who would come to rescue her from the clutches of such foul and wretched men it would be William Turner.
It was not Commodore James Norrington or the Royal Navy.
It was Will. Her dearest friend…the man she…no…she was being silly again. Even if William did care about her as she did for him it would never be possible. Their station in life could not allow it.
And yet…he had still come for her…to save her.
With Peggy. Elizabeth had to remind herself firmly as she attempted to school her expression back to something more acceptable.
Yes, she could not forget Peggy, another dear and fiercely loyal friend who was smirking at her with fond amusement.
Elizabeth felt her cheeks darken to crimson. Goodness, she must look such a soppy fool mooning over Will so blatantly. It was shameful, what would her father say?
Thankfully Peggy was tactful enough not to comment on the matter and instead turned back around in her seat to face their destination with a small call. "Don't worry, we're nearly there! Hey! Throw us a line!"
It was, to Elizabeth's tremendous surprise, the Interceptor, docked a few meters away.
Had Norrington and his men come for her after all? If so, then why had he permitted Will and Peggy to go into the caves without him or his officers? Why not just storm the pirate's ship with all his men?
Unless he was aware of the dreaded curse and did not want to take such a massive risk of casualties?
Her surprise only mounted as she caught sight of a few very scruffy faces over the side of the ship throwing a heavy rope over the side for Peggy to grab and tow them in.
Just what was going on?
Her questions were answered as Peggy clambered up a rope ladder and held out a hand to pull her up while Will gave her a boost from below, being careful not to touch her anywhere inappropriate.
It took Elizabeth a couple of tugs, her waterlogged red dress weighing her down so much that she needed another set of hands to help haul her aboard.
A very grubby set of hands.
Elizabeth gasped as she took in her new surroundings.
It was the Interceptor; she knew the rigging and the deck well from her father's inspections. But who were all these shabby, ill-kept men? And woman. There was one woman of African descent there too, with very sharp wary eyes and a large floppy hat.
They look just like…oh no…
"Not more pirates." She clung tight to Peggy who sighed and petted her arm even as a new voice called out and made her jump.
"Welcome aboard Miss Elizabeth!"
Elizabeth turned to face the man who so brazenly addressed her and was met with the familiar face of…
"Mister Gibbs?" She frowned. Could it be the same scruffy, rough-spoken officer that had sailed with her and her father on the crossing from England? His mutton chops and hair had gone grey and his brow was more weathered and wrinkled.
But the kind twinkle in his eyes was still there, though it dimmed slightly as he looked down ashamedly at his toes.
"Aye, that be me! Hey boy where be Jack?!" he called as Will finally clambered up onto the deck panting for breath as he leaned against the railing to catch his breath.
Elizabeth looked at Will in shock.
Jack? Jack who?
Wait a moment…pirates…the Interceptor…Oh good lord William what did you do?
"Jack? Jack Sparrow?" She stared aghast at Will who for some reason, had a lot of trouble meeting the older sailor's eye as he muttered:
"He fell behind." he glanced sidelong at Peggy.
She too was looking quite uncomfortable but hid it better as she turned her face down to the ground, her lips pursed sadly.
There was silence as the crew digested the grim news, their faces contemplative as they turned to look at Gibbs who sucked in a deep bracing breath.
"Keep to the code!" he shouted looking hard at Peggy who nodded resolutely.
"Keep to the code."
Sighing with relief, Peggy wrapped an arm around Elizabeth and began to steer her below deck as the dark-skinned woman in the hat began barking orders to weigh anchor and get a move on.
"Come on Lizzy, you must be tired."
"Wait just a moment Peggy." Gibbs grabbed Peggy by the arm. "You and I need to talk."
Elizabeth frowned in worriment at the stern tone in Gibbs's voice. Just who did he think he was to manhandle a woman in such a way?
She opened her mouth to speak but Peggy quickly cut over the top of her with a pointed look at Will who likewise seemed very concerned for her welfare.
"Take her to the galley Will. I'll join you in a bit."
Will nodded, though he seemed hesitant to leave as he watched Gibbs steer Peggy away towards the captain's quarters and out of sight.
"What was that about?" She whispered to Will who bit his lip anxiously.
"I have no idea." His brow furrowed as he caught sight of her hand bleeding through the hurriedly tied makeshift blue binding. "Your hand-"
"Barbossa he…during the ritual," Elizabeth sucked in a deep breath as she tried to squash down the horrible memory of Barbossa holding that bloodstained stone knife. "It's not too deep I don't think. He only needed a few drops of blood."
Will's nostrils flared, his usually tender brown eyes flashing with wrath she had never seen before. But to his credit, he steadied himself as he placed a gentle hand on her back and steered her below deck, neither noticing a pair of blue-grey eyes staring forlornly at their backs as they descended out of sight.
So that's it then…
Peggy sighed as she watched Will and Elizabeth disappear out of sight. The blacksmith's eyes were the most tender and warm she had ever seen as he worriedly hovered over his shaken and injured lady love.
She knew it was foolish. She had known for a long time she never stood a chance with him. She had resigned herself long ago to the truth that she would always and only ever be his friend.
And yet despite all her attempts to steel herself, her heart ached to see him like this.
It did not help that memories of that morning were flooding her brain. She had woken up curled over his chest, her head over his heart, his arm wrapped around her keeping her close, his nose buried in her hair and his lips against her brow as the morning sun shone through the window and bathed them both in its warm glow. It had been so long since she had felt so safe and close to anyone. For one moment, one small shining moment, she thought maybe, just maybe, everything she had been through, all the hell and torment from the devil, all the lunacy with piracy, it had all been just a dream. A silly, absurd dream that would melt away as she woke up in the arms of the man who loved her.
Get yourself together Peggy! She snapped at herself mentally as she shook out her shoulders You always knew this would happen so suck it up! Suck it up and deal like you've always done. He's never loved you that way and he never will. It's always been Lizzy. You're just his friend and that's all you'll be. You've got to accept that and move on.
She was almost grateful for Gibbs's rough handling as he dragged her into the captain's quarters and shut the door with a hard snap.
At least it gave her something else to worry about.
And boy did her heart hammer as she caught sight of the suspicious gleam in Gibbs's eye as he looked her up and down.
She was in trouble now. Gibbs must have suspected something was wrong, she could see it in his face. Somehow he knew she and Will were up to something.
This wasn't good. The other pirates of the Interceptor might be willing to let bygones be bygones, but she had watched Gibbs and Jack closely over the last few days. They were not just allies but actual good mates, and Gibbs was a loyal man. He did not strike Peggy as the sort to take a slight to him or his friends lying down.
If she did not figure out something fast she and Will might both be locked up in the brig…or worse.
"Yer left Jack behind didn't ye?" the man grunted gruffly as she shut her eyes.
"Yes." Damn, and he was not the type for a preamble either. Fortunately for Peggy, she had busied herself thinking of excuses on their journey back to the Interceptor. What point was there in her and Will ditching Jack only to get killed by the crew? "As was planned."
"Planned?" Gibbs rubbed a hand on his jaw and Peggy nodded, hoping her face betrayed nothing of her nerves as she took the half-finished bottle of rum off the table and corked it as usual.
"We needed to save Elizabeth, but if Jack and Will went in guns-a-blazing there was too big a risk of Will getting killed off and Jack losing his leverage against Hector. While Jack kept Hector busy, it bought Will and me time to get Elizabeth to safety. Once Jack is captured, he should be able to board the Pearl and strike a bargain with Hector for Will's life without anyone else getting in the way."
"Ahh…" Gibbs nodded, and Peggy was relieved to see the older sailor's shoulders relax as 'comprehension' settled in. "Of course…makes sense I suppose. By Jack's standards at any rate."
Peggy nodded. Even she had to admit she was impressed with the lie. It did sound like something Jack would do on purpose. One could argue that it was perhaps a bit too self-sacrificing on his part but so long as she made it sound like he had a greater enigmatic scheme in mind Peggy knew no one would question it further…hopefully.
"I guess that's what you and Jack were arguin' about while at the helm." Gibbs quirked a brow and she shrugged.
"Bits and pieces. But I know Jack well enough to guess his intentions...or some of them." She muttered. This was true so she was safe on this front, but still, she had to be careful. She had to tell Will everything she said here so he could keep his mouth shut and not ruin everything. He was sometimes a bit too honest for his own good.
"It's a risky move. Lettin' himself get captured by that scurvy dog." Gibbs grunted running a hand through his greying hair. "You sure Barbossa wouldn't order his men to kill him?"
"Positive." Peggy nodded, "Hector might be bloodthirsty, but he can't resist a mystery. He'll keep Jack alive to figure out how he survived his marooning. Once he realises Jack has the final piece to ending his curse he'll keep him alive. But we need can outrun them today if we want to get out of this with our lives."
"Aye! I was worried about that." Gibbs rolled out a map onto the table and pointed at a spot in the open ocean far-far away from the mainland. "From what Jack showed me this mornin' this is where the Isla de Muerta is. As ye can see here our choice in hideaways is slim next to none."
"No small islands?" Peggy frowned. "Even a sandbank with shallow waters will be good for us. The Pearl will have trouble following us at speed."
"Only one. But we're already sailing in the wrong direction."
"Then we best change course as soon as possible. Once Hector and his men return to their ship they'll be after us like hunting dogs." Peggy muttered.
"Aye, I'll tell them now." Gibbs nodded, though he hesitated for a second. "Look Peggy-"
"Jack will be fine. He's gotten himself out of worse scrapes before. Speaking of scrapes I should…I should go make sure Will and Lizzy are both alright" Peggy gulped down hard on her semi-constricted throat, painfully aware of his sympathetic and pitying gaze.
"You sure you want to do that lass?" He muttered.
"Of course, why shouldn't I?"
"Because I saw the look on yer face, and, well, it's probably not my place to say this lass-"
"Then don't!" Peggy snapped; eyes fixed on the floor as she felt her eyes burn with the familiar sting of tears. "Look Gibbs…I… I know I probably look like a pathetic mess right now, but I don't need anyone's pity. Will's made his choice, and I'll respect it…no matter how much it stinks."
Gibbs opened his mouth to object but seemed to think better of it. Instead, he swallowed and nodded, patting the top of her head gently.
"Then all I'll say is this. I've been around the block a few times lass and I can tell ye, there are many a man out there who would kill to have a woman like ye by their side, bloody red hair and all. If Turner can't see yer value then he's one of the biggest, blindest fools I ever did meet."
"I don't know about that." Peggy snorted "I mean, I fell in love with him so I must be an even greater fool."
"Ehh, yer still young." Gibbs waved her off with a comforting smile "There's still time to find someone better. And yer will. Jack always said yer was a good lass worth the fight."
"He did?" Peggy blinked in surprise. "When was this?"
"Years ago, it was." Gibbs shrugged. "Around the time we first met. He had just escaped that blasted island. He spoke so fondly of ye, almost as fond as the Pearl. Said yer would've been a brilliant pirate if Barbossa had not killed ye and he was a fool for not listenin' to ye. Never saw a man look so guilty in his life."
"I…I never knew that" She mumbled hoarsely. "I mean he's always saying pretty words to get people on his side."
"Aye, he does, lass." Gibbs agreed with a fond roll of his eyes "But not when it comes to ye, I can tell yer that. He may not say it to yer face, but he's been happy yer back by his side. Perhaps the happiest I've seen him in years."
Now Peggy could feel her heart clenching for a completely different reason.
Jack saying it to her face was one thing. He had a way with words, and he knew how to smarmy up to people, especially women.
To hear him speak so highly of her to someone else like that…It did not sound like Jack. But Gibbs did not seem the sort of man to lie about something so personal like this.
It was so confusing.
There was a soft knock at the door and both Gibbs and Peggy looked up just in time to see a blonde head of hair poke through the door.
"Excuse me," Elizabeth mumbled with a surprising awkwardness as she slipped inside. "Forgive me. The crew said I was to take the captain's room to rest."
"Ah yes, Jack did say that." Gibbs straightened up, patting Peggy consolingly on the shoulder as he straightened himself up to leave. "I'll leave you two ladies to it then. I'll go see Annamaria about changin' course."
"Aye, you do that!" Peggy coughed, grateful her back was facing Elizabeth so she could wipe her eyes and nose as Gibbs left the room.
"Changing course?" Elizabeth frowned and Peggy forced a small smirk onto her face, hoping none of her earlier strife was visible.
"Yes, we need to chart a different path if we're going to be able to outrun the Black Pearl. It might take us a few extra days to get you back to Port Royal, but it will be safer." She straightened up and beckoned to Elizabeth to follow her. "Come, the bed's this way. Don't worry, I changed the sheets this morning, you won't smell Jack anywhere." She added with a small chuckle as she led Elizabeth towards a double bed built into the wall of the cabin towards the back, opposite a small wooden door.
"Thank you," Elizabeth sighed in relief, her usually poised and perfect posture relaxing into a small slouch of exhaustion as she sat on the edge of the clean bed "That cretin Barbossa locked me in this tiny room inside his quarters for most of the voyage-"
"The cabin boy's quarters." Peggy's eyebrows rose and Elizabeth nodded, only to stop in surprise.
"Yes, how did you know?"
Peggy paused. Well, if she had told Will then she supposed she ought to tell Elizabeth too, since they'd be sailing together for a while.
"They used to be my quarters." She gulped, keeping her face as neutral as possible. "Back when I used to sail on the Black Pearl."
Elizabeth stared at her, doe brown eyes widening.
"So…it's true…What Will said…" she trailed off and Peggy nodded, lips pursed as she felt irritation bubble in her gut.
So, Will just thought he could spread her secrets without her consent?
"Yes, it is true."
Elizabeth instantly became apologetic.
"Don't be mad at Will. I overheard a couple of the men talking as we went below deck. They said something about how you were the captain's favourite and of course he'd save your…um, behind…among some other…disgusting things that I am sure are not true. I can't imagine you ever being in such a way with a man like that." Elizabeth blushed a little and Peggy guessed she was desperately trying to forget the litany of swears and vulgarities she had just been exposed to. "Will, however, said none of those were true. He said that you were only Jack Sparrow's cabin girl a long time ago and that you only came back to help rescue me."
"Well, I don't know what the crew is saying about me behind my back and nor do I care." Peggy snorted in amusement at her friend's innocence, as she sat beside her on the bed. "But Will is right. I was Jack's cabin girl before I came to Port Royal."
"That must have been an, uh, educational experience." Elizabeth gave a small smile, trying to lighten the mood.
"It was interesting I'll give it that." Peggy accepted the olive branch. "Until Hector took charge."
"Hector?"
"Barbossa."
"Oh…oh right of course." Elizabeth bit her lip, her injured hand flexing and curling at the mention of the man. "You knew him rather well then."
"He was Jack's first mate." Peggy sighed. "Bastard took us both for a bloody spin," she added bitterly. "Sorry, sorry-last thing you want to be is reminded of him after all this."
"No. Don't be. I am sorry for bringing it up." Elizabeth reached out to grip her hand reassuringly. "Though…actually, I am rather grateful. With your knowledge and your relations with Sparrow, you and Will were able to find where I was before Barbossa or his men could kill me…or worse." She shivered and Peggy grimaced in sympathy giving her friend's hand a small squeeze.
"I must say, you're taking this a lot better than Will did." She smirked lightly and was relieved to see Elizabeth chuckle lightly.
"Well, it does explain why you knew so much about sailing and sword fighting. Besides, I always used to think it would be rather exciting to meet a pirate. Never did I think I would become friends with one…or fall for one…" she added in a mumble, her smile falling as she looked away down to her toes.
"You should get some rest," Peggy mumbled rubbing her friend's shoulders soothingly. "I'll bring up some food later. Since I'm cabin girl here my room's just in there if you need somewhere safe to hide." She pointed to the door opposite the Captian's bed. "I'll have to lock you in while I'm gone though. Just for safety. This lot are not like Barbossa or his men, but you can't be too careful. Gibbs has the spare key in case of an emergency." She pointed to the door to her nook and Elizabeth smiled weakly.
"Thank you, Peggy. You're a good friend."
"Anytime Lizzy." Peggy stood up, forcing herself to smile as she quietly padded out of the room.
She sighed heavily as she locked the door behind her with the key she kept around her neck.
Gods that was…awful. Peggy felt her heart sink even further into the hollow hole that had once been her chest.
Seeing Lizzy and Will moon over one another from a distance was one thing, hearing it from her friend's mouth was almost like being stabbed in the kidney by a knife made from ice so cold it burned.
If she had heard the words from any other woman she might have been able to shrug it off.
But this was Elizabeth, dear Lizzy. Lizzy was her friend whom she had spent sunny afternoons walking and talking about everything and nothing while the washing had been drying on the line. Her friend with whom she had helped sneak out of boring social activities with those fussy aristocratic ladies so they could explore the town. Lizzy was her friend who had stood up to her father on her behalf when she had been wrongly accused of stealing from his house. She was her friend who had held her as she had cried about being rejected by her first love when she was sixteen.
Lizzy, who was always more beautiful than her, richer than her, more refined, polished and genteel. A woman who would not swear like a sailor or punch like a ruffian. She was strong in her own way and intelligent, but she had never learned to lie and cheat to survive or deal with a drunk lecherous landlord. Lizzy, who had a loving doting father and grabbed the attention of men instantly whenever she entered a room. Lizzy, a woman who was free to be with the man she loved if she was brave enough to take the leap because her soul was not sold to the devil himself.
Peggy was unsure how she managed to keep a straight face around the crew as she descended below deck when all she wanted to do was scream. It did not help that some who did pass her shot her looks of pity or patted her on the shoulder as she passed by. Gods, whoever thought women were the worst gossips in the world had never lived on a ship with pirates. Or were they consoling her for the loss of Jack?
Either way, she hated it.
Why couldn't everyone leave her alone?! She had made her bed, she had accepted her fate, why couldn't everyone just let her be?! It was easier being alone! No one could break her heart any further if they just left her alone!
Just sing. Do something. Anything. Look busy. Don't give them any chance to talk to you.
She gritted her teeth as she finally found her way into the galley and began to sift through their supplies. All able hands were above deck rushing about as they tried to put as much distance between them and the Black Pearl, so no one was in the kitchens. Luckily for her, a couple of chickens had been freshly slaughtered and plucked that morning, ready to cook for the evening meal.
Some soup might be good, or stew. Yes, stew…then we can use some of this fowl. Something thick with some vegetables. She thought as she picked out a small sack of potatoes and loaded them into a large pot along with some preserved carrots and peas and cabbage.
She felt her mind begin to relax as she set all the ingredients out on the table in the small kitchen and began to sort them out for preparation.
"Oh, gather 'round, ye sailors bold, and hear a tale of love grown cold, of two who vowed on shore to meet, of faithless hearts led to deceit."
She sang softly to herself as she began chopping carrots on a board, the thud of the knife against wood soothing in its violent way.
"She was a goddess of the sea, and he, a pirate, wild and free. They pledged their love, their souls entwined, to meet again, in ten years time."
She threw the carrots into the pot such was her ire, but little did she care. If she could not scream at the world, then she would vent some other way.
"Ten years he waited for the shore, with dreams of his love, his spirit soared. But she, so fickle, did not show, their vow was broken, tears did flow."
She was vaguely aware of footsteps coming down into the galley, but she ignored them as she started to chop more vegetables.
"Another decade came and went; she never came, and more tears were shed. And on that day, his heart did break, and mortal form he did forsake"
How many times had she heard her mother sing that song? Too many times that was for certain. It was hammered into her brain like a long sharp nail.
"In rage and sorrow, he did swear, to curse her name, his vengeance bare. He carved his heart out from out his chest and hid it where they had first met."
She was not sure why she sang it now. As a child, she had been so horrified that anyone could feel so miserable that they could carve out their own heart. Now she understood the feeling only too well.
"Now cruel and cold, he haunts the sea, a heartless man, in agony. Yet deep within, he yearns for death, to find her arms in final breath."
Kathunk!
She stared at the point where she stabbed the knife into the cutting board. In her frustration, she had managed to make a deep incision into the grain, but she found herself caring little for the casualty of her wrath.
"You'll damage the blade if you do that."
"I'm not exactly in a mood to care." She grunted, barely paying Will a glance as he wrenched the knife from the board with an easy tug, placed it carefully on the table and sat down beside her. "Lizzy's resting in the captain's quarters. And before you rush off to check on her let me remind you that she's locked in good and tight, and I have the key as per our original arrangement."
"I know. Gibbs informed me just now." Will reached to stop her from taking the knife again. "Peggy…what did he say to you?"
"What do you mean?" Peggy mumbled, keeping her eyes fixed on the large hand that gripped her wrist.
"Gibbs, did he say something to upset you?"
"We talked about Jack," Peggy muttered so that only he could hear. "He was suspicious about what happened at Isla de Muerta. So, I told him that Jack being left behind was all a part of the grand plan."
"And he bought that?" Will quirked a brow.
"Yes. Jack's always been one for outrageous schemes. Letting himself get captured by the enemy is one of the least crazy things he's done I can assure you." Peggy snorted again trying to tug her hand away, but Will did not let it go.
"And what else did he say?"
"We talked about what our route should be to escape the Pearl. That's why there's so much chaos above deck."
"You sure there was nothing else?"
"I'm sure. Why are you asking?" Peggy sighed, finally summoning enough courage to look him in the face. He looked deadly serious and concerned.
"Because you're down here decapitating carrots like an angry executioner having a bad day-" Will's hand slid down to grip hers tight "-And because he just cornered me and gave me a lecture to never forget how lucky I am to have a woman like you by my side who was willing to risk the hangman's noose to help me."
Peggy shook her head and groaned into her free hand. Bloody Gibbs. Why was he being so damn nosey? It was a sweet gesture, to be sure, but a stupid one.
"Why the hell did he say that?" She mumbled as she pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Because he said that Jack ordered him to look after you if something happened to him."
"Jack did?" Peggy frowned. There it was again. First Gibbs and now Will. Was this the same Jack Sparrow they were talking about? The Jack Sparrow that would have selfishly sacrificed Will's life for his ship? The same man that had let her be tossed overboard because he was too proud to listen to her?
"Peg…" Will gulped "Are you angry that I double-crossed him?"
"…no." Peggy shook her head. "I'm just…I'm just confused is all." she rubbed her temple "When I handed you that oar, I didn't just do it to protect you. I wanted to give Jack a taste of his own medicine for once. To be the one who got used and tossed aside for a change, the way I thought he had tossed me aside for the Pearl. But the more I think about what happened that night…Maybe I was wrong."
"What do you mean?" Will frowned at her, his thumb stroking the back of her hand.
How Peggy hated the gesture…if only for how safe and warm it made her feel.
"I was hit on the head; I was so scared. Hector had Jack tied up too and held back. Maybe he didn't say anything not because he didn't want to, but because he couldn't. And now here I've gone and betrayed him…after he's stuck his neck out for me again with this crew."
"Only because I suggested it," Will muttered bitterly, his face just as remorseful as she felt. "I'm so sorry Peg. I'm sorry I put you in that position. And I'm…I'm sorry for dragging you along on this voyage."
"What?" Peggy's brow furrowed as Will let go of her to put his face in his hands.
"I was so focused on getting Elizabeth back at all costs that I pulled you back into piracy without thinking about the consequences you would face. That you could be hung for helping me never did cross my mind until Gibbs told me, and for that, I am a massive fool."
"If you're the fool then so am I," Peggy mumbled elbowing him playfully, unable to bear seeing him so remorseful. "You didn't force me into anything William Turner. If I did not want to come with you on this voyage, I never would have. Plain and simple."
"Still, you risk so much-Ow!" he winced as she flicked his earlobe.
"And I did that of my own volition. I did not want you to get yourself duped by Jack. And there was no way I was going to miss watching you knock Jack out like a fish at market." she added with a small fond smile, the first real one she had felt all day. "Look don't get me wrong, I do feel guilty for betraying him, but I kinda wish I had the chance to take a whack at his noggin, if only to get even for all the times he teased me about hammering away with you."
"He says that, but I think any man that had the chance to be intimate with you in any way would be a very lucky man indeed."
"You're just being kind." Peggy felt her cheeks burn as she looked away, unable to meet his sincere gaze as he stroked the end of her braid as it rested over her shoulder.
"Doesn't mean it's not true. You're loyal, fierce…beautiful. What sort of idiot would not want a woman like you?"
It took Peggy all she had not to snort at his choice of words, though something of her amusement must have shown because when she met Will's eye they both chuckled, only to flush as they realised how close they were sitting.
"That song you were singing before…what was that?" Will coughed as he picked up a potato and started peeling it with one of the smaller knives into a bowl.
"The Torment of Calypso," Peggy mumbled as she returned to chopping up the carrots, though she was a lot less violent than before. "My mother used to sing it. She used to sing all the sea chanteys. I never really heard any proper lullabies until I met you or Lizzy. It's about the sea goddess who fell in love with a mortal man but betrayed him and turned him mad."
"Seems a bit grim for a bedtime story." Will cringed as he remembered the lyrics. "What with the man carving out his heart and all that."
"Yes, well, mother never sang it to me. She always tried to sing happy songs whenever I was around. From what I remember she used to sing it when she was alone and thought I couldn't hear her, whenever she was sad. And she was sad often." Peggy grimaced gloomily.
"How come?" Will glanced at her through the corner of his eye as he began peeling another potato.
"My father…I think." Peggy shrugged carelessly "I don't remember much about the man…he was not around often. Always away from home travelling for his business."
"She must have missed him a lot to be that unhappy without him." Will tried but Peggy just rolled her eyes in fond exasperation. He always was such a romantic.
"It was the opposite. She was miserable whenever he was around, and I don't blame her. She was such a warm loving woman…and he was always so…cold…indifferent...he showed more affection to his coins than anyone else." Peggy sucked in a deep breath to soothe the anger before it could bubble to the surface again "My father and her, they did not love one another. Or if they did it then their love must have died a long time before I was born."
"Oh…I see. Forgive me, I assumed…well, I know my mother missed my father terribly while he was gone."
There was a pause as Will paused in his peeling and drew something out of his pocket.
Peggy stiffened as she caught sight of a glimmer of gold between his fingers.
"Is that…?" She shivered in disgust and Will nodded grimly as he slid the golden trinket across the table for her to look at.
It was the medallion. The same skull medallion Elizabeth had worn the day Jack rescued her. It was even more unnerving now that it had a stain of crimson blood along one side.
"Elizabeth took it from me the day she found me," Will muttered, and Peggy was surprised by the hint of anger in his voice. "All these years I thought I had lost it, but she had kept it all this time."
"She must have thought you'd get hung for piracy if anyone saw you with it," Peggy muttered though she dared not pick it up. "It looks like something a pirate would wear after all."
"That was what she said, but…still…I wish she would have told me. Maybe I would have uncovered the truth about my father sooner…the truth about what I am." Will muttered moodily.
"And what are you, Will Turner?" Peggy murmured putting down her knife.
"…I…I don't know." Will admitted running a hand over his head. "I thought I was just Will Turner, a simple blacksmith with very little prospects and no blood family. Now in the past week, I've found out I'm the son of a pirate whose crew wants to kill me for some sick ritual. I stole a navy ship, freed a convicted criminal from jail, sailed in the company of other pirates-"
"Took a pirate under your roof for ten years," Peggy added and despite his sour mood the corners of his mouth did quirk upwards slightly.
"That's different, I did not know you were a pirate. And in any case, you don't count."
"How dare you, Mister Turner!" Peggy mockingly scoffed earning a small snort of laughter as he straightened up in his chair.
"I don't mean it like that." He nudged her gently with his elbow. "It's just, when I found out about you being a pirate I wasn't just angry. I was scared. I thought as soon as we got out there on the open ocean you'd change. That the girl I grew up with was just a lie and you'd end up being this vile, nasty creature. But you haven't changed a bit, you just wear trousers and perhaps you swear a bit more. If anything, you're more like yourself out here, more than I've seen you be in a long time."
"I guess I have missed being out on the ocean," Peggy mumbled glancing at the ceiling through which they could hear many booted feet stomping about far above. "Though the cursed pirates hunting us down is something I could live without."
She and Will managed a small chuckle, though unlike the others this one quickly died off as he stared at her intently.
"If you didn't have to live with it…what if…what if you were free to do whatever you wanted? Would you still be a pirate? Or would you stay in Port Royal?"
"I…I don't know." Peggy felt her chest constrict on her once more, the mark on her right wrist tingling uncomfortably. It had been so long since she had thought about the future, if only because her future was so set in stone. It had been so long since she truly had a choice in her life that she could not imagine what she wanted. "So far everything I've done has just been to survive, I haven't thought about what I'd do if I had free choice. Why? Do you want me to leave so you and Lizzy can sail off into the sunset in one another's arms and enjoy your happy-ever-after while I rot in the bottom of some old, leaky tub?"
"What? No!" Will's eyes widened in alarm, and Peggy was surprised as he reached out to grab her hand again, as if terrified she was going to vanish instantaneously like a magician. "Not at all! I…I just-I didn't mean-That's not what I-I would never ask you to-" he spluttered desperately as he did his best to compose himself.
Peggy cursed herself. She hadn't meant for it to come out so bitterly, but she couldn't help it. All the hurt and anger had flown out of her mouth before she could stop it. Even so, it felt good to get it out of her system…if only for a moment.
"Relax dummy, I'm only teasing you." Peggy pulled her hand out of his and tweaked his nose, hoping he would not notice how she forced herself to smirk. "You get so intense and serious sometimes."
"That may be so." Will pouted swatting her fingers off his face and gripping them tight in his own once more. "But that's only because I care about you. I may not love you like I do Elizabeth, but you are very dear to me. I just…I want to see you happy."
Fat chance of that ever happening. Peggy said in her head, remembering the sneering pair of blue-green eyes as they flashed in the dark of night and lightning. He wondered what Will would think if he knew she had a sentence of two hundred years of misery at the hands of the devil himself. Would he rush to save her as he had done Elizabeth? Perhaps he would at first, but he would soon give up when he realised it would take him away from his precious beloved.
"We should keep cutting these up." She mumbled; ears pink despite her attempt to keep a stoic face as she peeled away from him and began carving up the chicken to put in the pot. "Dinner won't make itself…and Lizzy will be hungry after she finishes resting."
Will nodded silently as he picked up his knife and continued peeling and cutting the potatoes, eyes fixed on her face.
There she was again, deflecting to either a joke or the mundane as soon he brought up something important. How many times had she done that in this conversation alone? Why? What had he done?
What had he done to hurt her in a way that would make someone like Gibbs so mad at him?
Will could sort of understand Jack being overprotective. The man was childish, possesive and immature, and he seemed to see him as some rival for Peggy's attention.
But Gibbs had no prior connection with Peggy before this week. Why would he be so fierce in setting him straight? Was he truly that loyal to Jack, that he would take such a task so seriously? Or had he grown fond of Peggy that fast?
Granted she had proven her mettle time and time again each day despite the scepticism thrown at her because of her hair and gender. And then there was the fact she was so trusted by the captain and had stayed loyal to him despite a mutiny against him.
And here Will was, dragging her into the dangerous situation of betraying the captain who had vouched for her.
Had Gibbs guessed his actions? Was that why he was on thin ice with the man?
If the crew find out we betrayed Jack I must take the blame. Will decided firmly as he carved off a piece of peel with such intensity he almost sliced the top of his thumb off. It's the right thing-No! It's the only thing I can do.
"So you expect to leave me standin' on some beach, with nothing but a name and your word it's the one I need and watch you sail away in my ship?"
Jack Sparrow grinned as Hector Barbossa glowered suspiciously at him.
He was back on the Black Pearl. Against all odds, the universe had presented him with in the last few days he had done it.
And all he had to do was get whacked over the head by the goddamned whelp and his old cabin girl.
Those two did not know how to double-cross, did they? If they had they would have made sure that Jack would not have a ticket back to get revenge on them.
Amateurs! Ah Pegsy I'm gonna have to drill those lessons of piracy into yer head again ain't I?
He mused, a wary eye drifting over to the hanging perch near Barbossa's seat where an adorable, but wicked-eyed capuchin monkey was perched in a little white shirt and a red vest. The creature bared its teeth at Jack as he stalked around the circumference of the table between them.
"No. I expect to leave you standing on some beach with absolutely no name at all, watching me sail away on MY ship, and then I'll shout the name back at you, savvy?"
"That still leaves the problem of me standing on some beach, with naught but a name and your word it's the one I need." Barbossa sneered, eyes following Jack's hands as they reached to pilfer through a pile of juicy and fresh green and red apples amassed in the fruit bowl before them. "Then there's the matter of the little witch. How do I know you'll tell me where she is?"
"Of the two of us, I am the only one who hasn't committed mutiny. Therefore, my word is the one we'll be trusting." Jack finally plucked a slightly small green apple from the bottom of the pile and slithered into a wooden chair, his leather booted feet plonking languidly on the table as he took a chomp from his bounty "Although, I suppose I should be thanking you because in fact, if you hadn't betrayed me and left me and Pegsy to die, we would have an equal share in that curse, same as you. Funny ol' world ain't it?"
"Hmm." Barbossa's lip curled with anger. He had been saving those apples for after that ritual. It was to be his first taste of food and joy for the past ten years! And of course, Jack Sparrow had to dip his filthy hands into the pot first.
"Captain!" his bosun grunted as he thudded in through the door. "We're coming up on the Interceptor."
Jack flinched as the monkey screeched and ran across the table and his lap to scurry out the door. Gods he really despised the little primate already.
Wait we can't have caught up that quickly could we? he thought as he followed Barbossa's hurried footsteps out the door and up onto the deck.
Sure as eggs, Jack could see the familiar white sails on the horizon as he poked his head over the side.
Ah…not good. If we attack her then I'll lose that Turner brat and my leverage! he snarled as he drew back and clambered up the stairs onto the poop deck to pop his head in front of Barbossa's telescope.
"I'm havin' a thought 'ere Barbossa!" he smiled as Barbossa lowered the device to glower waspishly at him. "What say we run up a flag of truce, I scurry over to the Interceptor, and I negotiate the return of your medallion. Ey? What say you to that?"
Barbossa only smirked with fond exasperation, mixed with cruel vindictiveness. "No, you see Jack, that's exactly the attitude that lost you the Pearl in the first place. People are easier to search when they're dead, and as for the little witch you brought along, oh yes," his grin grew wider and more malicious as Jack's cheeky expression fell ever so slightly "I know you brought Pegsy along Jack. Who else would risk their hide to save yer ungrateful arse from a prison cell? Don't worry." Barbossa added flicking his hand to two of his beefier men who grabbed Jack by the arms and held him fast "I won't kill her. That little wretch thinks she can curse me and me men and get away with it? No…not I have something much better in store for her. Lock him in the brig!" He commanded loudly, for all his crew to hear.
Jack gulped as he was dragged off, Barbossa snagging his unfinished apple from his fingers and tossing it through one of the ripped sails and into the oceans as hard as he could.
"Waste of a good apple," Jack mumbled, eyes straying to the white sails on the horizon.
Well, there went that grand plan.
There was silence as Will scraped his whetstone against the blade of the kitchen knife, as Peggy began putting together some scraps from the table to feed to the livestock in the galley.
A couple of hours had passed since their talk. He and Peggy had just finished making and serving the hot chicken stew to the rest of the crew, who wolfed it down gratefully before returning to their frantic sailing.
Peggy had taken some to Elizabeth who was glad for the warm meal before she settled back down to sleep some more.
Will was glad. Despite her attempts to stay ladylike and stoic, Elizabeth did look like she had hardly slept a wink since her abduction. Some sleep and respite were exactly what she needed.
And so, while she slumbered he had settled for staying with Peggy in the hold, helping her take stock of their supplies and look after their tools.
Will looked up as the familiar head of copper hair sidled back into the kitchen carrying a small bucket of water, some soap and a mop to clean the floor. Whoever had been cooking down here the day before had not bothered to clean any spillage so she had taken it upon herself to do the task. As she busied herself she continued humming softly under her breath as was her custom while cleaning.
It was The Torment of Calypso, though this time she only hummed the melody and sang it at a much slower tempo than before, making it sound far more melancholic than her first rendition.
I knew it. he thought glumly as her face settled into a sombre expression.
Peggy might think she had distracted him, but he could always tell what kind of mood she was in from her songs. Something was wrong in her heart. Something was tormenting her and eating her up from the inside. He just wished he knew what it was so he could find a way to get rid of that misery he saw reflected in her eyes even as she glanced up to the ceiling.
"Did you hear that?" Peggy frowned
Will followed her gaze. The footsteps of the crew above were far louder and more frantic than before. Gibbs was almost hoarse from the volume he projected as he roared:
"STEP TO IT LADS SHE'S ON OUR STERN!"
Peggy and Will looked at one another, the colour in their faces draining as horrible realisation kicked in.
"The Pearl-You don't think she's-" Will started to say but already Peggy was scrambling to her feet, neither of them realising what precious golden trinket they had left behind on the table.
Will followed her lead, all thoughts flying out the window as they rushed through the ship at top speed and arrived on the deck.
It was utter bedlam. The crew of the Interceptor nearly flew across the deck in their haste to keep everything running smoothly. Gibbs and Annamaria were both shouting orders to the men from the helm while Paulie the Parrot flew between the rigging shouting random curse words and phrases like:
"Batten down the hatches! Sqwaaak! down the hatches!"
It would have been comical had the sight beyond the stern not filled Peggy's heart with dread.
While the Black Pearl was a terrifying sight in the night, under the light of day she was just as fearsome.
The black hull and sails stood out starkly in the sunlight as a wall of grey smog and mist billowed around her from behind as if it were a massive ghost pushing the boat along.
Peggy would not be surprised if the mass behind the ship was indeed alive or somewhat sentient because there was no way in any layer of hell they should be catching up so fast.
"This is the fastest ship in the Caribbean!" a voice called out and Peggy was surprised to see Elizabeth out on the deck storming up to Annamaria at the helm.
"You can tell them that after they've caught us! Now either you can make yerself useful or you can take your noble hide back to your hole and stay outta our way!" Annamaria snapped waspishly earning herself a brief look of shock from Elizabeth. As a noblewoman, she was not used to being spoken at so viciously or bluntly by anyone.
But what else did Elizabeth expect? Peggy snorted to herself as she helped Gibbs secure the shrouds nearby.
She was a guest aboard a pirate ship under chase from a deadly enemy, there was no time for niceties. Had she expected every man or woman aboard the ship to fawn over her like Will or be as polite as Gibbs while they were in the middle of a crisis?
Peggy had no time to appreciate the serving of humble pie as she looked towards the waters beyond the bow, scanning them for any hopeful sign.
"There!" she breathed in relief as she caught sight of shallow churning waters. "We're shallower on the draft right?!" She called to Annamaria who nodded with far less hostility than she had shown Elizabeth.
"Aye?"
"Then can't we lose them amongst those shoals?!" she pointed to where she had spotted said shoals.
Gibbs quickly took a small spyglass from his belt and looked where she directed him. It was a bit far out but not unreachable if they put their backs to it.
"We don't have to outrun 'em long. Just long enough!" He grinned.
"Lighten the ship! Stem to stern!" Annamaria commanded.
"Anything we can afford to lose, make sure it's lost!"
"I'll tell the men to prep the cannons!" Peggy called to the two pirates. "Just in case!"
"Aye, you do that lass. Take Turner with ye!" Gibbs smiled gratefully grabbing Elizabeth and leading her to the stern and giving her his spyglass. "Keep an eye out on the Pearl Miss Elizabeth! Keep us abreast of how far away she is!"
It was chaos after that. Peggy and Will were going between men and ordering them to load cannons while they simultaneously helped carry barrels of gunpowder and cannonballs to each gun.
It was a hard task, especially since some panicking crew members had accidentally thrown several barrels and crates of much-needed ammunition over the sides.
"Look out!" Will pulled Peggy back as a heavy cannon ball almost fell on her foot as it rolled out of an overturned crate.
"Sorry lass!" Marty shouted but Peggy was already rushing over the mess to look over the side.
She cursed as she looked at the Pearl. It had barely been twenty minutes and already it was close enough that Peggy could see its oars as they poked from the hull. Wait oars?!
"SHIT!" She swore loudly Will came up behind her to see what she was looking at. "I forgot about the oars! They'll be on us in no time!" She dashed up to the helm barely heeding his shouts.
"Gibbs the oars!"
"I know we just saw them!" Elizabeth called out as she handed the spyglass back to a dismayed Gibbs. There was no point in using it now that their enemy was getting so close.
"How far till the shoals?!" Peggy asked Annamaria, but her fellow pirate just shook her head in defeat.
"Too far. It was a good plan up till now." She admitted.
"Gibbs!" Will called as he clambered the stairs, his brown hair almost completely windswept about his sweaty face. "We have to make a stand! We must fight!"
"With what?" Annamaria sighed as Peggy ran a hand over her face.
"Anna's right we barely have enough ammo left!"
"Everything! Anything! Anything we have left!" Will looked at Gibbs for backup and the man sighed heavily.
Well since they really did not have an option left…
"Load the guns! Case shot and langrage, nails and crushed glass!" Gibbs ran down on the deck, missing the way Elizabeth and Will stared a look of intense longing and admiration before the latter rushed down to help the quartermaster in his duties.
But Annamaria saw it. She also saw the stricken look on Peggy Blake's face as she turned her face away to bark orders at the men on deck.
Annamaria did not like drama aboard any of her boats and she sure did not appreciate it in this moment of crisis, however, she did feel some pity for the young red-haired woman. She had strengthened hands that knew hard work and Annamaria could respect that.
"You lady! Get below deck!" she barked at Elizabeth who was startled at the roughness of her voice.
"Anna's right, you need to go!" Peggy grabbed Elizabeth and began pushing her towards the stairs before she could argue with the helmswoman.
"But Peggy, I can't just do nothing! Let me go, this isn't any way to treat your friends!" Elizabeth growled as she shrugged her friend off only to blink in surprise as Peggy snapped at her:
"We're not friends right now Lizzy! We're crew! That means we need to pull together and follow orders. If you want to stay on the poop deck be my guest, you'll be the first to get shot at along with me and Anna! If you really want to help then go below deck, arm yourself and then start handing out the guns to the men! Can you do that?"
Elizabeth was about to shout back and argue but was stopped by the fierce expression on her friend's face. She had never seen Peggy get this forceful before, her red hair was a mess, loose strands flying about her freckled face as her nostrils flared and her blue-grey eyes flashed like steel. Honestly, it was a little frightening. It eerily reminded her of the way Barbossa snarled out orders on the Black Pearl.
"Lizzy!" Peggy repeated, lowering her voice a fraction but still maintaining intense eye contact. "Can you do that?"
"Yes…yes I can!" Elizabeth nodded and was rewarded with a grateful smile and a comradely tap on her arm, not dissimilar to how the men usually thanked one another on deck in passing.
"Good then get moving!" Peggy then pushed her towards the stairs, but Elizabeth did not argue any more as she followed her new directive. She was so unused to being manhandled and shouted at, but Peggy was right. This was a crew and if she wanted to be of help in this oncoming battle she needed to pull her weight.
The smiles and firm nods of gratitude she received as the men took the guns from her, were strangely heartening. All her life Elizabeth had been expected to sit back and let other people do things for her. It was a charmed life to be sure, but it was also stifling and unfulfilling. What had she achieved in her life apart from being a poised and well-read lady?
Now for the first time in her life, she felt somewhat useful…and it was on a pirate ship about to be attacked by a crew of cursed sailors of all things. It was both terrifying and thrilling at the same time. She wondered if this was what fresh recruits felt like in the Navy when their sergeants yelled at them.
"The Pearl's gonna luff up on our port quarter!" Gibbs shouted as he and Will returned to Anna and Peggy on the poop deck. "She'll rake us without ever presenting a target!"
"Then we need to turn around and get back our advantage!" Will shouted above all the cacophony of sailors and the crashing of waves below.
Peggy snarled as she looked back at the Black Pearl.
She was so close they could see the pirates jeering at them from the bow just beyond her beautiful black wooden womanly figurehead.
"Lower the anchor on the starboard side. On the starboard side! The only way we'll get out of this is if we club haul!" She shouted to Gibbs's, Will's and Annamaria's surprise, the lattermost gaping at her as if she had just sprouted another three heads and a lizard's tail.
"It certainly has the element of surprise." Will agreed with a small shrug.
"You're daft Peggy! You both are!" Annamaria added with a glance at Will, but this only had the effect of making Gibbs's face light up with glee.
"Daft like Jack!" he grinned, squeezing Peggy's arm bracingly before turning to order the men "Lower the Starboard anchor! Do it yer gobs or it's you we'll load into the cannons!"
"Well done!" Will grinned at Peggy who managed a small smile as she gripped his arm.
"Keep the flattery for later, we need to get armed." they rushed down the stairs and towards the lower deck where Elizabeth was busy directing a chain of men to hand out guns and swords.
"Here!" the noblewoman shouted at Peggy whom she threw a firearm at as another sailor handed him a linstock for one of the cannons on deck, just as a splash was heard from the prow of the ship.
"Brace yourselves!" Gibbs shouted at the men even as Peggy dashed back towards the upper deck.
There was the groaning of wood, and a snapping sound and Peggy squeaked as she felt the floor beneath her tilt ominously.
"Not again! ACK!" She cried out as she flailed widely to grip one of the shrouds for support. "LET GO!" She yelled at Annamaria who was trying to hold on for dear life to the helm's wheel.
Annamaria let go at once, hitting the deck as the boom of the backmost sail swung over her head almost knocking off her hat as the entire ship swung around in a very sharp jibe.
"Keep her steady man!" Will barked at the crew as they struggled to realign their cannons at the Pearl, which was being pulled hard to port to avoid a crippling collision.
The shouting was at its peak now. Peggy could hardly hear herself think for all the screams and gnashing of teeth as the crews of both pirate ships snarled and jeered at one another from across the watery divide.
One drop in there and her last secret would be blown.
No! Don't think like that! We might not be able to win this fight but we can at least cripple the Pearl and snag an escape!
She looked over the tattered sails and mist curling about the hull of the haunted vessel.
Despite its impressive speed, the Black Pearl was a taller vessel than the Interceptor and slightly bulkier than one would expect of a ship made for swiftness.
Peggy gripped her gun tighter in her hands. She had almost forgotten how intimidating it was up close.
Then again she had never expected to be on the receiving end of one of its attacks. During those two years sailing her she had lost some of her fear of the vessel for it had been her home.
Even now the little girl inside her felt a strange pang of homesickness as her eyes drifted from the cannons being readied in the portholes up towards the helm.
"Hector!" She hissed.
There, leaving the wheel to his bosun, Hector Barbossa, Captain of the Black Pearl, stalked towards the railing, his long dark coat billowing in the wind along with the feather in his big-brimmed hat as his gaze roved with amused disdain over his adversary's ship, only to stop dead in his tracks as he caught sight of her.
For a split second, she saw astonishment flicker across his face as if he was unsure what he was seeing, then his eyes roved over her messy red braid and freckled face and his mouth split into a venomous sneer of sadistic glee.
With a condescending smirk, he tipped his hat to her in gentlemanly fashion, chuckling as she bared her teeth at him, gut broiling with fresh unfiltered fury.
She had not felt a bloodlust like this in years. Not since that night Barbossa had left her stranded out there in the middle of the ocean as a little girl. For so many years she had kept her fury in check. Will and Jack liked to joke and say she had a hot temper, but he had no idea how much she had been holding back all these years.
But now as she stood there faced with the man who had betrayed her trust and hurt her and her friends, all the pain and heartache of the past few days, all the indignity all the rage, it was all too much. It hit her with the full force of a cannonball, and she could not hold it back any longer.
This bastard! This greasy, grimy traitorous old codfish! He made a grave mistake tossing her to the sharks.
She inhaled sharply as she raised her gun and pointed it at the Barbossa's chest, keeping her eyes locked with his.
"NOW!" Will shouted from somewhere on the deck.
"FIRE!" Barbossa roared from his ship as he unsheathed his cutlass from his belt.
"FIRE!" Gibbs shouted on the Interceptor.
"FIRE ALL!" Someone roared.
It was as if the entire world had gone still around her as Peggy locked eyes once again with Barbossa once more.
Sounds were muted, and the world slowed to a crawl. She could see bullets sailing little by little through the air as muzzles of muskets, flintlocks and cannons were fired from both sides. The force of the artillery created disturbances in the air that blew past her face like tiny gusts of wind, dislodging many locks of copper from her already messy braid.
If anyone had bothered to look closely at her face, they might have noticed the redhead's canines were longer and more pointed than before, looking more like fangs as she snarled. They also would have noticed her pupils narrowed to pinpricks as her eyes shimmered silver in the sun with wrath upon her prey just as her nails extended into sharp claws that left long scratches in the metal and wood of her weapon as she squeezed the trigger.
There was a bang!
A flash of white.
And a bullet flew out of her rifle, straight towards her enemy's heart.
Notes:
And there we have it Chapter 8 is up and the Battle with the Black Pearl and Interceptor has just begun. and yes I'm leaving it on a cliffhanger. The best kind of hanger. Really, if I went any further and did the entire battle in this chapter, it would be over 20,000-word long so this felt like a good place to stop.
So Peggy is feeling guilty about betraying Jack and Will is getting a little lecture from Gibbs. Looking back on the films it kinda feels strange that Gibbs of all people is so accepting of Will ditching Jack in the cave. I always felt that even if the rest of the crew were okay with leaving Jack behind, his first mate might get a tingle that something was wrong. Also, it kinda feels good to make Will face a little bit of guilt and fret about the consequences for his actions since he tends to get away scott-free in the Curse of the Black Pearl.
As always please fave, follow and review if you enjoyed and I'll see you in the next chapter.
Thanks
FuzzyBeta
Chapter 9: A Walk Along the Plank
Summary:
"Why thank ye Jack!"
"Yer welcome."
"Not you, we named the monkey Jack."
Notes:
*Trigger warning - Mild body horror/painful transformation, slight nudity and maybe language! (Please, whatever you do, please don't send Captain America after my blood!)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Peggy Delphine Blake…my, my, my…how you've grown. Hector Barbossa grinned as he looked down at the woman staring up at him from the helm of the Interceptor.
Ten years. Ten years since he had seen the little wretch face to face.
The first thing he had noticed was her hair. How could he not? It was still the same bright shade of copper that shone brightly under the Caribbean sun. It was as long, curly and unruly as he remembered, each lock battling against the bonds of the braid she had tried to restrain it in. She wore a blue bandanna over the top of her head to keep it back from her freckled face which had matured nicely now that she had lost the puppy fat of youth.
The same could be said of her body. What had once been a gangly, scrawny, wiry ten-year-old was now a lean but curvy young woman. He smirked appreciatively as his eyes wandered to the open collar of her oversized white shirt which revealed a hint of shapely bosom before glancing down to the grey-cream pants that clung to a pair of shapely hips and solid thighs.
Now that was the body of a woman who had done a hard day's labour and still had a healthy appetite. Not like the fake Miss Turner, Barbossa thought to himself angrily. How could he have been so foolish to believe her guff about being a maid in the Governor's household? The blonde chit's hands had been so soft and unblemished, they had never done a day's honest work or held a sword.
Not like Peggy. Who even as he watched, raised a gun in her hands and pointed its muzzle at him.
His eyebrows rose in surprise.
Oh, now this was unexpected.
Little Peggy Blake who hated hurting even a fish was daring to raise a gun to kill him?
Then again, ten years was a long time, maybe she had finally gotten some proper blood on her hands while they were apart.
He paused as he saw her ready herself to squeeze the trigger.
Was it just him or had her eyes glowed silver for a split second? And wait…what had happened to her hands? What had once been regular human hands were now tipped with sharp almost claw-like nails and connected by strange webbing.
He glanced back at her face and felt his heart stop as he caught sight of her snarling mouth where four long sharp fangs bared up at him like a beast.
His smirk fell for a split second as his gaze travelled to the rolled-up sleeves of her arms. There, he could see under the light of the sun, a strange blotchy brown and cream colouration, running along the back of her hands up to her elbows.
Ahhh…now I see…He sucked in a deep breath as realization dawned bright and burning.
It all made so much sense now. Oh, what a fool he had been! What a massive, massive fool! Of course, he could not drown her. No one could ever drown someone like her, not even if they had weighted her to a cannon and dropped her into the deepest underwater canyon.
No. The best way to kill a creature like her was to run a sword through her.
But how do you catch someone like her? He mused to himself. Now there was a problem and a half.
I guess I'll have to figure it out before she can sink her claws into me! The Pirate captain of the Black Pearl mused as he quickly ducked to avoid the shot she had taken for his heart.
He'd give her credit; the girl always did have balls.
Peggy swore loudly, her voice drowned out by the cacophony of raucous, bloodthirsty shouting, booming cannon fire and snapping gunfire that blasted around her.
The bastard. The slippery old codfish!
She had him right there, perfect shot…and he had ducked!
I should have known it was too good to be true. She growled as she ducked beneath the safety of the Interceptor's railings to avoid a spray of bullets aimed at her head. Honestly, now she thought about it why had she bothered shooting?
These were cursed undead pirates, mundane things like bullets could not kill them.
She supposed she wanted the satisfaction of leaving a nice mark on Hector Barbossa to piss him off. By the sea gods he deserved it after all he had put her through.
With a snarl of fury, she quickly raised her rifle above the railing and took a couple of shots wildly upward towards the much higher-positioned crew of the Black Pearl.
It had been so many years since her last ship-to-ship battle. Due to her young age, Jack had kept her as far away from the fighting as much as he could, often locking her up in his cabin. He used to say he did not want her screwing everything up and getting in people's way, but Peggy now knew, much to her sinking gut, that he was only trying to protect her.
That did not mean she had not been forced to be involved in some battles when times were tough.
On the rare occasions she had not been able to run and hide in Jack's cabin, she had been witness to some nasty skirmishes, many of which still haunted some of her nightmares to this day.
The worst of them had been with other pirate ships for unlike the regular merchants or navy vessels they were not afraid to fight dirty nor did they show much mercy. The worst had to be Borgan the Butcher and his crew of the
And now here she was, amidst another battle, no longer a child who could be sheltered in the captain's cabin.
She sucked in a deep breath as she steeled herself to take another shot.
She had almost forgotten how violent these altercations could be. She had forgotten the bloodshed and the deafening sounds, the rush of adrenaline as you ducked and wove through sailors to find a safe spot to hide and shoot.
She was pleased to hear one man getting hit and falling backward only for the sound to be covered by a blast of the Interceptor's cannon fire.
"STOP BLOWIN' HOLES IN MY SHIP!"
Oh…wow, so Hector did keep him alive? Peggy's eyebrows rose as she caught sight of a familiar silhouette through a hole in the lower hull of the Pearl. Well fancy that-OH SHIT!
"LOOKOUT!"
Peggy squeaked as someone grabbed her by the arm and hauled her to the side only just in time.
There was a massive crash behind as a cannonball smashed through the wood, right where her head might have been if not for her saviour, who was desperately dragging her as they crawled, doing their best to keep their head down.
It was Elizabeth, her blonde locks flying about her and her terrified face sweaty but determined as she and Peggy scrambled for a safer position with more cover.
"OVER HERE!" Annamaria shouted as she left the helm to join them in the fight from a safer vantage point.
Together the three women dodged and wove through the crowd of men and guns, Annamaria and Peggy both popping up occasionally to cover Elizabeth's path and fire shots at the crew of the Pearl.
"HIT THE DECK!" Peggy yelled as she pushed Elizabeth down to the floor to avoid the gunfire whizzing through the air towards where she had been standing only for it to hit someone else.
Peggy barely even heard Will's shout as she watched the dead man's body fly backward, a bullet lodged in his chest. As he fell backward, the wound spurted out crimson liquid iron that sprayed all over her face, blinding her. Luckily for her, her ears were still, somehow, miraculously working so she was able to duck quickly to avoid the several guns that aimed their bullets at her exposed head.
"Gah!" she cried, scrubbing hard at her stinging eyes, glad for Elizabeth's grip on her hand as she led the way to Gibbs and Will who pushed them to duck by a piece of rigging that obscured them from view.
"We could use some more ideas, lass!" Gibbs shouted at Peggy when she finally surfaced to take a shot.
"It's your turn!" she snarled back as she ducked for cover again, blinking hard as her eyes slowly regained their focus.
"AGH! We'll need us a devil's dowry!" Gibbs yelped as a bullet whizzed over the top of his greying hair.
"We'll give them her!" Annamaria cocked her pistol and held it up to Elizabeth's head threateningly only to have her arm yanked back by Will.
"No! She's not what they're after!"
"The medallion!" Elizabeth breathed realization dawning in horror as she looked down at her chest only to find bare skin.
She looked up at Will whose gut sank in his chest as he tried to recall where he had last seen the Aztec coin.
Elizabeth had given it to him when he had been bandaging their hand in the galley. Then he had brought it out to show Peggy while they had been preparing lunch-
"Peggy where-" Will turned to look at his friend but to his surprise she was nowhere to be seen. "Peggy?"
"There!" Gibbs shouted pointing across the deck.
Will wheeled around just in time to see a copper braid and a blue bandanna disappear below deck. Heart hammering, he leapt over the bodies on the ground and ship debris after her, the cannon fire and gunfire muted against the pounding of blood in his ears.
How he avoided getting shot in those precious few seconds he had no idea, and he had very little time to celebrate such a feat as he descended towards the galley and found his feet drenched in a foot of water.
Oh no…this was not good. This was not good at all.
Everything was a mess, water was streaming in from holes made by cannon fire all along the starboard side. Barrels and crates floated, some of the smaller livestock the ship kept were swimming around haphazardly in various states of stress, their bonds cut or snapped.
But where was Peggy? She had come down this way he was sure of it so where was she? Was she under the water? She always said she could swim but she avoided getting dunked in anything more than a bathtub full of water so she can't have been that strong.
"PEGGY!" he roared as he waded through the water avoiding barrels and floating foodstuffs. He spotted the small kitchen, now flooded and hot with steam as the coals and fire that had once lit the tiny stove were consumed by the ocean water.
But still, no sign of red hair as he caught sight of the kitchen table, the last place he had seen the blasted medallion.
Desperately he scrambled for the table but could not see a glimmer of gold anywhere. There were potato peels and strips of cabbage floating just under his knees.
Knees?
He cursed as he saw the water levels rise to his kneecaps.
Taking on water was one thing but they were now sinking?!
KABOOM! CRAAAAASHHH!
"AHH!" Will cried out as the ship shook and the lower deck compressed, the ceiling suddenly caving in above him as something long and heavy crashed into it above deck. The impact was so massive that not only was more water flooding into the galley but several support beams had been broken and smashed to pieces. Then there was the exit. It had shut tight with a loud clang, a shadow cast over the metal grating blocking out half the light.
"HEEYY!" he called out as he scrambled to the closed hatch and tried to shove it open with a loose piece of wood beam. Whatever was blocking out the light above the grate was also weighing down upon it, preventing him from even moving it up a budge. "HEY BELLOWW!"
However, it was no use.
The shouting had gotten louder above deck and there was ten times more thudding of feet as the crew of the Black Pearl boarded the sinking Interceptor.
"WILL?!"
Will shook his head out to relieve the burning of saltwater spraying in his eyes from a leak nearby.
"WILL?!"
That voice…
"PEG?! PEG WHERE ARE YOU?!" he shouted as he paddled through the sinking debris towards the sound.
"OVER HERE!" She yelled from the kitchen side of the galley where several crates and some beams had collapsed to form a small barrier.
To his relief and dismay, Will saw Peggy's face through a gap between two beams of this wall. She seemed to be trying to push one of them up to make a hole for herself to fit through to reach him. She looked pale, drenched and waterlogged, like a wet ginger tabby cat but otherwise appeared unharmed. He could only imagine how awful he must look from her eyes.
"Here! I got it!" Quickly paddling over, Will slid up against the side of the beam, putting his shoulder under it and pushing it up with all his strength allowing her to duck under the water and swim through the hole.
"AGH!" he groaned as he let the weight go, the wall of debris almost falling on top of his arm had it not been for Peggy pulling him back towards the exit.
"It's okay Will. It's okay. I'm through. I made it." She gasped for air as she threw her arms around Will's neck.
Will returned the embrace with a sigh, inhaling the salty spicy scent of her hair as she whispered into his ear.
"Will I can't find the medallion!"
"Neither can I! Are you hurt?!"
"I'm fine but I don't think the ship is gonna last much longer."
Even as she said that the wood above her head groaned under the weight above, the wood buckling and bending above their heads like fragile glass.
A hissing shrieking sound made them jump and turn around in a splash.
There clambering on the archway of a door just above the water was a small capuchin monkey in a white shirt and red vest. In his little furry front paws, a gold Aztec coin medallion was dangling tantalizingly above their heads. It would have looked playful and adorable if the little primate had not exuded an air of cruel deviance from its very being.
"OH HELL NO! NOT YOU!" Peggy snarled at the creature, her fury making her grey eyes flash venomously at the creature which hissed nastily back at her, hackles raised and fur on end.
"What's that?!" Will recoiled from the critter's gnashing teeth.
"Hector's pet! Grab him!" Peggy lunged for the monkey as did Will, but too late.
The critter was slipping through the cracks in the grate of the hatch above and out of sight.
"Where's that blasted parrot when you need him? We could use those talons!" Peggy snarled as she and Will swam back over to the closed hatch and began to push together, both calling out desperately to the world above for aid.
"WILL!" a familiar voice finally shouted as a shadow of crimson material and blonde hair blocked out half the light.
"ELIZABETH!" Will called as his fingers reached desperately between the holes in the grating to graze hers just as another shadow blocked the other half of the light a shadow with dreadlocks and beads in his hair and beard.
"JACK!" Peggy grinned as the familiar face of her captain swam into view, his derisive smirk for Will's plight morphing into a look of horror as he clocked her presence below.
"Pegsy! What on earth are ye doin' down there?!" He hissed at her, but Peggy only shook her head.
"Jack! Monkey! The monkey has the medallion!" she yelled and was relieved as Jack whipped his head to search for said primate.
"Monkey!" he snarled as he caught sight of the critter running over a few bodies nearby "Swim down love!" the pirate shouted at Peggy before rushing off after his quarry, leaving Elizabeth struggling to move whatever was blocking the hatch.
"I-I can't move it!" She screeched as many grubby hands suddenly started grabbing and snatching at her dress and hair from behind her. "WILL!" she desperately kicked and screamed against her new captors only to get dragged away.
"Elizabeth!" Will bellowed as he caught sight of the sneering men grabbing Elizabeth's legs to stop her flailing, their eyes alight with wicked glee as they licked their teeth. One of them heard his shout and with a grin of gleeful malice, he pointed the blade of a bayonet of a gun towards the hatch.
"Will look out!" Peggy pulled the blacksmith back as the pirate took a stab at them through the grating, the tip of the bayonet coming so close to his eye that it missed him by a hair's breadth.
"OY! Leave it an' get a move on!" a rough voice jeered from somewhere above. "Don' wanna be here when this tub blows."
Peggy's felt the blood drain from her face and an icy chill spread through her body.
"Oh no…They've rigged the ship to explode."
"How-?"
"They must have rigged the gunpowder kegs on the bow side! I-I should've known-Hector always does this whenever he wants to finish something quickly." her voice fell away gaze travelling upwards as the water around them rose to the middle of her neck.
Will felt his heart break a little as he pulled back and saw the tears pricking the corners of her fearful eyes. It made her look so much younger, like that scared little girl he had found on the beach all those years ago.
"We're gonna make it out of this Peg." He cupped her cheek as he forced her to look at him, thumb wiping away a stray tear as it fell down her cheek. "We will. We just need to find another way out."
"T-Then we need to swim down like Jack said" She sucked in a deep shuddering breath to calm herself. "There must be a hole in the hull large enough for us."
"Got it!" Will tilted his head up to take a breath only to get stopped as Peggy grabbed his jaw.
"Will wait!" she breathed. "I-whatever happens down there, whatever you see-"
"Peg! Don't speak like that. We're going to be fine. I won't let anything bad happen to you. I promise. Now come on!" he kissed her between the eyes bracingly, horribly aware that the water level was now almost level with their ears.
Will you dummy that's not what I'm worried about. Peggy thought as she watched Will raise his head to savour the last few inches of air he had left. "See you on the Pearl." She whispered into his ear.
"Gents our hope is restored!" the shout of Hector Barbossa and the resounding victorious cheers were the last thing Peggy heard before she ducked swiftly below the surface, not even bothering to take a breath for herself. Not that she needed it.
Oh gods of the sea and tide give me strength. Ahh!
She cringed with pain as she ducked lower into the shadows of the water below a couple of beams, glad that Will's body blocked out most of the light above as she felt her body begin to change.
Guess this is it then. Will…please don't be mad.
Oh gods of the sea and tide give me strength.
The woman in the shack smiled fondly as she fingered the conch seashell pendant around her neck.
The woman's voice within the shell was singing softly, a sad and lonesome lullaby.
Och, ma bonnie bride o' sea,
Where hae ye gone fae me?
Ye left yer bairn an' hame behind,
An' noo I wander, lost in mind.
So the girl had finally returned to the water.
It had been months since her last transformation. The woman had been very generous in allowing the child to keep her gift and to her credit she had not abused the privilege. Then again, not even the woman in the shack could deny a daughter of the ocean her birthright. Not when so few of her kind remained in these waters.
The woman in the shack snarled as she thought of the white-sailed ships that had hunted down the children of the ocean in recent years. It was not enough that mankind thought they could bind the gods to their whim, they had to destroy all traces of their children and any magic that remained.
"Di tides are wid yuh chil'. Dem wi nut let harm cum tuh yuh or yuh luv mi pramise. Yuh still 'ave a part ta play an yuh muss seet through tuh di end." The woman murmured fingering the singing shell as it continued to sing its sad mournful tune.
Ma sweet love, wi' eyes sae clear,
I long tae haud ye near,
But ye've gone back tae the sea,
An' left me wae an' drear.
Will was frantic as he swam through the sinking Interceptor.
He couldn't believe it. He had lost sight of Peggy. She had ducked under the water while he had been busy taking in as much air as possible and when he had made to follow her he could not see her.
All he found floating in her place was her blue sash, her shirt and the necklace of keys drifting in the murky water.
He had grabbed the sash and the keys tucking them into his belt, leaving her shirt to float away as it snagged and tore off on a nail in a nearby beam. But no matter how much he turned his head he could not see her red curls anywhere.
His lungs burned as he forced himself to concentrate on swimming down through the ship.
He was of no use to anyone if he drowned. Besides, if she had felt comfortable swimming on her own then perhaps she might be alright after all. Maybe she was going ahead to search for a way out. Yes, that had to be it.
"See you on the Pearl."
That was what she had said, wasn't it? Then to the Pearl, he would go.
As he made his way down he thought he saw the tip of something flick around a corner and out into blue water.
There! A hole in the hull. Perfect.
Vigour renewed he followed the strange shadow out of the Interceptor, his body relaxing as he found himself in the open ocean his body no longer hemmed in by the dilapidated ship.
There was still no sign of Peggy, but he could see the blurry dark shadow from before twist and turn upwards through the water with astonishing grace.
Will followed its path upward gasping for breath as his nose and mouth broke through the surface.
He was under the shadow of the Black Pearl, just beneath the figurehead at the prow and hidden by a curtain of sea kelp that had somehow found itself draped over the side.
He could hear men cheering and jeering overhead and quickly swam closer to the ship's hull. The Black Pearl had done it. They had captured the medallion and the crew, Elizabeth, Jack, Gibbs, Anna, Cotton, Marty all of them, and were forcing them to walk across to the safety of the dark ship.
But they had not captured HIM yet. Without his blood, they still missed their one piece to freedom.
And Peggy? Where was she? God if she had drowned because of him he would never forgive himself. No! He could not afford to think like that. Peggy would survive, he knew she would.
Will winced as water splashed into his face from the side and he gasped in surprise as he turned to face the culprit only to find himself faced with…
Will blinked in confusion
There, bobbing in the water before him was the head of a large seal.
Its wet coat was a smooth and velvety brown while its underbelly was soft and cream-coloured. At the other end of its round, slightly tapered, long-whiskered snout was a wide pair of big and expressive dark grey-blue eyes. Those eyes…Will felt he knew them from somewhere.
Will stiffened in astonishment as the mammal swam up to him without fear, ducking its head at the last minute to swim around his torso. Will felt strangely comforted as its thick body of blubber and muscles brushed him by with a slick smoothness belying its build.
Curiosity piqued; he tracked the animal as it resurfaced nearby right under one of the Black Pearl's lifeboats on the starboard side still whole as it had remained out of the way during the ship-to-ship battle.
Was this normal seal behaviour? Will frowned as the creature turned its head to look at him almost expectantly.
Cautiously Will peeked around the port hull of the Black Pearl just in time to see the gangplank being slid backward away from the Interceptor deck as the last of the men swung across, taking their grappling tools with them. He also noticed to his relief that the cannon hatches were all shut tight, the only windows into the ship now the holes made by cannon fire and shrapnel courtesy of the Interceptor.
No one should be looking over the side now. Will gulped down on his nerves as he ducked beneath to swim starboard near the seal and the lowered lifeboat.
To his surprise, the animal did not flee upon his approach. It stayed close beside him nudging his side gently with its head to push him into the tiny vessel. Will sighed with relief, bones aching and muscles burning as he reclined onto his back and looked up at the sky. Despite the strange supernatural fog that seemed to constantly roil and broil around the Black Pearl the skies above were still that same crystal-clear blue shade, and the sun was warm and bright.
He jerked back to a sitting position as the small lifeboat suddenly tilted and looked down to see the seal trying to hoist itself into the boat beside him.
On instinct, Will raised his hands to push the creature away, but something in its baleful eyes gave him pause as it managed to slide into the boat beside him, its weight tilting his resting spot till he was sitting at an awkward angle.
Will's expression softened as he watched the creature pant and yawn, its head hanging heavily as it sagged.
The poor thing. It looked as exhausted and stressed as he felt. It must have been nearby when the two ships decided to have a go at one another in its hunting grounds.
With a careful hand, he slowly reached out to the animal. Sure, it was wild, and it was probably very foolish of him to attempt such a thing, but he felt no animosity from its presence. For some strange reason, he knew the creature would trust him not to hurt it.
The seal stiffened, its blubbery form flinching as his fingers grazed its fur. However, it quickly relaxed into his touch, blinking up innocently at him as he stroked his hand soothingly across its side. As he rested his hand against the front of the seal's chest he marvelled at the robust and powerful pounding of its heartbeat.
Despite being drenched in cold seawater, its body was hot under his touch. He could see why sailors coveted such creatures so fondly. In an underwater world, filled with scaly, slippery cold things like fish it felt nice to touch something warm and soft for a change.
"Thank you," he murmured.
Will did not know whether he was projecting his emotions onto the creature, but he could have sworn it smiled at him as it rolled onto its back. He grinned as one tired flipper gently tapped its side as its body stretched to its full length.
It was not quite as large as Will had first thought. He had been expecting something almost his size, but this seal seemed only about as tall as Elizabeth or Peggy. Of course, its round sausage-like body was still much heavier than any human so he would have trouble lifting it even with all his strength built up from working in the forge.
"GENTS!" a voice yelled spooking Will and the seal back to sitting positions as they looked up to the deck.
Just above, they could see the brim of a large dark feathered hat peeking over the side. Will instantly sidled backward to plaster his body against the side of the Pearl, praying he would not be seen as the owner of the voice called out:
"Let's leave this pitiful scrap heap behind."
C'mon Pegsy where are ye? Yer must have escaped by now.
Jack Sparrow gritted his teeth as his eyes wandered over the bedraggled remains of the crew of the Interceptor. Only a handful of the crew were left, all tied around the main mast of the Black Pearl. He could see Gibbs struggling alongside Marty and Cotton while Annamaria delivered a ferocious snarl to a couple of Barbossa's leering men. There was even the whelp's bonnie lass Elizabeth. She was lovely in that red dress, with those pouty lips and a long swan neck framed by those luxurious blond locks. Jack, however, was not in the mood to appreciate the lady in all her glory as his eyes continued to search for that mass of copper curls he knew so well.
Come on lass! Come on, yer smart enough to try to double cross me then yer smart enough to escape a sinking ship.
He had hoped she would be smart enough to have swum away when he told her to. Peggy was usually self-serving when it came to saving her skin.
Then again when it came to the Will Turner, her sense of self-preservation and common sense seemed to fly out the window.
Stupid bloody whelp! You just had to ruin her for me didn't ye? Jack scowled as he looked out over the distant waters beyond the Black Pearl.
There, low in the water, the Interceptor was sinking, her bow dipped below the water with the stern following slowly but surely behind.
It would not be long till the entire ship was sunk, courtesy of Barbossa. The madman did delight in blowing his prey up when he had no further use for it.
He just hoped she was not there on it when it blew to pieces.
C'mon Pegsy, c'mon.
"I don' see the witch here cap'in." one of the men of the Pearl snarled in Barbossa's ear. "She mus've been shot or sunk wit' the ship."
From where he stood Jack could see Barbossa's lip curl as he twirled the gold medallion of cursed Aztec gold in his fingers.
"No Raben, no. She'll be around 'ere somewhere. After all, Peggy Blake would never dare leave her precious Captain Jack behind."
"That's what you think" Jack muttered to himself, forcing down the shiver that threatened to run through him as Barbossa's sneer widened sidelong at him.
Something was wrong. The old pirate did not seem phased by Peggy's absence despite being so desperate to get his revenge on her earlier.
Indeed, it seemed he had been expecting this news all along.
But what on earth did he know that Jack didn't? Had he seen her in the water below?
Jack cautiously sidled up to the railing and peeked over the edge.
No. There were only waves lapping against the ship and perhaps the tail of a seal as it snuck onto the ship through a hole below.
Huh? A seal? Jack frowned as he squinted for a better look.
But there was no sign of the marine mammal.
Jack remembered the time that he and the Pearl had been taking provisions from Tortuga after a bad storm. He had decided to stay on the beach and take a cheeky skinny dip with a couple of very eager wenches on one of the smaller beaches when a rather playful seal pup stole his shirt straight from the beach.
Despite its blubbery form, the little rascal had made it to the safety of the ocean and had disappeared with his shirt, much to the amusement of the two ladies Jack was entertaining. How they had cooed over the creature while he had chased after it into the cold waves completely stark naked.
Jack rolled his eyes as he remembered Barbossa's chortles at his expense when he had tried to explain what happened to the crew the next morning, half-dressed and drenched to the bone. A right fool he had looked.
And now here he was, looking a right fool again as he tried to listen into Barbossa's whispered command to Raben.
"Take some men down below and search the ship. Take a net with ye."
"A net Cap'in?"
"Aye…a witch has many forms; best be prepared for anything."
"An' which form are we lookin' for Cap'in?"
Jack leaned in to listen as Barbossa opened his mouth but was unable to hear his old enemy's reply as those buffoons Pintel and Ragetti sneered from where they were taunting their new prisoners on the mast.
"Any of you so much as thinks the word parley, I'll 'ave your guts for garters!"
There was a rush of cloth as Elizabeth ducked out from under the ropes that bound her to dive for the railing.
KABOOOOOOOOM! SPLASH!
No…Jack's eyes widened as the Interceptor burst apart violently, the shockwave running through the water and hitting the Black Pearl so hard she rocked a little unsteadily.
"Pegs…" he breathed. Falling overboard was one thing, but being drowned and blown to bits in a sinking ship…
Jack shut his eyes, barely heeding Elizabeth's screeches as she lunged for Barbossa.
"STOP IT! STOP IT!"
"Welcome back miss!" Barbossa sneered with vile victory as he caught the young lady by the scruff of her dress. "Ye took advantage of our hospitality the last time. It holds fair now that you return the favour."
And with that he tossed her straight at a group of leering men who wasted no time pawing at her dress, trying to rip it off as several of them tried to pin her struggling form down.
"BARBOSSA!"
Jack's eyes flew open in shock, his nostrils flaring as he and everyone else aboard the ship turned to see a figure clambering up the port railing to stand dramatically on the railing above a cannon.
There was a silence as all parties on board the Black Pearl froze in their spot. Even the group of men trying to gang up on Elizabeth had stilled in shock as a sopping wet but fiercely determined Will Turner leapt down from his spot and grabbed Jack's gun from where it had been confiscated on a nearby barrel along with his coat, hat and other effects.
Well blow me down, the bloody whelp survived. Jack's eyebrows rose as he searched the skyline behind the lad.
No sign of Peggy, but if Will were here then that had to mean she was not far behind. Jack doubted the lad would be so put together if his little friend was dead or hurt. For all his guff about his lady love Elizabeth, the boy did care about his friend, Jack would give him that much credit.
"She goes free!" Will snarled as he pointed Jack's gun at Barbossa's confused face.
"What's in yer head boy?!" the pirate growled frustrated that his fun had been interrupted by this foolish whelp.
"She goes free," Will repeated, barely flinching as Barbossa sauntered almost lazily into the path of the gun, so it was pointed directly at his scraggly bearded chin.
"Yer've only got one shot, and we can't die." the older captain smirked smugly.
"Don't do anything stupid!" Jack hissed at Will hoping he would pick up the hint.
But as always with the whelp, Jack's prayers went unanswered.
Foolish boy. he groaned in his head as Will leapt back from Barbossa to stand on the railing of the ship again, this time pointing the pistol of Jack's gun under his chin much to Elizabeth's dismay as she struggled against her captors.
"You can't! I can."
"Like that." Jack cursed softly.
"Who are you?" Barbossa frowned at the young blacksmith. There was something familiar about the face he would admit, but the lad did not look like a pirate. He was too put together, too clean, too innocent. He must have been freshly lured to piracy for the daring doos and romance of it all, who had not yet realized the cutthroat world he had just entered.
Gods how Barbossa hated young lads like this. They were always such a hassle.
"No one! No one!" Jack leapt in front of his old first mate before Will could open his mouth. "Distant cousin of my aunt's nephew, twice removed. Lovely singing voice though, eunuch." He added in a whisper only to cringe as Will steamrolled over the top of him.
"My name is Will Turner! My father was Bootstrap Bill Turner. His blood runs through my veins!"
And now he's gone, and ruined plan B. Well done William! Well done. Jack sighed as he skulked away to a safe spot.
"It's the spittin' image of ol' Bootstrap Bill, come back to 'aunt us!" Ragetti bleated as he pointed with a shaking finger up at Will.
"On my word do as I say, or I'll pull this trigger and be lost to Davy Jones Locker!"
"Name yer terms, Mister Turner," Barbossa said calmly, ever the professional despite his turn of the tide.
"Elizabeth goes free!" Will repeated loudly and the older pirate nodded and waved him off.
"Yes, yes we know that one! Anythin' else?"
And a little something for good ol' Jackie ey?! Come on! Something for Jack! I got ye this far didn't I? Jack gesticulated silently to the lad only to scowl and almost facepalm as the boy said eagerly:
"A-and the crew. The crew are not to be harmed,"
"Agreed!" Barbossa grinned wickedly up at the amateur before him holding out a grubby hand to shake on the deal.
Idiots. I'm surrounded by idiots. Jack thought shooting a dirty look at Will as the lad lowered himself down onto the deck to shake the pirate's hand.
Well, he had tried. No one could say now that he didn't try to keep the boy alive. Whatever happened from now on was all on the whelp's stupid, STUPID head.
And it was only about to get worse.
Will had barely let go of Barbossa's hand when Raben and six other crewmen thudded up the stairs and onto the deck. Shouting and hollering in success as they hauled something on deck in a large net.
Something heavy and writhing.
"We found 'er Cap'in. We found the little witch in the hold jus' like ye said!" Raben smiled as eagerly as a dog that had just successfully retrieved the ball his master had thrown for him.
"Well done lads. Well done. Bring 'er forward." Barbossa's grin widened as he beckoned to the men. He had the medallion, Bootstrap's whelp and now he had the witch in his grasp. This truly was a fortuitous day.
Will backed away from Barbossa, glancing at Jack, but the pirate was not sparing him a second thought. His eyes fixed on the creature in the net as it hissed and spat at the sailors with sharp teeth.
What on Earth is Barbossa playing at here?
Jack frowned as the six crewmen dumped their catch onto the deck, one of them leaping back to avoid the biting teeth as the brown-furred creature thrashed around trying to free itself of its bindings.
"Ye bloody cowards," Barbossa strode forward confidently towards the creature's tail grabbing the net and pulling it aside. "Come on runt! It's time to face the music."
Will's eyes widened as he recognised the seal that had saved him earlier, roll out of the netting and onto its stomach. It reared up at Barbossa with bared teeth, hissing, spitting and grunting so aggressively at the pirate that half the crew were backing away from it in fear.
"Now, now Miss Blake there be no need for that nonsense!" Barbossa rolled his eyes as he drew his pistol from his belt and aimed it right at the snapping snarling face.
"What are you doing that for? It's just a seal!" Will shook his head incredulously at the older man. Miss Blake? What the hell was this old pirate talking about? Why was he calling a seal by Peggy's name?
Had all the years drinking rum under the Caribbean sun fried his brain?
"A seal lad? Nay. This be no seal." Barbossa grunted, hardly phased by the lad's impudence. "She's a selkie. A daughter of the ocean, and the witch that cursed me crew."
"Selkie?!" Gibbs shouted from where he was tied. "No that cannot be. There are no Selkies in the Caribbean!"
"The man's right Barbossa." Jack scoffed as he looked the seal up and down. "The East India Trading Company wiped out all the selkies in these waters a long time ago. Now maybe if we sailed back to Scottland we might be able to find some very comely selkie ladies who I am sure would be excellent company for a night or two, but here in these waters, fat chance."
"Aye, that's what I thought too until today. Now Lass if ye wouldn't mind transformin' back to human form. It is difficult to negotiate with ye in this state." the older pirate cocked the gun earning himself a shout from Gibbs and surprisingly one from a member of his crew.
"Captain no! If she really is a Selkie then you'll bring bad luck on us all if ye kill her!"
"Yeh! O'Conner is right!"
"Aye, if we hurt 'er we'll only end up getting' another curse upon us."
"He's mad! You're all mad!" Elizabeth cried out from her spot.
Mad? They're insane! Will agreed bewildered as murmurs of ascent flooded the crew of the Black Pearl and the Interceptor.
"Well, when ye put it that way." Barbossa grinned suddenly turning his gun on Jack's temple. "Now Pegsy. Be a good girl and turn back or I kill ol' Jackie right here and now. Come on! You know I mean it!" he shouted so loudly that even Will flinched at the volume.
"Pegs." Jack whispered at the seal which looked up at him with big round dark eyes "If that really is you kid, then please just transform back. Come on lass, ye owe me one."
There was a silence as the seal stared at Jack for one long moment then began to back away, making its way towards a broken piece of white sail left over from the collapse of the Interceptor's mast from the earlier fight.
"Goddammit!" Jack sighed, shutting his eyes as he felt rather than saw Barbossa's finger hover over the trigger.
"I'm getting' impatient lass!"
"Wait-hold on! We don't need to do this-" Will cried out holding up a placating hand to stop Barbossa who just snarled at him.
"Back off lad. Ye already made yer deal, now stay outta this! The professionals are talkin' now."
"OY LOOK!" Marty's voice rang out the loudest over all the hubbub.
Will wheeled around and Jack opened his eyes.
The seal was writhing on the ground, tail thrashing, as a roar escaped the fanged snout which had started to move grotesquely backwards, the flat nose lengthening to a small point while the jaw flattened out and the whiskers fell from her face as if plucked from the root.
"Sweet Jesus, Mary, Joseph, and the donkey that took them all to Bethlehem!" Gibbs gasped in horror as he tried to form the shape of the cross across his chest while his hands were half-bound.
He was not the only one alarmed by the disturbing transformation.
Elizabeth's face was green as she desperately tried to herself back from gagging, barely even noticing when one of her captors fainted as the tail of the seal suddenly shrunk down and split apart with a violent snapping sound, the tail fins paling to the colour of lightly tanned pale skin as fur disintegrated before their very eyes.
The torso flippers that had been short but powerful for swimming elongated and grew, the webbing between the fingers sliding back as bones cracked into the shape of opposable thumbs. What once was the blubbery tubular body of a seal, seemed to fall away to reveal a woman's curvy back that was quickly covered by a long mane of copper-coloured curls that had sprung from the top of a now humanoid skull, coiling around the shell of ears that sprouted at the sides of her head.
"AHHHGH!" Peggy Blake cried out in pain, spine bending at an awful angle as her insides began reforming themselves to fit into her now very naked, and very humanoid frame which fell flat onto the deck hard.
"Gods" she panted, clutching at her stomach as her gut finished rearranging itself, horribly aware of the cold winds brushing her bare back as she curled in on herself on her side in the foetal position.
She did not know what was more embarrassing, transforming in front of everyone in such a grotesque way or laying stark naked on the floor like a useless fish.
"Peggy?" Elizabeth sounded so far away and strangely muted.
Despite her attempt to stay calm, tears of humiliation pricked the corners of Peggy's eyes as she felt a pair of feet slowly approach her.
With each step the man took, she could hear men whispering and muttering worriedly, fear lacing the crowd around her.
Murmurs of "witch" hit her ears as did "pelt" and "cursed".
"HEY! Leave her alon-oof!" Will's voice tried calling out to her only to get cut short as Barbossa hissed.
"Grab 'im!"
There was a scuffling, heavy thuds and grunts of pain. Peggy did not need to look to know that Will had been punched into submission.
I'm done for. Hector might not kill me but he can make me suffer. Peggy bit her lip, flinching as she saw a hand reach out through the corner of her eye.
Spurred by instinct more than sense she snarled at the owner of the limb, her canines still sharp and fang-like, only to freeze in shock as she caught sight of who was beside her.
It was Jack. He was kneeling with his coat in his hands, his eyes narrowed warily as they glanced down to her mouth. Peggy shut it hastily, cursing herself for her lack of control. Even after a few minutes of transformation, her brain always took a while to snap back to being fully human.
"Easy Pegsy," the pirate murmured. "Easy. It's just me."
"Sorry." She mumbled, eyes falling ashamedly to the floor as she gingerly sat up doing her best to cover her body. Luckily for her, her curls were long enough to cover her breasts and shoulders a little, but it was still a relief when Jack drew his coat around her shoulders to cover her back.
"How are you feeling?" He muttered as he pulled the ends of the coat over her legs to help her cover herself.
"My skull just changed its fundamental shape twice in the past hour. How do you think I feel?" she mumbled as she rubbed her pulsing head.
"Like yer ready to tear ol' Barbossa's gizzard to shreds," Jack smirked at her, brown eyes softening slightly as she snorted into his shoulder.
"Gizzard, eye-sockets, I'll take what I can get," she grunted leaning into his touch. The smell of rum and salt around her was oddly soothing. It was warm, it was familiar. It was very Jack.
"Well, ain't this just a sight for sore eyes." Barbossa stalked up to Peggy's bare feet, lip curled in a satisfied sneer at her vulnerable, exposed state. "Hello brat. Miss me?"
"Can't say I have, ye old codfish." Peggy clipped, not liking how the old pirate's eyes roved hungrily up her legs and over her body.
"Well, I must say this is a definite improvement on how ye were the last time we met. Ye have grown into yer looks haven't ye lass?" Barbossa purred licentiously and despite her attempt to stay stoic Peggy could not help but shrink into Jack ever so slightly.
Flirty and teasing though he may have been, Jack would never look at her like that. Jack was still safe.
Barbossa was…ugh she dared not think about it lest she throw up.
And it was not just the captain leering at her.
Will grimaced with disgust as he caught sight of several men licking their lips, their hungry gazes travelling up and down her bare legs as if they were strips of meat.
Disgusting pigs. First Elizabeth and now Peggy? Is there no low they won't stoop to? Will struggled against the three burly men holding him back but could hardly move for their grip.
"Now, now Barbossa, one would think you'd never seen a naked woman before." Jack's voice was sarcastic like usual, but Peggy felt his grip tighten around her shoulders as his brown eyes hardened ever so slightly on his old first mate's face. "Besides it's our just Pegsy. Remember? Little Pegsy?"
"Oh, I remember," Barbossa sneered smugly at Jack, like a cat enjoying toying with the mouse in his paws. "Ye just can't help yourself can ye Jack? Yer precious little cabin girl gets herself in trouble and ye just have to gallantly swoop in for the rescue."
"It's either that or face her ghost haunting me from beyond the grave mate." Jack snorted airily, but Peggy could feel him stiffen in readiness by her side. "You know how annoying this youngin' can be when ye ignore her for too long."
"Aye…annoying." Barbossa looked down at Peggy, nostrils flaring as lust gave way to wrath. "That curse o' yers has been a real thorn in my side for too long lass."
"Alright, that's it!" Peggy rolled her eyes as she forced her legs underneath her and tried to stand up. Jack caught her as her legs buckled, holding her back and covered as she pointed her finger at Barbossa and hissed in his face "Look Hector I have no idea what you or your two-bit chumps have been drinking for the past ten years but come on the game has gone on long enough. I may be a selkie and I might be able to turn from oversized sea dog to human but come on? Curses? Really? Have you run out of that many scapegoats that you've got to turn to hocus pocus of all things to cover up for your mistakes?"
"It ain't hocus pocus!" Some of the men yelled and snarled at her from the side.
"Aye! We all heard ye lass! Ye cursed us plain as anythin'! You said we could eat, drink, steal and take as many women as we wanted but all we'll feel is unquenchable misery for the rest of our lives and that's exactly what happened!" Pintel raised a dirty knife from his belt to point threateningly at Peggy, earning her many nasty shouts and jeers from the crew of the Black Pearl.
"That's right!"
"Aye!"
"Aye! I haven't been able to taste a drop of rum for ten whole years!" one man shouted, his voice shaking as his eyes filled with tears.
"Poor man." Jack grimaced in sympathy, though Will was glad to notice the pirate kept a firm grip on Peggy as more shouts were hurled her way along with some spit and curses.
"Aye, we have all felt the effects of yer magic lass, even if ye haven't." Barbossa's voice rang out dramatically over the rest of his men, forcing them all to quieten down.
"OH MY GOD! How many times do I have to tell you, ingrates! I didn't curse you! You're just feelin' the effects of your own hubris that's all it-"
KATHWACK!
"Barbossa!" Will shouted as he watched Peggy's face fly to the side, Barbossa's hand pulling away from her now very red cheek to push Jack away before he could put himself between them.
"Hubris?! HUBRIS?!" The man roared in Peggy's shocked face as he grabbed her painfully by the jaw and yanked her head up hard to snarl into her face "Hubris is it? That I cannae feel the heat of the sun on yer skin when I touch it. Hubris that all food and drink that touches my tongue tastes like ash. Do ye know how long it has been since I felt the spray of the sea on me face and the cold wind? Aye the curse of Isla de Muerta turns us into the living dead lass, but it was yer magic that made us suffer like ghosts of the Locker!"
"You don't know that!" Peggy rasped, grunting in pain as she felt the bony fingers squeeze her jaw painfully tight.
"Oh, but I do, lass. I do know." Barbossa hissed, his pungent breath almost shocking her still-sensitive nose. "I know because I felt the magic that night, just as surely as I felt it when the Curse of Cortez fell upon us. Ye put this curse upon us. Yer with yer selkie witchcraft. And now ye are going to undo it."
"But I don't-I don't know how-"
"Liar!"
"I'm not a liar! Really Hector I don't know. Let me go!"
"Not until ye-AH!" Barbossa stumbled back, two thin stripes of red now adorning his gaunt scraggly cheek.
Many of the Interceptor and Black Pearl's crew gasped as Peggy also stumbled back, crimson blood staining the claw-like nails on her right hand.
"Sqwaaak! Shiver me timbers!" Paulie the Parrot squawked excitedly from where he was being held captive in a birdcage near Jack's effects. The sound mingled nastily with the shriek of Jack the Monkey as it looked down upon the scene from above in the rigging, fangs bared as his master straightened up and touched a hand to his cheek.
"Ah-hahaha!" Barbossa chuckled, but his eyes were a cold fire as he shook out his hand to rid himself of the touch of blood, his footsteps slow but threatening "Well, ain't you just beggin' for a thrashing. Bosun get the cat-o-nines-"
"NO!" Will bellowed desperately struggling against his bonds only to receive another hard punch in the guts to stop him. Oh gods if he had thought Barbossa was murderous before it was nothing compared to the bloodthirst in his eyes now as he advanced on Peggy who was scrambling backwards away from him fangs bared in a snarl once more.
"Woah-woah-woah! Woah! Whoa there, now, woah there, now then now! Now then! Then now? Agh! Bugger it! What was I trying to say?" Jack's loud confused voice cut through the excitement of the would-be fight as he stepped between the angry pirate and the growling selkie woman, hands up in token of peace. "Ah yes. Time out you two! Time out! There's no need for this sort of violence on MY ship."
"There would not need for violence on MY ship Jack, if ye had taught yer little brat some respect," Barbossa spat venomously, disappointed that his path to his prey was once again blocked.
"HA! Respect?! Respect! I don't need lectures on respect from the mutineering bastard that threw me overboard and got himself cursed not once but twice!" Peggy hissed.
If Will had his hands free he would have facepalmed. And to think Jack sneered at him and called him reckless? Peggy was unarmed, barely dressed and already she was rearing to go for round two with a vicious pirate that was out for her blood. He would be impressed by her boldness if he weren't terrified for her safety.
Apparently, Jack shared his exasperation because he shot Peggy a warning look over his shoulder and snapped.
"Oy! shut it! Both of you!" he added with a glance towards Barbossa whose chest was heaving up and down with deep angry breaths.
"Honestly, I keep you two apart for ten years and in five minutes you see each other again and already you're at one another's throats. That must be a new record." Jack muttered, more to himself than to the crowd. "Now look, we've all had a pretty hectic day. Lots of things achieved, and still lots more to do. I mean," He gestured to Will's struggling form and grinned "Ye got yer medallion and ye got Bootstrap's whelp! What more could you ask for? Now all that's left to do is scuttle back to the Isla de Meurta, drop a little bit of his blood into that bloody casket and Bob's yer uncle. We can all just kick back and enjoy a keg of rum don't while we figure out what to do with this one's curse."
"But I don't know how to undo it!" Peggy blurted out and Jack waved her off.
"One thing at a time love, one thing at a time."
"Aye…one thing at a time." Barbossa's lip curled as his gaze turned upon Elizabeth standing in the corner with her guard of pirates, her face paling as she met his vicious gaze. "And I know just what to do first. GENTLEMEN!" He shouted and his men stood to attention.
"Set a course for Black Sam's Spit!"
Peggy stared in horror at the scene unfolding before her.
It had been an hour's short trip from the waters where the Interceptor had sunk to Black Sam's Spit, a small scrap of island with only a few coconut trees and bushes and sand. Lots and lots of sand.
Peggy thought it should hardly count as an island but what did her opinion matter?
She was just a selkie way out of her depth, who was the prisoner of one of the foulest pirates she had ever met.
And to think I once considered him my friend. She glowered as she was forced back alongside a struggling Will Turner at the base of the Pearl's mizzenmast where they were pushed back against by many hands, while several guns pointed at both their necks.
Fortunately for Peggy, Jack had persuaded Barbossa to give her some spare pants and a shirt to cover herself beneath with his jacket. Barbossa agreed if only to keep Jack quiet on the journey and to stop his men from leering at Peggy and earning a swipe of her claws. The two cuts she had left on his cheek were shallow and had long since stopped bleeding, but it made the men cautious about how they approached her when he gave the order to tie her up.
However, Barbossa's newfound wariness of the selkie did little to deter him from bringing out the plank and forcing lady Elizabeth to walk on it at the point of many, many swords.
The noblewoman gulped as she looked over the edge of the thin wooden board. It was a long drop, but she would survive. She just hoped her dress would not weigh her down like the last time. That would be bad luck.
"Barbossa you lying bastard!" Will growled as he lunged against his bonds for Barbossa, only to get held back by many strong arms. "You swore she'd go free!"
"Don't dare impugn me honour, boy!" Barbossa spat irritably at Will. He was tired of all these brats back-chatting him all day when all he wanted was for things to keep running smoothly.
"I agreed she'd go free. But it was you who never specified when or where." He chuckled as he nodded to the men who leapt at the opportunity to gag the rebellious young blacksmith with a raggedy old cloth and slam his head back hard into the foremast.
"Will! Will don't you'll only make it worse for her." Peggy grabbed Will's hand as he groaned in pain from the impact against his skull.
"Not too rough lads!" the Barbossa called, though he looked satisfied with his men's handiwork. "We still need Mister Turner alive."
There were sniggers and hollers from the men as Will blinked in a daze, trying desperately to refocus his attention on Elizabeth who was watching him over her shoulder in terror.
"Speaking of loss, it does seem a shame to lose something so fine, don't it lads?" Barbossa leered at the blonde woman's fretting. Silly thing, did she think he would be so courteous and kind after she had betrayed the rules of hospitality? "So I'll be havin' that dress back before you go." He held out an expectant hand.
Elizabeth's nostrils flared as with defiant fingers she began to unlace the front of the red dress and tear it off unceremoniously.
This blackguard. As if humiliating Peggy was not enough for him already. Now he wanted to humiliate her? Fine. Fine! He wanted the ruddy dress back fine. She did not mind in the slightest. It would at least make the swim to shore that much easier.
Barbossa snorted derisively as Elizabeth tossed it at his head with as much anger as she could muster.
"Hmm still warm." he chuckled as he shoved the garment into the hands of his crew and stalked back onto the deck arms folded as he leaned back to watch the show.
The little chit, even after all of this still had attitude. Good, she could bother someone else while she was stranded.
Will felt his heart hammer in his chest as Elizabeth turned her back on them to walk back to the edge of the plank.
"She's got this Will." He heard Peggy whisper, her fingers lacing with his despite their predicament. "Lizzy can swim, she can make it. She can make it." It almost sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than him. Still, the thought counted.
He gripped Peggy's hand tight in his though it did little to stop the pounding of his blood in his ears as Elizabeth turned for one last look back at him.
He desperately wanted to tell her he was sorry. Sorry, he got her involved in this. Sorry, he did not fight harder or make a better deal. He wanted to tell her he loved her but-
"TOO LONG!" The bosun of the Black Pearl roared, raising his foot to stamp hard on the plank, shaking it violently.
"E-zzbeeett!" Will's shout was muffled by the gag in his mouth as Elizabeth fell off the side of the plank with a loud shriek of fright.
There was a heart-stopping moment as Peggy gripped his hand so tight he could hardly feel his fingers, her fear silent but just as palpable as they heard the echoes of a splash from below.
Pintel and Ragetti peered over the side at the sound, the latter groaning in disappointment. "Aww! Darn, she's swimming."
Peggy and Will's shoulders both relaxed as several men around them groaned, a couple of them exchanging betting money with their very smug shipmates while others just laughed at their plight.
Jack, who had been held captive by Koehler and Twigg right beside the plank, tried to join in the laughter, only to groan in pain as his captors cuffed him around the back of his dreadlocked head as they pushed him forward.
"I really hoped we were all past this." the pirate said as Barbossa sauntered up to him and wrapped a brotherly arm around his shoulders.
"Ah, Jack! Jack!" The old friend chuckled almost fondly, eyes dancing with disdainful amusement "Did ya not notice? That be the same island we made you governor of on our last little trip."
Jack turned to look back at the spit of land and gulped. Ah…yes, he had wondered why it had looked so familiar on the horizon.
"I did notice." he nodded to Barbossa who only smirked.
"Perhaps you'll be able to conjure up another miraculous escape. But I doubt it." there was a slide of metal as Barbossa drew his cutlass and pointed it at Jack's chin, just as three other swords poked from the sides. "Off you go."
But Jack hesitated.
"Last time you left me a pistol with one shot." he prompted.
"By the powers, yer right! Where be Jack's pistol, bring it forward." Barbossa ordered, lowering his sword as one of his men scuttled forward carrying Jack's pistol, his compass and his sword in a pile, along with their associated belts.
"Ah yes, well, seeing that there's two of us, a gentleman, would give us a pair of pistols." Jack tried but Barbossa just shook his head.
"It'll be one pistol as before, and you can be the gentleman and shoot the lady. And then starve to death yourself!" And with that, the Pirate tossed the pile of effects over the side.
"Jack wait!" Peggy squirmed but too late. Jack had dove right in after his belongings without a moment's thought.
"Idiot." Barbossa snorted as he heard the splash below, rolling his eyes once more towards Peggy and Will. The Witch and Bootstrap's brat. What a pair they made. Stubborn, fierce and reckless. He could see why Jack kept them both around. For all his complaining he was very good at collecting such easy marks to target. "Now what to do with you two…"
Barbossa circled them, round and round, calm and calculating eyes flying up and down searchingly over his prey.
"Hmm…so…it's like that is it." The captain mused softly to himself as he noticed Will's and Peggy's entwined hands. Of course, of course, the two whelps would be holding hands. How sickeningly sweet.
"Well, we cannot have the two of ye causin' a ruckus in the cells. It wouldn't be fair to yer precious crewmates." He sneered at Will who tensed under his intense scrutiny. It was almost like being surveyed by a hungry shark.
"Bosun!" he barked after a long pause "Take Miss Blake to her room and get her some better clothes. She'll be with us for some time. As for mister Turner and his lot" he spared one last contemptuous glance for Will. "Take them to the brig."
"Aye, Captain!"
"Nhmmm! Waif!" Will shouted through the gag, lurching forward as Peggy reached out to cup his cheek consolingly.
"Will! Will listen to me, it's going to be okay. I'm going to be fine! Everything's going to be fine. Just go down to the brig, I'll figure something out."
"Nhmm! Phegggyy!" he struggled for her as the Bosun's large hand clapped down on her shoulder as he and several men began steering her away towards the glass doors of the Captain's cabin
"Will! Will! Please don't struggle!" She called out as she saw a couple of the men begin to shove at him to join the crew of the Interceptor by the hatch on the far side of the deck "Will it's okay! Will, I'll be fine! It's going to be alright!"
"Nhmm! Nhmm! Phegggyy! Phegggyy! GUHH!" he doubled over as a fist thudded into his solar plexus winding him but also knocking the gag out of his mouth. "Ugh! Peggy no! Let her go! Peg! PEG!"
"No! Stop! Don't hurt him! Don't hurt him! HECTOR YOU BASTARD IF YOU HURT ONE HAIR ON HIS HEAD I'LL BLOODY KILL YOU!" She called out to Barbossa as she saw several men dogpile onto Will's struggling form. But it was no use.
Barbossa only smiled at her vindictively as he flicked a hand in her direction.
There was a heavy thump on the back of her head and then…
Darkness.
Notes:
And there we have it. Chapter 9 is up.
Apologies for any OOC behaviour but I was on a roll. I swear my fingers could not stop. I had to force myself to cut the chapter off when I did because i could not decide on a good point to end it XD
I always thought it would be interesting how the dynamic might change if Jack and Barbossa had a third member to balance them out. What with Peggy and Barbossa being such fierce hotheads it made a weird sort of sense that Jack (who is canonically less bloodthirsty than the average pirate) would be the calm one keeping the peace in his own weird way. Whether or not Barbossa or Peggy would listen to him is another matter entirely.
Also yeah Peggy is a Selkie. A mythical human/seal hybrid similar to a mermaid that originated from the U.K.
I was going to make her a traditional fish-tailed mermaid like they had in "On Stranger Tides" but I realised that had been done so many times before. I mean, I love all the POTC fanfics with Little Mermaid references/inspiration but I wanted to try something different and something about the Selkie just felt right.
Peggy's selkie seal form appearance is inspired by the Caribbean Monk Seal, a species of seal that was widely hunted during the 1700s through to the mid-20th Century. Sadly they were officially declared extinct in 2008 due to overhunting for their blubber, body oils and their meat by humans. They are cousins to the Hawaiian Monk Seal and the Mediterranean Monk Seal.
I know selkies are supposed to be akin to grey seals, but given that mermaids have often been depicted to have a very diverse array of tails and fish markings, I thought it would be interesting to give the Selkies a similar range of diversity. There are many different types of selkie-like mythological creatures from across the world so why shouldn't there be many variations of their appearance?
Also yes, I know that Selkies can transform and have powers related to their magical pelts...but will be addressed later on I promise *wink wink* ;)
If you enjoyed this chapter please keep reading, faving and following for more, and please write a review if there is anything else you'd be interested in seeing moving forward or have some interesting feedback you'd like to share. I'm always open to constructive criticism.
See you the next time around.
Cheers
FuzzyBeta
Chapter 10: A Bottle of Rum
Summary:
"Welcome to the Caribbean love."
Notes:
*Trigger warnings: mentioned suicide, alcohol consumption, swearing and grotesque imagery. Ye have been warned!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Jack Sparrow stared at the horizon where a black ship with black sails was turning away from them and already getting smaller in the distance
There she was. The finest vessel he had ever sailed. He had been so close to having her in his hands once more, but she was leaving him behind.
Again.
Fate was a cruel mistress.
"That's the second time I've had to watch that man sail away with my ship." He panted as his eyes scanned the long stretch of ocean between the sandy shore he stood upon and the stern of the majestic black ship.
Gods that was a long swim. Barbossa was always good at rubbing salt water into the already festering wound.
Now this time it was a lot worse.
"Flipping bastard." He muttered under his breath.
"I'm…I'm going to take a look around."
Jack turned and through the corner of his eye saw Elizabeth Swann standing a few feet behind him on the beach, drenched to the bone but still lovely as ever in that white shift.
"You do that love." He shrugged, as he stumbled past her towards dryer sand under the shade of a tree. It was bad enough that he had to be stranded here a second time without her pity following him around like a ghost.
It did not take him long to shed his wet shoes or vest, both of which he hung above the sand on sticks he had found by the tree line.
A quick inspection of his compass and sword revealed little to no damage though his pistol was still waterlogged.
Jack sighed to himself. It was going to be ages till the powder dried out.
He sat down and began wiping at the outside of the weapon, his thoughts drifting as the warm wind blew his dreadlocks and dried his wet clothes.
That Barbossa. He should have known he would ditch him like this again. Then again, if it hadn't been for that blasted whelp William Turner none of this would have happened!
And as for Peggy-
Jack paused, sighing as he looked back out over the ocean.
A selkie. For two years, he had been sailing with a bloody selkie. And not just any selkie, but one of the last ones left in the Caribbean. The thought was depressing in its own right.
Of all the children of the ocean Jack had ever met selkies were perhaps some of the most agreeable. They were free spirits, wild and mischievous, not all too different from most pirates when he thought about it.
He had even slept with a selkie woman once. Oh, now that had been a most wild unforgettable night. The soft sand on the beach, the moonlight, and the ocean tickling their feet as the tide rolled in. What was her name again? Gods, it had been so long ago.
He had only been a young man then, only slightly younger than the whelp now that he thought about it. And the selkie, oh she had been a beauty. Long raven black hair, skin dark and smooth like polished mahogany, deep brown eyes and curves that would make a statue of Venus weep with envy. But the best was her personality.
Jack never usually cared to get to know his partners when he jumped into bed with them. All he wanted was a bit of fun and nothing else. Feelings tended to make things messy and awkward. But that selkie lass, she was a hoot. Great sense of humour and an excellent conversationalist. Kept him on his toes all night, verbally and physically.
She was so different from the few mermaids he had charmed on his adventures.
Mermaids were beautiful, but only in that eerie ethereal way, like a mirage on the water or a jewel in a dream. They were almost too perfect, too above it all.
But Selkies…well they had no magical glamour. If Jack had not seen them shed their skins or bare their claws and fangs they might have been able to pass for mere humans, albeit gorgeous ones.
Their beauty lay not in their faces but in their souls or so the old scribes said, and Jack could not help but agree.
Their loss had been felt heavily across the Caribbean after the great purge at the hands of the East India Trading Company. Many even said it was why the ocean gods were far less kind towards humans in recent years.
To think that one was still alive after all this time…and one so young.
Too young. Now that Jack thought about it. Peggy was only just of age and the purge had occurred a couple of years before she would have been born.
That could only mean two things. That one, some selkies might have escaped and were in hiding. Or two, and Jack felt this was more likely, a selkie woman had been taken prisoner.
Yes, Jack thought as he emptied the single bullet from his gun and rubbed it dry.
That had to be it. After all, Peggy had told him long ago that her father was a merchant. Would it be that unbelievable that one of those depraved, greedy bastards from the EITC took a selkie wife by force by stealing her pelt? What a pretty trophy that would make.
To think the last selkie of the Caribbean gave birth to a daughter in captivity as a devoted wife and slave to one of the vilest of humans. It almost made Jack sick thinking about it.
As a pirate, he loved stealing and plundering beautiful things it was true. But he had been around long enough to know that some treasures were never meant to be locked in a cage to rot.
And now that sod Barbossa has got Pegsy all locked up for himself. All because she had to babysit that stupid, stupid whelp! Jack shook his head, sighing as he saw Elizabeth approach him from the other side of the island.
As expected, it had barely taken the noblewoman twenty minutes to do one round of Black Sam's Spit and she was not impressed.
Well, what did she expect? A relaxing vacation in the middle of a blooming paradise?
Though Jack had to admit, Barbossa had been very generous providing her with a very handsome and capable companion like himself.
Face it, one night with me and she'd forget all about that bloody whelp. Jack smirked to himself, the sight drawing the young lady's eye.
"If you're going to shoot me then please do so without delay." She clipped irritably.
"Is there a problem between us Miss Swann?" Jack frowned up at the snippety woman. After everything she had been through at Barbossa's hands, he would have thought he was the more agreeable company for a lady like her.
"You were going to tell Barbossa about Will in exchange for a ship." Elizabeth spat folding her arms across her chest.
"We could use a ship." Jack scowled "The fact is I was going to NOT tell Barbossa about bloody Will in exchange for a ship, because so long as he did not know about bloody stupid Will, I had something to bargain with. Which now no one has, thanks to bloody stupid Will!" He stood up shakily, legs burning both from the hot sand and the long swim "In fact if it weren't for bloody stupid Will knocking me out and leaving me to die, Peggy and I might have been able to get rid of Barbossa before he even knew about that whelp's existence. But no here we are stranded! AGAIN!"
"Oh…" Elizabeth had the decency to look abashed, though still determined "But he still risked his life to save ours."
"HA!" Jack laughed bitterly as he began walking away.
Save them?! The cheek. Will Turner might play the gallant hero, but Jack knew deep down the boy was just as much a selfish, greedy and self-serving rat as he was. The only difference between them was that no one had called the lad out on his crap yet. But they would in time. He might be young and foolish now, but soon there would be a time when that boy would face responsibility for his actions and no one would give him that free pass, and how Jack looked forward to seeing that day come.
And speaking of trying days, he needed a drink right now. Thank God this island was well stocked with rum.
"But we have to do something to rescue him?!" Elizabeth's voice cut through Jack's angry thoughts as she stormed after him, her steps still graceful even though the sand was uneven and hot.
"Off ye go then! Let me know how that turns out." Jack shooed the troublesome female off with a mocking smile, but she was not backing down.
"But you were marooned on this island before weren't you, so we can escape in the same way you did then-"
"To what point and purpose young missy!" Jack snapped at her. "The Black Pearl is gone, and unless you have a rudder and a lot of sails hidden under that bodice-" He looked down at her lithe frame. Not quite as curvy as he usually liked but still not half bad. "-unlikely. Young Mister Turner will be dead long before you can reach him."
He tried to sidestep the young woman again, tapping a couple of trees and prodding the ground with his foot as he tried to remember the way to that bloody cache. But no. Elizabeth Swann was just as dogmatic as that bloody whelp in her pursuit of him.
"But you're Captain Jack Sparrow!" She cried out as she hounded him "You vanished from under the eyes of seven agents of the East India Company! You sacked Nassau Port without even firing a shot! Are you the pirate I read about or not?" she grabbed his shoulders to stop him from jumping on a patch of sand. "How did you escape last time?"
"…Last time…" Jack sucked in a deep soothing breath to stop himself from wringing the annoying lady's beautiful long neck "I was here a grand total of three days, all right?"
He turned and bent over to haul on the hidden trapdoor beneath the sand, revealing what appeared to be a small wooden cellar, dusty and unkempt and dark.
"Last time, the rum runners used this island as a cache," Jack explained as he carefully lowered himself into the hole. Ah good there were still some bottles left…and YES! They had rum. "They came by and I was able to barter passage off. From the looks of things, they've long been out of business. Probably, have your bloody friend Norrington to thank for that." He grunted as he tugged out two large bottles victoriously and stepped out of the hole.
"So that's it then?" Elizabeth sneered, her voice trembling with disappointment and barely suppressed rage and Jack wondered if bloody stupid Will knew what vicious beast lurked beneath his lady love's beautiful face. "That's the secret, grand adventure of the infamous Jack Sparrow? He spent three days lying on the beach drinking rum."
"Welcome to the Caribbean love," Jack smirked before striding back to his clothes.
They should be dry by now, and if not, well he could at least enjoy a drink and look at the waves.
"So…" Elizabeth rushed after him unable to let go of the conversation despite his dismissal. "Is there any truth to the other stories?"
"Truth?" Jack scowled. The little lady wanted truth did she? Well, then she could have it.
He rolled up his right sleeve and showed her the branded "P" for pirate under his sparrow tattoo. Under the light of the Caribbean sun, it looked gruesome and painful. Though not as painful as the awful long stitched scars from a nasty slicing whip he had received on his left arm several years ago. That injury seemed to make Elizabeth gulp in disgusted fascination.
She was especially unnerved when he pulled the collar of his shirt aside to reveal two dark and dreadful gunshot wounds over the right side of his chest.
Jack remembered the pain in them quite clearly, the memory further tainted by the recollection of young Peggy's frantic screams that rang through his ears even now as he grazed his fingers over the marks. The little lass had only been in his service for a few months and been in such hysterics as she tried to staunch the wounds with her small bare hands. Bloody hell how she had cried. The sound almost drove him around the bend. Still…it had stopped him from bleeding out to death, and she had stuck by him when most men would have left him to die…
"No truth at all." He sneered at Elizabeth as he withdrew his hand and sat on the sand. "We still have a month, maybe more. Keep a weather eye open for passing ships and our chances are fair." He uncorked his bottle of rum and took a swig. Ahh! That hit the spot. All this serious talking was grating on his nerves.
"And what about Will?" Elizabeth muttered, "We have to do something."
"You're absolutely right," Jack muttered though he could not help but notice that in all their conversation Elizabeth had not even mentioned her female friend once.
It had been "Will" this or "Will" that. Not a thought for the selkie that had risked her literal skin to help the whelp make it this far.
So much for valuing your friends. He thought to himself as he rolled the smaller rum bottle over to the noblewoman who picked it up uncertainly before a wave could wash it away.
"Here's to you Will Turner…and here's to you, Peggy Blake," Jack added as he raised his bottle high in a toast, delighting in the guilty expression that now flashed across Elizabeth's face at the mention of her forgotten friend. "The best cabin girl a pirate could ask for. I hope you give Barbossa hell."
With that, he took a large swig of rum, his eyes glancing beyond Elizabeth's delicate frame to the ocean beyond. The Black Pearl was long gone now, barely a speck of black could be seen on the horizon.
He felt rather than saw Elizabeth join him on the ground with a sigh as she uncorked her bottle of rum.
"Drink up, me hearties yo-ho." She muttered taking a swig of her drink and wincing as the strong alcohol hit her tongue.
Jack paused. There was a phrase he had not heard before.
"What was that Lizzy?" he quirked a brow at the woman curiously.
"It's Miss Swann." Elizabeth snapped but quickly softened as she realised how harsh she had sounded. "Nothing, just a song I learned as a child when I thought it would actually be exciting to meet a pirate." she chuckled almost fondly. "Peggy and I used to sing it all the time when we were young. She taught me quite a lot of the old sea songs, but this was one I learned on the passage from England."
"Well let's hear it." Jack prompted. A song was always good and he had not heard a new one for a while.
"No,"
"Oh, come on we've got the time!"
"No! I'll need to have a lot more to drink before that." Elizabeth mumbled, almost thoughtfully.
"How much more?" Jack smirked teasingly and was astonished to see her blush at the notion.
The little minx…was she enjoying his attentions?
He knew he was a charming man who could crawl into a woman's skirt without breaking a sweat. However, with how devoted she seemed to be to poor stupid Will Turner he had been willing to concede defeat in pursuing her.
But this…this changed everything.
Who'd have thought it ey? The Whelp's lady love is not quite as dedicated or innocent as he thought.
Hmm…perhaps there was some hope on this dismal spit of land after all…
"Hector you bloody scoundrel!" Peggy groaned as she rubbed the back of her head.
It was twilight, the sun was dipping below the horizon, staining the world a deep pink and luxurious purple through the window beside her while the sun glistened on the glassy ocean.
But for once Peggy did not find her eyes drawn to the magnificent sunset as she sat on the thin bed.
Her gaze was on the room she was in. It was a tiny cabin, not much bigger than her nook on the Interceptor. The wooden interior was pitch black like the rest of the Black Pearl, accented by the white sheets of the bed and the dark blue blanket that covered it. The mattress and pillow were somewhat more comfortable than the Interceptor's bedding and the large window by the bedside had a thick dark grey curtain to block out any light.
Beside the head of the bed was a tiny table built into the wood of the ship with a small wooden stool attached from the bottom that acted as a bedside table and desk, while underneath the bed lay a couple of small chests, filled with clothes and books. Around the ceiling, small wads of colourful silk and beading hung, along with some mobile trinkets from different ports visited while travelling.
It gave the otherwise dreary cabin a welcome splash of colour and life that was barely visible in any other part of the ship.
Peggy sighed as she reached up to touch a small mobile with little figurines of seals carved from walrus tusks that hung above the pillow of her bed.
How well she knew this room. For two years it had been her haven.
Her nook.
Her home.
And now here she was again after ten years.
Nothing had changed. It was almost exactly as she left it all those years ago.
When she had woken up from her concussion she had been so surprised to find herself here. She would have thought Barbossa would have destroyed the room and everything in it after disposing of her that night. But he had not.
Why?
Was it guilt? Or was he just too lazy to get anyone to clean it out?
Surely they must have assigned another cabin boy during all those long years…or would they? They were a cursed crew. who would want to be recruited to serve them?
Either way, she did not know whether to be comforted by the familiar surroundings or creeped out. It was so strange. It was as if she was standing in a small pocket of time, frozen and untouched. But someone had to have come in recently and touched the room for the bed was made and everything had been cleaned spotless.
There was a knock on the black wooden door and Peggy stiffened, pulling Jack's coat tighter around her shoulders. She felt so pathetic for clinging so much to the garment, but the smell of rum and Jack's musk kept her grounded. It was, she cringed inwardly, a safe smell. Jack for all his chaos and self-serving nature, was safe.
And now he was gone…again.
She was distracted from her glum thoughts as the door to her nook opened and the Bosun stepped through.
He was a tall, beefy man devoid of any hair over his body who walked around shirtless with only pants, boots and belts on which hung many vicious-looking weapons. His skin was as black as the Pearl itself with many painful scars and tattoos over his body and gold earrings pierced along his ears. His dark eyes were cold and unsympathetic as he stared Peggy down with a look of haughty disdain.
"Di Captain requests your presence." He snarled; his deep thick voice strained despite his attempts to remain professional.
Peggy was not frightened. After all, this man was used to barking orders at everyone on deck over a lot of noise, not addressing a lady with grace or tact. That was able to keep such composure around her despite his disdain was almost impressive.
However, she had to hold in her smirk of amusement as he held out a large bundle of clothes wrapped in a black cotton cloth.
"The captain requests you wear dis," He tossed the bundle towards her unceremoniously and she caught it deftly. "You have ten minutes. Then we must go."
And with that, he slammed the door in her face.
"Thank you." Peggy rolled her eyes as she opened the thin black ribbon holding the packaging together. Inside she found all the components for a dress, different to the red velvet gown Elizabeth had worn earlier.
It was a day dress, made more for a common woman than a noble lady. Admittedly it was better than any dress Peggy usually wore at home in Port Royal, perhaps it had belonged to a merchant's wife? The outer gown was made from a material of cornflower blue with sleeves that only went to the elbow and the petticoat beneath it was black. She had even been provided with the appropriate white shift and a pair of stays to go with it. For this, she was grateful, though the stays were perhaps a bit too small for her bust.
Peggy sighed as she finished securing the dress and looked down at her chest. Though lean and wiry from years of labour, she was still a naturally curvier build than the dainty delicate form of Elizabeth. Her cleavage would have no choice but to be out on display like some Tortugan wench.
She just hoped Barbossa would not lech too much.
Ugh! The thought of him leering at her like he had done when she had transformed was almost enough to make her puke. The nerve! The man was old enough to be her father…or was he old enough to be her grandfather?
Just how old is the old Codfish? Peggy wondered as she finished patting down the outer layers of her dress and pulled on a pair of leather boots provided for her.
It was strange. In all her years of knowing Jack and Barbossa she never really knew how old either man was. Even after ten years they just looked the same as ever. Sometimes it felt like both men had just popped out of the sea exactly as they were all rugged, scruffy and crazy.
She cursed herself as she looked down at her wrist and saw to her horror, that the Devil's mark was bare for all to see. God had anyone seen it? Had Jack seen it or had Will? She had to cover it. No one could know. Quickly in a flash she took the black linen that had wrapped her clothes and tore off a long strip to tie around her wrist. If anyone asked she could say she had sprained it in the battle. That should be a believable excuse.
There was a knock on the door, and she jumped.
"Just a moment!" Peggy called, wincing as her fingers tangled in her hair. Sometime when she had been dragged here her braid had come loose letting the mass of copper curls fly around into a tangle.
However, her prayers went unanswered as the Bosun bashed open the door to her room with a sneer.
"Ten minutes are up." He grunted reaching for her with a large rough hand only to have it swatted away with a cold quirked eyebrow as Peggy snapped:
"Give me a second, I'm doing my hair. I can't go to the captain looking like a wreck, can I? It would not be respectful or proper."
The Bosun's lip curled but he made no move to grab her again. It would seem his respect for the captain outweighed his disdain for her.
Still, Peggy did not think it would be wise to push her luck and so only settled for tying back the front locks of her hair behind her head with the black ribbon and leaving the rest of her curls loose down her back. It was not quite the neat job she usually would have preferred but it was the quickest option she had given how impatient her jailor seemed to be with her.
"Come on!" he growled grabbing her roughly by the arm as soon as the tie had been fastened barely even giving her a moment to dust herself off before she was out the door and into the captain's cabin.
It was a luxuriously large space, far more cluttered than the captain's cabin of the Interceptor. Indeed, Barbossa seemed to have only added to the chaos in the last ten years.
There were far more maps than Peggy remembered strewn around the desk and the dining table and rolls of parchment covered from head to foot in hastily scribbled notes and crossings out. Extravagant but aged rugs covered the wooden floor providing some colour and warmth to the space, though they were dim light of the candles
Bloody Hell Hector. Between you and Jack why can't you ever keep things tidy? Peggy sighed as her eyes drifted over the mess, her gut twinging with the strange familiar urge to rip herself from the Bosun's grip and clean everything up.
There was silence as she was led out of the room and out onto the deck.
It was surprisingly busy outside. Then again the Black Pearl had taken some damage from the battle with the Interceptor so her crew would be working double hard to repair her and then sail back to Isla de Muerta.
However, that was not what held Peggy's attention.
No.
It was the many skeletal forms that were working on the deck that held her spellbound.
She felt like she had walked right into a graveyard. It was not just their bodies the curse had corrupted but their clothes too. Everything that touched their skin seemed tainted by the curse. Cloth and flesh were washed away and rotted leaving mostly skeletons with a few sinews and occasionally some organs, like eyeballs or bits of skin.
So many of them still had eyes, all that turned to stare at her as she walked out into the moonlight, the only living creature amongst a crew of the damned.
Peggy gulped down hard on the lump of bile threatening to take hold of her throat as she looked up at the Bosun. His monstrously tall stature seemed even more intimidating without his thick muscles. The worst had to be his hands. Without muscle or tendon, it was chilling and disconcerting against her bare skin. It reminded her of those awful times she had been forced to gut and clean out a fish's innards when cooking.
Gods how she hated gutting fish. It was fine eating them raw while in her seal form. That was perfectly natural, but cleaning them out with her human hands and getting bits and pieces stuck in her fingernails was vile.
Peggy sucked in a deep breath as she turned her gaze up to the helm where a tall figure in a wide-brimmed feathered hat stood at the wheel, staring down at her.
It was scary how much Barbossa still looked like himself despite the transformation.
Peggy bit her lip as she drank in his gaunt skeletal cheeks and sparse hair that sprouted from his skeletal chin. His blue eyes were cold even though his teeth were exposed in a permanent skull's grin. His hat was tattered, and his long coat was cut to ribbons giving a ghostly effect as it billowed in the cold night air, ribcage exposed and empty of any lungs, gut or heart.
So you did become a heartless man. How fitting. Peggy mused as she met his eye from a distance.
"GIRL! GET UP HERE!" Barbossa's voice yelled from the perpetually grinning skeletal mouth. How he managed such a feat with barely a tongue, or vocal cords was beyond Peggy's understanding, nor did she think she wanted to.
Quietly she lifted her skirts to ascend the stairs to the poop deck without prompting from the bosun.
There was an eerie sense of quiet as she approached the captain of the cursed ship, the bustling undead crew, the whistling from the rigging and crashing waves creating a white noise in the back of Peggy's mind as she quietly joined Barbossa and stood beside the wheel.
There was a silence as the eyeballs in the skull turned to look at her, the lack of eyelids making the motion very disconcerting, but Peggy held herself together, nonetheless.
"Ye clean up well," Barbossa grunted, his tone surprisingly calmer than his shout.
"Thank you." She coughed, turning her body to look out over the deck rather than at him. It was easier watching the undead crewmen at work from a distance than being up close and personal with him.
"I remember a time neither Jack nor I could wrangle ye to touch a dress, much less wear one. An' now look at ye. All proper an' ladylike." Barbossa snorted with a roll of his eyes as he gently turned the wheel ever so slightly starboard.
"Times change," Peggy mumbled, eyes drifting to the waxing nearly full moon above as it pulled out completely from behind a cloud, bathing the entire deck in silver light.
As a hybrid between a Galleon and an East Indiaman, the Black Pearl's three black masts stood tall and her bearing proud as she pierced her way through the rolling waters below with the smoothness of a knife slicing through butter.
"Even after all these years…she's still a beauty." Peggy sighed and Barbossa hummed in agreement.
"Aye, the Pearl is a treasure in her own right. Perhaps one of the few that remain in these waters."
Peggy felt his gaze fix on her but refused to meet it.
"If you're wondering how I survived the purge then I'm afraid I can't give you an answer to that."
"No, I don't think ye could." Barbossa shook his head. "Yer wouldn't have been born anyways. But yer parent would have survived-"
"My mother."
"Ahh…" Barbossa sighed, looking back over his ship. "Yer father stole her pelt and made her his wife."
"Yes." Peggy clipped, eyes burning as her heart clenched painfully in her chest.
"And what of yer pelt?" Barbossa prompted. "Ye transformed but the crew an' I cannae find a seal skin anywhere on this ship."
"And you never will." Peggy's teeth gritted. "Contrary to what the legends say, us selkies do not need to wear the pelt to shift forms but having it on you does help make the transformations easier, quicker and less painful. Also while we wear it we don't have to lose our clothes."
"Hmm…now that I did not know." Barbossa nodded thoughtfully "So where is it then?"
"Like I'd ever tell you," Peggy growled, turning her head to glare at the skeletal man who just chuckled darkly.
"Ha! Careful Lass. Ye may be gettin' the special treatment now but that can all change."
There was a silence as Peggy looked back over the ship, fingers twisting in her skirts. Thank goodness her pelt was safely far away; hidden somewhere even she could not reach right now. But that did not mean Barbossa did not have other means to make her comply with his demands.
"So what do you want with me? Why are we out here?"
"Can't a gentleman want the company of a beautiful lady for an evening without an agenda?" Barbossa sneered and Peggy rolled her eyes.
"We both know you're hardly a gentleman Hector. And I am no lady. You made the real lady walk the plank a few hours ago."
"Tch! That whiney slip of a thing. I'm glad to be shot of her." Barbossa waved her off. "Jack can 'ave her. She's more his type than mine."
"I suppose." Peggy smirked "You always liked darker-haired women with more meat around the rump."
"Speaking of meat, that dress is a snug fit on ye, lass."
"Yes, I suppose it is." Peggy agreed, bristling where she stood. Gods she hated how exposed she felt in the cold night air.
"Shame." Barbossa's gaze hardened slightly as it travelled up and down her back. "Though I suppose if it doesn't fit I could help ye take it off-"
"Sorry, but no thank you. Unless of course, you'd like to wear it for yourself. A fair word of warning though, lacing up corsetry can be quite difficult for a beginner. Especially for a man not used to crossdressing like yourself."
"Hmph!" Barbossa shook his head in exasperation, but Peggy could tell it was more out of habit than anger.
"For what it's worth Lass, 'twas nothing personal when I threw ye overboard the last time."
"Nothing personal?" Peggy narrowed her eyes as Barbossa shrugged.
"Aye. It was strictly professional. Ye were, an' always have been loyal to Jack. Anyone could see that from a mile off. I couldn't let ye stay and stir up trouble against me. What would be the point in seizin' the power for meself if I was just going to lose it to a little chit like ye."
"I guess," Peggy muttered folding her arms. It did make sense now that she thought about it coldly and logically. Barbossa was a practical man, he did not like leaving any loose ends. Why let Jack's protégé stay and nurture her resentment? "I suppose I should thank you then. If it hadn't been for you, I would be cursed too."
"Ye sound like Jack." Barbossa scoffed bitterly "Bastard said the same thing. Then again, he always did like keepin' ye close by his hip so it's no wonder yer took after him. Yer should have seen him when I gave the order to toss ye." He chuckled as Peggy looked back at him, stricken. "Never saw a man beg like he did that night."
Peggy turned away, sucking in a shuddering breath as she desperately tried to scrub the tears threatening to fall.
It was strange, how despite his leching they just fell back to comfortably snarking at one another…then the moment was gone. All gone.
Just like with Jack, Peggy thought glumly, her mind drifting towards her old captain. She had just gotten used to being around him again and now he was stranded and left to die again…all because she wanted to get petty and even for something that did not happen…all because she wanted to lash out when he had fought so hard on her behalf.
Why couldn't things go back to the way they were? the childish little ten-year-old inside her whinged. Why Hector? Why did you have to ruin a good thing? We were a good team, you, Jack and I. But it was not enough for you was it? Is your greed so much more valuable than our friendship? Or did you even care at all? Was it all just an act? Who am I kidding? You're a pirate, there could never be any trust between us. I was foolish, young and naïve to think there was anything good in you to begin with.
"Hector," Peggy gulped down the lump in her throat before it could consume her. "Why did you really call me up here?"
"The Turner whelp wanted to see ye," Barbossa muttered jerking his head just ahead of them. "So I'm lettin' him see ye."
Peggy gingerly stepped towards the railing of the poop deck to look down at the hutch that led to below deck as it opened with a clang.
Loud jeers and shouts of mocking laughter echoed over the crashing of the waves as two men emerged from the hutch, their forms transforming before her very eyes from flesh to bone. In their hands, they dragged a third man still human under the moonlight, between them, his dark curls loose about his shoulders and face pale with panic at the sight of his captors in all their macabre glory.
"Will." Peggy breathed lurching for the stairs, only to feel a cold bony hand grab her tight around the arm.
"Uh-uh-huh! Not so fast lass." Barbossa tutted, one hand still on the wheel while he tugged her into his side. "I ain't finished talking with you yet."
Peggy watched helplessly as Will was dragged over to the mizzenmast and slammed bodily against it, many ropes tying him in place so that he could see the helm. His eyes widened in shock and worry as he saw Peggy being held tight to the side of the cursed captain. However, he was unable to call out as a cloth gag was tied around his mouth tight.
"It's alright Will. I'm fine. I'm fine." Peggy mouthed silently at the young blacksmith, hoping he would not fight back. From where she was standing she could see a nasty dark bruise on his cheek from where he had been hit earlier. God knows how many other injuries he had sustained while she had been unconscious.
To her great relief, Will stayed silent and unmoving, though he kept his eyes fixed on her as Barbossa steered her back to the helm's wheel, wrapping a firm hand around her waist.
Peggy shivered as she felt the pirate's disgusting breath on her neck but forced herself to snap sarcastically.
"Seriously Hector, you and Jack need to work on your dental hygiene. Your breath is rancid. No woman is going to want to kiss that even if you pay them."
"I'm afraid I cannot help it, lass." Barbossa chuckled, fingers flexing around the dip in her waistline, feeling her curves through the dress. "What with me being cursed an' all. Twice," he added with an angry sniff.
"You really can't feel anything?" Peggy wondered aloud, horribly aware of the hand on her waist as it slid slowly up her back to stroke through her copper curls.
"No…" he whispered into her ear, voice a mix of desperate longing, venomous wrath and lustful desire "Gone are the days I could enjoy the warmth of a woman's flesh, the taste of her skin or the smell of her hair." His bony fingers tugged on the black ribbon that held her hair back from her face, unleashing her curls to the wind. "Even now as I stand here with you beside me all I can feel is yer solidity, but I cannae deride any pleasure or pain from it. I can touch but not feel anythin'. Like a mirage, I can only see but never have. It's maddening. All because of yer curse."
"I…" Peggy shut her eyes and turned her face away. "I did not mean for this to happen Hector. Truly I did not!" She snapped as she heard him scoff. "I was scared when I said what I said all those years ago. I was angry and betrayed. I did not know how it all manifested into whatever this is that has come over all of you. If it truly was my words that laid this curse over you then I do not know how it happened or how to fix it-Ah!"
She yelped as Barbossa's skeletal hand tightened into a vice on the back of her scalp, painfully pulling at the roots of her curls as her face was forced to face his own rotting one.
"Of course, ye must." He hissed and Peggy stared aghast as the vivid blue and yellowing eyeballs in their sockets swivelled over her face. "Ye are a child of the ocean. The magic of the deep runs through yer veins as surely as the sun sets in the west. The mermaids and sirens might have the power of song but ye selkie folk have the power of words, this much every sailor worth his salt knows."
"That's the first I've heard about it!" Peggy winced, tears pricking her eyes as she saw Will's form below struggle against his bonds in her direction. "Hector, please. I did not know."
"That can't be possible. Yer mother must have taught ye something of the old ways."
"No, she did not!"
"Then pray to tell how did ye come by this!" he slammed something hard and rectangular into her stomach so hard it almost winded her.
Peggy looked down into her hands in time to catch a book with a blue leather cover. Tales of the Deep by Percival Stafford.
"This?" Peggy blinked in astonishment "I found it years ago in Port Royal."
"Oh, ye found it." Barbossa spat mockingly. "A likely story."
"But I did." Peggy stared bewildered at the pirate. "Seriously it was just there lying on the ground at the docks so I picked it up." She frowned at him curiously. "Why is it so important to you? Who is Percival Stafford?"
"Who is Percival Stafford?" Barbossa rolled his eyes. "Ye don't know who he is?"
"No…I don't."
"Oh come now, Percival 'Silverbeard' Stafford, the great sage of the First Brethren Court. Oh sure Morgan and Bartholemew put down the Pirate Code in the days of the Second Court but it was old Silverbeard who paved the way for them with his knowledge of the sea." Barbossa growled into Peggy's ear as she opened the book to the title page. "Of all the people who would have known about old Silverbeard I'd have thought it'd be ye, for it was he who negotiated the truce between Selkie kind an' humans."
"I swear my mother never told me about old Silverbeard." Peggy gasped as the fingers in her hair tightened painfully once more.
"Yer lying to me again lass-"
"I'm not lying! She never taught me anything."
"And why not?!"
"Because of my father!" Peggy yanked herself from the Pirate's grip, crying out as his hand accidentally got caught in a tangle and he yanked out a few strands from her head. She gasped as she rubbed the scratch he had left on the back of her head, tears now streaming down her face as she looked Barbossa in the face once more.
Down below on the deck, there was near silence as half the crew had stopped to watch the exchange with interest.
"Hold yer tongue boy!" a voice hissed, hitting Will in the stomach to stop his muffled shouting behind his gag.
Barbossa meanwhile was staring at Peggy's face. It was difficult to tell what he was thinking without any cheeks or flesh on his brow, but his eyes seemed shocked.
"Yer father?" He murmured, voice almost lost to the wind and waves.
"Aye, my father…" Peggy nodded slowly backing up into the railing behind her so that her back was to the crew. "Like you said, he took her pelt and forced a marriage from her. But he also took her prisoner. Locked her up away from the sea…away from me…" Her eyes drifted down to her booted feet as she scrubbed at her eyes. "I was barely allowed to see her and whenever I did she was strange, dangerous even. Her mind turned on her and drove her so mad. In the end, the only way she found peace was when she jumped out that window. I know what you're going to say." She glared at him as he opened his mouth to speak "She should survive a fall into the ocean no matter the height, but there was no ocean. After that, I was on my own. I only found out about what I truly was when I first fell off my father's ship. If my mother ever did tell me anything about selkies or the truce then it was so long ago that I don't remember, or I forgot all about it when I hit my head."
"And that's the honest truth is it?" Barbossa hissed uncertainly and Peggy snarled, fangs bared at him as her body trembled all over.
"That is the ONLY truth. The only one I know…"
Peggy stepped towards Barbossa slowly, her head held high to meet his suspicious gaze, even as she stood before him.
"If selkies really do have the power of words then heed mine very carefully Hector Barbossa." She snarled into his rotten face "Whatever curse you incurred at my hand, you only have yourself to blame. No one asked you to mutiny against Jack Sparrow. No one asked you to steal a ten-year-old girl from the safety of her bed and throw her overboard. No one asked you to take cursed gold from its resting place and anger the old gods. All that was your choice. Yours alone."
She stepped back, hands trembling in fists by her sides as she saw the murderous spark flash in Barbossa's face.
"If there was a way I could undo what I did then I would have done it, Hector. Believe me on that one. Whatever you did to me in the past you were my friend once and it pains me to see you in this sorry state. I don't like watching people suffer the way you have. But what you did…I can't fix it. Only you can fix your own mistakes. But you clearly have no remorse or any regret for what you did and until you do there will be no rest for your weary, miserable soul for as long as you live."
There was a ringing silence across the ship, punctuated only by the whistle of the wind and the crashing of the waves as Barbossa stared at her.
The spark of fury was now a flame gleaming in his eyes, but there was also something else in there, something sad. Was it grief or despair? Peggy could not tell with his face in such a state of disintegration, but it still broke her heart to see it.
Worst still was the grief and anguish she felt in her own heart.
Oh Peggy you are a fool. A small voice sneered in the back of her head. You could have kept your mouth shut. You could have pretended to know how to undo the so-called curse and bartered for Will's survival. Now you have no leverage to keep him or the rest of your friends alive.
"Ye can't fix it ey?" Barbossa hissed, his voice dripping with acid as he stalked forward and snatched Percival 'Silverbeard' Stafford's book out of her hands. "So be it! Men!"
Peggy shut her eyes as she heard the heavy footfalls of two men clambering up the stairs.
"I won't kill ye." Barbossa snapped as he turned his attention back to the helm. "Yer might be the scum that cursed me but I'm not going to have the blood of the last Selkie of the Caribbean on me hands. No, ye will stay my prisoner fer now, until I find a way to end yer curse. But yer precious whelp won't be gettin' no mercy from me tomorrow. Lads, take her to the dining room and lock her in, then bring Mister Turner up here to me. He ought to know more about the little bitch that just signed his death warrant."
"Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me.
We extort, we pilfer, we filch, and sack,
Drink up me hearties, yo ho.
Maraud and embezzle, and even high-jack,
Drink up me hearties, yo ho."
The loud singing echoed over the sandy beach as Jack Sparrow and Elizabeth Swann both danced around the small bonfire they had made over the sand from palm tree branches and broken rum crates.
"Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me.
We kindle and char, inflame and ignite,
Drink up me hearties, yo ho.
We burn up the city, we're really a fright,
Drink up me hearties, yo ho."
The pair had been drinking for a few hours now. At first, it had been slow goings with Elizabeth and Jack exchanging small words between smaller sips until their first bottles had been emptied dry.
Then Jack started plying his companion with another bottle while he began telling her stories about his many adventures. And they were not the exaggerated old wives' tales Gibbs told or the confused disjointed accounts you would often hear at taverns or pubs.
No these were the real stories. The good, the bad and some of the weird ones that sounded so bizarre that they could not possibly be true. Yet Elizabeth could not help but wonder if they were, for once the alcohol got flowing into his system Jack became surprisingly sincere and honest, if a bit more rascally in his probing about her stories and her songs.
He had finally managed to get her to start singing her favourite pirate songs and laughed at the ridiculousness of them. They had been written by men who had no idea what pirates were like save for what they had heard in stories. But they were fun and had nice tunes Jack would give them that. He especially was enjoying the song Elizabeth had just taught him. All about drinking and being complete and being utter scum.
Now this was a good pirate song!
We're rascals, scoundrels, villains, and knaves,
Drink up me hearties, yo ho.
We're devils and black sheep, really bad eggs,
Drink up me hearties, yo ho.
Yo-HO! YO-HO! YO-HO! A pirate's life for me!"
"Oh I love this song!" Jack cried out as he linked arms with Elizabeth and took a short spin "Really bad eggs! Ooh!" he dropped back into the sand below with a soft thump, his entire body teetering on the edge of blacking out as his entire body buzzed from alcohol and dancing.
He was quick to pull down Elizabeth to join him on the sand, her giggles loud and her smile wide and infectious as she accidentally ended up lying down in the sand, her blonde hair all messy about her face.
Okay, maybe he was wrong about Turner, Jack mused as he admired the woman's decolletage from his vantage point. The lad had excellent taste in women. He was just shit at wooing them.
Well, that's his loss. Jack smirked to himself If a man can't keep hold of a woman he treasures then he doesn't deserve to have her. He sure as hell doesn't deserve this heavenly creature beside me, and he sure as hell does not deserve Pegsy.
However, no sooner had the thought of his cabin girl crossed his mind, than he quickly shook himself off. No. He did not want to think about her right now. Thinking of her only made him sad and his stomach did weird things as guilt consumed him.
He'd left her behind again. Just when he'd gotten her back, he had lost her. Just like the Pearl.
The Pearl…
"When I get the Pearl back." He slurred as Elizabeth sat up. "I'm gonna teach this to the whole crew, and we'll sing it all the time!"
"And you will be positively the most fearsome pirates in the Spanish Main!" Elizabeth smiled dramatically, amusement sparkling in her eyes as she giggled in his face, cheeks flushed with colour.
"Not just the Spanish Main love. The entire ocean! No! The entire world!" Jack gestured out to the dark waters beyond the beach. "Wherever we want to go we go. That's what a ship is you know. It's not just a keel and a hull and a deck and sails. That's what a ship needs. But what a ship is…" His voice lowered as he remembered the Black Pearl sailing over sunset-lit waters or through the churning storms. "What the Black Pearl really is…Is freedom."
"Oh Jack," Elizabeth sighed as she leaned into his shoulder, surprising him. "It must be really terrible for you to be trapped on this island."
"Oh yes…" Jack gulped. Wow, this was coming along much quicker than he had anticipated. Then again noble ladies usually did fall harder and faster for him than the regular wenches. They lived such repressed lives that any chance for freedom made them ferrety for something new and exciting.
"But the company is…infinitely better than the last time." He assured her solemnly as he carefully tested the waters and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "And the scenery has definitely improved-"
"Mister Sparrow!" Elizabeth interrupted him, pulling out of his half embrace and holding up her bottle of rum. "I'm not entirely sure I've had enough rum to allow that kind of talk." She wiggled her bottle in the air and Jack nodded approvingly.
Ahh…so she wanted a little more drink in her before she allowed him more access to her body. That he could manage. Far be it from him to ignore a fine lady's request.
"I know exactly what you mean love." He carefully neatened his goatee as she raised her bottle in a toast.
"To freedom!" She declared boldly and Jack grinned.
"To the Black Pearl!" he clinked his bottle against hers and tossed it back at once.
So consumed was he with downing his drink that he did not notice the darkening behind his eyes or the grogginess in his body until his head had hit the ground.
Nor did he notice his companion's sweet smile fall from her face as she looked down on him in disdain, her bottle undrunk and still in her hand, her brown eyes cold.
"Tch! Men." Elizabeth Swann shook her head to herself as she shoved the now unconscious Jack Sparrow's arm from her body and stood to her feet.
Finally, he was asleep.
Finally, she could get started on her plan.
Time to get off this bloody island. She cursed to herself as with all her might, she threw her bottle of rum right into the fire and watched it burn.
Good riddance.
Will Turner felt numb as he was led to the door of the Black Pearl's formal dining room.
He was going to die tomorrow.
His blood was going to be spilled over that stone casket full of golden treasure to repay the final piece of the debt his father owed.
Will had always told himself he would be prepared to face death when it came, but now it was around the corner he could not help but feel scared, but not for himself.
It was for the woman on the other side of that dining room door.
If Peggy had not come with him on this voyage, if she had not been here prisoner on this ship with him, Will would not have fretted so much. Indeed, he would have gladly accepted his fate with grace and dignity. He had not lied when he had told Jack he would die to save Elizabeth. But the thought of dying and leaving Peggy behind at the mercy of that fiend Barbossa, all alone and scared with no one to help her…
Will shivered as he remembered the way those filthy corpse-like hands had touched her in front of him.
Barbossa had been "kind" in allowing him and Peggy a couple of hours to share one last meal. One last little tete-a-tete for the two lovebirds he had said. More like one last twist of the knife.
Will had not bothered to correct the older pirate's lewd assumptions. If it got him the chance to see Peggy one more time before dying he would take it and run with it for as long as he could. Who knows, they might even be able to figure out a plan of escape while locked away together.
Will winced as he was shoved into the private dining room, the men behind him not-so-accidentally pressing on the many bruises he had acquired earlier that day.
For all their lack of finesse with a sword, these men truly were brutal with their fists he would give them that.
"You have till dinner is done. Then it's back to the brig for you for the rest of the voyage. Captain's orders." a voice grunted before slamming the door shut behind him.
There was a click as the key on the other side was locked, but Will was not paying attention.
His eyes were focused on the room he had just entered.
It was made from the same dark charred-coloured wood as the rest of the ship. The doorway Will had just entered was decorated with carvings of two naked ocean nymphs that stood like silent sentinels watching over all who crossed the threshold. There was an old ornate rug on the floor, its deep red threads worn away by age and many boots trampling over its surface.
There were two windows on either side of the dining room letting in the moonlight from outside and allowing him a brief glimpse of the stairs that led up to the helm. Below them, Will guessed, was the captains' private quarters for he could hear someone walking below with a rolling gate.
That must have been Barbossa, now tired after toying with his food.
And speaking of food.
Will's eyes turned to the dining table. It was laden with a few platters of food including roast duck and sweet treats, and goblets meant for wine.
Only there was no wine bottle in sight…and no head of red hair.
"Peg?"
"Over here." a woman's hoarse voice croaked from a far-off corner of the room, hidden in the shadows.
Will frowned as he stepped around the dining table and saw Peggy sitting on the floor, her curls a mess around her tear-stained face, her back resting against a cabinet and a large bottle of rum raised to her lips.
"If you want to drink you'll have to get your own bottle," she muttered darkly, head leaning back into the wood behind her with a small thunk.
"Peggy are you alright?" Will knelt beside her, fingers grazing against her flushed cheeks and glazed eyes.
"Me? I'm fine." She mumbled sarcastically raising the bottle to her lips once more. "Thought I'd give drowning my sorrows a go with this disgusting bottle of crap. I've botched everything else up on this voyage." She took a swig and Will was alarmed to see she had already drained half the bottle "I betrayed one of the few men who has been in my corner the entire time. My freedom is well and truly blown to bits. One of my best friends just walked the plank, I condemned one whole crew to death and I just found out that I've laid a curse upon a group of people I once considered friends. Oh and let's not forget the crowning jewel that was me screwing up any chances of Barbossa sparing your life tomorrow. That's a spectacular failure even by my standards."
"It was not your fault." Will grabbed the rum and pulled it from her grip. "You haven't failed anyone Peg—least of all me. Even if he didn't need to kill me to lift the curse, he'd probably still find some excuse to do me in. I don't think he likes me very much." He added with a small snort, his weak attempt at humour earning himself a grimace from his friend.
"Sit with me, William," Peggy mumbled patting a patch of floor beside her and Will sighed.
"Only if you stop drinking and eat something with me. If I'm going to have my last meal I'm going to make it count."
Peggy nodded slowly as Will strode back to the table and loaded a pair of plates for them both.
After that he sat beside her on the ground, doing everything he could to stay close to her as they ate. They did not bother with cutlery. Most of the food cooked could be eaten with hands and they were too starved to care for table manners. Even after they finished eating, Will kept an arm around Peggy's shoulders, his fingers drifting into her soft hair absentmindedly as he reached for the half-empty rum bottle and took a swig from it himself.
Like Peggy, he had very little love for the beverage, especially after watching Mister Brown drink himself into a filthy mess over the past few years. However, after everything that had happened today, losing the Interceptor, losing Elizabeth, losing Jack and the imminent loss of his best friend's freedom and his life, Will felt like he needed a stiff drink.
"What happened to your hand?" He muttered as he watched her pluck a last piece of duck into her mouth with her wrapped-up hand.
"Strained it when I was transforming." She mumbled, cheeks flushing as he frowned down at her in confusion. "Well, regrowing an opposable thumb from a flipper does hurt a lot."
Will winced as he remembered the awful way her body had contorted itself during her transformation.
"Is there no way for you to transform without the discomfort?" He grimaced in disgust as he took another large swig of rum to douse the gruesome memory, leaning sideways so that his cheek rested atop her curls.
"Not without my pelt," Peggy sighed, leaning into his side. "And that's tucked away safe and sound far-far away from here so no point in trying to search for it."
"So, it's true then…the stories…" Will felt his heart sink. "What your father did to your mother…If she could transform without her pelt, could she not have run away without it?"
"I think she tried to," Peggy murmured sadly as she pulled the rum bottle out of his hand and took a small sip. "But my father, he was thorough in his imprisonment of us," She turned her face into Will's neck, nuzzling just under his jaw. "Hmm…you've got stubble." She mumbled distractedly as she rubbed her cheek against the rough surface of his skin.
Will leaned into her touch. Peggy did not drink often, however, the few times she did overindulge in liquor she almost always got extra affectionate and cuddly towards him. Now he could not help but wonder if it was a side effect of her selkie heritage.
He remembered her seal form, how she had slid against him so affectionately in the water to reassure him, and how she had let him stroke her fur with such trust.
To think anyone would want to kill or imprison such a creature seemed downright evil.
"What did Barbossa mean when he said about the truce between Selkies and Humans? I thought Jack and Gibbs said the Selkies were wiped out by the EITC?" He asked softly and he felt her sharp intake of breath flutter against his neck.
"There was a truce years and years ago." Peggy felt herself melt into Will's shoulder, enjoying his warmth "don't know how it happened. But from what I've gathered old Percival Stafford helped broker a peace deal between selkies and humans. Then a couple of years before I was born, the Company started hunting down Selkies here in the Caribbean. No idea why. Some say the Company broke the truce by accident because they killed selkies believing they were regular seals and then had to kill the rest of them to get rid of the evidence. Some say the Selkies heard the cries of slaves within the ships and tried to free them, angering the Company. Either way, selkies in the Caribbean were purged to extinction, all save for my mother. I don't know how my father managed to nab her but he did it somehow…two years later I was born, and six and a half years after that, she died. As far as I know, I'm the only selkie left in these waters."
"And what of other waters?" Will asked, stretching out his legs as he took back the rum and took a sip. "Jack mentioned Selkies in Scottland."
"Dunno." Peggy shrugged. "I know there are still other selkie clans somewhere outside the Caribbean, though I have no idea if they would ever accept me as one of them. Not after living amongst humans for so long."
There was silence as Will pulled on Peggy to sit between his legs, her back resting against his front as his chin rested on her shoulder.
He knew it was improper of him to be so clingy, but he had been so worried about her while trapped down in the brig. Watching that bosun knock her out and drag her into the Captain's quarters had filled him with such fear that he had never known before.
Just thinking about what Barbossa or any of these mangy curs might have done to her while she was unconscious and helpless made his skin crawl.
He remembered the hunger in the crew's eyes when they had stared at her naked body. He remembered the way they had pawed at her while they dragged her away. Worst still, he dreaded the coming of the next dawn when they would be separated once more, especially now she had alcohol in her system.
He did not even bat an eye as she turned in his arms to curl up against him on her side, her ear resting against his heart while her fingers gripped his shirt.
To think he was squirming away from such affection that very morning. His discomfort seemed so silly now, especially after what he had seen of Barbossa and his crew.
"I can touch but not feel anythin'. Like a mirage, I can only see but never have."
Will could not imagine living such a hollow life so devoid of warmth. It seemed unbearable…a living breathing nightmare...
Will had spent most of his life by the fires of a forge, eating home-cooked meals made with care and being managed by tender hands.
Of course, he still loved Elizabeth and wanted nothing more than to be by her side, but that did not mean that Will was not thankful every day for the home Peggy had helped make with him. Without her bossing him around and fussing about the state of their lodgings Mister Brown's residence and shop would be so barren…so cold.
Will's ears pricked as he felt Peggy hum softly against his chest, the melody sweet and slow.
"My heart is pierced by Cupid
I disdain all glittering gold
There is nothing can console me
But my jolly sailor bold"
A rush of deep affection welled within him. All those mornings he woke up to her singing to herself when she thought no one could hear her.
It was better than waking up to the sound of the cockerel or the church bells, though she was always embarrassed when he or anyone else heard her. He never knew why; she had a nice voice. It was not hauntingly beautiful like how he imagined a siren or a mermaid to be, and she would never sing an opera on the stage or perform in a church choir, but it was a pleasant voice all the same.
"His hair it hangs in ringlets
His eyes as black as coal
My happiness attend him
Wherever he may go"
He looped his arm around her while the other raised the rum bottle to his lips one final time, draining the drink in a couple of hard gulps.
"From Tower Hill to Blackwall
I'll wander, weep and moan
All for my jolly sailor
Until he sails home"
She always did like Jolly Sailor Bold, Will mused setting the bottle aside and wiping his mouth.
He wondered if she thought of anyone while singing it. If so who was the lucky man? He knew it wouldn't be Jack. She cared about the pirate it was true, but not in that way. Then who would it be?
"Whoever he is, he'd be lucky to have you." He murmured aloud, surprising even himself.
"What?" Peggy peeked up at him and he sighed.
"The person you think about when you sing. Whoever they are, they're lucky to have you thinking of them."
"Well, that's very sugary sweet of you." Peggy deadpanned up at him as she shifted against his body into a more comfortable position. "But I don't think of anyone when I sing this song."
"Really?" Will quirked a brow disbelievingly "Because your eyes get all dreamy and soft whenever you do."
"That's because…" Peggy blushed a deep rosy pink. "Well, when I sing this song I don't see a person's face in my mind you see. I just…I guess I imagine what could be…if there were a man who thought of me…in that way."
"From what I've seen on our journey so far there are plenty of men think of you in that way." Will snorted earning himself a light smack on his chest.
"I meant a man I was attracted to. Unfortunately for me, there are very slim pickings amongst pirates." She pulled a face.
"Speaking of men, I do not know how you stomached letting Barbossa touch you like that." He muttered; nose buried in her curls. "Filthy dog. If it weren't for that curse I'd have killed him then and there."
"That makes two of us," Peggy murmured as she felt Will's hand touch her cheek. "Your hands…"
"Sorry. I know they're rough." Will was about to pull away, but Peggy stopped him, holding his hand gently in hers.
"Maybe, but I like them."
"You do?" Will gulped, his stomach fluttering strangely at the sincerity in her voice.
"Yes, you're a blacksmith, and now a sailor. All these callouses and scuffs, each one has a story. Each one is a mark of how hard you've worked and how far you've come. It's part of who you are. And despite all the struggles you've gone through, you've always been gentle with them. Not many people hold onto that. But you have." She leaned into his palm, her lips accidentally brushing his skin.
Now it was Will's turn to blush as he met her grey-blue eyes. There was so much tenderness in them he had never seen before. Such fondness. Her small shy smile made his heart thud like a hammer on an anvil as he drew closer to her, pulled to her warm breath like a moth to a flame.
And she was such an enticing flame…
"Sorry." Peggy coughed, her head suddenly plonking itself onto his shoulder again "I guess the rum's got me a bit squiffy."
"You always were a lightweight." Will sighed as he leaned back into the cabinet behind them, looking up at the ceiling. Why was it so disappointing that she pulled away?
It's just the rum. He chided himself. That's it. That's all this was. He was cold, had been beaten sore and was probably going to die tomorrow. All he wanted was comfort from anywhere he could get it, and he had found it at the bottom of a rum bottle and in the embrace of a woman just like any other rotten pirate on this ship.
After all, they were just friends and Peggy was drunk and vulnerable. She trusted him with her safety, and he would never betray that trust even if it killed him.
But the smell of her hair, and the softness of her lips against his skin…NO! He shook his head out slightly to clear it.
No…he shouldn't think like that. He couldn't treat her like that, not after what Barbossa had put her through tonight. The last thing she probably wanted was another man soaked in rum leching and pawing at her like a beast.
God this drink is a menace.
"What are we going to do?" Peggy's mumble brought him out of his confused thoughts.
"I don't know." Will leaned his cheek against the top of her head. "There is not much we can do until we reach Isla de Muerta. Not unless we can get some swords or a gun from somewhere."
"Guns and swords won't work against this lot." Peggy groaned as she pushed herself off Will's shoulder to sit up straight. "Not while they're still cursed. We could try and escape into the caves if we distract them, but we stand a chance of getting lost in there and dying of starvation."
"Not unless you left me behind and swam back to the Black Pearl on your own. Then you could free Gibbs and the others from the brig and set sail." Will grunted only to get glared at.
"That is not happening-"
"It's the only way, Peg." He cut across her. "If Barbossa kills me and spills my blood over the casket he removes his curse. Once the curse is gone he can be killed or at the very least stranded and left for dead-"
"No! I won't!"
"You should-"
"No! I won't do it!"
"You may not have a choice." He whispered, cupping the back of her neck as he leaned in to press his forehead against hers, his heart almost breaking in two as he watched her eyes water.
"We can try and escape to the caves." She growled, sucking in a sharp breath as she tried her best to compose herself. "If we can get to one of the smaller rowboats I can tow us out in my seal form. It's stronger than it looks. And if you row we might be able to move a lot faster. It's risky, and we may not have a chance-"
"Better than nothing." Will assured her. "But if you can't save me and there's an opportunity to escape then you should take it."
"Will-"
"Pegs, you once promised me you would be careful-"
"And you promised me that you would not pick fights with pirates, and now look where we are." She cupped his jaws in both her hands and brushed a stray dark curl from his eyes "I'm not leaving you behind! Pirate or not."
"And people accuse me of being stubborn," Will smirked in fond exasperation.
"You are stubborn." Peggy rolled her eyes. "You're the most stubborn, reckless and noble idiot I have ever known."
"Idiot?" Will scoffed.
"Yes. My idiot." She kissed the bridge of his nose.
"Your idiot? I thought I was your whelp?"
"You're that too," she grumbled, lips still pressed against his brow as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "If Hector thinks he can take you away from me then my curse will be the least of his worries. By the time I'm through with beating the snot out of him, he'll wish he'd never been born."
Will chuckled weakly, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into a tight embrace as they felt the thudding of footsteps above their feet and heard a loud shout.
"Alright, you lot dinner's over! Get back to work!"
"You've got to go," Peggy whispered into his ear, but Will's grip on her only tightened even as they heard several feet approach the door of the dining room
"I know," he mumbled. If this was to be the last time they had with one another he would not waste even a second of it. "If you see the opportunity to run. Take it."
"Only if you're coming with me, William Turner." Peggy pulled back and to Will's great surprise pressed her lips against his. It was only an innocent peck. Barely anything more than a short press of mouths but his world seemed to burn like a second sun had been ignited within him.
It must have been the rum. He thought as they pressed their foreheads together once more and nuzzled their noses against the other's.
Rum and fear. That's all it was.
And yet his heart threatened to burst from his chest with grief as the door to the dining room slammed open and a rough voice yelled:
"OY WHELP! Time to go!"
"Goodbye Peggy" he whispered.
He did not bother struggling as two rough burly men grabbed him by the arms and dragged him back to the dining room door, slamming it shut behind them.
Behind the door, tears streamed down Peggy's cheeks as she shut her eyes and lowered her face in silent prayer.
Oh Gods of the seas and tides…please…I beg of you, as a child of the Ocean, please help us get home safe and sound.
She did not know whether any of the old gods would hear her, but it was all she had left.
Meanwhile, many miles away, a bonfire on an island beach fuelled by wood and rum, burned hot and bright as a spire of dark smoke rising high into the sky towards the moon.
Notes:
And there we have it Chapter 10.
A little more about Peggy and the Selkies. Had to play a little fast and loose with the myths to make it fit my general direction. So in this fic Peggy is only the last selkie in the Caribbean Sea but there are still many selkies out there in the wider world.
So yeah, I really enjoyed writing about Jack and Elizabeth (poor Jack does not have any clue what's going to hit him when all the rum is gone). I also added in a few lines from the deleted scenes to flesh out the scenes between them a bit more. They have such an interesting dynamic
I also enjoyed writing Barbossa. He is a villain in the Curse of the Black Pearl but there is something pitiful about being stuck in undead limbo for as long as he was. He's so desperate to get back to being human that he does not care who he hurts along the way.
Will might be acting a little OOC but when you think about it the guy's just been told he's going to die in a day, the person he loves has been left for dead and the remaining people he cares about are going to be left in a terrible situation without him, who wouldn't be freaking out?
As always if enjoyed this chapter please keep reading, faving and following for more, and please write a review if there is anything else you'd be interested in seeing moving forward or have some interesting feedback you'd like to share. I'm always open to constructive criticism.
See you the next time around.
Cheers
FuzzyBeta
Chapter 11: A Gentleman's Agreement
Summary:
“No! What are you doing? You’re burning all the food! The shade! THE RUM!”
“Yes the rum is gone!”
“But why is the rum gone!”
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Jack Sparrow could not believe it! The little, plotting, scheming, double-crossing, pouty-lipped little witch! How could she?! HOW COULD SHE?!
Jack should have seen it coming! He should have. It had seemed only too good to be true that bloody stupid Will Turner's lady love would fall head over heels for his charms after one night.
Granted, Jack could respect a woman using her feminine wiles to seduce and manipulate him. Women with intelligence always kept him on his toes.
But to burn the rum?!
THE RUM?!
WHY, OF ALL IN GOD'S BLESSED CREATION MUST SHE DESTROY THE RUM?
The one good thing in his life. One of the only things that made life worth living…and she just went ahead and burned it all to bits. And to top it off she called it a vile drink?! The woman had no taste for the good things in life.
All in the name of survival?! What was the point in survival if you didn't enjoy a good drink of rum at the end of it all?!
A loud explosion sounded behind him, and Jack turned his head to snarl as a cloud of fire and dark smog billowed up to join the massive smoke signal. Meanwhile, a woman in white picked up another crate of bottles.
The signal was massive now, the fire had grown big enough to set alight some of the palm trees and the grass. It would not be long till all the valuable shade and greenery would be burnt to a crisp, especially on a hot windy day like this.
"Must've been terrible for you Jack! Oh yes, it must have been terrible – WELL IT BLOODY IS NOW!" He shouted as he stormed up the beach and away from the object of his fury.
Gods never had he been more tempted to use that one shot he had left in his pistol. Not even Barbossa would do anything this vile.
He stopped in his tracks as he caught sight of something on the horizon.
A ship. A ship was sailing towards them…a ship with white sails.
"There will be no living with her after this." Jack sighed.
Commodore James Norrington stared at the horizon line from the bow of the Dauntless. There against the bright blue of the sky and the ocean was a long column of dark smoke.
It had been nearly six days and nights it had been since Elizabeth Swan had been kidnapped from Port Royal by pirates. Five nights since that fool William Turner and his accomplice Peggy Blake had freed Jack Sparrow from his prison cell, commandeered the Interceptor and left the Dauntless stranded. Four days since the Dauntless had been able to repair the damage to the rudder chain and set forth on its mission.
And now there was a fire signal from a deserted island.
As an officer of his Royal Majesties Navy, he knew he had a responsibility to help those in need when such an occasion arose, but he could not help but feel his frustration grow.
It was bad enough that Jack Sparrow, Peggy Blake and Will Turner had botched his rescue attempt and a nasty storm, however, with every passing day they sailed, the hopes of finding Elizabeth dwindled.
Dear sweet Elizabeth…well perhaps not quite so sweet, Norrington smiled fondly as he watched the men set up the rowboat for him and his men to take ashore.
He had known the Governor's daughter for long enough to know she had a sharp, cunning streak in her that reared its head when pushed. Most men, like Norrington's father, said such a trait was undesirable in a woman, but Norrington himself found it endearing and admirable. After all, some situations called for the ability to make tough decisions that seemed harsh, but ultimately they would bring about the greater good.
He just hoped such strength would be enough to see the young lady through. If only for her poor father's sake.
Norrington's eyes drifted to Governor Weatherby Swann who had just arrived on deck. The usually steady and calm, the kind nobleman had been nothing but frantic since his daughter's kidnapping, his eyes bearing dark circles and his face weathered by mounting nerves, though he did his best to keep a stiff upper lip.
Poor man. Norrington thought sympathetically as he strode up to his friend.
"Are you sure you do not wish to come ashore, Governor?" He asked quietly, softening his usually stern tones gently. "Even if we find nothing, a little step onto solid ground might do you some good."
"I am sure Commodore, but thank you all the same." Governor Swann smiled wanly, gazing over to the island in the distance. "You…you do not think she may be on that island?"
"I do not know." Norrington admitted, "But I dearly hope so."
"So do I. You are a good man James." Governor Swann nodded "My dear Elizabeth could not ask for a better husband should she accept your proposal."
Norrington felt his chest swell with pride and warmth but kept his composure. Such compliments from the Governor were not to be taken lightly, especially when it concerned the happiness of his only daughter.
"Commodore! The long boat is ready!" Officer Groves called from the lower deck.
"Excuse me, Governor. Duty calls."
"What on Earth are ye doin' lass?"
Peggy looked up from her spot on the floor.
She was in the captain's quarters of the Black Pearl, maps and pieces of paper and books all strewn around her, some in neat stacks and some in small, unsorted piles as she sat cross-legged on the floor.
Above her, Barbossa loomed, now completely human under the dim light of day. However, Peggy could not shake the memory of his undead skull-like face from her mind even as she forced herself to glower at him and his pet monkey Jack who was perched on his shoulders.
Gods she hated that primate. She usually loved animals, but she hated that monkey.
"Sorting out the mess." She sniffed nodding at the piles. "I needed something to do while I'm locked up in here."
It was silly she knew, but cleaning up was one of the few things that calmed her down when she was stressed. It was dull, repetitive, and so time-consuming that she did not have time to think about her awful circumstances. She certainly did not want to think about the light pounding in her skull, courtesy of the alcohol she had drunk last night, coupled with the fear of losing the man she loved.
"How long till we reach Isla de Muerta?" Peggy coughed as she rolled up a map into a tight scroll.
"A few hours. We'll be there just after sunset." Barbossa clipped, watching her cautiously though she ignored his presence at he back. Or at least, pretending to ignore him, he could see the tenseness in her shoulders even as he strode behind her to reach his desk.
What had once been an unusable mess was now clear and neat as a pin. All the stationery was sorted and swiped, and spare papers were tucked away in the appropriate drawers.
"Just like old times." He mused as he sat and propped his booted feet up on the desk.
"I just cleaned that," Peggy grumbled, unable to contain herself.
"Ye can clean it again after I'm done here." Barbossa waved her off dismissively. "Keep ye busy." He added enjoying the way she glared at him through the corner of her eye.
"And what are you doing here?" Peggy snapped as she tapped a small pile of sorted papers to even out the edges.
"I'm the captain aren't I?" Barbossa leaned back in his chair, as Jack the monkey clambered up onto a perch hanging above the desk. "Captain can sit in his quarters whenever he likes. However long he likes. For whatever reason pleases him."
Peggy had no answer to that. He was right, he was the captain and technically she was interfering in his space. The fact he was not stringing her up by her teeth for going through his private documents was downright surprising.
Then again, where was she going to go with this knowledge? None of the things she had read were personal, mostly notes and charts of far-off places and treasures. Many of them were Jack's notes from years ago, kept for their informative value. She had also found a worn copy of the Pirate Codex bound in black leather.
Funny that, the pirate code was rarely ever passed down in book form. Most pirates were illiterate, so the code was usually passed down via word of mouth.
"Ye'll be glad to know, yer whelp has been behavin' himself in the cells." Barbossa snorted as he took off his hat and folded his hands over his lap. "I don't know what ye said to him last night but if ye two have some plan to escape just know it will never work. The lads and I know those caves like the back of our hands, and we can follow ye under the water with our curse."
Peggy felt her lips tremble but stayed silent. He was trying to provoke her, trying to get a rise out of her for his sick amusement.
"God, that Turner lad has ye under his thumb doesn't he?" The old pirate chuckled scornfully. "Ter risk revealin' what yer truly is to save his skin so he can save another woman. Ye hid from me and ol' Jack after all the times we saved yer hide, but for this ungrateful brat you'd give it up so easy."
Peggy gritted her teeth but did not respond, the mark on her wrist tingling as if touched by embers.
"Perhaps it's a good thing I'm killin' him tonight." Barbossa picked up a letter opener and began picking at his grotty nails. "There are plenty o' other fish in the sea."
"You sound like Jack." Peggy snorted and was pleased to see Barbossa sneer at the mention of his old friend's name.
"Well, if a fool like Jack Sparrow can see how stupid and greedy that boy is then it only proves my point doesn't it?" Barbossa bristled. "The lad has a ruddy selkie devoting her bleedin' heart to him and somehow it's still not enough? He's not right in the head."
"If you're trying to butter me up because you think that will help get rid of the curse then I don't think it's working," Peggy grunted as she rolled up another map.
"Worth a shot." Barbossa snorted, shaking his head "My point still stands. A man who does not see a true treasure when it's right in front of him is a great fool indeed."
"Not unless his definition of treasure is different from yours," Peggy muttered. "For example, Jack's greatest treasures are this ship, his rum and his freedom. So long as he has those, he doesn't care much about gold or power…not like you."
"I suppose one could argue that," Barbossa conceded twirling something gold in his hand that caught the light. "Though that still doesn't disprove my point."
"And your point is?" Peggy snapped over her shoulder at him and saw him toiling with the cursed Aztec medallion in his fingers "If you've got something to say, Hector, then say it. Stop pussy-footin' around."
"My point is that yer still young, ye have plenty of life left ahead of ye to find a better man." Barbossa's lip curled "When I kill Turner, and I will, there be no point in grievin' for his soul. Ye might as well cut yer losses now and move on. It'll be easier than you think."
"Why?" Peggy scowled "Why is my grief and pain so important to you all of a sudden?"
"It would be a shame to lose the last selkie in the Caribbean to a broken heart," Barbossa grunted. "They say the ocean grieves the loss of every child born of its waters, and it wreaks its vengeance on those who take them away."
"Ahh…Of course, this is just you covering your rear end because you don't want any more bad luck from the ocean." Peggy chuckled hollowly, shaking her head as she returned to her sorting "You've never loved anything in your life have you, Hector? If you did then you'd know love is never easy. You can't just snuff it out like a candle. It sticks with you and burrows deep into places in yourself in ways you can never even imagine. Then when it's gone you feel how empty it is where it should be full, and it hurts so much. Of all the treasures I have seen, love is by far the greatest and the worst to have or to hold. I only pray that you never experience the pain of giving up someone you love beyond measure."
"Don' worry. That'll never happen." Barbossa scoffed, shaking his head with disdain. "Tch! And here I thought yer had outgrown yer childish fantasies."
"And here I thought you might have grown a heart in the last ten years." Peggy shot back waspishly.
"Ye certainly have not lost that unruly tongue of yers," Barbossa rolled his eyes. "How ye managed not to get hung for yer impudence by them civilised folk is beyond me."
Peggy stayed silent at that. It was true, her sharp tongue and hot head had gotten her into trouble in Port Royal a few times, but then most of those times she often had Will come and bail her out.
And here she had brought him into another mess because she had lost her temper.
It did not help that she remembered the tenderness in Will's eyes from the night before, all fixed on her and no one else as she had always imagined it would be.
But she knew it was not for her. Not really.
It was only the rum.
She might love Will, but she knew that if Elizabeth had been in the room with them she would have been tossed to the side and left to drown her sorrows by herself.
It had always been that way since she had first met him, and it always would be.
The sun beat down hard on the deck of the Dauntless as James Norrington led his men and his two new guests aboard the longboat.
What a twist of fate this is.
Jack Sparrow mused to himself as he was flanked at once by a pair of officers. To his amusement and astonishment, the men who grabbed and secured him were the same two landlubbers he had first met at the docks of Port Royal, Mullroy and Murtog. The irony of the situation was not lost on Jack or the two lummoxes though they all wisely chose to keep their mouths shut and not comment on the matter.
Instead, they all chose to watch as the dear Lady Elizabeth stormed after her very relieved and very anxious father.
The reason for her outrage, her request to save Will and Peggy from their fates aboard the Black Pearl had been very bluntly denied.
Well, would you look at that? Daddy dearest can say no to his spoiled brat after all. Jack smirked as he watched the young noblewoman desperately beg her father for a change of heart.
"But we have to save Will and Peggy!"
"No! You're safe now. We will return to Port Royal immediately not go galivanting after pirates." Governor Weatherby Swann shook his head as he strode over to where Commodore James Norrington was standing with his men watching the scene unfold and waiting patiently for the argument to finish.
"Then we condemn them to death!"
"Mister Turner and Miss Blake's fates are regrettable," Governor Swann admitted, and Jack was surprised to see genuine sympathy and sadness in the nobleman's eyes as he straightened up and maintained a stiff upper lip. "But so was their decision to engage in piracy, especially Miss Blake. Regarding her past, I was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt because of the unfortunate circumstances of her youth, however, I am afraid I cannot overlook her more recent crimes."
"But she only followed Will to rescue me! To prevent anything from happening to me!" Elizabeth persisted doggedly.
"If I may be so bold as to interject my professional opinion," Jack piped up from his spot, calmly and casually strolling past the arguing father and daughter and towards Commodore Norrington who was eying him with a mixture of suspicion and exasperation. "The Pearl was listing near to scuppers after the battle. It's very unlikely she'd be able to make good time. Think about it." He leaned in close in an almost conspiratorial whisper "The Black Pearl. The last real pirate threat in the Caribbean, mate. How can you pass that up?"
"By remembering that I serve others Mister Sparrow, not only myself," Norrington muttered coldly folding his hands behind his back as he began to stalk away.
Well, there goes that plan. Jack sighed to himself only to get jostled as Elizabeth shoved past him in a very unladylike manner to follow the Commodore's footsteps.
"Commodore, I beg you! Please do this! For me…as a wedding gift!"
Wait what? Jack's eyebrows rose as Norrington stopped in his tracks and turned his head to look back at the young noblewoman. For the first time since he had met the uptight Officer Jack could see true heartfelt emotion on his face. He looked hopeful like a man seeing water in a desert after nearly dying of dehydration. It was almost pitiable.
Norrington was not the only one surprised. Governor Swann was looking both astonished and overjoyed by the proclamation.
"Elizabeth? Are you accepting the commodore's proposal?"
"I am," Elizabeth said, and Jack had to admire how she held Norrington's gaze so firmly upon her.
Such a good poker face. Jack snorted. Oh, how he'd hate to face her in a game of cards.
"Oh weddings! I love weddings! Drinks all around!" The pirate cried out hoping his smirk had gone unnoticed. However, this only had the effect of making all those who surround him look at him with deadpan exasperation.
"I know." He coughed holding up his hands meekly "Clap 'im in irons right?"
There was a pause as Norrington looked him up and down before glancing at Elizabeth. When her expression did not waver, he began to step primly down the stairs to the helm hands folded neatly behind his back.
"Mister Sparrow…you will accompany these fine men to the helm and provide us with a bearing to Isla de Muerta. You will then spend the rest of the voyage contemplating all possible meanings of the phrase 'silent as the grave'. Do I make myself clear?"
"Inescapably, sir," Jack smirked forcing himself to relax as he felt the two lummoxes on either side of him grab him under the armpits and begin urging him towards the helm. As he was moved he kept his ears pricked as Governor Swann approached the Commodore, his joy now dulled by nervous apprehension.
"Commodore, I must question the wisdom of this ven-"
"With all due respect Governor," Norrington cut across his friend firmly but gently "Despite their recent crimes, Mister Turner and Miss Blake are still subjects of the British Crown and therefore under my protection."
"Rightly so." Governor Swann nodded with a small respectful smile.
Oh so NOW they're worthy of protection? Jack rolled his eyes as he was dragged up beside the helm wheel, though he did feel somewhat intrigued. So…Commodore Norrington and Will Bloody Turner could be manipulated using Miss Swann as a lever ey? Now this was useful.
If he played his cards right he might get his beloved Pearl back and get the jump off the Navy.
He glanced down at Elizabeth as she was taken aside by her new fiancé to have a small heart-to-heart chat.
Fooling me and now this poor guppy? Miss Swann, you are a dangerous creature.
Will Turner stood in a daze at the back of his cell in the Black Pearl's brig.
He had barely moved from his spot since he had been thrown in the night before. Captain Barbossa had ordered his men to chuck him in his special isolated cell opposite that which held the remaining crew of the Interceptor.
Among them were Gibbs, Annamaria, Marty, Cotton and even Cotton's parrot Paulie along with four other men. All the pirates looked as forlorn as he felt as they took turns standing and sitting in the very little available floor space.
Between the two iron-barred cells, two pirates named Pintel, who was short and had a bald spot on top of his head and Ragetti, who had a yellowing wooden eye, were swabbing the floors with grimy mops, occasionally pausing to chat amongst themselves or leer at their prisoners. Will did not understand why they would bother with such a task. The dreary brig looked like it had never been cleaned in a century.
He sighed as his gaze drifted to the ceiling above. He wondered what was happening with Peggy. From what little Pintel and Ragetti had dropped in their occasional spats, no one had made to hurt her while she was confined to the captain's quarters.
Or at least no one had made to hurt her physically. Will felt his gut clench almost painfully at the thought of his friend being the subject of Barbossa's vindictive vitriol.
Despite her stubborn streak and fierce temper, Peggy was always sensitive to criticism and harsh words. She tried to hide it, but Will could sometimes see how her shoulders hunched as she averted her gaze to the floor, her body flinching instinctively. It was like watching a small child expecting to be scolded with a beating. He hated seeing her in such a state, and he knew it frustrated her just as much.
He had wondered if such a harsh reaction was the result of her first few years on the Black Pearl. But then Will remembered the way she trembled as she spilled the beans about her father's treatment of her and her mother to Barbossa.
It was odd, Will thought. Here was yet another thing she had hidden from him all these years, however, this time he felt no anger or resentment for the omission. He and everyone else on deck had heard the grief in her voice during her rant. To have seen such an awful thing happen to her mother at such a young age, he could not blame her for never wanting to speak of her family.
Will's chest clenched as he remembered the state she had been in when he had walked into that dining room. Her copper hair had been such a mess, and her eyes were red and puffy from crying as she chugged hard at that rum bottle. He had never seen her look so utterly defeated before. Usually, there was a spark of defiance in her steely grey-blue eyes, but not then.
Had she lost all hope while she was up there now?
Will hoped not.
But more than that he wished she were down here with him, if only so he could hold her close once more. She had been so warm and soft in his arms, a balm against the chilling reminder of his impending death.
Will wondered if this was what his father had felt during those years he was at sea. Did he spend long cold nights missing his wife and child? Had he mopped this dismal brig or hauled on sheets during harsh storms while getting soaked to the bone by icy waves, wind and rain?
"Squwaaak! Shiver me timbers." Paulie the parrot squawked loudly, pulling Will out of his wallowing sharply.
"Cotton says you missed a bit," Gibbs smirked only to jerk back as Pintel thrust his grubby mop at the cell bars right before his nose.
"You knew William Turner?" Will asked softly as he leaned against the walls of his cell.
"Ol' Bootstrap Bill?" Pintel paused in his mopping to sneer at the young blacksmith with bitter contempt. "Aye, we knew 'im. Never sat well with Bootstrap, what we did to Jack Sparrow or Pegsy, what with the mutiny and all. He said it wasn't right with the code. That's why he sent off a piece of the treasure to you, as it were. He said we deserved to be cursed…and remain cursed."
Will found his eyes drawn to the floor. His father, his poor father had been cursed to be an undead just like the rest of the crew. Did that mean he was alive? If so then where had he been all these years? Why wasn't he on the Black Pearl?
"Stupid blighter!" Ragetti muttered.
"Good man." Gibbs and the rest of the Interceptor's crew nodded approvingly much to the disapproval of Pintel.
"But as you can imagine, that didn't sit too well with the captain-"
"That didn't sit too well with the captain at all!" his wooden-eyed friend giggled creepily, barely able to maintain his excitement "Tell 'im what Barbossa did-"
"I'm tellin' the story!" Pintel snarled irritably at the interruption, making Ragetti shrink in on himself with a meek little nod.
When Pintel turned back to Will, the pirate's sneer widened maliciously, poised to twist the invisible knife.
"So…what the captain did, he strapped a cannon to Bootstrap's bootstraps."
"Bootstrap's bootstraps." Ragetti giggled under his breath.
"The last we saw of ol' Bill Turner, he was sinking to the crushin' black oblivion of Davy Jones's locker." Then Pintel sighed almost insultingly casually "'Course it was only after that we learned we needed his blood to lift the curse."
"And that's what you call ironic." Ragetti shrugged only to start his inane giggling again, his friend joining in this time. It was awful, like listening to a pair of sniggering hyenas.
Will felt his eyes burn as grief welled up within him. He had always had an inkling that his father had met his end at sea. But to hear of the man's death being remembered so gleefully by such blackguards…
The two pirates stopped giggling as heavy booted feet descended the stairs into the brig. Will was almost glad for the sight of Barbossa flanked by several of his stronger men, if only because he felt he could concentrate his hatred on the man rather than the two snivelling cowards before him.
"Bring 'im!" Barbossa snapped tossing the keys at Pintel and Ragetti, who dutifully unlocked the door of Will's cell with frightened expressions.
Will stepped out, fists clenched as he allowed the burly forms of the Bosun and another strongly built man with a short crop of hair and a tattooed chest to grab him by the arms.
It took everything he had not to struggle against his captors as he was shoved and jostled roughly up onto the deck where he saw Peggy standing by the railing of the deck, flanked by a group of men.
She looked tired, but there was no sign of injury or manhandling. Indeed, it seemed to Will that the men were nervous to lay a hand on her, their grips not quite as tight as they should be for a captive.
Were selkies that revered by sailors? Or were they just afraid of her cursing them once more? Will still did not quite believe that Peggy was capable of such magic. Transforming from seal to human was one thing, but casting curses?
Whatever he believed, Will was relieved such superstitions kept her safe for the moment.
Still, that did not mean there weren't other ways she could get hurt.
Will kept a wary eye on Barbossa as he stalked towards the young woman, holding out something gold on a chain.
Peggy leaned back at the sight of the Aztec Medallion, her lip curling with disgust as she beheld its golden glimmer in the light of a nearby torch.
Will wondered at this. Most people who had held the medallion, himself included, had seemed drawn to its beauty and lustre. But not Peggy.
She recoiled from the trinket even as Barbossa quietly chided her and clipped it around her neck, so it hung over her bosom.
"Now ain't ye a fetching sight," Barbossa smirked as he trailed a grimy hand over her clavicle, the flesh of his fingers melting away to bone and tendons under the light of a moonbeam peeking out from behind a cloud from high above.
Will could not blame Peggy for shuddering as the pirate's face morphed from man to undead within the blink of an eye.
He had only ever seen Barbossa's cursed form from a distance. It was simply horrifying up close like this. That she could stomach being touched by the man in this state was almost impressive.
Will kept quiet as he was pushed into one of the longboats between his two jailors as Peggy and Barbossa made to sit in front of him with their backs towards him.
"Now, now lass. There be none of that." Barbossa hissed as Peggy tried sidling away from him discreetly only to be caught by a bony, rotting hand at her waist.
Will bristled as the Pirate Captain smirked back at him momentarily, his undead digits sliding to the small of Peggy's back. He did not grope or make any inappropriate move, but the threat was clear to Will as if the man had shouted it from the crow's nest.
One wrong move out of line, any escape attempt or move to fight back, and he would go to his death with the knowledge he had doomed someone he cared about.
Why didn't she run? She should jump over the side, transform and swim away. Swim far, far away. Why do you stay by me when you know it will only lead to misery?
Will's teeth clenched his eyes fixed on the coppery curls billowing in the chill night air before him, just within reach of his touch.
His fingers twitched in his lap, his entire body almost aching with the effort of reigning in his desire to thread his fingers through the ringlets until he memorised every strand's texture and scent. The usually warm tanned skin looked pale and ghostly under the combination of moonlight and lantern light.
As his gaze traced the shell of her ear and the slope of her freckled neck and shoulder, his mind wandered back to all those mornings he woke up and watched her fussing over breakfast as the gold morning sun peeked through the tiny window of their small dwellings. She was so good around the kitchen now, but he would never forget the amusing and terrible first attempts she had made when she had just started learning to cook. Even now the memory of the burnt black lumps at the bottom of the pot made the corners of Will's mouth twitch for a split second.
In a couple of hours, I will never see her again. he thought as his hands reached down to his waist where he had tied the blue sash she had been gifted at Tortuga. It hardly suited him, but at least when he died he'd have a piece of her with him.
Will was so focused on Peggy's back, that he did not notice Barbossa watching him closely through the corner of his eye.
God, just when he thought the lad could not get more disgustingly whelpish…ugh, it made the older pirate almost sick to watch. The lad was pining over the selkie before him like a stray puppy.
It did not help that Barbossa remembered how the pair had been all over one another in the dining room. He and his men had taken a small peek through the small windows on the port and starboard sides of the room, and it had almost made him throw up then and there.
I can't wait till we finally slit his throat. Barbossa rolled his eyes as their boat fell under the shadow of the caves.
Yes…once the whelp was dead he would never have to deal with his sickening displays of affection ever again.
"Land ho!"
Elizabeth looked out over the graveyard of ships. They had done it. Against all odds, the Dauntless had caught up to the Black Pearl at the Isla de Muerta.
However, their arrival did little to soothe Elizabeth's nerves.
Somewhere amidst those dark caves William was about to die or was already dead at the hands of pirates.
She bit her lip as she pulled her red coat tight around her. After discovering there were no women's clothes aboard the ship, Norrington had asked for a spare officer's uniform to be found for her to wear, breeches and all.
Despite being foreign and less decent than society dictated entire outfit was surprisingly comfortable once she got used to it. Elizabeth could see why women like Annamaria and Peggy would favour pants aboard a ship. It made moving about much easier and the shirt was not as restrictive as a corset and dress would have been.
For a split second, Elizabeth found herself in the mind of her twelve-year-old self, wondering what it would be like to be a fearsome captain aboard a ship barking orders to a crew under her leadership as she pointed a cutlass towards an enemy ship on the horizon. It was a petty and childish fantasy she knew, but even after all these years somehow such dreams persisted.
Too bad she would never have the freedom to achieve such feats; she mused guiltily glancing back to where Norrington was busy giving orders to his lieutenants Grove and Gilette.
James Norrington was not a bad man. Indeed, had Elizabeth not been so in love with Will she might have jumped at the chance to marry the Commadore. Beneath his haughty exterior, he was honourable, clever and kind. He commanded respect from his men not because of his noble birth but because of his capability and leadership. And when it came to her wishes he was always devoted and respectful and would be a good provider to a family.
But he was not William. She thought glumly. She felt guilty for thinking it, but the fact of the matter was, was that for all his good qualities Norrington was too dutiful, too prim and proper. He was not passionate, spontaneous or as free-thinking as the young blacksmith. He always went by the rules. Even now he only bent his ways a little bit to appease her, and she had had to agree to marry him to make it happen.
He was the opposite of Jack Sparrow, a man who played by no one else's rules but his own. Even now he stood brazenly calm and casual at the railing of the Dauntless, whistling softly to himself as his eyes wandered over all the ruined ships they passed.
You would never think he was concerned about the fates of Will or Peggy. However, Elizabeth remembered the glimmer of fondness in the pirate's eye as he had raised a toast to the young selkie the day before. Even when he spoke her name in conversation with Norrington and the officers he occasionally slipped into using her nickname like it was second nature.
"You didn't tell him about the curse," Elizabeth muttered as she came to stand beside Jack, being sure to keep a short respectful distance from him. Even now she was unsure what he would do after her betrayal with the rum.
"I notice neither did you." Jack smirked smugly at her, "For the same reason I imagine?"
"He wouldn't have risked it." Elizabeth shook her head sadly. And there was the truth of it. What decent man would risk the life of so many men for two pirates when their enemy was cursed?
"You could have gotten 'im drunk." Jack's smirk widened and Elizabeth bristled at the sharp gleam in the pirate's eye "Don't get me wrong love. I admire a person who's willing to do whatever is necessary."
Elizabeth paused as she looked him up and down. It was difficult to tell if he was being sarcastic or sincere. Knowing him it could easily have been both.
The man was an enigma. Sometimes he did the right thing, sometimes he would betray you. His words were often double-edged, she did not know whether to take them literally or if he was being metaphorical. And yet despite all this, he drew people in. People followed him, their eyes drawn to him like a magnet whether it be in admiration or hatred.
He reminded her of the old Faerie tricksters her mother had read to her in her bedtime stories as a small child. Duplicitous to an almost scary degree, but also oddly alluring and beguiling.
She had never met anyone quite like him.
"You're a smart man Jack." She murmured folding her arms "But I don't entirely trust you."
"Peas in a pod darling." He leaned in and whispered conspiratorially.
Elizabeth felt her cheeks flush with heat, though she was not quite sure why.
Part of her felt angry at being compared to a deplorable rake like him. She might be willing to do whatever it took to save Will and Peggy but it was all for a good cause. Not like him, who only acted for his selfish desires.
But deep down, there was that thrill again. The thrill of breaking the rules, of acting like the pirate she used to want to be as a child. The fact that Jack Sparrow, one of the most notorious pirates of the Caribbean thought her his equal almost made her chest puff with a bizarre sense of pride.
I'm being silly. She chided herself as Norrington approached her and the pirate, doing his best to mask his worry and concern for her beneath his professional mask even as he tossed Jack's broken compass to him.
"With me mister Sparrow." Jack nodded meekly, but Elizabeth could see it was fake a badly counterfeited coin. The man was pleased with the outcome. Not only had he found his beloved ship again, but he had also gotten under her skin.
"Bloody pirate." She muttered under her breath.
Peggy stared at the approaching shoreline within the caves of Isla de Muerta, illuminated only by the dim lights of many lanterns that hung from all the longboats.
Here they were again. Twice in two days, back at this accursed place.
Hector's grip on her arm was tight as the rest of the men in the boats that had arrived before them leapt out onto shore to drag their vessel up onto the sand.
"Nearly there lads!" Barbossa called to his crew as he stepped out of the boat "Tie 'em up good and tight and make sure the oars are safe and secure." Barbossa added with a nasty sneer back at Peggy as he roughly tugged her forward.
"Yeesh, easy Hector you don't need to-ack!" She squeaked as she tripped out of the boat, nearly falling out of Barbossa's grip and into the water.
However, she was quickly caught by Will who had pushed off his captors to grab her tight in his arms.
"I'm fine." She whispered as he helped her find her feet on the giving sand.
"If you see an opportunity, run." He murmured into her hair, barely managing to press a small kiss into her temple before she was dragged away by a very exasperated Barbossa.
"Ugh! We'll have none of that now! Disgusting whelp." The older pirate grumbled as he pulled Peggy ahead with him.
Peggy stayed compliant but only because she was too focussed on the sight of the cursed golden chest at the far end of the cavern, illuminated by a ray of cold moonlight through one of the many shafts in the stony roof above.
She knew it was probably fruitless to escape, but maybe she could barter with Barbossa.
As awful as it must be to be an undead, the Curse of Cortez did come with some perks. For example, neither Barbossa nor his crew could be killed by conventional means, nor could they be drowned. Why give up such things permanently?
She was vaguely aware of Will being dragged behind her by Ragetti and Pintel, the latter of whom was saying almost conversationally:
"No reason to fret. Just a prick of the finger, a few drops o' blood-"
"No! No mistakes this time." Twigg intervened grabbing Will harshly by the back of his neck and shoving him forward. "He's only 'alf Turner. We SPILL it all!"
"Thas' right." Twigg's partner Koehler sneered at Peggy whose body swelled with wrath.
Maybe her plan was crazy but right now she'd take anything.
"Hector, a word if I may?" She asked as she watched the pirate captain toss a juicy green apple high.
"Oh so now ye want to talk?" Barbossa rolled his eyes as he caught the fruit in his hand and pocketed it.
"While we were rowing I had an idea-" Peggy snorted as she pulled him to a stop right next to a large pile of gold "Look I admit I don't know how to undo the curse I cast upon you, but maybe I can learn how to undo it from someone else."
Barbossa paused mid-step, interest piqued.
"And how would ye achieve this miracle lass?" he gestured to Twigg and Koehler to push Will towards the Cursed Treasure Chest at the end of the cavern without him. All around them, Peggy noticed the other pirates giving them a wide berth to keep their conversation private.
"I could find another selkie to teach me." Peggy straightened up, doing her best to keep her voice from trembling as he met his gaze head-on. "I might be the last selkie left in the Caribbean but there are others of my kind out there in Scottland or other waters that might be willing to help."
"And what about yer precious whelp hmm?" Barbossa leered down at her, a gnarly hand prodded the spot on the side of her head where Will's lips had touched mere moments before "I suppose one of yer conditions will be to keep 'im alive?"
"Yes." Peggy nodded. "Look, Hector. Look this Curse of Cortez might be a drag if you keep it for a long term, but it does have some perks, doesn't it? I mean…you can't be killed by war, famine or disease. What I'm trying to say is, why give it up permanently? You have the power at your fingertips to be invincible to your enemies whenever you want. Why not keep William alive? Then you can take blood from him to remove the curse any time you want. Also, I think I should point out he is a good blacksmith. Way better than Beauchamp. You could use his skills-"
"Ahhh poor Pegsy. Ye really must be desperate." Barbossa chuckled with derisive fondness, patting her cheek sharply "But ye see, we only need young Turner to rid us o' the curse this one time an' the only reason we need 'im now is that ol' Boostrap was cursed along with us ten years ago. Now once he and his brat are dead, we can take the curse on again and take it off without needing either 'im or his brat's blood. And I gotta say, while it be temptin' to get another blacksmith aboard, the lad is annoying. I'll be glad to be shot of him once and for all."
"So that's just it then?" Peggy felt tears spring to her eyes despite her attempts to stay strong. "You don't even need all his blood do you? You're just going to kill Will for the sheer bloody pleasure of it?"
"Aye, that be right." Barbossa shrugged, scoffing at her hurt expression as he gripped her cheek tight with his grubby nails "Tch! Ye are too soft-hearted for yer own good lass, always 'ave been. I don't know why Jack didn't beat it outta ye all those years ago. Then again, he always was too soft when it came ter ye." He added bitterly as he took a step back and whistled to two of his men.
"You two, hold onto 'er! And follow me."
"Hector you bastard!" she snarled as two grubby hands of men grabbed her roughly from behind and shoved her to follow Barbossa up toward the cursed treasure. Will was already in position, his hands now bound behind his back as Twigg and Koehler held him bent over the stone casket. His gaze was frantic as he watched Peggy be foisted up the pile of gold by two men to stand beside Barbossa who began making his grand speech.
"Here we are again, Gentlemen!" He smirked and the crew of the Black Pearl chortled "Now…now we can safely say that the time has come! Our Salvation truly is nigh!"
A chorus of cheers echoed around the treasure cavern along with the stamping of feet, the sound reverberating through Peggy's skull like a death rattle.
"Our torment is FINALLY near an end!"
Another loud cheer, even harder stamps as Barbossa whipped out the sacrificial stone knife from his belt, the red of Elizabeth's blood offering from the day before still staining the blade crimson under the moonlight.
"We have the medallion!" another loud cheer, the stamping now accompanied by splashing as several men accidentally stepped into the water flooding into the cave from the rising tide.
"We have the blood of Bootstrap Bill at our fingertips." Barbossa pointed at Will with the knife and with a grunt he found himself bent over so far forward that his nose was almost touching the cursed coins within the chest.
"And…we have the witch!" the shouts turned into sneers and jeers in Peggy's direction as Barbossa turned the knifepoint towards Peggy's throat. "Little Peggy thought she could run away from us? Fool! There be no runnin' from the Pearl. Ye were once one of us Lass and so ye will be again until yer can undo yer curse upon us."
There were hisses from the crowd as Barbossa reached forward to unloop the medallion from around her neck before stepping over to Will and looping it around his head.
As he did so, Peggy caught sight of something flickering in the corner of her eye in the distance.
Quickly she glanced around the cave, heart hammering as she caught sight of a familiar dreadlocked shadow growing larger against a distant stony wall. Oh how well she knew that outline…
No…no way…You lucky-lucky scoundrel… her heart raced in her chest. But he was too far away to stop anything…she'd have to stall for time. But how?
Fortunately for her Barbossa chose that exact moment to sneer back at her:
"Any last words for your precious whelp?"
"Just this." She glanced at Will her gaze softening for a fraction of a second as she beheld his fretful face "Sorry William, but I'm going to have to break my promise."
Before Will could even shout at her or Barbossa could even move, she shoved her arms back hard against her two captors, her fists aiming for their stomachs. One of the men, a weak drudge stumbled back and tripped down the pile of coins as her fist missed the mark and got him in between the legs instead. His mate however managed to keep hold of Peggy, though that did little to spare him her ire as her now free arm wrapped around him to grab the hilt of a cutlass holstered in his belt.
With a roar of fury, she pulled the blade from its owner, punching him square in the face as he let her go. Now he too tumbled down the mound of treasure, blood spurting from his nose where her knuckles had made impact. Several men below in the crowd of onlookers shouted in shock while others winced in sympathy.
"Look out Peg!" Will's heart almost flew from his gaping mouth in terror as Barbossa straightened up and drew his sword in a flash of steel.
Peggy met the blade with her own in a well-timed block, her grey-blue eyes flashing silver in the light of the moon streaming in from above as Barbossa aimed a couple of swipes at her. Will could see the nails on her hands had grown clawlike once more in her anger as her pupils narrowed to pinpricks.
He could finally understand why the men of the Black Pearl were so afraid of the children of the ocean. Her seal form might have been sweet and blubbery, but this snarling creature with claws and fangs looked downright ferocious.
The sight almost made him shiver, but he didn't. Even under this eerie beast, he knew his friend was still in there, he could see it in the way she held her sword, the way she moved around Barbossa's strikes.
For a man of his age, the pirate captain was deceptively fast and vicious. Will could tell from the way he fought he would be a difficult opponent even for him. Jack was poised and elegant and did not like to kill, but Barbossa…he showed no quarter not even to a woman.
"Enough of this silly nonsense." Barbossa snarled at Peggy as they unlocked swords "Put that sword away lass! We don't have time for this-"
"Why should I?" Peggy spat raising her sword into a guard position "What's the matter ye old codfish? Getting tired already? Need a nap?"
"Peg," Will groaned softly to himself, head hanging low over the cursed gold. Of all the times she had to pick a fight it had to be now.
"I still have yer whelp's life in me hands," Barbossa leered at her torn between smugness and frustration "and I cannae die until the curse has been lifted so I don't know what you're trying to achieve-"
"Excuses, excuses!" Peggy cut across him sharply with a roll of her eyes. "What's the matter, Hector? Too much of a cockless coward to take me on? I suppose you would be, after all the reason you threw me overboard in the first place was because I was too much of a threat to your position. That's what you said right?"
"No Peg!" If Will's hands had been freed he would have facepalmed. He had no idea what put it into Peggy's head to pull a stunt like this, but it was nearly suicidal. Even HE was not this reckless.
There was a collective "ooooh" from the crew of the Black Pearl as they watched the challenge with bated breath. As much as they wanted to be rid of their curse, the prospect of a duel was exciting and entertaining. No one had been brave enough to follow through on challenging the captain in single combat so brazenly, not even the Bosun, who in addition to being Barbossa's second hand was also one of the strongest men in the crew.
Peggy watched Barbossa's face closely as he considered her challenge. He had every right to refuse. Indeed, refusing would have been the smartest move for him. Even without the immortality and invulnerability the curse had gifted him, he was the more experienced swordsman. He was bigger than her, more vicious and he also had Will's life to dangle as a hostage.
However, she had insulted his manhood and his bravery in front of all his men and such offences could not go unpunished. Also, she was right. He had admitted she was a threat to his position as captain the night before. If he backed out now, it would just confirm to his men that they had another option to replace him as captain, an option who was a lot younger and had the magic of the ocean on her side.
Then there was the chanting. Peggy's breath caught in her chest as she felt the crew of the Black Pearl's chants of excitement resonate through the caves, bouncing from floor to ceiling over every coin and chest of gold and silver.
It was a heady sound, eerily in time to the pounding of her own heart in her ears as she did her best to maintain her composure. Something of her nerves must have shown on her face, for Barbossa's sneer widened mockingly.
"Ye sure ye want to do this lass." The old pirate hissed raising his sword tip to glide against the side of her blade, but not striking. Not yet. "I ain't like ol' Jackie. I won't go easy on ye. Indeed I'll give ye such a hiding yer will wish ye had never been born."
Peggy gulped, a familiar childish fear creeping into her veins as memories of sparring against Barbossa on the deck of the Pearl flooded her mind. Though Jack had been her main teacher in the art of the sword, Barbossa had on occasion sparred with her on deck if he was not around or too unwell.
Well, Barbossa had called it sparring. Truth be told, it was just an excuse for him to brutally beat her arse to the ground without Jack intervening. In hindsight, it had toughened her up quickly to the harshness of battle and taught her to never turn her back on an opponent. On the other hand, she still flinched at the memory of the flat of his blade smacking hard into her backside, leaving large welts and occasionally small cuts if the sharp edge of the blade 'accidentally' dug into the flesh.
The chanting grew louder and faster as the eagerness of the sailors grew.
"Blood, blood, blood, blood." The chant was disturbing and frightening even to Peggy's ears.
All this bloodlust from so many men and she was outnumbered.
"Begun by blood" Barbossa raised his sword eyebrow quirking at her "By blood un-" he stopped abruptly as his gaze froze over Peggy's shoulder.
"'scuse me. Pardon-excuse me. Thank you-" A voice wafted into Peggy's ear.
Will strained his head up and his eyes widened in shock.
"Jack!"
"'s not possible…" Barbossa breathed; eyes comically wide as he lowered his sword.
"Not probable" Jack corrected him as he stumbled over a pirate's foot "Oh sorry mate."
Peggy kept her blade raised but turned her head to look back.
There he was. Unharmed and unblemished as the last time she had seen him.
Jack Sparrow.
This man…this man has the luck of the devil himself…either that or he is the devil himself. Peggy could have wept for joy at the sight of his goatee as he meandered his way to the front of the crowd of bewildered pirates.
"'ello love. I see you've started the party without me." He grinned at Peggy only to frown at the sight of the sword in her hand. When he caught sight of the sword in Barbossa's hand he sighed heavily "Seriously mate I can't leave the two of you alone without a fight breaking out?"
"Where's Elizabeth?" Will asked, managing to straighten up as his two captors' grips loosened in surprise.
"Oh her? She's safe just like I promised." Jack grinned "She's all set for marrying Norrington just like she promised and you get to die for her just like you promised. And darling Pegsy here gets to hit anyone she wants for hurting a hair on your head just like she promised. So we're all men of our word really. Except for Elizabeth and Peggy who are in fact, women."
"Shut up! Yer next!" Barbossa snapped raising his sword to Peggy's neck only to be met by her blade coming back up defensively.
"You don't want to be doing that mate." Jack frowned.
"Nah I really think I do." Barbossa sneered angrily at Peggy who returned the wrathful expression with interest. "This selkie pup of yers is long overdue fer a lesson in manners."
"…your funeral." Jack shrugged.
There was a pause in which Peggy could see the gears turn in Barbossa's head. As annoyed as he was at the interruption, he also could not leave a question unanswered. His curiosity always won out in the end.
"Fine. And why don't I want to be doin' it?" the older pirate rolled his eyes at Jack.
"Oh because – oy gettof mate!" he slapped away the large dark hand of the Bosun as it tried to hold him back. "Because the HMS Dauntless, the pride of the Royal Navy, is floating just offshore, waiting for you."
And let me guess you led them right here? Peggy mused silently as many of the pirates around them murmured. Some were worried, but some were itching for a fight, their appetites for violence wetted by the earlier promise of a duel.
"Look let's just put the swords away and hear me out, mate." Jack strode up to Peggy and took her sword from her, stashing it in his belt for safekeeping with one hand while the other looped casually around her waist to hold her to his side as if she were a wench from a Tortugan brothel.
Had this been any other time, Peggy might have slapped his grip away but something about the way he glanced at her gave her pause. He had a plan. The bastard had a plan up his sleeve he was waiting to spring. She was not quite sure what it was, but the little ten-year-old girl in her was screaming at her to trust him once more as she had done all those years ago.
"Trust me," he said, eyes moving deliberately to Barbossa though his fingers gave her side a gentle but reassuring squeeze. "I'll make this worth yer while."
"…I'm listening." Barbossa sheathed his sword on his belt and folded his arms, eyebrows raised expectantly. Even if Jack was going to speak total codswallop at least it would be entertaining.
"You order your men to row out to the Dauntless, they do what they do best – "
This earned Jack a titter of chuckles from the crew.
"- Robert's yer uncle, and Fanny's yer aunt. There you are with two ships. The makings of your very own fleet. 'Course you'll take the grandest as your flagship and who's to argue. But what of the Pearl…name me captain. I'll sail under your colours, I'll give you ten per cent of me plunder, and you'll get to introduce yourself as Commodore Barbossa, savvy?"
Peggy's eyebrows rose. This was interesting…if there was one thing Hector Barbossa always wanted it was a fleet under his command. He was a powerful and infamous pirate in his own right, but he had never truly loved the Pearl like Jack had. The only reason he had taken the ship was that he needed a vessel to be captain of, and secondly, because he wanted to torment Jack by taking away the thing his heart treasured most.
However, the Dauntless was more Barbossa's style. She was nowhere near as fast as the Black Pearl or the Interceptor, but she was hardier against rougher seas and could pack a powerful punch in a fight. She was a beast of a ship and with a fresh lick of paint, she'd be a very fearsome sight to behold on the open ocean.
And to top it all off, Jack was offering to put himself under Barbossa's thumb as a loyal stooge.
It was a tempting offer.
"I suppose in exchange you'll be wantin' me not ter kill the whelp?" Barbossa snarled at the young blacksmith beside the casket.
"No, no, no not at all." Jack waved him off casually ignoring Will's flaring nostrils and flashing eyes of fury. "By all means kill the whelp! He's bloody annoying and he's ruining this one for me -" He added pinching Peggy's waist to silence her before she could open her mouth " - Just not yet…wait to lift the curse until the opportune moment."
Jack gave a pointed look at Will who felt his body relax as understanding dawned on him. Jack did not care about this deal; he was just stalling for time…for Will's time. He was using Norrington and his men to lure all the other pirates out of the caves and lower Barbossa's defences.
But what about Elizabeth? Wouldn't she get caught in the crossfire? Yet somehow, Will had a feeling Jack had already thought about Elizabeth's safety. Even with Barbossa sending most of his men out, Jack needed backup. He knew Will and Peggy would not fight for him if they did not think he had their interests at heart.
Will glanced up at Peggy to see if she had caught on yet. She was scowling at Jack but her eyes were not as sharp as before even as her captain pulled her in a little closer to his side. To Will's surprise, and slight annoyance, she did not protest the gesture and indeed, seemed to relax a little into the pirate's touch as he picked up a handful of golden cursed coins from the stone casket.
"For instance…" Jack muttered fingering the coins absentmindedly as he held Barbossa's gaze steadily in his own. "…after you've killed Norrington's men. Every-" he tossed one coin into the chest "-last-" another coin dropped in "-one."
There was a final plink of metal, yet Peggy caught sight of a small glimmer of gold between Jack's fingers as he pushed a single stray coin up his sleeve.
Sly old crook. It took everything she had not to smirk. Instead, she forced her nostrils to flare, pursing her lips to hide her retreating fangs so Barbossa would not notice.
"You've been planning this from the beginning. Ever since you learned my name." Will growled.
"Yes," Jack smirked at Will who snarled, and Peggy thought it would have been a rather convincing act had it not been for the lack of that special cold gleam that usually possessed his eyes when he had lost his temper. She just had to hope that Barbossa had not noticed either of their tells.
It appeared not, for even as she looked at the pirate she could see he was busy mulling over Jack's proposition.
"I want fifty per cent of yer plunder." Barbossa snorted, chest puffing out with an air of importance.
"Fifteen!" Jack countered.
"Forty!" Barbossa argued only to get shot down just as swiftly.
"Twenty-five! I'll even buy you a new hat," Jack said amiably before another figure could be shouted. "A really big one. Commodore." He added with a tiny wink.
"Good, it can match his inflated head." Peggy rolled her eyes. "Seriously if that thing gets any larger he'll cause a solar eclipse-OW!" she winced as Jack cuffed her on the back of the head.
"Manners love." he scolded her, much to Barbossa's delight and to the crew's fond amusement.
"We have an accord." He reached out and shook Jack's hand firmly.
"All hands to the boats!" Jack gestured grandly, arms spreading so wide he almost knocked Peggy backwards into the cursed chest.
"Sorry love." He patted her down as he helped her right herself on her feet, his expression turning sheepish as he caught sight of Barbossa's annoyed scowl upon him. "Apologies." He meekly bowed his head to his old first mate "You give the orders."
"Gents!" Barbossa turned back to the men, shoulders back, spine straight. "Take a walk."
Oh, Jack Peggy gulped as she and Will both glanced at one another, then at the back of Jack's dreadlocked head.
I hope you know what you're doing.
Notes:
There we are, Chapter 11 is up. We're almost at the end of Curse of the Black Pearl.
Nearly at the juicy action parts. Looking forward to writing Jack and Barbossa's fight when it comes ;) I really enjoy getting to write more Peggy and Barbossa scenes. I feel like Barbossa was the grouchy parent who reluctantly let Jack take in a stray cat (Peggy) but ended up somewhat fond of them in his own grumpy way.
I also really enjoy the Elizabeth and Jack scenes. I kinda feel that Elizabeth is an interesting character to write. I always had a headcannon that she didn't just want to meet a pirate as a young girl but she always wanted to BE a pirate and that's why she adapted so quickly to the pirate way of life. She's always been colder and more ruthless than Will and was always good at manipulating. She just never had the opportunity to explore that side of her because it was never expected of her as a woman in that society. But now she's on her way.
If you enjoyed this chapter, please fave, follow or add a review. Your feedback is always welcome (so long as it's constructive).
Thanks and see you next time.
FuzzyBeta
Chapter 12: A Moonlight Serenade
Summary:
"Don't worry miss, he's already informed of that. A little mermaid flopped up on deck and told him the whole story."
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Officer Philip Gillette, you are, without a doubt, the most insufferable little man I have ever had the misfortune to meet. Elizabeth Swann snarled to herself as she rowed the small tub of a rowboat across the darkened waters.
Good grief, of all the men Commodore Norrington had to leave behind to be in charge of her and her father's safety, it had to be that titch.
He was one of the lesser nobles of Port Royal who had been able to climb the ranks faster thanks to his father's connections, though his simpering and brown-nosing personality left much to be desired. He had been one of many men Elizabeth had rejected courting over the years, and she did not doubt he had enjoyed ordering his men to lock her in the captain's cabin "for her own safety," as he put it in his mocking tones.
The joke would be on him because, for all his assurances to his commanding officer, Gillette had not been cautious in securing Elizabeth in her gilded cage.
Even pirates like Hector Barbossa had been more thorough in keeping prisoners.
And now here she was, having escaped the Dauntless by tying all the sheets and cloth she could find in the captain's cabin and rappelling down the stern of the ship into the small rowboat kept for emergencies.
It had been a rather daunting climb down, but Elizabeth pushed through. If Norrington and his men were going to be stubborn about listening to her warnings, then she had no choice but to take matters into her own hands.
She may not have been a pirate like Peggy, but she knew enough about Barbossa to guess what he might have done.
If the pirate would sacrifice Will on that same altar in those caves, she assumed he would take nearly his entire crew with him into the caves, just as he had done yesterday with her. He seemed to like the drama and showmanship, after all.
That meant only a handful of men would stay aboard the ship for security. Despite the dangers, it would still be easy to sneak aboard, free the rag-tag crew of the Interceptor and storm the caves with them.
She just hoped her arms would not give out before then.
God, how did William make this look so easy? She puffed, wiping her hand across her sweaty brow.
She was barely a quarter of the way to the Black Pearl, and her slender arms were already burning.
Just hold on, Will, I'm coming.
Will Turner's heart hammered in his chest as he stood in the centre of the magnificent treasure-filled cavern, a bald pirate guarding him on one side, though his hands were tied tight behind his back.
He was not sure which deity he should thank, the Lord Almighty or one of the heathen gods, but somehow, he was still alive.
He was still breathing. His neck had not been split apart to bleed all over a casket of cursed gold, nor had his guts been spilled. He was alive and breathing, thanks to Jack Sparrow's timely intervention.
In all his life, Will never thought he'd ever be grateful to a pirate for saving him. Least of all, one as selfishly driven as Jack. Oh, and he was still selfish.
Even when helping others, he was still a selfish man through and through.
Will glanced at Jack, who stood nearby, casually swiping through the piles of gold like a magpie on the hunt. Close to him, Peggy stood alone and unguarded, glaring at Barbossa, who sat on the side of the mound of gold on which Cortez's treasure chest sat open and waiting.
Despite having drawn a sword to attack the older pirate, none of the crewmen he had ordered to remain behind dared approach her. Every time someone reached to touch her, she would snarl and bare her fangs and claws at them. In the end, Barbossa stopped trying to force the issue and instead ordered his men to hover around her just in case, though they kept her away from any potential weapons.
Will did not know whether to admire her tenacity or not. He still could not believe she had been so reckless to have challenged Barbossa to a sword duel in front of his entire crew. Granted, it had the surprising boon of buying Jack time to reach them, but still, had Barbossa not been so reluctant to engage, it could have gone poorly very fast.
Will did not doubt Peggy's skill in a fight, but she had been out of practice for a little while, and Barbossa was a seasoned swordsman in a dangerous occupation where many men died young.
At least now that Jack had culled the numbers down, the three of them stood a chance if they worked together.
He had no idea how this would be achieved, but what choice did they have?
And Elizabeth. Poor Elizabeth was out there on the Dauntless, away from their help. Yes, she was on a navy ship with a crew of trained officers, but these were no ordinary pirates. They were cursed and undead and nearly unkillable.
Did she know Jack's plan? Did she know Jack was double-crossing Commodore Norrington and his men? Or were she and Norrington in on the plan? There were so many questions but no way to see the truth. It was maddening.
Will glanced at Peggy.
She was kneeling by a pile of gold and treasure, and like Jack, she had started curiously picking at it. However, unlike Jack, she did not pocket any trinkets or coins. It looked like she was biding her time to Will, for her eyes often flickered to Jack, who returned each glance with a tiny smirk or a slight tilt of his head.
Despite his relief that his friend seemed to know what was happening when he did not, Will felt his mood sour as he looked back at Jack.
He knew it was silly; he knew logically that he and Peggy also had a strong bond. They had lived with one another for ten whole years! But for some reason, he could not shake off the tiny pangs of bitterness whenever she and Jack fell into sync. It just was not right.
…at least not to him.
But while Will turned his eyes back to Jack, Peggy watched her two captors as they hovered nearby.
Both men tried their best to keep a sharp eye on her, but the constant tinkling of coins and crashing of metal upon metal from where Jack was obnoxiously rummaging around for valuables distracted them. Occasionally, their eyes would flicker to the eccentric pirate to see what he was tossing lest it be dangerous.
But Peggy was not so easily distracted.
Years of listening to Will hammer away at the anvil in his forge while she read nearby had taught her how to focus her attention even with loud noises around her. She just had to wait for the right opportunity.
Something gold caught her eye as it stuck out from a nearby pile, and she gulped. It was an ornate golden sceptre poking out amidst a pile of coins with the tip shaped like a Fleur de Lys.
It must have been looted from the French.
Peggy thought as Jack tossed a heavy necklace of massive rubies without care over his shoulder, drawing the eyes of her guards and Barbossa away one more time as the trinket almost fell into the water. Carefully as she dared, she slid in front of the sceptre, so it was obscured from view, her hand carefully wrapping around the handle behind her back. It was not much, but it would have to do.
Thunk!
Splash!
Peggy gulped as Jack took a small golden fertility idol from a nearby pile of gold and tossed it aside like trash before picking up a simple string of beautiful, shiny black pearls and pocketing it.
"I must admit, Jack, I thought I had ye figured. But it turns out yer a hard man to predict." Barbossa snorted from his seat, eyes transfixed on his old friend as he tossed another priceless treasure aside like junk.
"Me, I'm dishonest." Jack shrugged as he straightened up, but something was different in his stance. He was stiffer, more concentrated.
Behind her back, Peggy gripped the sceptre handle tight as she took a slow and silent step towards one of her guards.
"And a dishonest man you can always trust to be dishonest."
Another slow step and a pause to make sure no one was noticing her. However, the eyes of Barbossa and his men were fixed on Jack. Even Will was not looking in her direction.
So far, so good.
"Honestly, It's the honest ones you want to watch out for…"
Any moment now. She glanced at Jack, who met her eye for a split second, smirk flickering at the corners of his mouth as he sauntered over to where one of the pirates was skipping stones over one of the shallow pools of water.
"Because you can never predict when they're going to do something incredibly…stupid."
WHAM! THUMP!
"GAH!"
Barbossa's head snapped back to Peggy just in time to see one of her guards fall to the ground while she drew back the heavy sceptre in her hands and struck down the second pirate on the head, knocking him clean out.
However, the pirate captain had no time to bark out the orders because Jack chose that moment to push the man skipping rocks in front of him into the water and steal his sword.
As swift as a snake, he tossed the blade to Will, who caught it deftly in his hands, pushing his captor away with his hips. The muscled man stumbled over, nearly tripping face-first into the water as Will leapt away, twisting his body so another pirate attacking him, sliced through his bonds and freed his hands.
Amid all the confusion, Peggy tossed the sceptre aside and stole one of her captor's cutlasses from their belts, raising it only just in time to catch Barbossa's blow as he bore down upon her from on high.
"Oh I don' think so lass!" Barbossa's lip curled with bloodlust and pleasure, pushing down on her hard as she tried to back away to put distance between them. "Now yer arse can get that hidin' it deserves!"
Peggy stumbled back, cursing her dress as she nearly tripped over her long blue skirt. But she kept her footing, glowered up at Barbossa, and defiantly spat in his face:
"Or maybe I thrash yours!"
She pushed back against the pirate and lunged forward in a riposte, the tip of her sword aiming for his eye only to have it swept away.
She blocked his counterattack and countered that with her own, but it was clear even to her that he had the advantage. Barbossa's reach was much longer than hers, and he wore easier pants to move in.
With each attack and counter, he pushed her further away from Jack and Will's aid as they engaged the other pirates in the room.
Peggy, however, kept her composure.
He may be the better swordsman and partially undead, but she was younger and faster than him and had built up stamina from all those years of hard labour.
She could endure. She had no other choice.
Blast this effing dress! she thought as she fell back against a pile of treasure after tripping over her skirt again.
"Peg!" Peggy heard Will's worried shout, but she had little time to focus on him. She rolled over onto her back and found the tip of a sword hovering inches above her breasts that heaved as she panted for breath.
"Ah, now this is more like it." Barbossa ran a tongue over his teeth, chuckling as she spared him a dirty glare.
"Piss off, you mangy dog!" Peggy knocked his blade aside with her own, leaping to her feet and lunging hard for her opponent, only to get tossed aside once more.
As she stumbled, she yelped as something long, flat, and metal slapped her on the rear very hard, forcing her to fall into another pile of treasure.
"YOU!" she growled as she rolled over, rubbing her behind as she felt the familiar sting and bite of the strike.
No. NO! This was NOT happening again. She was not the same little girl he used to smack around for jollies.
Quickly, she rolled to her feet, lips curled in disgust as Barbossa chortled with wicked mirth at her pain, only for it to get rapidly cut off by her violently taking a slice at his head.
He dodged to the side and found himself on the defence as she aimed swipe after swipe for his body, her eyes flashing silver and her fangs bared. Her nostrils flared with victory as she managed to nick his jaw, blood staining his scraggly beard even as he pushed her blade to the side, only to have her lunge once more for the face.
Barbossa ducked fast, only to stare in shock as one of the dark feathers of his beloved hat was sliced in two, the top half floating down right before his eyes.
His sneer fell into a roar of rage. Peggy's eyes widened in fear as she blocked and parried his now ferocious attacks, barely able to counter as his fury overtook his fancy footwork.
Now, she had done it. Now she had pissed him off.
She cried out as she dodged to avoid a violent lunge that still somehow was strong enough to slice her on the shoulder. Luckily for her, it was only a tiny cut, but it was still painful enough to distract her as Barbossa caught her blade in his, twisted his hand and disarmed her.
There was a clatter as her weapon fell to the floor and a splash as Barbossa kicked it away into a nearby pool of water.
But Peggy could hardly pay attention to that as she felt one of his heavy arms try to wrap around to draw her into a headlock.
"NO!"
Peggy had no idea where the shout of protest came from, but it was enough to distract Barbossa from his task. On instinct, more animal than human, she grabbed his hand before it could grip her neck and sank her teeth into his flesh.
"SHHGGAHHHHGH!" Barbossa hissed in pain as sharp fangs pierced through his skin, drawing blood from four deep puncture wounds.
With a heavy KATHWACK, he backhanded Peggy with the injured limb, the impact slamming her into the floor.
Dazed and vision spinning, Peggy struggled back to her feet, doing her best to scramble away from the swearing pirate behind her as he shook out his bleeding hand.
"ARGGHH! Get back 'ere brat!" He roared, footsteps slamming down hard as he stormed up to the stumbling woman, sword raised-
CLANG!
"Outta my way, Jack!" Barbossa hissed as Jack Sparrow shoved him back, sword raised to attack as he stood between the other pirate and his prey.
"No can do, mate." Jack snarked, not taking his eyes off Barbossa even as he shouted back at Peggy. "Go Pegs. I'll take it from here."
Peggy did not need to be told twice.
Hitching up her skirts, she ran, barely heeding the clanging of swords behind her as Jack and Barbossa resumed the fight.
"Yer off the edge of the map, mate!" Barbossa's snarl bounced off the cavern walls eerily as he caught Jack's blade in a cross "Here there be monsters!"
"Finally!" Elizabeth puffed as she stopped rowing and let her tiny boat float gently towards the side of the Black Pearl.
It had taken her a long time, but she had made it.
Now, she had to climb the ship's side without getting caught.
She almost groaned as her slender arms protested at the sight of her monumental task.
Muscles? Ha! Muscles were for commoners. Why would a noblewoman be expected to lift anything greater than a teacup or silk skirt for a curtsey?
Despite her great love for her father, Elizabeth could not help but resent his coddling nature. She knew he only wanted her to live in nothing but comfort and security since her mother died. However, now she was out in the world alone, leaving her woefully unprepared and helpless.
Well, she was not completely helpless. At least his desire to indulge her every whim had allowed her to read as many books as he wanted on subjects that most would consider too complex for a woman to comprehend as well as a man. So, with books as her whetstone, she had sharpened her mind, wit, and guile.
And here she was…clambering up the side of a cursed pirate ship, body aching and heart hammering as she did her best to stay as silent as possible.
So far, so good. She bit her lip as she quietly clambered past an open cannon hole where two pirates had set up a table with food, drink and candles.
The smell of the food was heavenly, and Elizabeth prayed her stomach would stay quiet as she slowly and gingerly hoisted herself around the opening. It had only been a few hours since she last ate, courtesy of Norrington's tender care; however, after that long row between ships, she felt like it had been days.
"What would ye pick to eat first?" one of the pirates' legs bounced up and down with excitement as he grinned at his friend across the table. "I think we should decide now, just so we're ready when the time comes."
Poor men…So much misery over a chest of gold.
Elizabeth felt a stab of pity for the two men as she hoisted herself to the railing and onto the deck of the Pearl.
Now, to find Gibbs and the crew.
Peggy puffed, ignoring the stinging in her bruised cheek, her stinging arse, and cut arm as she grabbed a sword dropped on the floor and ran to the other side of the cavern where she could see five undead corpse-like figures surrounding a familiar head of brown hair and pinning him by a wall with their swords pointed for his throat.
Peggy recognised a couple of the men as the two she had knocked out with the sceptre.
It appeared that the Curse of Cortez gave the pirates immunity to most mundane forms of death and helped them recover much faster from injury.
Fine then! I'll have to figure out how to keep them knocked out long enough.
"OI! Pissant!" Peggy picked up a small gold figurine from one of the piles and flung it at the back of one of the men's heads. It hit its mark a little too well. The impact was strong enough to knock the skull-like head from the spine and send it tumbling with a splash into a nearby pool of water.
Uh…oh dear…oops…. Peggy gulped, feeling a pang of guilt as the decapitated body of the undead man tried lunging around blindly for his head.
God, it would not be a pretty picture if he did not find the head before they won the battle and undid the curse.
However, whatever guilt she had diminished as the distraction she had created had allowed Will to dart away from the wall and back into the open space beside her.
Together, they fought against each pirate. Though they had never fought as a team like this before, they had fought against one another often enough to know their tactics and aid them.
Peggy knew Will liked long sweeping strikes and using his reach to keep his opponent out of range, so she kept her stance low and her body close. Meanwhile, he knew Peggy liked the quick lunges in and out, providing her ample room to move around his body.
What he had not expected from his partner was her willingness to fight just as much with her claws as she did with her sword. She took it with enthusiasm if ever she could use her nails, whether to swipe at a pirate's jaw or scratch at their eyes. And it was a good thing, too. Such moves were handy in blinding their opponents and giving them the much-needed edge in their fight.
Will almost felt envious that she had an extra weapon on hand, but then he remembered he did have a pair of legs and a free arm ready to kick and punch if necessary.
Unbidden memories of his first fight against Jack echoed through Will's mind. How silly he had been back then, thinking that cheating was unfair. That good swordsmanship and honour was all one needed in a fight.
While he would not betray his dignity and honour, Will could now see his folly as he fought to the death against these pirates. If cheating meant he or the people he loved did not die, he would take it and run with it if need be.
His gaze sought Peggy's red head of hair as she ducked under his arm to swipe at a pirate with her sword, nicking him in the eye. Thank God she was by his side again.
Will could barely concentrate while she was duelling Barbossa for his dread. From what little glimpses he had tried to catch of Peggy whenever he tried to come to her aid, she had managed to keep pace with the pirate captain. She may have done better if she wore pants like she usually preferred when sparring, but it was a testament that she had survived the battle thus far.
She was alive, and he would do everything to keep it that way. And when they got out of this mess, and they would, he would never let her out of his sight again.
"JACK!" Peggy's terrified shout almost jolted him out of his thoughts as he slammed a chalice over the top of a pirate's head and shoved him aside.
There, high above them on one of the many ledges in the cavern, Jack Sparrow stood opposite Hector Barbossa, a silver-bladed cutlass sticking straight through his gut.
"No, Peg!" Will grabbed Peggy tight around the middle to stop her from bolting.
An awful gurgling sound escaped Jack's throat, and he stumbled backward into a ray of moonlight peeking in from the ceiling above.
Peggy's yell died as Jack's body suddenly lost all its flesh, the clothes becoming tatters, exposing his bony ribs and hollowed-out insides.
Curiously, Jack raised a gaunt, skeletal hand to inspect it in the moonlight.
"That's interesting…" he muttered, lowering his hand and bringing up his other one.
A glimmer of gold hit Will and Peggy's eyes as the moonbeam shone down on the cursed gold coin, tinkling and turning over on the skeletal knuckles.
"That rotten little cad." Peggy sighed, shaking her head. Of course, how could she have forgotten? Then again, she had been so busy trying not to get killed.
"Couldn't resist, mate." Jack grinned toothily at Barbossa, whose lip curled in a scoff as he reached down to the ground. With a shout, he tossed a handful of coins in Jack's face to blind him from the oncoming attack, which allowed Jack to recover quickly and meet the blow with a block.
However, Peggy and Will had no time to continue watching the two captains' fight as a pirate came up beside them and aimed a downward slash from on high while two pirates ran out behind a pile of gold, flailing their arms and roaring at them.
Peggy and Will split apart. Will drew away the two screaming pirates, who were bigger and heavier, while Peggy took the shorter one with a beard and a red hat.
As he fought against her, Peggy could see the fear bright in the pirate's eyes as she bared her fangs in a snarl at him, nostrils flaring and eyes flashing silver.
She had never seen her face in a mirror while angry, so she had no idea how hideous or terrifying she might have looked to others, but she was not about to complain about the results.
Being feared like this was a heady tonic. Peggy could see why men like the Devil and Barbossa would covet power like this. After all those years of being afraid of so many things, it felt good to have someone quaking in their boots at the sight of her.
Yet as she advanced upon the frightened man, he quickly took a small handheld explosive from his pocket, which he promptly lit, the short fuse sparking and sizzling.
"Peg, get away!" Will yelled from behind her, but Peggy was already backing away from the device as the little bearded man threw it in her and Will's direction.
With a cry, she pushed Will out of the way only to find herself thrown back from the shockwave as the device exploded on the floor, sending golden coins and treasure scattering around the floor like shrapnel.
Ears ringing, she scrambled for purchase on her sword, eyes widening as she saw the little man with the beard rush at her with wicked glee.
"I'm gonna teach you the meaning of pain!"
"You like pain?!" a new voice yelled. A very familiar feminine voice.
There was a loud, heavy thud and a groan of pain as a long, strange pole flung the man aside.
And there, holding onto the large pole, dressed in a man's breeches, a shirt and a red coat, her blonde hair flying loose about her face was-
"Try wearing a corset!" Elizabeth Swann spat down at the groaning man at her feet.
"Lizzy?!" Peggy grinned as Elizabeth held out a hand to help her stand. "Nice pants."
"Nice dress." Elizabeth grinned back only to stiffen in readiness as a pair of feet thudded towards them.
It was Will, and he looked as shocked as if a green giraffe with pink spots had strolled across his path.
"Elizabeth?! What are you doing here?"
But Elizabeth was not paying him attention. Her eyes were on Barbossa and Jack, who fought furiously behind them.
She wondered at the two pirates as they slashed, parried, riposte and countered one another with expert precision.
She had seen the officers sparring on occasion when she and her father inspected the troops at the fort and knew enough by watching to tell when men had talent, but she had never seen two men fight like this. It was almost entrancing to watch.
Jack's fighting style was unexpectedly smooth and flowing for a man who usually presented himself as clumsy on land. Gone was the almost drunken sway to his step. In its place was the grace and skill of many years of experience. She was willing to bet he could beat Commodore Norrington in a fight without cheating or playing dirty.
And Barbossa…Barbossa was ferocious. He, too, had good technique, though he was far more vicious and violent with his strikes. He was faster than Elizabeth expected for his age and more powerful. His shoves and beatdowns were heavy against Jack's smoother style but still just as effective.
It was almost like they were dancing around one another.
Then they stumbled into a large moonbeam, and her heart almost stopped in her chest.
As soon as their forms slid into the light, their bony, undead, skeletal forms gleamed white, almost blinding them as swords clanged in a flurry of swipes and lunges.
"Whose side is Jack on?" Elizabeth muttered in horrified fascination as Jack painfully sliced off a nasty chunk of flesh that hung from Barbossa's back.
"At the moment…" Will gulped as Barbossa cried out in horrific pain.
"…ours, I think." Peggy finished his sentence, only to gasp as she caught a glimpse of gleaming metal out of the corner of her eye, its point aiming right for Will's head.
With a cry, she shoved Will out of the way while Elizabeth clocked the man with her pole weapon, only for Peggy to turn her with it to defend against the two swords of the remaining pirates that swung down upon her.
With her fellow woman's help, Elizabeth pushed back the three pirates, kicking the last until they formed a single line while Peggy shoved the pole forward with all her strength.
There was the crunching of bone as the pole spiked through the spines and ribs of the three pirates, linking them painfully together in a line like pieces of meat on a skewer.
"Stay back!" Will shouted as he ran up to the three pirates, a smug grin on his face as he yanked a small explosive from the belt of the short, red-hatted man in the centre of the odd chain, lit the fuse, and shoved it into his ribs where his heart should have been.
With a hard shove, Will, Peggy, and Elizabeth pushed the three pirates out of the ray of moonlight and back into the shadows. As they moved, their flesh reformed around their bodies, trapping the explosive in its original owner.
With a terrified squeal, the man pawed at his gut and chest, grubby nails dragging frantically at his clothes like a dog trying to dig up its bone while his two fellow pirates desperately did their best to pull their impaled bodies away from the ticking human bomb.
"No fair! Not FAIR!" the short pirate whimpered, eyes pleading for mercy as Will, Peggy and Elizabeth backed away from him quickly to escape the oncoming blast.
KABOOOM!
"The chest! Go-go-go!" Peggy pushed Will ahead of her and Elizabeth as the explosion behind her sent a shower of gold and silver coins raining down upon them heavily from behind.
Will did not need any telling twice.
Jack had Barbossa occupied. Nearly all the undead pirates were dismembered or too distracted to capture them, so now was his only chance.
Within a couple of long strides, Will reached the mound where the chest of Cortez's cursed gold lay open and waiting, only pausing at the top to catch his breath.
Now for the final piece!
Will looked down at Jack. The man had taken advantage of the loud shouts and explosions to distract his opponent and had successfully driven him back towards the cursed treasure chest with several hard blows. There was a grunt as Barbossa was flung back onto a pile of gold, Jack using the opportunity to cut his palm to coat his stolen piece of cursed gold with his blood before throwing it up at Will.
Will caught the trinket deftly, wrenched the medallion from around his neck, and sliced a shallow cut into his palm with Barbossa's stone dagger that lay in the stone casket atop the cursed coins where he had dropped it earlier.
Almost there-
There was a scuffling sound and the click of metal.
"NO!"
SPLASH!
Will's eyes swivelled down, breath catching in his chest as all-time seemed to slow down.
There was Elizabeth sprawled on the ground, eyes wide with shock.
A few feet away, Hector Barbossa stood, pistol cocked and raised to take a shot.
And between the noblewoman and the pirate was Peggy, standing on a rock amidst pooling water, arms outstretched to block her friend from view.
"PEG!"
BANG!
Peggy Blake winced, eyes shutting tight as the gunshot blasted through her ears. The echoes reverberated around the treasure-filled cavern, bouncing off the piles of gold, stony walls, and stalactites.
She braced herself for the pain, for the burning bite of the bullet…but…
Nothing…
She cracked an eye open.
The entire cavern was still.
No one was moving; everyone stood motionless.
Will was staring down at her, his face so pale with terror she had never seen before that he looked almost ready to faint.
She could hear Elizabeth's shocked gasps for breath behind her.
But most bizarrely of all was Barbossa.
He stared at Peggy in shock; his pistol raised before him…unfired and unused.
However, smoke rose from a point a few feet away from him.
All eyes in the room turned to look at the source.
Peggy shivered as she beheld the Jack Sparrow.
Gone was the usual smarmy smirk air of impish mischief and cunning. Gone was the slouch and saunter of his countenance.
His face was cold and hard, almost near-emotionless and devoid of life. But his eyes were sharp as daggers and gleamed with such a burning menace as he lowered his smoking pistol from where it had been pointed straight at Barbossa's chest.
Peggy gulped. She had only ever seen Jack this murderous once before…and it had not boded well for the subject of his ire.
His was a fuse slow to burn. But once it was sparked, hell hath no fury.
Barbossa knew this, and though he scoffed and snorted at Jack, Peggy could see the anxious trepidation in his gaze.
"Ten years ye carry that pistol, now ye waste yer shot!" Barbossa spat.
"He didn't waste it!"
All eyes turned towards Will high above just in time to see two golden coins drop from his bleeding hand.
Peggy's heart hammered like rolling thunder as she watched the two pieces of cursed gold drop with a couple of plinks into the chest.
This was it…this was it.
She shuddered as she felt something like an invisible wall of cold pulse through the air. Ripples formed in the tide pools around them as if an invisible wind swept over their surface, and loose gold coins in the treasure hoard slid and shifted like sand grains in a desert dune. The strange heaviness that had weighed down around them in the air seemed to lessen while the shadows of the cavern seemed less dark than before.
It rolled through her like a wave in the shallows, chilling her to the bone and making goosebumps all over her skin.
She wondered if Will or Elizabeth had felt the change in the air because she was certain Jack and Barbossa did. Both men seemed to stagger under a little on their feet as if invisible strings had been cut with a knife.
There was the clatter of metal as Barbossa dropped his sword, wrenching his coat and vest aside to look down at his chest. There, staining the white cotton of his shirt, was a growing patch of crimson.
"Hector?" Peggy gasped, eyes burning hot and wet as she gaped at the blood spilling from the mortal wound down his front like a waterfall.
"I…" Barbossa's gaze flickered between Jack and Peggy, his eyes watering. Peggy felt her heart constrict in her chest.
She had never seen Barbossa be so afraid of anything in her life. He might run and flee a situation, but she had never seen genuine fear in his gaze.
Yet even as she looked closer at his face, she also saw elation and relief as he muttered.
"I feel…"
For the first time in ten years, he was truly feeling something.
For the first time in ten years, he was feeling human…
And yet…
"I feel…cold."
Commodore James Norrington panted for breath as he pulled back his blade from his opponent.
The fight had been long and hard. For all the chaos and disorganisation of the undead pirates, they were fearsome opponents.
Their corpse-like bodies were enough to send chills into every man on board the Dauntless, Norrington included.
Undead…in all the God-blessed and cursed world, the undead and the supernatural were real.
That fact was enough to shock the hearts of any man.
The fact that his men were expected to fight against these brutes for as long as they had was a testament to their loyalty to the crown and their courage in the face of death. Norrington commended them for their valour silently in his head as he drew back his sword from his opponent's gut, blood staining the tip of his blade.
Wait a moment? Blood?
Norrington looked at the dark pirate before him.
Gone was the skull face; gone were the skeletal ribs barely covered by filthy ripped rags.
Now, a man stood before him—a man of full flesh, his snarling face twitching as brown eyes blinked and looked up at the light of the bright full moon above.
He was not the only one.
Where once had stood animated corpse-like beings, rough and scrappy men stood staring up to the heavens, some patting their bodies down to feel the flesh that had moulded back over what had once been unfeeling bone.
There was a thud as the man before Norrington keeled over sideways, lip twitching with the ghost of a final smile.
Despite his confusion, Norrington felt a pang of pity for the fallen foe.
For one split second, he had not seen an enemy to be struck down but a bedraggled lost soul who had found peace at last.
And the dead man was not the only one.
There were loud thumps and clatters as swords and weapons dropped from the pirates' hands. Norrington even saw some of their enemies' weep with joy as their fingers traced lines over the skin of their cheeks or breathed in the night air.
"The cold…I can feel the cold…" One pirate whispered nearby, his hands trembling as he felt for his heartbeat.
There was a scuffling sound nearby as one of the pirates, a stringy tall man with a thatch of straw-like hair who was, for some reason, wearing a pink silk and lace dress, stood up, pressing something into one of his eye sockets.
His partner in crime, a short and pudgy figure also wearing a dress stood up and grinned, raising his hands in surrender as he gulped sheepishly.
"P-Parley?"
"The ship is ours, Gentlemen," Norrington smirked.
"Huzzah!" the officers around him cheered, their faces smiling with victory and relief as they raised their fists in celebration.
"Huzzah!"
"Huzzah!"
"Huzzah!"
There was a silence as Jack pilfered through the treasure horde.
Finally, after all the years of scraping by searching for answers. After all those sleepless nights cleaning out his pistol and saving that final bullet…It was finally over.
And now all that was left to do was take whatever loot he could carry and bring it back to his beloved Black Pearl, and that would be that. Oh, sure, there would be the issue of returning the whelp and his blonde bonnie lass back to Port Royal, but that would not take too long. He had his ship, his riches and his cabin girl back.
Speaking of, where has that girl got to?
Jack looked around for a head of red hair only to stop short at the sight that met him.
There was Will Turner, standing beside Elizabeth, looking as besotted with her as if an angel had crossed his path.
Disgusting brat.
Jack narrowed his eyes and shook his head as he picked up a golden crown and placed it on his head.
The blonde-haired temptress had barely been in his presence for two minutes, and the whelp was already back under her thrall, forgetting everyone else, even the woman who had risked her life for him.
Who cares. Now that he's showing his true colours, maybe Pegsy will finally see sense and return to the Pearl. Jack thought bitterly as he began picking up random treasures of varying weights and throwing them over his shoulders like a cat wanting to toss a potted plant from a shelf for no reason.
He ignored Will's annoyed glower back at him. Indeed, he rather enjoyed the irritation.
Serves the whelp right. Jack smirked as he threw another heavy gold idol away with a loud clang. And it serves you right too, Miss Swann…for throwing away all that precious rum – ooooh! That's a beauty. He grabbed at a long gold necklace with a massive sapphire, keeping his ears pricked as Elizabeth finally mustered up the courage to say:
"We should return to the Dauntless."
"Yes…" Will mumbled, and to Jack's surprise, the lad looked away from Elizabeth. "Your fiancé will want to know you're safe."
There was no anger in Will's voice…but there was distance, and it only seemed to grow larger as Elizabeth nodded quietly with a slightly hurt expression and walked away from the young Blacksmith.
That's interesting…
Jack frowned as he picked up a goblet and sauntered casually towards the younger man.
"If you were waiting for the opportune moment…that was it." He pointed at Elizabeth's retreating back.
"I know…" Will nodded, and to Jack's astonishment, the lad's eyes were not on his lady love.
Instead, they focused on a head of coppery curls a few feet away.
Peggy was kneeling by Barbossa's side, tears streaming down her cheeks as she held something green in her hand.
An apple? Jack blinked in surprise as he watched her place the fruit into the dead man's hands, which she folded gently over his chest.
He always did love his bloody apples.
Despite his anger and disdain for his old First Mate, Jack could not help but feel a twinge of sadness as he and Will watched his body be carefully repositioned in a more restful pose.
Enemy or friend, it was never easy seeing a man die up close, especially when you knew them so well. And Jack had known Barbossa for years. It was a ruddy shame it had to end this way after all they had been through together, but that was just life. You couldn't change it; you just had to roll with it. Though Jack would have preferred to roll with this passing with a bottle of rum to hand.
There was a rustle beside him, and Jack watched as Will kneeled beside Peggy, gently wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
"You did what you could," Will murmured, pressing his lips into Peggy's temple as she fiddled with something in her fingers. It was, to his astonishment, two silver coins.
"He always…" Peggy gulped as she tried to scrub away her tears. "He always said if he could not be cremated or buried at sea, then at least give him two coins for the ferryman."
Will nodded in understanding, and though it ached at the sight of her tears, his heart also swelled with warmth and pride. Even now, after all the violence and hatred the man had thrown at her, she still wanted to do right by him in death.
"Do you need my help?" He asked softly, and she shook her head.
"No, I'm nearly done…besides…I need to do this." She sucked in a deep shuddering breath as she reached out to the dead man's face.
Barbossa's blue eyes were still open, but the light of life had long since been snuffed out. Now, they were glassy and dark as Peggy reached out towards them.
With the gentlest of touches, she slid the eyelids down with one hand, the other carefully placing a silver coin over each socket before tracing the apple in his folded hands.
She remembered stealing aboard the Black Pearl for the first time in Tortuga. She had sneakily overturned half a barrel of apples so she had enough space to stow away. She remembered how angry Barbossa was when he and Jack had discovered her presence and how often he had reamed her over the coals for the loss of his precious cargo for months. Even long after he had forgiven her for the crime, he had often niggled her about it during one of their many spats.
How it must have burned him not to be able to touch the fruit for all these years without enjoying the taste.
"Rest in peace, Hector Barbossa," Peggy muttered softly, squeezing his gnarly hand. "May the wind and tides guide your soul safely to the shores of the dead."
"And may those shores forever be stocked with the best rum and all the apples ye can stuff yer face with,"
Will looked up to see Jack kneeling on Peggy's other side, his face staring intently at Barbossa's resting face.
Peggy found her tears returning as she met her old captain's gaze. Behind the smirk, she could see some sadness in the brown kohl-lined eyes, but then it was gone as he quickly shook himself.
"Well…as sad as this all is, we best get goin' love. No point waitin' around 'ere when there's nothin' more we can do for him, ey?"
Will wanted to snap at the pirate's blasé attitude but stopped quickly as he saw Jack's ringed hand reach up to pat Peggy on the cheek and wipe away a stray tear with his thumb.
There was nothing inappropriate about the action. Indeed, it was the most innocent touch Will had seen Jack bestow on his Cabin Girl, or any woman on this voyage. There was no teasing, no jesting or scoffing. Just comfort and care between two friends who were sharing in grief.
Will might have thought the moment touching had it not been for the now familiar bitterness that stung his chest as Jack pulled his hand away to fondly ruffle Peggy's curls before standing up.
"Now if you'd both be so kind, I'd be much obliged if you'd drop me off at my ship." He sauntered away, treasure and sword in hand, leaving Peggy to smile tearily at his back and Will to grimace at it.
"He'll grieve in his own time," Peggy murmured at Will as he helped her stand. "Jack's…he's surprisingly private about these sorts of things."
"I figured as such." Will nodded, doing his best to ground himself back to reality. Yet even as he looked down at her freckled face again, his arms shot out and wrapped around her like a vice.
Peggy blushed as his hands gripped her tight against him, awfully aware of Elizabeth and Jack watching them from the entrance to the cavern. What was Will doing? The love of his life was right there watching them. If Elizabeth saw them like this, what would she think?
"Will?!" Peggy squeaked as he squeezed her tight in his arms, almost as if he were afraid she would vanish if he let her go.
"What were you thinking?" He mumbled hoarsely as he buried his nose into her curls atop her head.
"What was I what?" Peggy gulped, her hearing half muffled as she had one ear pressed against his thundering heartbeat.
"What do you mean 'what was I what?'!" Will rumbled, "You idiot! You lucky, lucky idiot! You challenged Barbossa to that duel, then pushed yourself to take the shot."
He moved his hands to grab her on the sides of her head and pulled her forward.
"Ow!" Peggy winced as his forehead knocked against hers in a gentle headbutt.
"You're lucky you didn't get killed!" he whispered, a hand cupping the back of her neck to keep her from breaking contact.
Peggy tried to struggle but stopped at the sight of Will's face. His jaw was set in an angry scowl, but his brown eyes shone with unshed tears as he nuzzled his forehead against hers and breathed in her breath.
"Don't you ever scare me like that again, you hear me?" he murmured, fingers running through the hair on the back of her head. "Never, ever again."
"Hark who's talking." Peggy smiled breathlessly as she smacked his chest. "I'm not the one who pulled a gun on himself or handed himself over to be a human sacrifice."
"I did what I had to save your life-" Will growled, half annoyed, half fond.
"And I did the same for you." Peggy cut across him, her face still smiling with relief despite herself. "And I'd do it all over again if I had to."
Will stumbled a little as she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him again.
Will's eyes shut as he became enveloped in her familiar scent. One hand wrapped tight around her waist while the other buried itself in her hair to cradle her face into the crook of his neck.
God, how close he had come to losing this…he dared not think about it. If Jack had come a few seconds too late…if that dagger had slipped from Barbossa's hands and sliced his neck open…if one of those pirates had stabbed him during the fight…if Barbossa had killed her when she fell over.
There were so many things that could have gone wrong that hadn't…it was terrifying.
But they had gone right. And here they were, together, alive and whole at the end of it.
It was over.
There was silence as Peggy, Will and Elizabeth stared at the back of Jack's crowned head.
They were in the rowboat and had just left the darkness of the caves. Will, who had been rowing, had steered them around a bend to find the Pearl where it had last been docked, only to find a patch of empty water where a black ship should have been.
"I'm sorry, Jack." Elizabeth was the first to speak.
"They've done what's right by them. Can't expect more than that." Jack said listlessly, staring blankly at the spot where his beloved ship should be.
Peggy sighed at the pitiable sight.
Even after all the trials and tribulations, the Black Pearl had again slipped from his fingers. Jack's luck was wretched.
"Where to now?" Will wondered aloud, and Jack's shoulders deflated. "Do we go wait on the shore or-"
"No. This island is cursed, mate." Jack snapped with a surprising sternness, making his three other boatmates flinch like scolded children.
"I would not step foot on its shores for shelter or provision. It was made by the gods for one purpose an' one purpose only. An' that purpose 'as been served."
There was silence as they all looked back at the black maw of the caves of Isla de Muerta. It was like staring into the gaping mouth of an ancient evil leviathan.
"So if not shore…then where?" Peggy muttered.
"Where else?" the pirate grumbled, sounding more like a sulking child than a fully grown man. "Back to bloody Commodore and his lot."
"But Jack, you'll get arrested and hung by the Navy!" Peggy gritted her teeth as she felt her eyes burn once more.
"Oh, so now you're worried about me gettin' caught?!" Jack rolled his eyes waspishly at her. "Ye didn't seem to have such a problem with leaving me for dead a few days ago."
"Jack, a few days ago, I was angry, confused and upset at you because I thought you had left me for dead." Peggy snapped, standing up and carefully clambering over Will to sit beside her old captain at the bow. "I see now I was wrong. I am sorry."
Jack scoffed, and she scowled.
"I am Jack. I know what happened that night now. Barbossa told me everything."
"Oh, he did, did he?" Jack folded his arms mulishly. "Come on, out with it. What did dear Hector say?"
"He said you tried fighting for me." Peggy put a hand on his shoulder. "That you did try to protect me."
"And you thought I did not?" Jack grunted, and Will thought the pirate sounded hurt. "I know I've got a reputation, love, but did ye really think I'd kill a kid? Or let Barbossa kill you?"
"No…I know you wouldn't." Peggy looked down at her lap guiltily. "But that night…everything just turned on its head, and I thought you had too. And then…when I was drifting out at sea for hours, and you didn't come back for me…" she trailed off, gulping down the hard lump in her throat as Will reached back to grab her bracingly by the arm. "Look…I know…I know what happened that night was not your fault, and I'm sorry I spent years blaming you for it. And I am sorry for turning on you and leaving to die twice."
There was a silence as Will and Elizabeth looked at Jack's back for an answer.
The pirate's entire body had been stiff through Peggy's apology, but Elizabeth could see his ringed hands clenched tight around the goblet he had pilfered from the treasure horde.
It was strange. Jack Sparrow had always seemed above it all, brushing everything difficult or complex off like water off a duck's back. But not this time. This time, something had hit home deep inside. Had Elizabeth not been watching for the signs, she might have missed them too easily.
Even as he straightened up and shook himself off, she could hear his voice, which was not quite its usual charming drawl.
"Apologies are all well and good love. But that still does not change the fact that we need to get out of here-"
"Jack-" Peggy tried again but stopped as Jack grabbed her hand on his shoulder.
"Good grief, love, would you stop blubbering for once an' listen to yer captain." He shook his head with fond exasperation. "There ain't no point in us huggin' it out and being all sorry if we can't get ourselves outta here. If risking the hemp men's jig is the only way to hitch a ride, then so be it. Besides…if Barbossa's lot has damaged the Dauntless, it might take a while to repair it. It might take us a bit longer than normal to reach that dumpy Port ye call home. Maybe weeks. An' a lot can happen in a few weeks." He added with a small derisive snort.
"Now quit complaining and keep a weather eye out." He turned back to stare at the open ocean. "The Dauntless can't have gone far. Not if they're looking for our dear Future Missus Commodore!" he jerked a thumb over his shoulder in Elizabeth's direction.
There was a beat as the noblewoman bristled uncomfortably in her seat, her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment at the title bestowed on her, but for once, Will barely paid it any mind as he gripped Peggy's shoulder bracingly.
"Come on Peg…it's time we go home."
Peggy stared out at the open ocean over Jack's shoulder.
"Yeah…let's go home…"
Notes:
And there we are! Chapter 12. Nearly at the end of Curse of the Black Pearl.
It was not as long a chapter, but I felt this was a good spot to end it. I enjoyed writing the action scenes and giving Peggy a bit more to do than beg for Will's life. I don't fence or have any experience with sword fighting beyond video games and playing pretend as a kid (I mean, I do know hand-to-hand martial arts, so I have some fighting experience) but I can imagine that sword fighting in a dress would be bloody hard even if you have skill especially if the dress is cumbersome.
Also, Barbossa is no pushover. He may not be the Biggest Bad guy in the franchise and is one of the older characters, but he's strong enough to survive and get through some pretty tough knocks.
Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed, and please keep favouriting, Following and reviewing if you enjoyed or if you have ideas on what you'd like to see next
See you next time.
FuzzyBeta
Chapter Text
It was the dead of night. The moon had risen into the sky in a slim silver crescent. All was quiet outside, the streets silent and peaceful, except for a stray cat's occasional meow.
Peggy groaned as she flumped back onto her bed in her clean white shift.
Two weeks.
Two whole long weeks she had been away and she and Will had finally made it back home to Port Royal safe and sound…and with their heads still attached to their bodies.
Peggy ran a hand over her face to cover up her cough as dust entered her nose. Of course, Mister Brown would never lift his hand to clean anything, even himself, when they were gone, so the small dwelling, while clear of clutter, was not quite the usual standard of cleanliness she prided herself in. To her surprise, the man was not lounging around with a bottle in his hand.
He must be at the pub. She thought glumly, though it flew from her mind as it raced back to the events of the last few days.
To her and Will's great surprise and relief, the Governor of Port Royal had offered them a pardon for the crimes they had committed against the Navy as well as a monetary reward for rescuing his daughter. Peggy had no doubt that Elizabeth had vouched on their behalf, but still, it came as a surprise to Peggy that she had been let off the hook. Will, she could understand being let off since he was a first-time offender, but she was sure that with her record and close association with Jack Sparrow, she would either face jail time or the noose.
But no. For some reason, she had been spared. Not only had she been spared, but she had been let off the hook, surprisingly Scott-free.
Will had been tasked to scrub the ship like a cabin boy throughout the voyage home, but Peggy had found herself stuck at Elizabeth's side taking care of her like a replacement ladies' maid. Peggy did not know why she was assigned to such a position. Maybe Norrington thought her gender made her less of a threat? Or had Elizabeth put in a word for her? Either way, Peggy was confused but was not about to look a gift horse in the mouth when the alternative was a long drop and a short stop.
Jack, on the other hand…
Despite the pirate's reputation, Governor and Commodore Norrington seemed regretful that they had to put the man in handcuffs once more.
Jack, while a scallywag, had assisted the Navy and helped save his daughter like he said he would. Perhaps he did so non-conventionally, but he had kept his word, which had to count for something.
Unfortunately, the law was the law, and Jack's crimes against the Crown were too numerous. He had no remorse for any of them, even though Peggy thought some of them were more than justified.
Maybe it was the pirate in her, but she always felt the British Navy and the other military branches of the British Crown were their class of scum. She had nothing against the individual officers. Most were blindly faithful sheep who were probably men you could happily share a pint and swap stories at a pub. But the higher-ups, the elite? Those men were another kettle of fish, and the institutions they belonged to…well, you could smell the corruption from a mile off like a Tortugan pigsty.
She could not blame Jack for not wanting a bar of an honest society when an honest society thought matters like the enslavement and degradation of other humans were acceptable business practices.
Still, such was the way of the society in charge, and now they would hang Jack.
She had not seen him since the night they had defeated Barbossa and broken the curse of Cortez. Norrington had been very swift in clapping Jack in irons and putting him in the brig with the rest of the pirates they had managed to capture from Barbossa's old crew.
To Peggy's surprise, most of Barbossa's men had been surprisingly subdued after their Captain's death and their freedom from dark magic. Losing their invulnerability from the curse had made many men cautious about tempting fate again or stirring up trouble.
However, this did not stop many of them from jumping ship during a massive storm that hit the Dauntless three days into the voyage home. Despite their new lease on life, the pirates had left Jack behind alone in his cell in the brig, their anger at his part in their incarceration all too palpable in the faces of those they had left behind.
To her surprise, they had left Peggy well enough alone during the escape. They had attacked a few Navy Officers who dared apprehend them, but they backed away from Peggy if they crossed her path, most of them only sparing her looks of fear and disgust as they muttered, "Selkie witch."
Rat-tat-tat!
"Peg?"
Peggy looked up.
Will was standing in the doorway of her bedroom, looking apprehensive. He was dressed only in a fresh white shirt and trousers, his dark hair still slightly damp from his bath.
"You still had the candle lit." He muttered, nodding at the said candle on her bedside.
"You can't sleep either, huh?" Peggy mumbled as she sat up to lean against her pillow, patting the small space beside her.
"No matter how hard I try, I can't. I mean, I'm glad we're home, but…"
"But it still doesn't feel quite right." Peggy finished softly.
"No…it doesn't." Will shook his head as he sat beside her, lifting his legs and wrapping an arm around her shoulder so they reclined side by side on the bed, her head resting against his chest.
Peggy shut her eyes as she felt the familiar thudding of his heart against her ear like the soothing beat of a drum, as his fingers began stroking through her curls.
"Everything's so different now." He said after a long pause. "We've sailed with pirates, fought against curses, and nearly died several times. Yet we come back, and everything looks the same, and everyone expects us to go on like we did before."
"It's eerie, huh?" Peggy mumbled into his shirt, enjoying how his body vibrated against her cheek as he chuckled.
"Downright bizarre, and-"
"Wrong." Peggy finished, her eyes burning with that familiar sting of unshed tears. "Jack shouldn't hang."
"I know," Will muttered softly as he rolled onto his side and brought his other arm around her. "He's a good man. A selfish, strange and insane one perhaps, but not a bad one."
Peggy let out a watery chuckle, cursing softly as a tear escaped her.
"Damn, you'd think I'd toughen up by now." She mumbled as Will reached up and gently wiped her cheek with his thumb. "Gods, why am I such a blub these days?"
"Maybe because you've been holding it in for too long," Will murmured into her hairline. "Maybe you just need to let it out?"
"Maybe." She agreed glumly. "Still annoying, though."
"I don't mind." Will nuzzled his nose into her hair. "We'll figure something out."
"He hangs tomorrow." Peggy groaned, but Will shook his head.
"But he's not hung yet. It isn't over."
"And once he's freed, then what?" Peggy mumbled. "Where do we go? What do we do?"
"I…I don't know." Will admitted, grip tightening around her as he pressed a soft kiss atop her head. "But it will work out. There's still time."
No, there isn't.
Peggy sighed, her eyes drifting to where the cuff of her shift had slipped from her right wrist. There, stark against her skin, she could see the edge of the black ring and the blackened veins creeping out like theroots of a poisoned tree.
There's hardly any time at all.
"The prisoner is secure, sir."
"Good. This way, Miss Blake."
Jack watched as Commodore Norrington escorted the young red-haired woman into the small, stark room. To the man's credit, he still acted like a proper gentleman towards the young selkie woman despite her pirate status, though his eyes were suspicious of them both.
He would be a fool not to be. Jack thought as his eyes turned to Peggy.
She was wearing the cornflower blue dress Barbossa had given her once more, and he had to admit his late adversary had good taste. The colour suited her copper-red curls braided over one shoulder and her grey-blue eyes far better than that dowdy brown ensemble he had first seen her in.
Who'd have thought his feisty and tomboyish little cabin girl could look like such a lovely, demure lady?
He barely heard Commodore Norrington's warnings from his spot at the door not to cause any trouble before they were locked away for twenty minutes.
Jack was not sure how he could cause trouble. His hands were bound with rope in tight knots even he could not undo without a helping hand, and he did not have a sword or a knife to cut his bonds. He had left his coat back on the Pearl a while ago, and from what he could tell, Peggy's hairstyle did not require her to wear any sharp hairpins.
The room around them was stark and made of stone. It was a small cell kept just off the courtyard of Fort Charles. It was the place men came to wait for their hanging and the final visit from a priest so he may save his soul or from any family that may wish for final words.
Jack, however, had refused the holy man's visit. He had never been devout or holy, though he respected other people's beliefs and creeds. Besides, he knew his soul was beyond saving and had long ago made peace with it. However, he was surprised that his last request to see Peggy one last time had been allowed. With his track record and past connection with the young woman, he would have thought that the Commodore would have refused.
But no. Here she was.
And she was looking tired.
It was not a tiredness of the body but a weariness of the soul. Jack felt the unpleasant stirrings of guilt in his gut.
He knew that Barbossa's death had weighed heavily on her, and now she would bear the burden of his death, too.
"The Commodore said you wanted to see me." She mumbled, hands twisting in her skirts as she cautiously approached him.
"Aye love. I did." Jack gulped, feeling the two gunshot wounds on his chest tingle a little as he caught sight of the way her eyes watered ever so slightly. To her credit, she held her composure, though he could see it was only by the thinnest of threads. "Thought it only right, one last goodbye before the end. And I gotta say it was well worth it. "
"Just so we're clear, this isn't a conjugal visit." She managed to snort cheekily, and Jack rolled his eyes oh-so-disappointedly.
"Ahh, shame. Your loss, love."
They both chuckled, Jack stumbling a little as Peggy crossed the room swiftly and flung her arms around his neck.
He shut his eyes as she hugged him tight, unable to return the embrace with anything except his head, which he leaned against her shoulder.
It had been long since he'd received such warm and innocent affection from anyone. None of the wenches he slept with had ever done anything more than what he paid them for, and he barely had much in the way of close mates since the mutiny all those years ago. Gibbs was perhaps the closest to a friend he had made during that time, and as for family…well…affection had never been their way.
Peggy was one of the few who would ever hug him like this without some ulterior motive to knife him in the guts or trick him.
To think he had thrown this away for ten years.
He was almost as much a fool as that selfish, rotten Turner whelp.
Silly girl. She's still too soft for her own good sometimes. He shut his eyes and sighed.
"I'm sorry, love." He murmured into her hair, "I'm sorry I didn't listen to you, and I'm sorry I left you behind."
"I forgive you," Peggy mumbled hoarsely, and he knew that she had started crying. "I forgave you a long time ago. I just was mad. I'm…I'm sorry I can't do much to help you now-"
"You're helping more than you know, love," Jack grunted. He hated it when women cried; it was worse to hear Peggy cry. It was almost like kicking a sickly kitten and it did awful things to his gut that not even a bottle of rum could dull. "Not many men get to have a beautiful woman say goodbye to them before they dangle from the noose."
And she was beautiful, in that fierce and wild, untameable way.
Like the ocean, he mused as he pulled away from her and reached into his pockets.
"I got somethin' for ya."
"Jack-"
"Oh shush Pegsy, don't want that bloody Commodore bustin' our hides." He muttered as he jiggled his bound wrists, and something clattered into his hands.
Peggy sucked in a shuddering breath at the sight of a thin silver chain adorned with a circular abalone shell locket.
"Nicked it from Barbossa's horde before the battle." Jack grinned impishly as he shut the silver clam to hide the small jewel. "Yer always did like these shells, didn't ya?"
"Jack, you shouldn't have-"
"Why not? The way I see it, I won't have much use for it in a bit." Jack shrugged nonchalantly. "Besides, I had to give you somethin' to remember me by."
"I don't think I could forget you even if I tried." Peggy sniffed. "You're too bloody crazy."
"I believe the word you're looking for is extraordinary, love." Jack's smirk softened as he deposited the necklace into her hands, the silvery surface of the pendant shimmering in the light streaming through a barred window high above. "Just promise me one thing."
"What, Jack?"
"Whatever comes next, live life for yourself for once, will ya?"
"Jack-"
"Ey-ey! I'm not finished!" Jack tutted, and she quickly shut her mouth, though tears streamed freely over her freckled cheeks. "That tall eunuch might have ya thinkin' that the entire world revolves around his pasty backside, but never forget you had a life of your own before you met him. A life where you were happy and unafraid to call the shots and march to the beat of your drum. It's all good that you're good at lookin' after me and others like that whelp, but it ain't no sin to spare some of that kindness for yourself. Don't set yourself on fire to keep others warm."
"That's easy for you to say," Peggy mumbled."You're one of the most selfish people in the world."
"Exactly!" Jack did not deny the statement, for he could tell her words were not said out of unkindness: "I am a selfish son of a sea-biscuit. Which, I think you can agree, makes me an authority on the topic, ey? But in all seriousness, Pegsy, if there's one thing you learn from me and Barbossa kickin' the bucket, let it be this: You only get one shot at living. One good shot to make it count. What good is that one life if you spend most of it bein' miserable for others? If you're gonna be sad or happy, at least do it for yourself and not for someone undeservin'"
"Sometimes you have no choice," Peggy muttered bitterly, clutching at her right wrist only for it to be grabbed by one of his roped hands.
"Ah, but that's where you're wrong Pegs." He shook his head. "You always have the choice to be happy. Anyone who tells you otherwise is an arse that deserves to be shot. Besides, if anyone deserves to be selfish and choose happiness, it's you, love, if only because everyone else forgets to pay that big bleedin' heart of yours in kind." He raised his bound hands to gently tuck a stray copper curl behind her ear. "And as a selfish person, that is something I don't say lightly -oof!" he winced as he felt her arms wrap tight around him again.
This hug was much tighter than the last and involved much more crying. Jack, of course, did not shed any tears, though he did feel frustrated by not being able to reach around and comfort the crying selkie with his hands so tightly bound.
Over the years, he had often made many women cry because he broke their hearts after some meaningless fling, stole from them, or betrayed them in one of his schemes. He was sure he'd leave a lot of women who'd wail for his death because of his charm and prowess, and so many women would ultimately be pleased with his passing.
And yet, here he was in the arms of one who would genuinely mourn him. Not because he had pleased or seduced her into falling head over heels for him. Not because he had made her false promises he would never keep even if he was alive. Not because he was THE infamous (or famous) Captain Jack Sparrow.
To Peggy, he was just Jack.
She knew him. She was perhaps one of the few who knew him just as well as the stragglers that remained of his blood-related family. Even ten years apart had not been enough to wipe that bond away.
The notion that he had someone out there to grieve him when he hung was… was strangely…nice.
Jack had not had nice for a very long time.
It almost made being hung at the gallows worth it.
He just wished he was not leaving her heart to the mercy of that damned selfish whelp.
"Miss Blake."
Peggy blinked, cursing herself as she felt something hot and wet slide down her cheek. She was out in the courtyard of Fort Charles. It had been half an hour since her visit with Jack ended, and the tears had not stopped.
Gods, what was wrong with her? Why couldn't she keep herself together? She quickly tried wiping at them only to find a handkerchief held out to her in a man's clean hand.
"Thank you, Commodore." She mumbled, taking the cloth and dabbing at her eyes as Commodore James Norrington stood to attention beside her.
"You're welcome, Miss Blake." He clipped as he turned back to look at the courtyard. Even though the prisoner had not been brought out yet, many people were already gathered. Even in his death, Jack's notoriety preceded him.
The thought almost brought a fond smirk to Peggy's face.
"Are you sure you wish to remain for the hanging," Norrington suddenly piped up, and Peggy blinked at the officer. He wore his finest dress uniform, clean and polished as a whistle. Yet his eyes betrayed his discomfort even as he ventured further. "I am sure I could spare one of my men to escort you safely home for the day. No one would judge you for not wanting to witness your frie-Sparrow's death. It will not be pleasant."
"Oh dear Commodore, that is exactly why I must remain." Peggy folded her arms mulishly. "Everyone here will be cheering for his death. He deserves at least one person to mourn for him."
"You truly would spend your kindness and loyalty on a knave like him?" Norrington wondered aloud,
"Why not? It is my kindness and loyalty to spend how I please." Peggy snorted, the embers of her grief fanning themselves into burning frustration within her gut. "I am surprised, Commodore; I did think the welfare of a pirate would be of such concern to a gentleman such as yourself. Unless it is all for the sake of winning the approval of your fiancé." She added with a quirked brow and was not disappointed to see the slight colouring of the man's cheeks despite his attempts to stay stoic.
"I will not deny that Miss Swann's friendship with you has been a major factor in my change of mind towards you, Miss Blake. In my experience, her approval and friendship are not easily won prizes." Norrington admitted softly, "Though that does not mean my sentiment towards you right now is not genuine. In the course of my duties, I have had the unfortunate task of watching many men hang and witness their families grieve for them. Whatever those criminals did in life, the fact they even have one person to mourn their passing is a sign from God that there is some good within them that is worth bereavement. While I struggle to comprehend what you see in a man like Jack Sparrow, you do not strike me as the kind of woman who sheds tears for anyone. He must have had a remarkable impact on your life to bring forth such a strong reaction from you."
"More than you could ever know, Commodore." Peggy sighed as she watched the executioner, a beefy man in brown clothes and a dark hood, test the trapdoor mechanism to the gallows.
"You can bestow a crown and as many royal privileges as you wish upon a donkey, but beneath it all, it will always be just an ass." She spat almost bitterly, ignoring the confused look Norrington shot at her. "It was something Jack once said when I became his Cabin Girl. I never used to understand his resentment of civilised society…till now. We keep telling ourselves that since we're civilised, it somehow gives us the right to be above everyone else. And yet…how many good people have died because the law favoured civilisation over what was right?"
"Miss Blake-" Norrington started to say, but she shook her head and rolled her eyes as she held his handkerchief back for him to take.
"Thank you for your consideration, Commodore. But I am not going anywhere."
To her great surprise, Norrington shook his head, his eyes wells of pity even as he gently pressed the handkerchief back into her hand and curled her fingers around it.
"…Then perhaps it is best to hold onto this Miss Blake. You will need it, more than I will." He was not condescending, nor was the pity grating. He was truly trying to be considerate.
Peggy might have hated him for it if the sight of Elizabeth and her father striding across the courtyard arm-in-arm had not distracted them both.
The poor man. He loves her so much…and she does not care.
She mused sympathetically as the Commodore strode to greet the nobleman and his daughter.
Elizabeth looked beautiful in a yellow day dress and hat, much fancier than any of Peggy's darker garments. Her blonde hair was curled and tied back elegantly behind her head, with a few immaculately defined curls dangling over her pale chest, giving her the look of pure angelic and pristine beauty.
She was the complete opposite of Peggy, with the plain blue linen of her dress and her unruly curls threatening to escape her clumsily tied fishtail braid that she had slung over one shoulder and tied with a black ribbon. She had not even worn a hat or head covering like any other woman in attendance, and around her right wrist, she had wrapped a white bandage to cover the Devil's mark, pretending to have sprained it so no one would badger her for answers. Then there were her shoes, ratty little things made of scuffed black leather with a tarnished buckle and no stockings, for she had outgrown hers and had not had time to buy a new pair.
But what was the point of trying anymore? Peggy sighed heavily as she quietly stepped back into the shadows of a pillar to escape the hot Caribbean sun. She would never be that perfect lady. She would never be the face that launched a thousand ships, what with her unbecoming freckles, tanned complexion and rough hands that had seen too much scrubbing and pulling of ropes.
No wonder decent men like Will and Norrington would never look her way twice. Why would they, when they had the perfect English Rose to dote upon?
As she tucked away the Commodore's handkerchief, she quickly looked down at her chest, where she had fastened the abalone shell locket. It was a beautiful, elegant piece that probably looked out of place on her breast. The iridescent shell cast small rainbow shimmers whenever the sunlight hit it at a certain angle.
"Peg?" a voice whispered, and Peggy looked up to see a familiar face peeking out from behind a pillar a few feet away.
"Will?" Peggy frowned as the familiar figure of her dearest friend stepped out of the shadows. He wore his best brown vest and trousers, and his white shirt was pressed and clean. Around his shoulders, he wore a new red cloak and an almost garish hat with a large white feather atop his head.
Peggy felt her heart clench painfully as she remembered Barbossa's oversized black hat that she had ruined during their duel. It was probably collecting mould atop his rotting corpse right now, and there wasno one there to bury him with it.
Something of her grief must have shown on her face, for the hug that Will bestowed her with was tighter than one he'd typically give her in public. Then again, he had been somewhat extra tender towards her since Barbossa's death. He was never improper in front of the officers, but he was far less guarded with his gentle touches and bestowing a hug in front of others, even Elizabeth. Even throughout the voyage home, he did his best to stick by her side whenever they had a break from their assigned tasks. Peggy suspected it was his way of staying close to his beloved Elizabeth now that she was engaged.
Now, however, he did not seem to care for any propriety. Indeed, he ignored the gossiping whispers of a couple of noblewomen who passed by with their husbands on their way to their spots, sparing the blacksmith and the washerwoman glances of intrigue and high-brow disdain as he cupped her cheek and wiped her tears with his thumb.
"Have you seen Jack already?" Will murmured as he leaned his forehead against hers.
"Yes…he's…well, he's Jack. What can I say?" Peggy shrugged, trying her best to stay calm and failing miserably.
"And you? How are you feeling?" Will probed gently.
"As well as I can be under the circumstances." Peggy gulped down the lump in her throat.
"You don't have to hide how you feel," Will muttered. "You know I would never judge you."
"I know you wouldn't," Peggy mumbled, smiling sadly as she heard the distant shouts of officers commanding 'the prisoner' to be brought out.
"It's time." She muttered and was about to pull away, but Will held her close, sucking in a deep breath as his nose grazed her hairline.
"I've got to do something quickly." He murmured, lips grazing her forehead featherlight with each word. "I'll be back soon, but just in case I'm not…" Peggy watched as his Adam's apple bobbed nervously. "Peg, whatever happens from now on, just know that you are very dear to me and one of the most precious people in my heart. You're more than just my friend, a selkie, or a pirate. You're family, and I will be forever grateful to whatever deity washed you up on that beach and brought you into my life."
"William." Peggy sighed, eyes shutting as he kissed her between the eyes.
His lips lingered over the spot they had touched for a second or two, as if he could not pry them from her skin. His warm and rough thumb ghosted across her lightly parted lips so gently that it almost felt like the softest gust of wind.
But then the moment was gone, and Peggy opened her streaming eyes to see the red of his cape billowing out of sight around a corner and the glimmer of metal as she caught sight of two swords holstered on the blacksmith's hip.
Wait, two swords?
"Oh no…" Peggy gulped as dread filled her.
Oh no, this was not good. Not good.
"Will you fool! What are you doing?" She breathed and was about to follow in his footsteps when she felt a hand reach out to take hers.
"Peggy! There you are! James said you were back here."
Peggy turned to see Elizabeth standing behind her, looking anxious and surprisingly sheepish.
"They've brought Jack up to the noose. They're reading his sentence." The noblewoman gulped, "But if you don't want to watch, we can stay here together until it's all over."
"N-no! I'll be there. I need…I…" she gulped down on her rising panic threatening to engulf her.
Just what was Will playing at? What did he hope to achieve with so many officers ready to arrest anyone who dared intervene? He was going to get himself killed!
Calm down, Peg, calm down. If Will's going to save Jack, he'll have to return to the courtyard. Elizabeth and her father will be there, so I can intervene from there if I have to.
"I'm sorry, Lizzy. I just needed a moment." She coughed as she straightened up, letting Elizabeth lead her back to the edge of the courtyard to stand with her, her father, and Norrington above the rest of the crowd, where they had a clear view of the gallows. Peggy bristled uncomfortably even as the Governor bobbed his head politely at her, his eyes welling with sympathy and compassion despite his attempt to stay stiff-upper-lipped.
Then, the drumroll began.
Peggy felt sick just listening to it, her gut broiling and twisting with nerves and terror. It was almost as bad as whenever she transformed into her seal form, except there was no familiar cracking of bones changing shape to distract her from the sensation.
She knew she must have looked ill because Elizabeth wrapped an arm around her shoulders and clasped her hand tightly as the government official readJack's sentence.
"Jack Sparrow! We have learned that you have-"
"Captain," Peggy muttered before she could stop herself. "Captain Jack Sparrow." She looked at said Captain on the gallows. To her great surprise, Jack was watching her closely, and his almost sad grin was on his face as he rolled his eyes at the portly and haughtily voiced government official.
Trust him to make a joke out of his own hanging. Despite herself, Peggy shook her head and rolled her eyes fondly at the pirate even as the official's voice rang out.
"-for your wilful commission of crimes against the crown. Said crimes being numerous in quantity."
"That's an understatement." Peggy found herself muttering again, eyes now scanning the crowd. The official's voice drowned out to her ears as she spotted Will's feathered hat. He had pulled the brim low over his eyes, but she could feel the keenness of his gaze as he looked around the courtyard, assessing each vantage point.
"This is wrong." Elizabeth's voice beside her sounded miles away as Peggy caught Will's eye, and it turned away from her quickly.
"Commodore Norrington is bound by the law, as are we all." Governor Swann said stiffly, but Peggy did not listen.
She had been distracted by a flash of blue and yellow high above.
Her eyes found a banner held up by the officers Murtog and Mullroy on the opposite side of the courtyard. On it, a parrot with bright blue and gold plumage perched and began squawking loudly, much to the annoyance of the bannermen and the people at the back who were trying to listen to the entirety of Jack's crimes.
It was an extensive list. Even Peggy could not believe half of it, and she had been involved in a couple of the hijinks.
But her head and heart were not focused on such trivialities, not when her heart soared in her chest.
She'd know that squawk anywhere, but…they wouldn't have. Not if they followed the code…
She met Will's gaze again and saw the same spark of joy reflected in his eye even as he wove through the crowd towards her and Elizabeth.
"Commodore, Governor, Peggy." He nodded at each of them in turn, though he spared Peggy a slightly warmer smile than the other two even as he turned his attention towards Elizabeth.
Peggy forced herself to look away, unable to bear witness to the tender longing in his eyes as he turned all his attention to his beloved Elizabeth.
"Elizabeth, I should have told you every day from the moment I met you. I love you."
By all the sea gods, why did I have to be here to hear this?
It took all of Peggy's might to resist the urge to double over and sob as the final word of the romantic declaration left the blacksmith's mouth. It was as if a shard of burning ice had been stabbed into her chest and had been twisted for good measure.
She could hardly bear to look at Will as he turned his back to venture back into the crowd, fresh tears falling down her cheeks though their source now came from a very different kind of grief altogether.
So, in the end, it didn't mean anything, huh? All those fancy words calling me dear and precious… were just empty. Peggy thought bitterly about the warm affection she usually held towards the blacksmith, curdling and broiling into something ugly and tar-like in her heart.
She felt like such a fool. Even though she knew how he thought about Elizabeth, somewhere in her stupid, stupid heart, a small, tiny part of her had dared to hope…
You're such a fool, Peggy Blake. What did you expect? One whirlwind adventure across the high seas would magically change how he sees you. If anything, it's probably cemented what he thinks of you. After all, why would he want a wild and feral selkie pirate when he could have Little Miss Perfect beside you?
She knew it was childish. She had known his true feelings for a while and had decided long ago to respect them. As a pirate who valued freedom and choices, she was not going to try to force the people she cared about into choosing something they did not want.
But still…would it hurt to be someone's first choice for once?!
Just focus on Jack. That's what you came here for. For him. She gulped down hard as she stared at the Pirate, who even now was watching her from the gallows, his face unusually sombre as the noose was tied around his neck. The glare he spared for Will's hatted head was not lost on her though it was quick to turn to confusion as the blue and gold parrot flapped away noisily up into the air as the drumroll became faster and louder.
"Whatcha doin' mate?!"
"Oi watch yourself!"
Peggy found her eyes drawn to Will's hat as it began pushing through the crowd at a much faster pace. She could tell from here that his plan was in motion. There would be no stopping him now, not even if she tried.
Norrington also seemed to have picked up on the fact, his mouth opening to bark an order.
The things I do for you, Will Turner. Peggy shut her eyes, silently cursing the blacksmith in her head as she let her body go lax and let out a shuddering gasp.
"Peggy!" Elizabeth cried out as the young redhead almost fell on top of her. The two of them would have fallen in a heap onto the floor had Norrington and Governor Swann not balked forward to help them.
"Miss Blake! Oh dear!" Governor Swann tutted, and Peggy did all she could not to smirk as she was gently lowered to the floor.
"Peggy! Peggy, are you alright?! Can you hear me? Oh no, I knew this would be too much for her." Elizabeth fretted as she tried fanning Peggy's face with her lace fan.
So distracted by her collapse were they that they did not notice the commotion taking place behind them as the executioner reached for the lever.
As the man's large hand began to push at the wooden device, many men and women screamed in fright as Will brandished one of his swords and shouted at them to move aside.
There was a thud of metal hitting wood, the familiar sound of rope pulling taut and a loud, shocked gasp from the crowd.
Peggy shot up to a sitting position with a gasp, not caring for the act.
No, it couldn't be. Will could not have missed, could he?!
She could have almost wept with relief as she caught sight of Jack hanging by his neck, the lower half of his body below the trapdoor, while the top half struggled to stay balanced as Will leapt to the platform and began fighting the executioner.
"Peggy what? Oh my goodness!" Elizabeth stared at her in shock as the Governor pinched his nose in dismay.
"Miss Blake, how could you-"
"Quite easily, Gov," Peggy smirked as she leapt to her feet and dashed out of reach of Norrington, who had lurched to grab her and only fell flat on his face. "Commodore, always a pleasure."
She winked at the man on the ground, enjoying the way his nostrils flared with barely suppressed rage.
She supposed she should have felt bad for him, especially after he had tried his best to comfort her, but still, he was a Navy officer, and she was a pirate. What else did he expect from her? If he wanted a damsel to weep all over him, he had a fiancé ready to fill that role.
"Sorry, love, I need to borrow that for a moment! Thank you!" Peggy grunted as she took a stunned lieutenant's sword from his belt and tossed him into the path of Norrington and his officers, who ran after her in hot pursuit into the crowd of civilians.
All the commoners were so confused by the exciting events that they did not know whether to part for the officers or stop them in their tracks.
They certainly did not stop Peggy from reaching the executioner's block just in time to see Will be disarmed by the massive man with his axe.
Peggy gulped as she looked the hooded man up and down, feeling a little guilty as she met a pair of dark eyes beneath the leather hooded cap. His name was Basil Warren, and despite his morbid occupation and ferocious appearance, he was a pretty friendly and lovely man who enjoyed a hot cup of tea and a good story by the fire. He looked very shocked to see her standing before him with a sword drawn in his face.
"Oy, what are you doin' lass?!"
"Sorry, Basil. Nothing personal, but I can't let you do this. Not to him." she spared him one apologetic shrug as she lunged to slice the rope above Jack's head.
"Bas-gugh!" Jack's yelp turned into a gurgling half-choke as he fell entirely through the trapdoor, Peggy dropping herself quickly behind him as Will got to his feet again.
"I knew ye hadn't given up on me." Jack grinned as Peggy pulled him up to his feet and sliced his bonds apart.
"Pirate!" she shrugged, earning herself a grin and a fond hair ruffle cut short as something heavy fell above their heads and into the crowd before the gallows.
It was poor Basil. Will had tossed him down from the scaffolding and right on top of Norrington and his men.
"Poor Basil." Peggy shook her head as she and Jack ducked out from the back of the gallows, and Will leapt over the side to join them.
"Poor Basil? He kills people for a livin!" Jack rolled his eyes at her as he took the noose from around his neck and tossed the cut end towards Peggy, who ran with it to clothesline three officers charging towards them with muskets raised. Behind them, they could hear swords clanging as Will fought off officers daring to aim their swords at their backs.
"It's just his day job!" Peggy grunted the last word as she ducked to avoid someone lunging to grab her. They managed to snag her black ribbon, causing her braid to come loose into a flurry of copper curls, much to her annoyance. Why couldn't she ever have a neat head of hair for a day? Just once!
Upon seeing her hair flying in the wind, Will came to her aid and pushed the man away from her before he could grab at her hair harshly and hurt her.
"Quick to the edge!" Peggy felt her heart clench tight in her chest as she felt Will's firm hand against her back, urging her forward and out of the way of danger.
Gods, why couldn't he have been a callous, two-faced snake? Why did he have to care about her? It was like rubbing salt water into an already open wound.
There was a groan as Peggy, Will, and Jack used the rope to clothesline two officers against a pillar before they were forced to let go as attackers came in from all sides.
With surprising grace and coordination, the three of them leapt into a synchronised forward roll side by side, Peggy and Will drawing their swords smoothly from their belts even as they rolled up to stand and face the circle of red-coated officers pressing in on all sides.
"Behind me, lass!" Jack hissed, pushing Peggy behind him so she was sandwiched protectively between his and Will's backs as they all turned around, looking for an opening. But to Peggy's growing dismay, the circle of muskets and legs were too tight to escape or dive through even for her.
There was the jingle of metal against metal as she and Will's swords grazed the tips of the muskets one last time, only to stop as Will turned to find the tip of Commodore Norrington's blade pointing straight between Peggy's eyes.
With a snarl, Will stepped between the Commodore and Peggy, who sneezed as the feather in the blacksmith's hat tickled her nose.
To think the blade he had made would be pointed at one of the very people he had vowed it would protect. It almost made him sick just thinking about it.
"I thought we might have to endure some manner of ill-conceived escape attempt. But not by the two of you." Norrington said coldly, glaring daggers at Peggy, who returned the expression with interest just as Governor Swann came panting up behind the Commodore, Elizabeth hot on his heels.
"On our return to Port Royal, I granted the two of you clemency. And this is how you thank me? By throwing in your luck with him? He's a pirate."
"And a good man!" Will cut across the Governor, firmly standing his ground as he dropped his sword. "If all I've achieved here is that the hangman will own two pairs of boots instead of one, so be it. At least my conscience will be clear."
"Make that three pairs of boots." Peggy stepped to Will's side, her head held high despite Will and Jack trying to push her back. "No, don't stop me. I'm not afraid to face the music."
"I should not be surprised, Miss Blake. I should have known better than to doubt your loyalty to Sparrow. I suppose pirates must stick together." Norrington shook his head with disappointment at her. "And to think I thought you a woman of quality like Miss Swann."
"Don't you dare speak to her like that!" Will spat, and though he had no sword, Jack could see the blacksmith's fists clenched tight, ready to punch as his brown eyes gleamed with cold fury. "Peggy has more quality in her little toe than you or any of your men put together!"
"You forget your place, Turner." Norrington's lip curled as he turned his ire again upon Will, who sneered quietly at him.
"It's right here, between you, Jack and Peggy."
"…as is mine."
Peggy gaped as Elizabeth quickly put herself between Will and Norrington in a rush of yellow and cream silk, much to the surprise of everyone present, even Jack.
"Elizabeth!" Governor Swann gasped, his eyes wide with worry for his daughter's position. "For goodness sake, men, put your weapons down!" he commanded with a shaking voice, and at once, the officers all lowered their guns.
But worst of all was Norrington's face.
For one shining moment, the mask of professional disdain had slipped. He looked crushed. It was as if he had been forced to watch the entire world he loved burn to ruin before his eyes, which were close to tearing up as his bottom lip quivered for just a moment.
Despite the rivalry expected between the pirate and the officer, Peggy did feel for the man. For she, too, shared in his pain and grief.
Ironically, the people responsible for their shared heartbreak stood right between them, united and infatuated with one another.
"S-So this is where your heart truly lies then?" Norrington's voice wavered ever so slightly, though he was able to keep his composure even as Elizabeth delivered the final blow with a slight nod of her head.
"It is."
Life is cruel.
Peggy met Norrington's eye, and his glower seemed to soften for a moment as he registered the grief in her gaze. However, his wounded pride would not let him look at her for too long.
"Well!" Jack's exclamation almost jolted Peggy out of her skin as he leapt out from behind her and towards the set of steps that led to the top of the wall of the Fort that overlooked the cliff and seas below. "I'm actually feelin' rather good about this. I think we've all arrived at a very special place, ey?" he added, pushing in close to breathe into the Governor's face so that his foul breath hit him squarely in the nose, making the man cringe.
"Spiritually. Ecumenically…Grammatically?"
"Grammatically?" Will turned to Peggy, who shrugged. Who knew what thought train Jack was on this time?
Peggy was confused when he got up close and personal with the Commodore and muttered, "I want you to know that I was rooting for you, mate. Know that, hmm?"
I see. He was just being his bewildering self as usual. Peggy felt herself smile despite her heavy heart as she spotted the blue and gold parrot flying overhead and a strange thought wafted across her brain even as Jack turned to address Elizabeth with an apologetic sigh.
"Elizabeth…it would never have worked out between us, love; I'm sorry. And Will…" Jack paused as he tried to think of something nice to say to the Blacksmith. However, Peggy could see the irritation brewing in his eyes even as he sarcastically quipped, "Nice hat."
There was a pause as everyone's eyes turned towards Peggy, whom Jack took by the hand with a gentility he had not even shown Elizabeth.
"Remember what I said, love."
"I will." Peggy smiled a real one that almost hurt her cheeks from how wide it was. "In fact, I'm going to start right now."
And with that, she bent down and removed her shoes from her feet, leaving them bare.
"Got room for one more?" She grinned at Jack, whose eyes widened in surprise as the biggest grin she had ever seen spread across his face.
"For you Pegsy, always." he winked at Peggy, derisively pleased when he saw the near-horrified look on Will's face.
"Peg? What are you-"
"What does it look like I'm doing Will?" Peggy smirked back at the blacksmith as she followed Jack up the steps to the edge of the fort, a sparkle in her eyes that he had not seen in days since before Elizabeth was kidnapped. "I'm going with Jack. I…As much as I love our home, I am a pirate…a child of the ocean. The sea is where I belong."
Will opened his mouth to speak but found his heart caught in his throat.
She was…leaving? After all they had been through together, was she leaving him behind?
"You really sure this is what you want?" he coughed, cursing himself as his voice came out strangely hoarse and croaked. "Is this what you truly want, Peg? It'll be dangerous out there-"
"It's always dangerous out there, Will. That's part of the fun." Peggy smirked, but he could see her heart was not in the jibe. In her eyes, he could see her share the pain of parting. "But yes…this is what I truly want."
"Truly?"
"Truly."
It took all Will had not to run up those stairs and drag her back down with him. But he knew it would be of no use. She had that stubborn glint in her eye. He'd never be able to stop her unless he knocked her out and dragged her back home. And honestly, he was so tempted.
He wished she didn't have to go.
The feeling was so powerful it almost took him by surprise.
He had a feeling she might leave him like this ever since that day he had freed Jack, but with how loyally she had stuck by his side, he had been able to shrug such thoughts off as pure fantasy. After all, they were Peggy and Will. They had been side by side for ten years. He had not been lying when he said she was one of the most precious people in his life. Apart from Elizabeth, Will had no one else but her.
He never dreamed she might leave him like this or so soon after returning home. Not when he had finally started breaking down those last few walls and seeing her for who she was. He could almost understand why men would want to steal a selkie's pelt.
But no, he could not think like that! If he did that, then he'd be no better than that awful father of hers.
He'd much rather suffer watching her leave him for good than be another source of pain for her. He'd never forgive himself if he hurt her like that.
"If this is what you want, Peg…then I won't stop you." He gulped down hard on the lump in his throat as he looked at Jack.
The pirate was sparing him a very odd expression, almost as if he were trying to stare straight through his soul.
"Look after her, Jack." Will nodded at the man. "Look after her or die trying." Or else. The last two words, while unspoken, hung heavy in the air, and Jack grinned.
Silly whelp, did he think he scared Jack?
"You have my word, mate." And I'll do it better than you, he added in his head, though Will could tell what he meant to say from the derisive twinkle in his eye as he mockingly bowed and gestured to Peggy. "Ladies, first love!"
For once, Will did not care about his rivalry with the pirate. His eyes were focused only on Peggy as she stood at the bluff's edge. With careful hands, she raised the skirt of her blue dress around her bare feet as she stepped to the edge, looking more like she would take a dip into a tidepool rather than jump off the edge of a cliff.
His breath caught in his chest as he watched the sun set behind her head of billowing copper curls, the light casting a golden halo around her head and making the fiery highlights shimmer like strands of gold as strong gusts swept over the ocean, carrying her familiar scent of soap and spice back to his nose. But what stumped him most was her smile.
He had never seen her look so free…so at peace, so…happy…not once in his ten years of knowing her had he ever seen such a smile grace her face or her eyes sparkle like stars in the twilight sky. It made her almost glow from within, even as the sad tune passed through her lips as she sang so softly it was nearly lost on the sea breeze:
"Ma sweet love, wi' eyes sae clear, I long tae haud ye near. But ye've gone back tae the sea, n' left me wae an' drear."
She raised a foot to step over the edge.
"Goodbye, William." She whispered.
"PEG!" Will called, his cry echoed by many men and officers around him, but it was already too late. In a flash of copper and blue, she vanished over the edge and out of sight.
The woman in the shack sighed as she scried the bowl of seawater, her fingers gripping a conch shell pendant around her neck from where the voice had issued.
The woman in the shack had not heard the owner of the voice in the shell pray this much since she was a child.
Something was wrong. The shell in the woman's hand had dimmed in its magical glow while her other hand dipped into the seawater in the bowl.
The woman in the shack gasped as an onslaught of emotions hit her so hard that she almost jolted back in her chair.
Such despair, such desperation, such guilt, such love.
The woman shook her head sadly, tears of pity welling in her dark eyes.
It was always sad to see a child of the ocean's heart break.
"Man overboard! MAKE THAT TWO!" Joshamee Gibbs bellowed as two figures swam towards the Black Pearl.
"Come on, Pegsy! Hurry up! I thought you selkies were strong swimmers!" Jack groaned as he grabbed a rope from his beloved ship.
"I'm trying." Peggy panted as she desperately scrambled and splashed towards the second rope that had landed a few feet away from her in the water with a heavy splat "My legs…they're fusing, the bones-"
"What you're transforming? Now? You've barely been takin' a dip for what? Five minutes?" Jack's eyebrows rose, and she nodded with a wince of pain.
"Less talk. Need ship!" she gasped as she desperately scrambled up the length of the rope, grateful when Jack shouted at the crew above who hauled her up on the deck with a loud shout to heave.
"Aghhh!" she winced as she was bodily hauled high into the air and landed with a thud onto the black wooden deck.
The sound of her landing on the poop deck was almost loud enough to mask the cracking of her legs as her seal tail split apart back into legs beneath her skirts which thankfully hid the horrible twisting and reformation of her limbs from view.
"Welcome back, Miss Blake!" Gibbs called as he and Cotton rushed towards her.
"Good to be back, Mister Gibbs. Thanks, Cotton." She sighed in gratitude as Cotton quickly wrapped a large blanket around her shoulders with a kindly smile.
"How them legs of yers feelin? Human enough to walk yet?" Gibbs quirked a brow down at her ankles even as the webbing between them slid away to reveal regular pale toes.
"In a second or two," Peggy nodded, feeling her patella snap into place. I just need my knees to remember which way to bend."
"Aye, I don't doubt it." Gibbs winced as Annamaria's voice gave the order to haul Jack aboard deck. "And what about that Turner Lad? Thought he'd be right behind ye?"
"William…" Peggy sucked in a deep shuddering breath to steel herself, thankful that her wet state hid most of her shivering. "He's not coming. He's chosen to stay behind." With her.
She looked away to the bluff in the distance, where she could see silhouetted against the sky, two figures entwined in a close embrace.
Gibbs followed her gaze, as did many others, his shoulders sagging sadly as he looked back and saw the sorrow in her grey-blue eyes.
"I'm so sorry, lass." He muttered, and to Peggy's surprise, many of the men spared her looks of sympathy, and Marty even gave her a conciliatory pat on the back.
"Sqwaaak! Son of a biscuit eater! Sqwaaak! Get 'er a clap o' thunder!" Paulie the parrot squawked from where he was perched on Cotton's shoulder.
"Y'know, a drink does not sound half bad." Peggy chuckled only to wince as Jack landed a few feet behind her with a loud thud. "By Poseidon!"
"Aghhh! That was not as smooth as I expected," Jack complained loudly as he sat up and nursed his smarting behind. "I thought you were supposed to keep to the code, ey?" he quirked an eyebrow at Gibbs, who grinned smugly as he held out a hand.
"We figured they were more actual guidelines." He jerked his head at Cotton, who quickly thrust something dark into Jack's hands.
It was his tricorn hat.
"Thank you." Jack smiled gratefully at the man as he put the hat atop his head.
Now that Jack thought about it, he had left it on the Pearl, hadn't he, along with his-
"Captain Sparrow," Annamaria's voice was surprisingly gentle as she left the helm wheel and approached her Captain, who flinched in readiness for a punch. Instead, his shoulders relaxed in surprise as his long dark coat was draped around his shoulders with tender care. "The Black Pearl is yours."
Peggy watched, her lips quirking into a fond smile as Jack cautiously stepped towards the wheel, caressing the carved wood lovingly as if touching a long-lost lover after years apart.
Then suddenly, he paused, eyes widening as he seemed to remember where he was and who was around him.
"On deck, you scabrous dogs!" he suddenly barked, and Peggy laughed as half the crew scarpered off back to their posts like spooked sheep. "Hands to braces! Let go and haul to run free! Oy, what are you laughing at, Pegs?"
"Nothing, Jack, I mean Captain." She corrected herself quickly, her smile softening as Jack's eyes widened in surprise.
"About time you started callin' me that." He muttered, though inwardly he winced at the redness in her eyes even as she made to stand beside him.
"You alright, love?" He muttered quietly so no one else could hear.
Peggy shook her head silently, folding her eyes and pursing her lips as she willed herself not to cry or turn her head back around to look up at the bluff.
Good Lord, how much had that stupid whelp made her cry? It almost tempted him to turn his sail back to land and give that lad the proper hiding he deserved.
Instead, he settled for stroking a ringed hand gently through her curls.
"No…I don't suppose you are." he patted the top of her head, remembering with almost bittersweet fondness that she used to be a lot shorter when he used to do that years ago. "But you will be. Just wait a few weeks at sea, and you'll be back to biting off my head in no time."
"I hope so," Peggy whispered.
"You will so. I know it." Jack patted her cheek and gave it a small but affectionate pinch even as he called out harshly to the deck. "Oy ANNA! Get this one some better clothes will ye! Can't have my Cabin Girl trippin' over her skirts. No matter how fetchin' her arse might be in them." he added and was pleased when Peggy swatted the back of his head as she left his side to join her fellow woman on the lower deck.
Good, at least Anna will keep her from getting too mopey in her head. Jack watched as the older smuggler wrapped a consoling and sisterly arm around Peggy's shoulders. She steered her below deck, turning her face away from the land she had left behind.
Jack felt his smile return as soon as they were safely out of sight.
As sad as some of today's events might have been, it had been most rewarding.
He had his ship, a faithful crew, and his loyal cabin girl back by his side. His galley was stocked full of rum, waiting to be cracked open tonight to celebrate his return. He was finally free to sail the open seas without Barbossa and cursed pirates chasing him down.
"Now…bring me that horizon. Da-da-da-dum da-da-da-duhh!" He hummed, his head swaying lightly as he remembered the tune escaping a pouty pair of lips. It was a shame their owner had to choose that feckless lout. But that was her loss.
"An' really bad eggs..."
Jack flicked out his compass from his sash and looked at the dial, his hands automatically steering the wheel without barely consulting his brain.
"Drink up, me hearties yo-ho!"
"Are you sure you do not want a ride, William? I am sure Father would not mind another guest at dinner."
"I'm sure Elizabeth. It is a kind offer, but I do not think pushing your father's kindness any more than I have today is wise. Besides, I…I have a lot to think about."
"Of course. It has been a very…hectic day. But please rest well, and I hope to see you tomorrow."
"I will. Thank you, Elizabeth."
William Turner sighed as he watched the expensive horse-drawn carriage disappear with many a rattle and a bumble down a corner in the village road.
The Pearl will be safely out of reach before the moon rises. Will noted almost bitterly as he turned the key to the lock and entered his home.
His home, singular. His to share with Mister Brown…that sour, profligate old drunkard he could hear snoring away loudly downstairs in the forge below.
Will's breath caught painfully in his chest as he ascended the steps into his dwelling's living space. It usually felt small and stifling, like an oven or the cosy inside of a forge.
But now…now it felt so cold…so lifeless…
So empty.
Which was strange because all of Peggy's stuff was still there. There was the brown-knitted woollen shawl she had left draped over her usual chair by the dining table. There were her cooking utensils hanging above the hearth. There was the open door to her room, revealing a cleanly made bed with a small stack of pilfered books on the small rickety bedside table that served as a desk sometimes and a laundry basket full and ready to be taken up to the fort to mix in with the officers washing.
Everything she owned, from trinkets to her clothes, even her keys for the lockbox… was all here waiting…waiting for her.
Will held the shawl on her chair close to him, savouring the smell of soap and spice that clung to it even as he sank into her usual spot. She always liked to sit here because it warmed her back against the fire and gave her a nice view of the window while she darned socks or did the accounts.
He could see out the window as the sun descended below the horizon. It was a deep, red sunset…almost the colour of blood.
"A sailor's delight," he muttered, shutting his eyes as he remembered her amused and smugly quirked brow.
"Don't say I didn't warn you."
"Stop it, stop it!" He groaned, running a hand through his dark locks and cursing himself as he remembered when Peggy would drag him to the sink to wash his hair, or she'd ruffle his hair to tease him, or stroke her fingers through it when he was sick-
No! Don't think about that! This is a good day. You did good things! Everyone's happy! Everyone's where they should be.
Yes. Everything had gone right, hadn't it?
Elizabeth, the woman he loved, had returned his feelings at long last. He freed Jack from jail, giving him the Pearl he had so long struggled for. And Peggy…Peggy was out there on the ocean like a selkie should be, free and happy to live on her terms, unrestricted by civilised life.
By all means, this should have been the happiest day of his life.
And yet…
And yet…
Somehow, it also wasn't.
He buried his face into his hands as a soft song filled his head:
Ma sweet love, wi' eyes sae clear,
I long tae haud ye near,
But ye've gone back tae the sea,
An' left me wae an' drear.
"What did you just say?"
There was silence in the opulent but tastefully decorated office of the HMS Endeavour as the sinister-faced man in the dark blue-black long coat and scar over his left cheek looked up from the scroll in his hands. His feet shifted uncomfortably on the ornate Persian rug beneath his shiny, buckled shoes.
Before him, seated at an antique wooden desk of magnificent craftsmanship, a shorter man with a white powdered wig and a long dark brown coat sat with a cup of tea and a saucer in his hands. His grey-blue eyes were sharp like daggers as they stared at the scarred-faced man before him.
"I said…" The man with the scar repeated slowly as he consulted the scroll before him again. "That our associate in Tortuga has been made aware of some strange rumours regarding the appearance of a Selkie in the Caribbean once more. And not the travellers from Scotland, my Lord, but a real Caribbean Selkie with a brown pelt much like the others we recorded during the purge."
"That is impossible." The lord in the chair's voice was deathly quiet, but the edge in his voice was almost enough to unsettle the scarred-faced man himself. "The last selkie of the Caribbean died thirteen years ago. I saw her die myself." He added almost in a whisper, his eyes misting over for a split second as he looked down
"As did I, sir. I remember the day most sadly." The scarred-faced man answered carefully, wary of waking a tiger from its slumber. However, the selkie our associate heard about appears to be quite young—a couple of decades old, according to his source.
"And who is the source of such details? Do we have a name?"
"Yes sir, a mister Twigg, or so he calls himself. Our associate says he was once a member of the crew of the infamous Black Pearl."
"The Black Pearl?" the man in the seat asked, his eyebrows rising with intrigue. "I see. Now, there is a name I have not heard for a very long time. And did this, Mister Twigg, give any more details regarding this elusive selkie that has escaped our notice for so many years?"
"Oh, according to our lad, he sang like a canary to anyone who'd listen once he had a couple of pints in him." the scarred man smirked as he read further down the scroll. "According to the report, the 'selkie witch', as Mister Twigg put it, had the long red curls of the devil himself and cold grey eyes."
"Red curls…" The lord in the seat's eyes were almost as wide as the saucer in his hand as his teacup paused mid-air. "Copper-red curls?"
"I do not know, sir. Our Associate was not clear on that particular detail." The scarred man mused as he carefully scrolled down to the bottom of the paragraph. "But we do have a name for the lady it's…oh…"
Now it was the scarred man's turn for his eyes to widen in shock.
"Mister Mercer?" the man in the chair clipped sharply, and Mister Mercer gulped.
"I think you better see it for yourself, my lord." He held out the scroll for his lordship to take, hoping against hope that even he had not read the line correctly.
"No…no, it cannot be…" The lord looked up from the page, his already pale face blanching so that he looked almost sick in the dim light of the candles on the desk. When his eyes turned back on Mister Mercer, they were cold but alive with a nearly feverish light.
"What date did our associate send this report to us?"
"A week ago, my Lord. Mister Sloane has always been very prompt concerning important matters like these."
"Given his background, I am not surprised." The Lord smirked as he leaned back in his chair. "Send him new orders. Tell him to round up Mister Twigg and any other men from the Black Pearl who have knowledge of this so-called selkie and have them shipped to our offices in Kingshead."
"You wish to interrogate them personally, sir?"
"Of course. Once our inspection of Oxbay is completed." The lord's grey eyes flickered like silver in the night as he waved his man off dismissively. "This so-called selkie has waited patiently for twenty years. I'm sure she can await our arrival a little longer."
"Right you are sir." Mister Mercer nodded briskly, clicking his heels together smartly as he promptly exited the room, barely hiding a shudder as he felt his boss's sharp gaze on his back.
As soon as the door was shut, the lord stood up from his chair, setting down the parchment scroll on his desk as he strode around it to a far-off wall of the ship's office.
There, mounted against a board within a massive decorative picture frame, was a seal pelt. Half the pelt, visible in the dim light, was brown with a cream-coloured underbelly, soft as the lord caressed his fingers almost lovingly through the fibres and hummed under his breath.
I stole yer skin, as men will dae,
Hid it far, tae mak' ye stay,
Wi'oot yer coat, ye were ma bride,
But yer heart aye sought the tide.
Ma sweet love, wi' eyes sae clear,
I long tae haud ye near,
But ye've gone back tae the sea,
An' left me wae an' drear.
It was an old ditty, and its common phrasing sounded strange in his posh voice. It was a song he barely sang anymore, if only because it brought back scars almost too deep for even his hardened heart to bear.
Yet now…now his heart stirred as he stared back at the scroll half furled on his desk.
If the contents were to be believed, then maybe, just maybe…there was some hope left…though even he dared not jump to conclusions yet. He had spent too many years chasing stories and fairytales to bring back what was once lost, and they had all let him down.
But maybe…just maybe…this might be what he was waiting for all along.
"Even after all these years, you still find ways to haunt me, my love."
Notes:
Dun-dun-DUUUUN! And there we have it. The end of POTC 1 - Curse of the Black Pearl. Don't worry. I will be updating to THIS story, not making a separate one. I want to keep it all neat and together.
NOW, ONTO THE DEAD MAN'S CHEST! WOOO! Do you know what that means, folks? That right! Time to break out the dramatic over large sea organ and play sad sea shanties on an undead pirate ship!
Ahem! Sorry, I'm just excited. DMC is my favourite film of the trilogy, if only for the world-building and Davy Freaking Jones!
So yeah, apologies if there is a little OOC on some characters like Will and Jack, but given that affairs of the heart are involved, I think it can be forgiven.
Jack thought he was going to die and wanted to leave Peggy with something good to remember him by after all they had been through together, and Will...Well, he's just discovered that he can't have his cake and eat it too, so he's going to have to figure his crap out for himself. Also, I did not have the strength to write about poor Peggy, just sitting by and watching Will selfishly marry another woman while she wasted away in a corner and played housekeeper. I could not do that. I just couldn't.
Anyway, this was a loaded chapter of whump/hurt/comfort because many big decisions were made here that will play a big role moving forward.
If you'd like to keep reading to find out more, please fave, follow, review, and leave any constructive feedback for anything you'd like to see moving forward.
Thanks
FuzzyBeta
Chapter 14: A Pirate's Life For Me
Summary:
"Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me. We pillage, we plunder, we rifle, and loot. Drink up me hearties, yo ho! We kidnap and ravage and don't give a hoot. Drink up me hearties, yo ho!"
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Clang-clang!
Kashiiing!
Clang-clang-clang!
"Oy! Watch it!"
Joshamee Gibbs grinned as he looked over the railing of the quarter deck and onto the main deck below, where two people were duelling.
One was a man with long dreadlocks held back by a red bandanna. He wore a white shirt, blue vest, and pants, and a red and white sash around his waist, held tight by many belts. The man's dark bearded face was split in a massive smirk, and his brown eyes twinkled with amused fondness as he disarmed the young woman before him and picked up her fallen sword for her to take again.
She was only a little shorter than the man, with long copper red curls tied in a long, messy fishtail braid while the top of her head was covered by a cerulean bandanna paired with a matching-coloured sash she had tied around her waist. She wore dark brown men's pants and boots and had a white man's shirt with sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Around her right wrist, she wore a leather cuff bracelet adorned with tiny beads of coloured glass and pendants made from bones and minuscule sea shells. Around her waist, over her sash, were fastened a pair of thick leather belts, one equipped with a gun holster in which a small flintlock pistol was safely stowed.
A pair of grey-blue eyes glowered up at the man that had disarmed her, one hand holding up a severed tie that had once kept the front of her shirt closed but now exposed her ample freckled cleavage.
"Seriously, Jack?! This is my favourite shirt!" Peggy Blake snapped as she looked down at her exposed chest, over which an oval-shaped silver and abalone shell locket hung from a silver chain around her neck.
Even from where Gibbs stood high alongside Marty and Cotton, he could see the spark in Jack Sparrow's eyes as he kicked his protégé's sword back to her across the deck.
"Sorry, love, but you need to work on your defence. Now, come on! Try that move again! Who knows, maybe your lovely breasts might distract me enough for you to land another hit!"
"If my cleavage is enough to distract you from a fight, then you really must be losing your touch." Peggy rolled her eyes as the crew chuckled at her expense.
However, the laughter was not cruel or malicious. Indeed, the eyes that tracked the pair in their sparring session across the deck were just as fond as Gibbs's.
"Come on, pay up!" the old sailor held out his palm to the short form of Marty, seated up on the rails and cleaning his grubby nails with the tip of a small knife.
"She's still too hesitant," Marty grumbled as he paused to fish in his pocket for a shilling and slop it into Gibbs's hand with a bitter scowl. "If she wants to land the hit, she shouldn't hold back."
Cotton silently grimaced in disagreement as his parrot Paulie squawked loudly from his shoulder:
"Dead man, tell no tales!"
"Cotton's right, Marty," Gibbs took a swig from his leather hipflask of rum. "You've seen the girl throw a punch. Even if she can't beat Jack, I'd hate to be on the end of her sword."
"I doubt that'll ever happen," Marty muttered quietly, sheathing his knife in his belt. "The girl's many things' Gibbs, a killer ain't one of them."
There were many hums and nods of agreement from the men, and Gibbs sighed. Marty was right, of course. Neither Peggy nor Jack were violent people by nature despite their prowess for the sword. It made them rather odd amongst most pirates, who often prided themselves on their various kills and had a taste for blood.
Then again, Peggy had spent much of her life amongst more "civilised" people. Gibbs doubted that even the six and a half short months she had spent on the Pearl could completely wipe the innocence that remained.
Secretly, like his Captain, Gibbs wished she would never lose it. It was what made her a breath of fresh air amongst a sea of cutthroats and marauders. However, it left her vulnerable to other, more insidious threats.
Another clang of swords, a thud and another curse drew Gibbs's attention back to the duelling pair in time to see Peggy stumble and land hard on her behind to the ground.
"What's the matter with you, Pegsy?" Jack frowned at his protégé as he pointed at her with his sword. "You're all left feet today."
"No, I'm not!" Peggy pouted, cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
"Love, that's the fourth time in a row you've messed up yer footwork, even after I gave you a clear opening." Jack rolled his eyes. "You're not this clumsy even when you're three sheets to the wind!"
"Hmmph! I'm fine, Jack. I'm probably just havin' a bad day today, that's all. You know how it is." She shrugged, but everyone saw she was awkwardly avoiding Jack's eye. "Come on! One more round. I'm sure I'll get it right."
"Fine. One round. Then we're done for today."
"But Jack-"
"Nah love, ain't no point wavin' that sword around if yer head's not in the game. Besides, all this sparring has gotten me rather peckish, so finish this last round and get me lunch, will ye? There's a good lass."
"Fine. As you wish, Captain." Peggy spat out the title like an offensive slur, but to Jack's credit, he barely commented.
Most men would have assumed it was because he was trying to show off his maturity in front of the crew, but Gibbs knew it was mainly because the man was too busy trying to suss out what was bothering his young cabin girl so much.
Gibbs could not help but share in his concern. The girl was unusually off-kilter today. Yes, she could still beat most of the crew to their knees, but for her to mess up this much in her sparring sessions with the captain…something was troubling her badly.
Can't it be that Turner boy? Can it? Gibbs couldn't help but wonder, taking another swig of his rum flask to dull the simmering anger that welled in his gut from the mere thought of the lad.
The poor girl had been in a dismal state after being ditched by that foolish lad.
Sometimes, the crew caught her shedding a tear when she was alone in the galley prepping Jack's meals. She would always try to hide the evidence, but everyone knew. Some nights, Gibbs and Jack could have sworn they heard her crying herself to sleep. There had been a couple of months where the mere mention of "William" or "Elizabeth" would raise her hackles and shorten the fuse of her hot temper; however, in the last month, Peggy seemed to have reverted to sadness. Unlike before, it was more a bittersweet acceptance and resignation than hurt feelings, though those were still there.
The gall of that boy, Gibbs thought bitterly.
He had a beautiful, strong and loyal Selkie lass who had put her life and existence on the line for him, and then he went and broke her heart without even a second thought.
Now Gibbs knew that Elizabeth was a fine young lady in her own right. After all, it took her guts to survive Barbossa's kidnapping and save the crew of the Black Pearl from the brig on her own without any backup.
But apart from the difference in social status, what did Elizabeth have that Peggy did not share in equal measure? Both were beautiful, smart and capable young women.
Well, whatever his choice was, Gibbs could not help but be disappointed in William Turner. One had to be a certain level of stupid or blind (or perhaps both) not to have been able to see how much Peggy had loved him.
Even Jack had developed a resentment against the lad, to the point that even mentioning his name in passing soured his mood, and that was saying something as Jack rarely held grudges despite his double-crossing, tricky nature. Then again, hurting Peggy was a surefire way to get a black mark on your record with Jack, and Will Turner had screwed the pooch big time on that one.
As expected, it did not take long for the sparring match to end. Peggy's mind was too distracted to keep to her target, and Jack was bored of winning.
And so, with a grimace, Gibbs watched the young selkie stomp below deck and out of sight, much to the dismay of several crew members who had placed bets in her favour.
"Bloody Jack! Cutting training short just because I'm dropping the ball a bit!" Peggy growled as she thudded down the stairs toward Pearl's tiny kitchen, where two cooks were stationed. One was a middle-aged skinny man with an eyepatch over one eye stirring a pot of the hot midday meal, while the other, a portly man with a peg leg, peeled an apple for himself at a small table.
"Hey, lass. Lunch for ye and the Cap'in?!" the man at the stove called, and Peggy nodded.
"Yes, Dewey. Lunch for me and the Captain." Peggy grunted, then quickly coughed and added, "Thank you. Smells good."
"Aye, them fish ye rounded up this mornin' were just the ticket." Dewey smiled happily, and despite her sour mood, Peggy smiled and blushed at the praise as she helped the man assemble a tray with food for herself and Jack.
One of the perks of pirate life with Jack was that she no longer had to hide her selkie heritage, at least when they were out in the open ocean away from civilisation. Indeed, Peggy often swam out in seal form to help the sailors corral fresh fish like a herding dog into their nets. Occasionally, she snagged a couple of live ones in her mouth if she ever felt peckish, but she mostly enjoyed swimming in the water without a care. It was easy to forget about her earthly troubles when she saw the sparkling fish scales dancing past her eye or the sensation of the current smoothly gliding over her fur.
That morning had been an outstanding haul. Then again, the fishing grounds close to Tortuga had always been prosperous. Sailors used to say that the pirate port and the waters around it were abundant because the ocean was fond of her scallywags and rascals. Peggy did not know if the legend was true but had to admit that despite their lawless ways, most of the pirates of Tortuga were more respectful of the ocean than most civilised people she had met.
Tortuga.
Despite her love of the sea, Peggy was looking forward to a day of shore leave. The wild and lawless harbour of Tortuga had grown on her in the last few months, maybe because she knew she had limited time to see it.
She forced a smile of gratitude on her face for Dewey as she hauled herself and her laden food tray back up through the ship, doing her best to ignore the familiar, almost painful tingling in her right wrist.
A month and a half left. That was all she had. One and a half months left of freedom, of life, and then the Devil would come for her. Then Jack would know what a traitor she was.
Her heart ached at the thought.
As cowardly as it was, she was glad the Devil had ordered her not to speak to anyone about their deal. Even if she had the freedom to tell her captain, she did not think she would be able to, nor would she want to.
She had already disappointed William so much that she could not bear to think of Jack tossing her to the side, even if he would be well within his rights to.
Not even Jack could blame her if he knew her life was on the line. He would understand…wouldn't he?
Still…there was a small part of her that wished she could tell someone if only to get it off her chest for once.
"You're doin' it again, love." Jack's voice cut through her thoughts as she laid the food on his private dining table in his quarters.
"Hmm?"
"You're goin' far away in that head of yours again."
"Sorry, Jack. Just tired, I guess." Peggy sighed, cursing herself mentally. She had to stop getting lost in her thoughts so often. It was becoming a bad habit.
"Nah, love that ain't it. You ain't tired. If you were, you'd be far more cranky." Jack shook his head as he reached out to take the mug of ale from the tray and guzzle half it down in one gulp. "Such a far-off gaze. Where do you go off to, I wonder?"
"Many places." Peggy snorted. "Probably too many." She admitted softly as she sat beside him, though she kept her eyes on her food. "We're making good time on Tortuga?"
"Aye, we're making good time. Should be there just before sundown." Jack grunted through a mouthful of bread and stew.
"Do you have any plans for the evening, or are you just going to enjoy your usual time with one of ol' Lucinda's girls?" Peggy mumbled.
"Maybe if I've got the time." Jack took another swig of ale. "Labelle wants a word first. One of her – " Jack paused to belch softly " 'scuse me – one of her little birdies at that last port tol' me she will be waitin' at Twelve Daggers."
"That was over a week ago." Peggy frowned, curiosity winning over her mood. "Why has she stayed on land so long?"
"Dunno? But rumour has it the Painted Lady got into a scrap with the East India Trading Company. She was practically limping to port after the battle or so they say. May take a while till she's back out on the water."
Peggy whistled softly. The Painted Lady may not have been as fast as the Black Pearl, but she was mighty in battle, and her Captain, Jacqueline Labelle, was no pushover.
"That's the fifth heavy hitter the Company has gone after in the last two months." Peggy bristled in her spot. "And the third one that belongs to the Brethren Court. I know the Company has always been against piracy, but how they're cracking down…just who or what kicked the hornet nest?"
"Who knows love?" Jack grimaced as he shovelled some fish into his mouth. "But that's not why Labelle is callin' on us."
"So she found it then?" Peggy quirked a brow at her captain. "That information you asked her for last time…has she found it?"
"Again, who knows?" Jack shrugged. "She said she has somethin'. If that somethin' happens to be useful, we'll have to wait and see."
"Y'know you still haven't told me what we're searching for." Peggy pouted as she tore off a chunk of bread with her teeth. "I mean, we've been sailing around for an entire month and barely raided any ships or plundered any horde. The crew are starting to get suspicious."
"No mutterings of mutiny are there?" Jack chuckled, but Peggy could see how his ringed fingers flexed and clenched around his spoon.
"No. No mutiny." Peggy muttered. "Just a lot of griping and confusion. Still, it'd ease a lot of tension if you just told someone, even Gibbs, what we're sailin' around for. Then, at least, he can put the crew's mind at ease."
"Oh, you think I can't keep peace on my ship?" Jack rolled his eyes, and Peggy sighed.
"No, but if Gibbs gets worried, the crew tends to get worried. If he's calm and trusting you, the crew will follow suit. He's as good as a canary in the mine, and you'd be a fool not to use him to your advantage."
"Sings like a canary, too, with enough grog in 'im." Jack snorted, but Peggy was relieved that the man's shoulders had relaxed somewhat. "But no love, I can't tell Gibbs or you what I'm lookin' for."
"And why not?"
"Because…" Jack smacked his lips. "Because I dunno what I'm searching for in the first place."
"…what?" Peggy blinked.
"I mean, I have a rough idea of what I am looking for," Jack raised a placating hand to silence her before she could open her mouth. "But I don't know if it exists."
"And you don't want to get anyone's hopes up if you don't find proof of its existence?" Peggy frowned in bafflement. "So what? You're hoping Labelle can help you prove this mystery you're looking for exists?"
"Pretty much," Jack nodded briskly. "No point goin' after a treasure if it's not even real. Think of all the rum I'd waste in the search."
"Oh yes, think of the poor rum." Peggy deadpanned with a shake of the head. "So…if this thing does exist…how long do you think it will take to find it?"
"Dunno." Jack pursed his lips. "But not long, I don't think, if all goes well and according to plan." He paused to look his cabin girl up and down.
"What? Do I have some stew on my face?" Peggy frowned halfway through a mouthful of food.
Jack stared at her blankly, his brown eyes, usually full of joy, now shrewd. His gaze drifted over her braided curls, her face, and then down to her cuffed bracelet.
Then he suddenly shook his head.
"Nah! Nothin' love, just thinkin' is all. Oh yes, that's right. That little birdie also said to make sure ye cover up that hair o' yers before we meet Labelle."
"My hair? Why the hell do I have to cover MY hair? And what do you mean by when 'we' go to meet Labelle? She's your sister." Peggy grumbled in annoyance.
"So she says." Jack corrected her with a roll of his eyes. "God knows if she is one of my dad's kids. God knows many little bastards he's left runnin' around in his wake."
"Hark who's talking?" Peggy snorted, giggling into her bowl of stew as she earned herself a familiar but small cuff on the back of the head.
"Cheeky brat!" Jack muttered, though the minor upward quirk of his lips betrayed his amusement, "But jokes aside, love, yes. We are going to meet Labelle together. She asked for ye specifically. An' before you ask, no, I don't know why, but she said it 'twas important."
Rat-tat-tat!
"Come in!" Jack called, and the door to his quarters opened to reveal Gibbs holding a sheet of paper.
"Sorry, Captain, I just wanted a quick word while you've got a moment!"
"Sure thing mate, just gimme a second!" Jack nodded to his first mate as he stood up. Peggy then noticed that he had managed to finish most of his food. Good, she had been worried he had been skipping out on his meals.
"Keep an orange aside for me, love. I'll be back in a tick! 'n try not to get lost in yer head again. I need ye to keep a sharp eye aye?" Jack patted her on top of the head.
"Aye, captain." Peggy nodded as she shovelled another spoonful of fish stew into her mouth, wincing as she felt her right wrist tingle painfully beneath the cuff. She was so distracted she had not noticed her captain and the first mate's sympathetic gaze rest for a short pause on her hunched shoulders before they closed the doors.
Once she heard the door shut, she quietly undid the leather ties holding the cuff in place, looking down at the patch of skin it had hidden.
The black mark of the devil glared out at her. It was a black ring surrounded by small roots of ink that stained her blood vessels and irritated the skin around it, making it throb an angry red colour. The pain and prickling sensations had been getting steadily worse the closer her deadline approached, but Peggy did not know what else to do but cover it up.
Just a few weeks. She thought glumly.
A few weeks…and then her time was up.
The man watched from the shadows of an alleyway beside a dockside tavern as the black ship with black sails slid into its place at the dock. Its crew threw down thick ropes for the dockworkers to tie it to the correct mooring while others prepped the gangplank.
Finally, after weeks of waiting and near misses the Black Pearl had pulled into Tortuga.
The man had to admit, it was a sight to behold. Compared to the brightly coloured green and white hull of the Snapdragon moored at the neighbouring pier, the Black Pearl cut a surprisingly intimidating figure even for a pirate ship.
The entire vessel's wooden hull and mast were a dark, sooty black, and even the masts and rigging had been painted to match. The figurehead of a half-naked woman with a sea-raven was very distinctive and elegant, but her eyes were oddly haunting as if she were watching everyone who came under her gaze.
The man wished he could say the ship's crew was ferocious enough to match. A pair of light green eyes narrowed with disgust as the dreadlocked and bearded figure of Jack Sparrow sauntered jauntily down the gangplank and onto the pier, followed closely by a man with a greying mutton-chop beard. From the relaxed way the men spoke, it was clear the captain was only delivering orders to his first mate, which was hardly worth listening to.
No, the man had more important things to look for now.
A flash of blue hit his eyes, and the man's eyes swivelled back up Pearl's gangplank, where a slender figure garbed in a long dark brown coat was clambering down with the grace of a cat. Their hair was covered entirely in a cerulean-blue headscarf, but the man could see from the fact that the face was too round and soft-featured to be a man. That left two options: this was one of the tallest, most baby-faced lads he had ever seen, or more likely, it was a young woman of average height trying her best and failing to keep cover as a boy.
The latter was proven as she and Jack Sparrow began walking together side-by-side down the pier in the strange man's direction, and he caught a glimpse of her slender form beneath the jacket before she could fold her arms to hide it. No…there was no way any lad would have curves like that.
This must be her, then. Peggy Blake. The man in the shadows mused as the woman and Captain Sparrow passed his hiding spot, speaking softly to one another in hushed tones.
"The Twelve Daggers isn't Labelle's usual haunt. I thought she preferred Coopers." Peggy Blake grimaced as she gingerly sidestepped a pile of horse manure piled on the road.
"Must be recruitin' a new crew." Jack Sparrow grimaced in disgust at the smell of the filth behind them. "Coopers might be cosier, but the Daggers is a better huntin' ground if yer' lookin' for a sturdy crew. With the way they EITC blokes are prowlin' around, she's gonna need tougher men."
"From the looks of things, the Painted Lady isn't the only one that needs toughening up." Peggy pointed at a couple of the other ships docked alongside the Pearl. Several of them were in various states of disrepair, and one of them, a vessel with a dark navy-blue hull with white stripes, looked almost like it was falling apart at the seams and ready to sink right then and there.
"Blimey." Jack Sparrow whistled in awe at the damage. "I ain't seen the Bluebird that roughed up since Mad Bart was captain. Now, there was a crazy kook if ever I saw one."
"What happened?" Peggy asked curiously.
"Mad Bart nearly got caught in the Devil's Triangle chasin' some hallucination. The man drank so much that he often shot at things no one else could see, spoke to walls or went chasin' after treasures no one else had heard about because he thought he'd imagined them in his head. Honestly, it was probably a kindness that his First Mate shot him and took control before they crashed into the Triangle, or else he'd have dragged everyone to their deaths. He practically had rum and whisky flowin' through his veins by the end."
"Yikes. Poor bloke," Peggy grimaced sympathetically but then quickly shrugged. "Well, I guess there are worse reasons to commit murder, I suppose. Speaking of murder, I would kill for some food right now." She added in a grumble, and Jack chuckled.
"You said it love. God, I hope Anna's got some of 'em meat pies set aside 'cause I can kill for some beef!" Jack Sparrow groaned as he cricked his neck to the side. "I dunno how you survive off 'em raw fish all the time. Ain't it slimy?"
"It's not too bad once you get used to it. But yes, I know what you mean. A hot mince pie sounds good." Peggy Blake laughed.
The man in the shadow's eyebrows rose.
He had been expecting a rough, loud, coarse accent, much like the rest of the pirates and wenches of Tortuga. However, Peggy Blake's voice was a lot more melodious, smooth and genteel, almost as if she had been raised with a soft and elegant Southern English accent coloured with a little West Country twang she must have absorbed over the years from her rough surroundings.
The man in the shadows felt his heart skip a beat as he caught sight of a short stray curl of fiery red hair that had escaped her head wrappings to dangle by her freckled cheek.
There it was, just like his boss had said. Red curls as bright as copper, flames and freckles over her cheeks. Now that the man thought about it, she was rather pretty. With a nice dress and better grooming, she'd make a fine noblewoman's wife.
He quickly shrank back into the shadows as she turned to look in his direction. She felt his insides almost flip as he caught sight of her eyes. They were both light blue-grey and sharp as swords.
The man in the shadows had only ever seen one person with eyes like that.
Yes, this had to be her. With those eyes and that hair, there was no doubt in his mind about who this woman was.
The strange shadow smiled.
If everything went as planned tonight, his boss would be very pleased.
"By Poseidon, I swear I'll go deaf in here!"
"WHAT LOVE?"
"I SAID I'LL GO DEA-YOU KNOW WHAT BUGGER THIS. LET'S JUST FIND ANNA!"
The Twelve Daggers were one of the oldest establishments in the pirate port of Tortuga and perhaps one of the most dangerous, but Peggy knew that so long as she stuck close to Jack, no one would bother her.
And stick close to him, she would because tonight seemed to be incredibly violent and loud.
Peggy had never seen so many pirates packed into one space in all her years. She felt like a fish trying to squeeze through a shoal of tightly packed sardines.
She supposed that with all the battered ships in port, many pirates had piled into Tortuga to rest and recuperate. However, that also meant many establishments were nearly full to bursting with life. How Labelle expected to hold a private meeting here, of all places, was beyond Peggy's reckoning.
She was glad when she spotted Annamaria's face behind the bar, shouting at a patron trying to steal a drink from the counter without paying for it.
The ex-smuggler had left the crew of the Black Pearl two months ago after her grandmother passed away to help her older brother manage the bar while his wife was pregnant and so far seemed to be managing well. Despite her love for the water and sailing, Annamaria had always been a sharp businesswoman at heart. Peggy was impressed by her skill in running the rowdy and popular establishment. She did not take any crap from any of her patrons and had kept the quality of service high, what with the backroom deals she had made with certain brothels and local ship captains in the area.
She greeted Peggy with a firm and bracing hug as she and Jack wove through the crowd to greet her at the bar.
"Labelle is waiting for you in the dining room." She called over the hubbub, gesturing to one of her cousins to take over handling the bar as she stepped out from behind it. "This way!"
"I see business is booming," Peggy shouted as she and Jack were led to a nearby door off the main tavern floor and into a small corridor.
"You can thank the East India Company for that!" Anna spat as she shut the door behind them, so the shouts and music became much more muted. "I don't know what has crawled up their powdered knickers, but in the time you've been gone, they've been hammering down hard on everyone. My father says he hasn't seen them this active since the Selkie Purge years ago."
Peggy did her best to repress a shiver.
For the past few months, she had managed to keep her selkie heritage under wraps. Jack had made it clear to the crew that if anyone spilled the beans on her, they would get shot or cursed by her 'selkie' magic. So far, the threat seemed to have worked with the men, their fear of superstitions overpowering their usual love of gold and power. Still, there was always a chance someone might have spilled the beans on someone else; she just hoped that no one took their words seriously and thought it all was a joke.
"Any idea why they're so active?" Peggy wondered aloud, but Anna just shrugged.
"Honestly, it beats me. All I know is that they've got a new head honcho, and he does not like pirates."
"Since when have they ever?" Jack joked, but Peggy saw his grave eyes even as they were led towards a door to the right.
"She's in here. I'll send down some pies in half an hour with some rum."
"You're a real gem, love." Jack sighed in relief as he opened the door and stepped through.
"Thanks, Anna!" Peggy smiled and followed her captain inside.
The parlour of the Twelve Daggers was small but cozy. It had a few armchairs around a small wooden table and a large lit hearth that took up most of the wall and kept the place nice and toasty.
On one of the chairs facing the door, a woman lounged languidly. She was a very curvy and tall woman, taller than Jack even, and he was not a short man. That was without the addition of the feathered tricorn hat she had kept on a small side table.
She wore a black man's shirt with the front untied to reveal a buxom bosom, which was only accentuated by the brown leather corset fastened around her waist. Her long legs and round hips were garbed in well-fitted black pants, which were finished with a nice pair of black buckled boots. Around her waist, she wore a yellow sash in which the handle of a pistol jutted out, along with the hilts of a dagger and a sword.
Like Jack, she had dark, dreadlocked, and braided hair, though hers was slightly cleaner and gathered in a high ponytail behind her head to keep it out of her face. Her skin was the colour of burnt caramel, and she had many studs and hoops of gold adorning her ears and a golden nose ring to match.
However, her most distinctive feature was her eyes, which were the same shade and shape as Jack's and lined with black kohl, just like his.
"Ah, Little Jackie-boy! You finally made it! I was wondering if you'd ever show." Jacqueline Labelle's voice was deep and rich, like the gentle purr of a cat.
"Jacqueline, always a pleasure," Jack grunted, unusually stiff and awkward, as the woman squeezed his cheeks with a dark, well-manicured hand heavily adorned with many jewelled rings.
"Ugh! Such a cold greeting for your beloved sister! Thank goodness our old man isn't here to see you behave so poorly. He'd have your head."
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Jack grumbled with a roll of his eyes as he looked around the room. "Where's young Jimmy-lad? I was gonna tell him all about the raid of the Damocles!"
"Oh, my darling Jimmy is back on the ship scrubbing pots and pans with old Doppler!"
"Scrubbing pots 'n pans ey?" Jack frowned oh-so-dramatically. "And pray to tell, my dear sister, why my favourite nephew is getting punished by such a boring job?"
"Because he thought it would be a good idea to taste test a few of my best bottles of rum from my private collection. And you, of all people, know what happens to those who take from my collection." Labelle turned her attention to Peggy, whom she hugged and kissed on both cheeks.
"Ahh! Darling Peggy, how are you, my dear? Has Jackie-boy been treating you well, or has he been getting you into nasty trouble?"
"No, Jack and I are fine. We've been pretty trouble-free for the past few weeks. Honestly, it's kinda weird," Peggy assured the older woman, returning the greeting in kind and flushing pink as she felt herself getting a once over. "Can't say the same for everyone else at Port, though."
"Ah yes, you saw that, huh? Yes, many pirates are feeling the sting right now. Though I must say, the Pearl looks as gorgeous as ever." Labelle's brown eyes hardened as she gestured for Jack and Peggy to join her in taking a seat. "Here, some ale to start us off. Don't worry, Jackie, I'll order some rum later." She assured her younger brother as he scowled in annoyance at the lack of his favourite beverage, "But there's a lot we need to cover tonight, and I need you both nice and sharp."
Peggy and Jack glanced worriedly at one another as they received a pint of ale from their host, who raised it in a small toast.
Once they were finished taking a swig, Labelle leaned back in her chair and sighed.
"Alright, let's start the evening with some good news then, shall we? Jackie, you'll be very pleased to note that the artefact you've been searching for does exist."
"Ah, I thought so." Jack grinned, his eyes lighting up like a child at Christmas.
"Only problem is, is that barely anyone knows what the damn thing looks like or where it is."
"But there is someone who knows." Jack quirked a brow as he took a sip of ale. "Or else you wouldn't have waited so long for me to come and hear you out ey?"
"Aye, that's right," Labelle smirked in amusement at her younger brother's enthusiasm. "The problem is that the man you're looking for…well, he is dead."
"Okay…" Peggy frowned as Jack's face fell like a stone. "So…how does that help Jack exactly?"
"Patience, my dear, I'm getting there." Labelle cautioned her playfully, though the sharp gleam in her eye made Peggy shut her mouth like a clam. It was almost like being on the receiving end of one of Jack's stern orders. "As I was saying, the man is dead. He died in an island prison off the coast of Hispaniola. It's a nasty place, the kind where they throw away the key once you're behind cell doors. Currently under the jurisdiction of the Turks, funnily enough, though neither the British nor the Spanish are doing anything about it, though that may be because it's riddled with disease and death." she paused to take a swig of ale. "However, rumour has it that your man stowed his journal in his cell, and in that journal is a drawing of the artefact. A very accurate one if it is to be believed."
"And who is this very helpful man we must thank for accurately documenting this artefact?" Jack prompted irritably, his entire body almost on the edge of his seat with eagerness.
"Why, who else but Percival Stafford-"
"Old Silverbeard?" Peggy's eyes widened in shock. "The Sage of the First Brethren Court?"
"Aye, that's right, dear." Labelle smiled at Peggy before turning to Jack. "I see you've been educating this one very seriously."
"Indeed, I have," Jack smirked, but it fell short as he glanced at his cabin girl suspiciously. "Though, I admit I hadn't gotten as far as old Silverbeard yet. How do you know about that love?"
"Hector told me."
"Barbossa?" Labelle frowned, and Peggy nodded.
"Yes, the day before he died."
Peggy gulped down the small but hard lump in her throat as she reached under her coat for the small satchel she had stowed and pulled out a faded blue book with the title 'Tales of the Deep: A Compendium of Sea Myths, Legends, and Lore Through the Ages. By Percival Stafford'.
Upon seeing the book, Labelle and Jack's eyes widened like saucers.
"Where did you get that?" Jack murmured in near awe.
"In Port Royal. I found it lying on the docks a couple of years ago. I thought I lost it when Hector took me and Will hostage, but it turns out he kept it on the Pearl in my nook." Peggy frowned at the two older pirates. "Alright! Spill! What the hell is with this book? Seriously, Hector had the same reaction as you when he saw it, so clearly, it's something important."
"Well, Peggy Dear, Silverbeard is not exactly a well-published author, as you know." Labelle coughed as she leaned back in her chair, her eyes warily watching the book as if it were a bomb about to explode. "Indeed, many in the court sought to keep his knowledge as secret as possible."
"But why?"
"Because love, he knew too many things for his own good." Jack grimaced, taking a sip of ale to take the edge off his shock. "If people knew what he knew about the ocean's secrets, then they wouldn't be secret, nor would they be safe from those who want to steal them for themselves, ey?"
"So it was to keep the ocean safe?" Peggy muttered
"Exactly," Labelle nodded grimly. "That's why years ago, the Brethren Court ordered any copy of the Tales of the Deep to be destroyed on sight. Now, the only copy they keep is for preservation alongside the Pirate Codex. Or so we thought." Labelle sighed. "Indeed, there were rumours that three copies of the books had slipped through the cracks."
"You're sure about this?" Jack narrowed his eyes at his sister suspiciously. "Really sure?"
"Aye, I'm sure."
"How?"
"Because our dad was sent to retrieve and destroy the copies," Labelle grunted. "However, he only found two of three. The third, he never found."
"Why was he looking for them?" Peggy tilted her head and felt her gut sink as Labelle looked her up and down with a piercing gaze. "…no…you don't mean…"
"I'm sorry, dear." Labelle grimaced with sympathy. "But yes, the EITC was using the knowledge of Silverbeard to hunt down your kind. Indeed, it was said his grandmother was of selkie blood herself, hence why he was chosen to broker peace between humans and selkies. As a child of the land and the ocean, his word held a lot of weight. And if anyone knew how to locate and hunt Selkies down, it would be one of their own."
"So that's why…" Peggy's face paled to the colour of chalk as she frantically opened the book to the index and scrolled down. "Just, wait a moment." She quickly skimmed through the pages in a desperate search for the spot. "There! See. The section for Selkies."
She opened the book and flattened it on the centre table for Jack and Labelle. She pointed to the centre between the pages. Labelle and Jack both leaned forward even more. There, barely visible against the spine, were long strips of paper, neatly ripped so close to the spine they were barely visible from a distance.
"I don't see anything about selkies' love." Jack's brow furrowed, and then he suddenly stilled as he caught sight of the ripped pages. "Ahhh…well shit."
"Those bastards", Labelle's eyes shot to Peggy in astonishment. "And you just found it lying around?"
"Yes, it was lying in the dirt and nearly got run over by a carriage. William almost threw a fit when he saw me jump into the road to fetch it. He wouldn't stop fussing about me all day." She chuckled but then quickly fell silent. Her heart stung in her chest from the memory.
"Well, bloody whelp aside, it's best to leave the past in the past." Jack waved his hand dismissively, though his eyes burned with wrath at the mere mention of said whelp's name.
Labelle, however, sighed heavily.
"Forgive me, Jackie, I am afraid we cannot do that today. Because that bloody whelp is the second reason I called you BOTH here."
Now Jack did scowl. It was terrible enough Peggy had let her guard down once and let the boy come into her thoughts. Now they had to go and talk about him, too? The poor lass, she'd not get any sleep tonight from all the crying she was bound to do.
"What's wrong? Did something happen to him?" The worried expression on Peggy's face almost made him sick to his stomach with rage.
Gods, he was fond of this girl, but she needed to improve her taste in men!
"Is he dead?" He asked, not even bothering to mask the bitterness in his voice.
"No, Jackie, he is not dead!" Labelle clipped sternly, shooting him a warning look, which he blatantly ignored as he scoffed:
"hmph! Shame."
"Jack!" Peggy snapped at him, shaking her head as she looked expectantly at Labelle. "Go on, what's happening with Will?"
"Look, Peggy dear," Labelle leaned forward, her voice careful and measured as if trying not to spook or startle a distressed horse. "When you three defeated Barbossa at Isla de Muerta six months ago, you left a lot of chaos in your wake and many angry sailors who jumped to freedom the first chance they got-"
"They spilled the beans on me being a selkie…didn't they?" Peggy groaned into her hands.
"Aye…they spilled the beans big time. Well, those that survived that storm did." Labelle leaned back with a heavy sigh. "One in particular, a gentleman named Twigg, or so I am told, was especially talkative. Now, most who heard the man thought he was rambling mad, but there was one fellow, a real nasty piece of work, Sloane, I believe he's called, he was listening very carefully to this Twigg fellow. Very, very carefully, and asking him a whole lot of questions. Questions about you, Jack and your William."
"Oh god." Peggy gulped, her gut nearly falling to the floor.
"And ye waited till now to tell us this?" Jack growled at his sister, who snapped back waspishly.
"I'm not finished, Jackie!" She waved him to silence and sighed again. "As I was saying, this Sloane fellow questioned Twigg very intensely about you and your adventures with the Pearl. And then…a couple of weeks later, Mister Twigg vanished. At first, we all just thought it was the usual case of running out of debt or getting shanked for coins. But then, other men who claimed to be one of Barbossa's crew also started goin' missing. We don't know if it was Sloane or someone else-" she added before Jack could open his mouth again. "But…considering your cabin girl is of selkie heritage and the very sudden aggressive interest the EITC seems to be taking in this area-"
"The EITC is after her." Jack finished his tone unnaturally grim. "The last Caribbean Selkie."
"Aye…That's what it seems like." Labelle nodded, her brown eyes welling with sympathy as the young selkie before her sagged defeatedly into her seat.
"And they're…they're going after Will? Because of me?"
"Looks like it." Labelle grimaced. "Barbossa was the Pirate Lord of the Caspian Sea; his death will have caused ripples that have been felt across the seven seas. Not only that, but men from his old crew are claiming that he died at the hands of a selkie. Such a fantastical story has ways of spreading even to the strangest of places. You can't have expected the EITC not to sit up and take notice when they have spies everywhere, even here?" She added with a disappointed frown at Jack, who bristled and folded his arms.
"There's just one thing, though." The pirate captain grunted, "Dear William was pardoned by the crown for his escapades because of his new high and mighty father-in-law, Governor Swann."
"You think that will stop the EITC?" Labelle raised her eyebrows. "You, of all people, know how dirty those blackguards play, Jackie. They're more ruthless than some of the worst pirates I know."
"Aye…I know that." Jack muttered, his hand almost absentmindedly rubbing his wrist where the letter P was branded painfully into his skin. "Still, it doesn't mean that brat has no protection. It's not like we have to jump in and leap to his res…cue…" Jack trailed off, eyes widening with horror and disgust as he caught sight of the determined gritting of Peggy's jaw.
"What?" Peggy blinked at him, and he shook his head.
"Don't 'what' me lass! I know exactly what you're thinking, and the answer is no. Absolutely not!"
"Jack, Will's in danger because of me-"
"No, he ain't. From what I recall, he was the one who dragged ye back into my arms in the very first place without a care or thought for your safety. HE was the one whose bright idea it was to free me from prison and chase after Barbossa. Even you agreed it was all HIS idea in the first place, so let him deal with the consequences!"
"William helped you get back the Pearl!" Peggy retorted heatedly, "Without him putting his literal neck on the line, the curse would never have been lifted, and you know it!"
"Aye, but not without giving me and you all that grief." Jack rolled his eyes. "If he hadn't thought to double-cross me, we might've been able to solve the problem with a lot less bloodshed."
"Maybe if you had trusted Will and me with your full plan instead of keeping us in the dark, then YES, maybe we could have, but you didn't!" Peggy growled. "Besides, that still does not invalidate my point. At the end of the day, Will saved you from hanging at his own risk to his life!"
"That I will give him credit for, I admit." Jack snorted bitterly. "But that does not change the fact that he's a bloody nuisance, and the only reason the brat is in danger is his own doing!"
"Jack! How can you say that?"
"Very easily, as it turns out! What I don't understand is why you defend that whelp so much." Jack groaned, rubbing a hand over his dreadlocked head in frustration. "Seriously, Pegsy, you're a bright lass, but what is it about this eunuch that makes you lose all common sense? Hmm? What is it?"
"Jackie, hold on-" Labelle tried to warn, but Jack was not listening as he continued to rant:
"That selfish little prick was happy to use you as his little stay-at-home pretend wifey while he chased and mooned after that rum-destroying pouty-lipped noble brat! And she was no better either! Pretty as a picture, but she was more than happy to take and throw whatever she could get her hands on! You know she barely acknowledged your existence or your contribution to her rescue?! And then, she was more than happy to take your lad without thinking about you or her fiancé! Oh yes, some great friend she is. No wonder the whelp chose her over you! Two selfish peas in a bloody pod they are!"
"Jack! That's enough!" Labelle shouted angrily, giving a pointed look at Peggy.
Jack looked down at his cabin girl, and his racing heart sank into his chest.
Her head was lowered, and her hunched shoulders trembled as she wept softly into her hands.
"Peggy…I…" Jack gulped, anger flooding out of him and replaced instantly with guilt that swirled uncomfortably in his gut as he reached out to put a hand on her shoulder.
However, no sooner had he touched a finger to her than she leapt to her feet and swept out the parlour door, almost colliding with Annamaria, who had arrived to deliver dinner and rum to the room.
Upon catching sight of the crying girl running down the corridor, the ex-smuggler glowered at Jack.
"What did he do this time?" she growled, like a dog ready to take a bite.
"Don't look at me! This one brought up that whelp!" he jerked his thumb at his sister, who rolled her eyes at his childish blaming.
"I was trying to handle the matter sensitively! YOU chose to go on a rant about the boy!"
"Well, she can't keep wallowing and defending his ungrateful arse! It's not healthy!"
"I'll go find her." Annamaria sighed, rolling her eyes at the two glowering siblings as she set down the tray. "You two just shut up and eat! And no more shouting! I can nearly hear you from the bar!"
There was a sharp snap of the door closing and then silence.
Labelle looked at her brother's back. It was stiff and straight, not a hint of the languid saunter he usually had.
"Jackie-"
"Shut it!" Jack snapped, his voice as sharp as a sword. "You're not the one who listens to her cry herself to sleep at night, so don't talk as if you know what it's like!"
"Don't I?" Labelle quirked a brow. "You don't think I know how maddening it is to watch your child in pain and not be able to kick the arse of the one who hurt them?"
Jack grimaced but did not comment.
"Look, Jackie." Labelle grabbed Jack by the arm. "I know it's frustrating. But you can't force her to feel better when you want her to. It doesn't work like that. Her heart will heal when it's her time."
"That swine doesn't deserve her being heartbroken over him." Jack spat viciously. "He hardly deserves that happy ending he got himself!"
"That's not for you to decide." Labelle shook her head. "Besides, we don't even know if he is happy. For all we know, he might be utterly miserable with his lot in life after losing her."
"Good, I hope he is miserable. I hope that Miss Swan dumps him for some other gullible idiot. Give him a taste of his own medicine." Jack scoffed, and Labelle chuckled weakly.
"Peggys needs time. Time and perspective. And who knows, maybe seeing the boy living without her might buck her up enough to kick his arse to the curb herself."
"Or it might turn her into a drivelling mess again." Jack looked down at his toes. "I have seen that girl tear men to shreds and draw blood with a bite, and yet she's as soft a kitten when it comes to him. I don't know why."
"She's a young woman in love-"
"But why him?" Jack groaned. "Yeah, he's pretty easy on the eyes, but looks come and go, and I honestly don't see what's so special about him."
"They lived together for years, Jackie. And from what little she's told me about her life with him, it sounds like they went through some tough times together. You don't get through those kinds of things without forging some bond. Now, come on! Let's eat and cool off before the lovely Anna comes back and skins our hides."
"Damn, Jack! Damn, Labelle! Bringing up all that shit!" Peggy cursed as she stood in the alleyway behind the Twelve Daggers.
It perhaps was not the safest place to look for a moment alone. Many vagabonds and gangs of pirates tended to mug unsuspecting drunk patrons. But Peggy did not care. Let them come; she could shred men with her selkie fangs and claws.
"Miss Blake?"
Peggy turned her head sharply to the source of her name and was surprised to see a man sitting slumped on the ground opposite the door she had just exited, cradling a bottle of rum in his lap.
From what she could see of his sprawled legs, he was a tall man, wearing what once must have been a navy officer's uniform—and not just any officer's uniform, but a rich navy blue with plenty of gold and white trimmings. Only it was not so pristine or neat anymore, and neither was the powdered wig on top of his messy head, which looked like it had been trampled over many times by muddy boots.
Then Peggy's eyes travelled down to the man's face. It was covered in filth and had a scraggly beard, but the eyes were familiar. They were bright blue, hazy from drunkenness, and framed by a thick brow that furrowed as their owner tried to focus on her despite his inebriated state.
"… Commodore?" Peggy squinted, her sorrow fading as morbid curiosity won over.
Good lord, that could not be Commodore James Norrington…could it?
But then he spoke, and the voice was unmistakably the familiar deep drawl of the officer that had once commanded the respect of Fort Charles and Port Royal.
"Ah…it is you, Miss Blake. I wondered when I'd find you here. I guess even your precious Captain Sparrow must find a branch to perch on eventually?"
"How the hell did you end up here?" Peggy knelt before the man, completely forgetting her usual perceptiveness in her shock.
"Hurricane," Norrington grunted as he took a swig from his grubby rum bottle, and Peggy winced as she smelled the heady scent of alcohol on his breath. "No thanks to you and Sparrow."
Peggy grimaced as she remembered the bad hurricane from a few months ago. It was gnarly even by the Caribbean's usual standards. Many ships had gotten lost in it; it had been that large. Not even a sturdy lady like the Dauntless would have survived that rough hellscape. The only reason the Black Pearl managed to avoid sinking was because of Jack's bloody compass, which steered them along the safest path around the storm's fringes, and she still got severely scuffed.
"The ocean still loves you, or else you wouldn't have survived," Peggy muttered, and Norrington snorted derisively. "What about your men?"
"Dead. Most of them." the ex-commodore stated bluntly, "Though Lieutenant Groves and some others left to rejoin the navy a few months ago."
"But you stayed behind?"
"And go back to what?" Norrington glowered at her venomously. "Yours and Sparrow's antics cost my standing, my commission, and my fiancé's love-"
"I'm sorry to burst your bubble, Commodore, but Lizzy never really loved you." Peggy sighed, "She was just using you to get Will and me to safety-"
"Just as Turner used you to ensure her safety." Norrington rolled his eyes and shook his head at the heavens above. "I saw the look on your face when that fool confessed his love for Elizabeth. You'd have to be a blind idiot not to see it."
"Then you know why I chose to leave with Jack,"
"I suppose becoming a filthy pirate would be preferable to watching the one you love marry another." He agreed, his voice quiet and far less harsh than before as he heard her sniffle.
"Me? Filthy? You haven't looked at yourself in a mirror for a while, have you, Commodore? Though I will admit, the beard is rather dashing on you. You've got a good chin for it. Just needs a trim, and you'll have half the wenches in this tavern falling over you for a drink."
"I suppose I should take that as a compliment."
"I don't see any other lady paying you one, so yeah, I guess you should."
They both paused to chuckle, though neither of their hearts were in the jest.
"So they are getting married then?" Peggy mumbled, wiping at her burning eyes. To her surprise, Norrington's expression softened at the sight of her tears.
"The last time I saw them was at their engagement party just before I left to chase you and Sparrow. Though they did say it would be months before they wed, who knows when that'll happen?"
"Good lord! They invited you to their engagement party?" Peggy almost felt her heart break in two for the man. She had barely managed to watch Will proclaim his love for Elizabeth. She did not think she could handle being there to watch him put a ring on her finger. "You're a much stronger man than I am."
"You are not a man," Norrington smirked to lighten the mood, and Peggy shook her head.
"You know what I mean! Still, it beats me why you decided to attend when you're the old fiancé."
"Well, unlike you, I was a public official, wasn't I? I had a duty to uphold whatever dignity remained to me. Besides, getting a dig in at Turner felt good once I had a couple of drinks."
"What did you say?" Peggy asked, though she almost half dreaded to hear it.
"I heard him griping about wishing you were there to celebrate with him. So, I laughed and told him he was a fool if he thought you'd ever be happy watching him slobber over another woman after all he put you through." Norrington took another swig of rum, looking mightily pleased with himself. "Oh, he did not like that. He did not like that at all. Nearly punched me, he did, brute. Told me I didn't know what I was talking about. But that's the thing, isn't it? For all his declarations of affection for you, Turner is blind to everyone else's suffering but his own."
"You sound like Jack," Peggy muttered bitterly.
"Who'd have thought it? I finally found a topic on which Jack Sparrow and I can agree. This truly is a momentous day." Norrington declared sarcastically to the empty alleyway.
"You talk down to me for loving William, but you're the one who fell for Elizabeth when she used you as a stepping stone to get what she wanted." Peggy snapped, feeling her cheeks heat up despite herself.
"Yes…yes, I did. Didn't I?" Norrington sighed bitterly, and Peggy was alarmed to see his blue eyes wet with unshed tears. "It looks like we were both played for fools, then?"
"Yes… we were." She mumbled guiltily. It was strange that she and this man who had once stood so far above her could be lowered to equals in the dumps by two people.
All because we chose to love people who'd never love us back. Love does make fools of us all. Peggy looked down at the toes of her boots.
There was silence as Norrington brought the bottle of rum to his lips once more, only to upend it completely and wince as nothing hit his tongue.
Norrington swore loudly, and Peggy almost felt scandalised by the sound. Never in her wildest dreams did she think that she would see James Norrington, of all people, swear so uncouthly. It was like watching a rainbow-skinned pig walk on its hind legs and smoke a pipe!
She was spared from any commentary by the door to the tavern opening behind her and Annamaria's sigh of relief.
"There you are! I was about to send Jerry to the ship to look for you!"
"Sorry, Anna, I just needed some fresh air." Peggy rose to her feet.
"Well, you ain't about to get any with this one sittin' in the gutter," Annamaria growled at the ex-commodore, who glowered back at her with interest. "Lousy drunk lubber! Wait-what is this Peg?" Anna frowned at the coins Peggy pushed into her hands.
"This should cover his room and board for a few days."
"I don't need your pity, Miss Blake," Norrington grumbled, and Annamaria muttered.
"He really doesn't."
"It's not pity." Peggy murmured, "I'm thanking you."
"For what?"
"For this." She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a wad of cloth. It had once been pristine white, and she had done her best to wash it regularly, but the colour had long since faded to a dull grey.
"What's that?" Norrington muttered as she held it out to take, only to pause as he caught sight of the initials J.N. embroidered in fraying black and gold thread in one corner. "Wait…this is…this is mine."
"You gave it to me on the day of Jack's execution."
"And you've held onto it all this time?" Norrington looked up at her, his slightly glazed eyes wide with astonishment.
"Yeah…you said I'd need it. And you were right. I did. Probably more than I expected," Peggy murmured as she pressed it gently into his grubby hand. "You showed me kindness when I needed it most, and it's helped me through some dark times. It's only fair I should return the favour."
There was a pause as Norrington looked her up and down as if seeing her clearly for the first time. Maybe he was, given how much he seemed to have drunk. However, when he clambered to his feet, he impressively managed to keep his balance and coordination.
His hand was firm but gentle when he reached to grip Peggy's arm.
"You're…" He gulped as he tried to steady himself. "I take back what I once said. You're a good woman Miss Blake, one of real quality."
"Commodore-"
"James." Norrington corrected her, squeezing her arm. "Call me James."
"James." Peggy felt herself smile despite herself. "You're a good man, James. They took so much from both of us. Don't let them take that from you, too."
"Perhaps you should heed your own advice, Miss Blake."
"Peggy." Peggy corrected him, "My friends call me Peggy."
"Peggy…" Norrington repeated softly to himself as Peggy turned to whisper to Annamaria, who had watched the exchange in a mixture of awe and bewilderment.
"If he runs out of money and can't pay for his room or board, give him chores in the tavern so he can work off his tab. Whatever happens, don't let him sleep on the streets, and if someone called Sloane asks for him, send him packing."
"Sloane? That vagrant." Annamaria frowned. "What does he want with officers? Usually, he steers clear of them like the plague."
"He's EITC."
"What?! You're kidding?" Annamaria's nostrils flared. "No way…seriously?"
"Aye, and he's been causing trouble. So don't let this one out of your sight. If the company gets hold of him and he squeals, it's goodbye to all of us."
"…well…usually, I'd kill squealers like him before they'd open their mouths." Annamaria glared at Norrington with disgust as he belched loudly into the alleyway, "But if you vouch for him, I guess I can give him a chance. But he's going to have to work for his supper." She added loud enough for Norrington to hear before grabbing him by the arm. "Labelle and Jack are eating inside; I suggest you return so you don't miss out on your pie."
"Thanks, Anna. You're a good friend. Stay safe, James."
"Thank you…Peggy." Norrington coughed as Annamaria dragged him inside.
"Come on, Commodore! Let's get you cleaned up."
Peggy shook her head as she heard the ex-commodore mumble and grumble under his breath as Annamaria hauled him towards the tavern's laundry. It was one of the few rooms in the building with quick access to running water, making it the perfect place for staff to wash themselves and their clothes peacefully.
"Now to deal with Jack and Labelle," Peggy muttered as she strolled back inside and towards the parlour door.
She could hear Jack and Labelle arguing inside, but it did not seem severe. Merely idle sibling squabble.
However, when she opened the door, she winced at the eager relief in their eyes. Clearly, she had worried them a lot more than they were pretending.
"Ah! Welcome back, dear. We saved you a pie." Labelle gestured to the remaining meat pie on the table and the mug of ale.
"I'll eat it in a second." She muttered. "I've got something to say first-"
"You're going to go find the whelp." Jack cut across her with an exasperated sigh.
"Yes." Peggy deflated. Jack really could read her like an open book, couldn't he? "Someone's got to warn him about the EITC. If what they're doing to all of us pirates is any indication, then they won't care who they hurt so long as they get what they want. That means a lot of people back in Port Royal are in danger. They need to be warned. So many innocent people could be hung because they associated with me, and it'd be wrong to let them suffer because of that."
"Well, that's all noble and decent of you, love, but-"
"But you can't help me." Peggy finished for her captain. "Nor do you want to."
"Not for the whelp, no." Jack admitted, "And as for civilians, well, you forget love; they were only too happy to watch me hang. But if you feel that strongly about it, then you should go. It was your home, after all; maybe they'll listen to you. Or maybe they'll hang you. Either way, it's your choice, and I guess I must respect that. Besides, I have a treasure hunt to work on, and I'm running out of time."
"Anna gave the two of you a lecture, didn't she?" Peggy quirked a brow at Labelle, who had been silent throughout Jack's little speech.
"The woman knows how to deliver a sermon; I'll give her that." The older female pirate smirked fondly. "But since Jack won't be able to deliver you to Port Royal. I'll help you out."
"You will? But the Painted Lady-"
"I have other contacts with ships." Labelle waved a dismissive hand. "We'll find a way to get in safe and sound, don't you worry,"
"Thank you, Captain Labelle."
"Ahem!" Jack coughed.
"And thank you, Captain, for graciously allowing me to leave your esteemed presence for more than a day, even though I had already decided to go without your say-so!" Peggy said sarcastically, and Jack rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, yeah! Play up the rebellious card, love; we both know you love me too much to leave me in the lurch." He sighed and shook his head. "In all seriousness, Pegsy, if you are going back to that lout, promise me one thing."
"What?"
"Promise me you'll return to the Pearl when you're done. I don't care if you are stuck with that lad for months or even, God forbid, a year. Just promise me you'll do your best to get back to me once you're done dealing with him. So I can – ahem – I-I mean so the crew, can uh…can know you made it out safe. " There was a pause in which Jack looked down at his shoes and added in a mumble. "Ya don't have to stay with us, but…well, they are mighty fond of ye lass-oof!"
Jack was cut off as he was enveloped in a very tight hug.
"Thanks, Jack," Peggy mumbled into his ear as she rested her chin on his shoulder. "I mean it. Thank you."
"You better. I ain't having another mutiny on my hands because the crew thought I'd up and tossed ye," Jack grunted awkwardly as he patted her on the back, cheeks colouring as his sister shot him a very knowing smirk as she took a sip from her mug.
Peggy felt her eyes burn now, though for a very different reason than before. It was not often Jack let himself be vulnerable like this.
Her leaving at a time like this must have spooked him badly.
"I'll find my way back home, Jack, I promise."
The stranger in the shadows watched Jack Sparrow staggered out of the Twelve Daggers alone while two women said goodbye to him from one of the side doors.
Good, this'll go down a lot easier without his interference.
The stranger grinned as he watched the taller woman lead the shorter woman out into the street.
Time to get this show on the road.
"Captain? Yer sure about this?" Gibbs asked carefully as he and Jack strode down the pier. "Lettin' her go back to that Turner with all them EITC runnin' about?"
"Of course, I ain't sure, Gibbs." Jack groaned. "But that's the point, ain't it? It ain't my choice to make at the end of the day. Sure, I could've just hauled her back over my shoulders like a sack of potatoes and lashed her to the mast, but you know Pegsy. Whenever that boy gets involved, her brain just shuts down and goes kooky. Rather, she should go with my blessing and Jacqueline's keeping an eye on her rather than her jumping overboard and getting caught in something out of her league."
"I guess so." Gibbs shrugged with a grimace. "Just wish we could'a said goodbye. What?" Gibbs looked at his captain. "You ain't the only one fond of the lass."
"She worms her way in deep, doesn't she?" Jack snorted. "Like a ruddy termite."
Gibbs shook his head with a fond chuckle.
"She'll come back, Captain." He clapped his captain on the shoulder. "She's not broken her promises before; I don't expect her to start now. Not even for Turner."
"There's always a first time for everything," Jack muttered but then sighed. "But no... you're right. Pegs wouldn't back down on 'er promise unless she had no choice. I just hope that lad doesn't rope her into anything stupid."
"Aye…so do I captain."
"Labelle! What's going on?!"
Peggy's eyes were wide, pupils narrowed to pinpricks as she bared her fangs at the older pirate woman.
She couldn't believe it! She could not believe it!
Labelle, Jacqueline Labelle had just double-crossed her and handed her over to the East India Trading Company!
Peggy always knew Jack's family were a tricky bunch. After all, Jack Sparrow had to have learned his double-crossing, petty ways from someone, but even Peggy did not think his SISTER of all people would sink this far! AND TO THE EITC?!
"Why are you doing this, Labelle?!"
Peggy squirmed, helpless against the two burly men who held her arms behind her back in a painful lock, her stomach aching from where it had been punched hard to force her into submission.
Whoever these men were, they had no qualms about using violence against a woman, though their leader seemed put out that she had put up such a struggle.
Well, what did that jackass expect? She was Peggy Blake, the cabin girl of one of the pirate lords of the brethren court, not some naive housemaid from the mainland!
This must be that Sloane fellow. Peggy glowered at Labelle as the older woman ignored her instead of turning to the EITC agent.
He was a tall man with a fair head of hair. Beneath his short, scruffy beard, he had a handsome face with a strong jaw and a nose that was slightly crooked as if a punch had broken it. His bearing more befitted an aristocrat's clerk than a grubby pirate vagrant.
When he spoke, his voice was melodic and smooth, almost soothing. But something in his pale green eyes made Peggy shiver with unease, and her selkie side raise its hackles. This was not just a man; this was a predator, a hunter.
Just who was this Sloane?
"I trust you'll deliver my son back safe and sound before you depart?" Labelle's voice was stern and curt even as the man smiled.
"Of course, Captain Labelle. Unlike some of your fellow pirates, we at the EITC honour our agreements. Your son will be delivered to you safe and sound into your hands."
Wait! Does the EITC have Jimmy?! Peggy thought wildly, her eyes darting back to the direction of the docks.
But she had little time to ponder the strange turn of events when Sloane reached out with a hand to grab her by the chin and inspect her face.
"I must say, Captain Labelle, when you said you could deliver the last selkie to us, I was sceptical, but those eyes…these fangs…" he jerked his hand back as Peggy, on instinct, snapped her teeth at his fingers before they could touch her face. "You are a marvel, aren't you? All these years, we thought you were dead, but here you were under our noses. My boss will be pleased to see you."
"We'll see about that!" Peggy spat. "I wonder how pleased he'll be once I've clawed his eyes out! AND YOU!" she snarled at Labelle. "Jack trusted you! When he hears about what you've done, you will be in for it! That's if I don't gut you like a fish first!"
"Careful, dear Peggy." Labelle cautioned her sternly. "I do like your spunk, and you might be dear Jackie's favourite, but be careful. Even my fondness has its limits. Anyway, you should be thanking me."
"Thanking you?" Peggy spat.
"Yes, I told you I'd get you on a ship to Turner, and well, the EITC has some of the best ships around right now!"
"They also have the best prison cells around and the best executioners!" Peggy growled, and Sloane chuckled.
"You won't have to worry about that, Miss Blake. My employer gave me precise instructions to treat you as a very special guest. The last selkie of the Caribbean is a precious commodity, and I would not see it spoiled."
"Commodity! I'm a living being, not some slave you sell at the market!"
But Sloane was not listening to her anymore as he turned to offer a hand to Labelle to shake.
"It was a pleasure doing business with you, Captain Labelle. I will be sure to put in a good word to my employer for your sterling service. You shall find your son at the Faithful Bride with my men. He's perfectly safe; the last I saw him, the lads showed him how to win at cards."
"He better be safe." Labelle smiled coldly at the man. "Or else there will be no barren corner on Earth you or your boss could hide from me." She turned her attention back on Peggy, who bristled as she caught sight of the slightly sad gleam in the woman's eye.
"Do buck up, dear. If you're Jack's protégé, you'll be fine." And with that, she stalked around the corner and out of the alleyway, leaving Peggy to scream at her back.
"Labelle! Labelle, get back here! Get back here, you double-crossing bit-"
KATWHACK!
Peggy yelped as her cheek stung from the impact of Sloane's slap. For a man that seemed posh, his hands were like iron. From the callouses she had briefly felt and the slight swollenness of his knuckles, he had to do some boxing in his spare time.
But does he know how to use a sword?
"Dear me, such a temper!" Sloane chuckled as she glared up at him, her cheek red from his hit him. "I was hoping not to use force to keep you quiet, Miss Blake, but if you keep fighting back, I will have no choice."
"Oh, I'll show you fight!" Peggy snarled, and with a snarl, she shoved hard at both her captors, managing to sink her claws into one of their hands.
Then, the man cried out as he leapt away from her in shock and alarm, but Peggy did not have time to pay him attention—not when Sloane suddenly appeared before her with his fist raised.
There was a heavy thud, a flash of white in front of her eyes.
And then…
Blackness.
"Peggy!"
Will Turner shouted as he bolted upright in his bed.
It was the dead of night at Mister Brown's smithy and lodgings. The property owner was somewhere stumbling around in the alleyway, drunk out of his mind.
All in all, it was a very typical night for William Turner. Still, he was unable to sleep.
He cursed himself as he reached for his forehead and wiped off a layer of sweat.
He could barely recall the dream he had just had. Some man was in it, and he punched Peggy in the face. Was it Barbossa? But no? Barbossa was dead, and Jack would never strike Peggy like that.
There was only one thing Will was sure about. Something was wrong in the air tonight. He could almost feel it in his bones.
It's probably just the stress of the wedding planning doing this to me. He assured himself as he sank back into his bed, staring up at the ceiling.
Will sighed as he tried to shut his eyes again, his eyes clenching as visions of a smiling copper-haired woman in a blue dress silhouetted by the setting sun's light filled his head. She had been so beautiful that day, so free. Indeed, nothing bad had befallen her since then. Had it?
Peggy's not in trouble. He mused, pursing his lips as he tried to ignore the odd prickling at the back of his neck that only usually flared if he thought he was in danger. She's with Jack…She's safe with Jack. He promised he would not let any harm come to her. And he won't. Jack would never hurt her. He'd never hurt her…
And yet…
"Peggy…please be safe."
"I thought I ordered you to bring her in without damage."
Peggy winced as she felt a gentle hand turn her jaw side to side to inspect her cheek.
Even without her eyes opening, she could tell she was lying on something…a bed. But not just any bed—a bed on a ship. The gentle side-to-side sway was unmistakable.
"Apologies, my Lord, but she was causing quite the scene. We wouldn't have been able to get her out unnoticed with how she fought back. But do not worry, I have already taken her to the ship's doctor, and he's assured me she will not suffer any lingering side effects from her capture tonight."
"Good. Because there would have been dire consequences for any permanent damage."
That voice…that voice was familiar.
Peggy knew that voice…though she had not heard it for a long time. It often came to her in dreams or at random moments during the day when memories of old were sparked, but those were few and far. The voice's owner had often caused her misery, so she had tried not to think about him.
To think he was here with her in the room after all these years...
"Tch! Tell the men to fetch a bucket of seawater."
"My lord?"
"Some sea water! And quickly! Her kind always heal faster when in contact with the ocean's waters."
"As you wish, my lord."
Peggy flinched as she felt a gentle finger trail across her bruised cheek, brushing her curls from her face. Her curls…someone had untied her hair.
And the finger on her face…
She almost hated how much her heart ached for the familiar feel of Will's hands cupping her cheeks; his hands, roughened from working in the forge, were always gentle and warm for her. Or Jack's teasing fingers that poked her cheeks and ruffled her hair with all those rings and the callouses of rough sea life.
These fingers were gentle, too, but it did not feel right. These were the hands of a man more familiar with handling delicate merchandise than a person they cared about.
"Are you awake, my dear?" the familiar voice called softly to her. "You can open your eyes if you want. We are perfectly alone now."
Peggy thought she could make out some affection in the man's voice, but it felt strange. It felt wrong…
She opened her eyes.
The light of the sun streamed through a window high above her head. From the paleness of the light, it seemed to be morning already, probably only just after the crack of dawn. She was in a bed in a ship's cabin. Merchant ship from its size, she guessed. The feather mattress was soft and luxurious, and the sheets were clean and silky.
But the hand clad in the frill cuffed sleeve of a silk-embroidered, finely woven black wool long coat grabbed her attention. It was the pale hand of a man, very similar in size and shape to hers, though her skin was more tanned and coarser from years of hard labour in the sun and sea, while he retained the softness and smoothness of a plush life spent indoors with pen and paper.
Her eyes travelled up the length of the fine cloth and the shoulder to the man's face, and she gasped.
His face, like his hand, was pale, smooth and unshaven, a mask of calm and propriety. He wore a white powdered wig over hair that Peggy could not see but instinctively knew was mousy brown. His clothes were all pristine and neat to perfection, not a pin nor line was out of place. His ears were of similar shape to hers, as was his brow, though her eyebrows were dark red-brown instead of mousy brown.
And his eyes…his eyes…
Peggy almost felt her heart stop as she saw a pair of grey-blue eyes the same shape and size reflected right back at her, almost like a mirror image of her own, though hers were wide like saucers. Despite his overall icy demeanour, something in his countenance seemed to soften as he met her gaze, the corners of his mouth twitching in the ghost of a smile long forgotten.
"Hello Margaret."
"…Father?"
Notes:
There we have it! The beginning of DMC! Well, it will be a little before the beginning of DMC!
And yes, as many have probably guessed from chapter 9, a certain Lord of the EITC is Peggy's father! We finally got there, folks! Finally, get the mad jerk to meet his daughter!
So yeah, a little bit about Peggy's life with Jack and how she's spent the past few months recovering from heartbreak (or wallowing). I figured he and Gibbs would get frustrated with her moping and grieving the loss of her old life, but it's all coming from a place of love. It was also fun bringing in Norrington a little early. I figure he might hate Jack, but he and Peggy are in the same boat, so there would be some sympathy. Yikes, poor Will is going to cop a lot of flack from many people when he gets back to piracy. Then again, that's what happens when you make enemies out of so many people from your choices!
On that note, it was fun bringing in my new OC, Jack's older half-sister, Jacqueline Labelle (same father, Edward Teague, different mother), the captain of The Painted Lady; shoutout to any fellow Avatar Last Airbender fans out there ;). I hoped to bring Labelle in the Curse of the Black Pearl, but she did not fit anywhere in the plotline. I feel like DMC is a good place to start expanding on the world a little more. And what better way to bring in a relative of Jack's than a double cross? After all, Jack's got to get it from somewhere!
But yeah hope you guys enjoyed because things are going to heat up from here.
If you want to see more or have any further suggestions moving forward please fave, follow and review for more and I'll see you in the next chapter.
Thanks
FuzzyBeta
Chapter 15: A Man of his Word
Summary:
Fare you well my dear, I must be gone
And leave you for a while
If I roam away I'll come back again
Though I roam ten thousand miles, my dear
Though I roam ten thousand miles*
- "Fare Thee Well" 18th Century English Folk Ballad.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
"Hello Margaret."
"…Father?"
Lord Cutler Beckett prided himself on remaining cool and composed in unusual situations.
As a member of the East India Trading Company, he had seen many strange things and had always been able to adapt where many of his peers floundered. His gift for assessing turbulent situations and crafting practical solutions, which he implemented with varying degrees of brutality and efficiency, had been most helpful in his rise to power, and he rarely found himself at a loss or outmanoeuvred by any opponent.
Of course, he had experienced some failures. He was, unfortunately, only human after all. However, he had taken those failures in stride, found ways to work around and learn from them, and rarely, if ever, made the same mistake twice.
And yet, for all that brilliance, all his guile, charm and craft seemed to fail him the day he had found her.
The company had sent him to inspect the new Headquarters in Port Royal. However, a massive storm had battered the ship, forcing them to change course and stop at Barbados to resupply and repair.
He had been walking alone along a small, secluded beach, a rare occurrence since he was a man of business whose job it was to constantly meet and talk with people when he was not filling out paperwork.
But, alas, even he needed some time just to walk and be with his thoughts.
It had been a beautiful day. The sun shone as a few clouds passed overhead, and the water was as blue and clear as a forget-me-not. The seabirds' calls were soft and soothing as a cooling breeze took the edge off the region's heat and humidity.
That was when he saw her.
Her head of fiery copper curls flowed freely around her naked, freckled body as she lay on a rock, her feet dangling in the gently rocking ocean as her head leaned back to absorb the sun.
At first, he had been concerned, wondering if she had been some poor unfortunate that had been ravaged by a savage brute and left to rot on the beach, discarded and used.
Then he saw the smile on her face as she leaned her head back to bask in the ray of a sunbeam peeping out from a blanket of fluffy white clouds.
It was such a warm, wonderful smile. It was the smile of one who was free, had no care in the world, and was just happy to sit and be.
It was not love at first sight. Beckett did not believe in such childish notions even as a boy. When he was a youth, his older sister Jane teased him and said he did not have any romance in his soul, and that much was true.
And yet…as he looked upon this beautiful woman lying on the rocks and basking in the sun's glow, a longing came upon him with such forcethathe almost felt like a tidal wave had knocked him off his feet to drown in his desires.
He wanted that smile.
He wanted it so badly and strongly that everything in his entire being was screaming at him to take it.
And so, he took her for himself.
To his surprise, many of his colleagues did not begrudge him his choice of taking a lover. With their busy schedules and near-constant state of transience, many merchants had mistresses to provide companionship while their wives kept their children and families secure at home.
If his parents' marriage had proven anything to Cutler Beckett, one did not need to hold affection for their spouse to be married. So long as he saved his hand for a woman who could advance his standing and produce a suitable heir, who cared if he took a lover to fulfil his need for affection and tenderness?
It certainly helped his standing amongst his peers that his lover had been a charming and wild beauty.
Wild beauty that had been passed down to their only daughter.
Beckett looked down at the young woman on the bed beside him.
Though she looked a lot like her mother at first glance, he could see small pieces from his bloodline had seeped in bits and places, the most prominent being her eyes.
His eldest and her young half-sister had inherited those grey-blue orbs from him, and he and his older sister Jane hadinherited themfrom their beloved mother, who had long since passed on. It was one of the few features of his family Beckett had been fond of as it had distinguished himself from his pathetic father and brothers.
But the closer Beckett looked at his daughter, the more he could see other small features they shared. She also had his ears, the way her brows creased when she frowned and the shape of her hands, though hers were rougher and more calloused than his own. They clenched tight into the sheets as she gingerly sat up, holding the sheets close to her chest as she realised something was amiss.
Beckett could not blame her for looking alarmed as she looked down at her body, which had been garbed only in a plain white shift.
"I ordered the maid to change you for bed, " he explained, shifting back to give her space as she frantically looked around the room for a sign of anything familiar. "Your clothes and effects have been washed and put away safely. They were rather dirty." He added softly, trying to keep his voice gentle as she gulped. "If you like, then I can order her to draw you a bath-"
"That won't be necessary." She clipped, scuttling away from his touch like a wary cat. "I won't be staying long."
"Oh? And why do you say that?" Beckett's eyebrows rose.
"Why do you think? A pirate has no place on a Company ship."
"But you are not a pirate." Beckett stated, "You are my daughter, and as such, you are perfectly safe from such persecution and under my protection."
"Am I?" the woman narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him. "How can you be sure? How can you prove you are who you say you are? For all I know, this could very well be a trap."
"It could." Beckett admitted softly, "But it is not. And as for proof, I have all the proof I need in front of me. You look so much like your mother, Margaret."
"Peggy." Peggy cut across him firmly, eyes now sharp as they glowered coldly at him. "My name is Peggy Delphine Blake."
"No. It is not." Beckett cut across her softly but firmly. "Delphine Blake is the name your mother tried to foist upon you when she dared to try and take you away from me. Your real name, the name I, your father, gave you as is my right by law, is Margaret Jane Beckett."
"Beckett?" Peggy murmured, and it seemed to Beckett that she was testing the name on her tongue as if it were a foreign word.
What is wrong with her? Has it been that long since she has used that name? Or…or could it be…
"You do not remember me…do you?" he muttered, his frustration melting away as he glimpsed the slight trepidation in her eyes.
"…no. I don't."
"But you remember that I am your father?"
"Sort of. I remember your voice." She admitted. "But no…I don't know who you are."
Beckett felt his heart sink in his chest. This wasunfortunate. Of course, given how much time had passed, he had expected there to be some distance between them but to be utterly forgotten by his child. His flesh and blood…It almost surprised him how much that stung.
Something of his distress must have shown on his face because Peggy's frown softened to a grimace.
"I'm not trying to be cruel." She said carefully. "When I fell overboard, I hit my head, and a lot of things got messed up and blacked out. I have gotten some memories back over the years, small snippets of my life before. But there are still quite a few blanks in my past that I haven't yet recovered."
"Like your name?"
"…yes."
Despite trying to keep the calm mask, Beckett felt his shoulders sag with dismay.
Ah, the fall. He had almost forgotten about that. Well, he supposed it explained the amnesia. Head traumas were a tricky business, and it was not her fault she had sustained such an injury.
No wonder she was so hostile towards him. He mused bitterly. To her, he was a literal shadow from her past.
It probably did not help that she had been taken so roughly from the streets by unfamiliar men and beaten into submission. Then, to top it off, she woke upin a bed without her clothes, with a virtual stranger touching her face and hounding her with questions. Any woman, whether they be civilised or a pirate, would feel anxious and wary under such circumstances.
Beckett cursed in his head. He did not often make such a steep miscalculation, but perhaps he could give himself some grace. It was an emotionally charged situation. His eagerness to bring his daughter back into his care had led him to slip on a few of the details he usually would have considered more carefully.
The heart truly was a treacherous thing.
"Forgive me." He coughed, straightening up and leaning back to give her some space. "I forgot about the accident. Given the unfortunate circumstances, perhaps we should start over from the beginning."
"Perhaps we should." Peggy agreed stiffly, knees curling up as she leaned back against the bed's headboard to be a respectable distance from him. "Who are you? And what do you want with me?"
"I am Lord Cutler Beckett, Supreme head of the East India Trading Company and Duly Appointed Representative of His Majesty King George the Second. I came to the Caribbean six months ago to investigate reports of a stray Caribbean Selkie that escaped the purge twenty years ago. You can imagine my surprise when my men discovered that the selkie in question matched the description of my daughter Margaret, whom I had thought had perished thirteen years ago after my late wife pushed her overboard on the passage to England."
"Late wife?" Peggy frowned, and then her lip curled in disgust. "Ah yes, my lovely stepmother. What was her name again?"
"Constance."
"Constance…of course, now I remember!" Peggy spat with a bitter chuckle. "I should have known she'd be the one to give me the heave-ho! She never could stand me. So she died, then? How?"
"Complications in childbirth." Beckett clipped coldly, unpleased with her uncouth language. He'd have to do something to fix that. "Though not before delivering me another girl."
"I have a little sister?" Peggy blinked, and Beckett was surprised to see her eyes light up for a split second.
"Yes."
"What's her name?"
"Katrina." Beckett sighed. "Hardly the name I would have chosen, but alas, it was Constance's final wish."
"Yes, you sound utterly torn up about her death, don't you?" Peggy deadpanned, and Beckett's lips pursed.
Forget language; he'd have to fix her behaviour. Life amongst those commoners and pirates had not helped her education. Having such a rude and outspoken daughter presented at Court would not look good for him.
"So where is she then? I suppose you have the poor thing locked up in some convent or a gilded cage like you did me and my mother."
"She is here on the ship with me," Beckett muttered, stroking his chin. So she remembered something about her old life. His attempts to shelter her and her mother had not been appreciated. How ungrateful.
"One of my more important associates has a son around her age." He explained as Peggy quirked a questioning brow, "Since we are both conducting matters of business in Port Royal, we thought it was a good opportunity for them to meet before any formal engagement is decided."
"Well, that's some small mercy." Peggy snorted. "Most girls don't even meet their intended till just before they are wed. I suppose it makes little difference. It's not like the poor girl has any choice in who she gets sold off to anyway."
And she was one of those 'enlightened' women too, wonderful. Then again, Beckett did not know why he was surprised; she had been living amongst lawless pirates for quite a while.
"I take it you would have sold me off to one of your associates if I had stayed with you and dear Constance?" Peggy snorted.
"I would have found a suitable match for you, yes." Beckett clipped, "Of course, I would have either had to label you as my ward or sought paperwork to have legitimised you as your mother and I were never married, but-"
"You and mother were never married?"
Beckett paused as he considered his following words carefully. While no one batted an eye to a lord having a mistress, having a child out of wedlock often caused many troubles for powerful men. Constance's attempted murder of his firstborn had proven just that.
"So…a selkie lover." Peggy shook her head and chuckled scornfully, a hollow, bitter sound that eerily reminded Beckett of his father. "Of course, it makes sense now. Why else would you keep us locked away? Can't have the esteemed East India Trading Company director parading a non-human wife of common birth, can you?"
"You may jest, but it was my protection that kept you and your mother alive all those years." Beckett snapped, his mask falling for a fraction of a second "My old colleagues at the time were such fools to kill off the entire selkie clan in the Caribbean. Culling them down and bringing them to heel was one thing. That's just common sense. But the extermination of such a remarkable creature? That was just foolish."
"You say that, but I know your kind." Peggy sneered. "You'd exterminate all the pirates in the Caribbean if you had the chance."
"Pirates, yes," Beckett admitted stiffly as he reigned himself back in behind a cold, blank mask. "Pirates are lawless and create trouble. They interrupt business, and they endanger lives. Selkies, on the other hand, have a place in the world's natural order. They protected the oceans and held to their truce."
"Ahhh! I see how it is." Peggy rolled her eyes. "So long as something's useful, it's worth preserving and keeping safe. But if it interferes with the 'grand plan,' it's eliminated from the board. How pragmatic of you, father." She spat out the title like one would a curse.
Beckett opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by a knock on the door. A clerk with a nasty, gnarly scar over his cheek stood with a bucket of seawater and a few wads of cloth.
"The seawater you requested, sir."
"Thank you, Mister Mercer. If you would bring it here by the bed and then tend to your other duties."
"Sir." Mercer nodded smartly as he left the bucket as instructed and the cloths on the bedside table and left without another word. However, his eyes did linger on Peggy's red curls and her face for a moment or two in curiosity even as he shut the door behind him.
Beckett turned back to Peggy and was not surprised by the daggers she glared at the door.
"I see you remember Mister Mercer, at least."
"No, I don't," Peggy growled through gritted teeth. "But I know a thug when I see one."
"No." Beckett clipped, "Thugs are for the common man who cannot afford a professional. Misters Mercer and Sloane are highly well-trained specialists in their respective fields."
"The man reeks of blood."
"I only smell his cologne, and he keeps himself quite clean – ahh…but of course. Your sense of smell is rather sensitive, isn't it?" Beckett nodded as understanding dawned. No wonder her hackles were raised.
"I see you are still probably upset by the events of last night." he rose to his feet and straightened out his clothes. "I shall have the maid draw you a bath and fetch you some more decent clothes. But first, you should wipe any injuries down with some seawater. If I remember correctly, a selkie's wounds always heal faster when in contact with the ocean. Once you are bathed and dressed appropriately, I expect to see you in my office. We still need to discuss much, and I expect you to conduct yourself with more decorum in the future."
Peggy watched with narrowed eyes as he walked to the door, only to hesitate and take one last look back at her over his shoulder.
"What?" she grunted waspishly.
"…you look so much like your mother." Beckett gulped down the tiny lump in his throat stiffly. "Forgive me. I will see you later."
And with that, he shut the door on her, leaving her alone and confused in that cold, lonely cabin.
This truly is a dismal place.
Jack Sparrow sighed as he looked around the grimy little cell.
Even though it was still daytime, it was very dark as the storm raged on outside. He had managed to pick the lock of the cell with the bone of a dead rat one of his fellow inmates had gnawed upon in his starved state.
The prison island Captain Labelle had described was nothing short of the stuff of nightmares for most pirates. An ocean-locked prison embedded in a fortress of stone carved into a tall cliff with sharp rocks at the bottom.
It was always cold and damp and reeked of rotten corpses and disease.
If Jack had been a normal lubber and not used to traversing through such sordid places, he might have felt scared.
But he wasn't.
However, that could have been because he focused on digging out a loose brick from the dark, grimy wall. He knew it had to be the right one. The little chalk drawing of Poseidon's trident against the stone matched the description of the elderly, emaciated guard he had bribed for information.
Luckily for him, the guards barely checked in on their prisoners. They were too busy arranging sea burials for a bunch of poor, unfortunate souls who had died in a scuffle in their cells.
"Come 'ere. Come on! Thassit!" Jack poked his tongue through his teeth as his knife managed to carve a space big enough for his fingers to get in and grip one side of the stone brick. The mortar was so weak and old that it crumbled away against his touch even as he only gently gripped the brick and tugged.
With a heavy thud, the brick fell back into Jack's stomach, nearly winding him. The mortar might have been weak, but the stone was bloody heavy. Thank God it had not landed on the stone floor. It would have made a hell of a noise.
He quickly recovered and peered inside the hole he had just made in the wall. It was dark inside, but he could vaguely make out the shape of a bundle of cloth.
Cautiously, he reached in with a shaking hand and pulled out the cloth, shaking it out with a grimace as years of slime and grime coated his hand.
Was this it? He frowned as he looked at the blank canvas surface.
Yet, as he turned the material over, a smile crept over his face.
"Ahh…now we're talkin'" Jack Sparrow grinned with glee.
Finally, after thirteen long years… finally he had found it.
The key to solving all his-
CRACK!
KABOOM!
The sudden rumble of thunder and the crack of lightning almost made Jack leap out of his skin.
He was barely able to restrain the yelp of surprise and was glad no one had been with him to witness such a pathetic display as he sucked in a few deep soothing breaths to steady himself.
Just a bloody storm. He shook his head and rolled his eyes to himself. No need to act all lilly-livered.
He looked up at one of the cell walls, where, in a corner, a small barred window allowed him to see the sky outside.
Heavy sheets of rain pelted down from high, illuminated by flashes of lightning. Winds forced the droplets to fall nearly horizontally and parallel to the ground.
Yikes, the ocean really was broiling with anger, wasn't she?
I wonder if Pegs has reached that whelp yet? Jack sighed, his insides squirming as a gust of icy cold wind blew into the cell, chilling his bones.
That silly, lovestruck girl. Risking her hide for that ungrateful brat.
But what could Jack do?
He was stuck here on this godforsaken spit of land, and she was somewhere out there with the EITC after her blood.
"Stay safe, kid,"
Peggy grimaced as she raised her skirts to walk up the stairs of the HMS Endeavour, two armed officers on either side of her. They did not touch her, but Peggy could tell that could all change if she made the wrong move.
Her father, if the man could be called that, had changed his mind about meeting with her in his office and ordered her to meet him on deck for a late morning tea once she was dressed "appropriately" for a "lady of her station".
Peggy scowled as she looked down at the silk under her fingers. Never in all her life could she remember wearing clothes so fine. She supposed she must have worn similarly luxurious clothing before she had been first lost at sea, but that was nearly too long ago to count.
Her dress was a light silvery blue with the lustre of a pearl. There was slightly darker silver silk flowery embroidery over the stomacher, cuffs, and hem of her skirts. Around her right wrist, she had bound a white linen cloth to cover the Devil's Mark. She had told her horrified lady's maid that she did not want to scandalise the crew by letting them see her pirate's tattoo and had been promptly provided with a bandage without any fuss. Thank heavens, no one else seemed to have bothered with any further questions. On her ears, she wore a pair of simple drop blue opal earrings with silver fastenings that offset the abalone shell pendant that she wore around her neck.
Peggy was most relieved that she had been allowed to keep Jack's gift when she was sure most of her pirate garb had been thrown or locked away. It was one of the few pieces of jewellery she had kept throughout the last six months, and having it around her neck bolstered her with much-needed strength. It was like having a piece of Jack and the Pearl with her.
Jack…the Pearl…she wished she was back on that damned ship. Hell, she'd settle for Jack being aboard and by her side, even if he was clapped in irons. As wily and as wild as he was, his presence was soothing.
As he had once said, you could always trust a dishonest man to be dishonest. And he was one of the few people in the world she would trust.
Jack must be well on his way to that Turkish prison near Hispaniola searching for Old Sliverbeard's mystery treasure, whatever it is. Peggy mused silently as she reached up to fiddle with a lock of her hair. Thankfully, the limited time constraint between her bath and meeting her father had not allowed the maid to powder or tease her hair into any elaborate, painful hairstyle. Instead, most of it had been pulled and twisted back into a braided bun.
It was a hairstyle that Peggy had seen Elizabeth wear a few times during the day when she went on outings with her lady's maids, and it suited the noblewoman very well. Peggy, however, could already feel her unruly curls begin to strain and rebel against the pins. She winced as a gust of wind hit her face when one of her guards made to open the hutch that led up above deck.
"My Lady." The man kindly offered her a hand with a small genial smile.
Peggy wanted nothing more than to swat the hand away. She was a pirate! She could probably run the entire length of this ship either naked or fully clothed, whether it was raining, hailing or sailing through hellfire.
However, the poor man was trying to be chivalrous, so she supposed she should be gracious and allow him to do his job.
Besides, the less aggressive she was, the more likely someone would lower their Endeavour was a larger lady than the Black Pearl and more heavily manned, as she had also been fitted with the finest in cannons and weaponry. She had to keep her eyes peeled for any potential blind spots and escape routes she could use once she had an opportunity.
Oof! It is gusty today. Peggy grimaced as she was escorted above deck.
Unlike the day before, which had been clear and bright, today was overcast, grey and windy. No sun would peek out behind the clouds, but neither were the clouds low or heavy enough for rain. Despite the windy weather, the Endeavour's course was smooth, and the sailors seemed unrushed and relaxed.
They were making good time to Port Royal; otherwise, Peggy was sure there would be more of a desperate scramble.
"Ah, Miss Beckett! There you are."
"Oh great." Peggy scowled as she looked for the voice and caught sight of a man standing by a small circular table laden with tea, served by a pair of male servants and set with four chairs.
Sloane looked a lot different from how he had appeared last night. His fair head of hair had been washed, trimmed, and tied neatly behind his head with a black ribbon, and his strong jaw had been shaved clean of that scraggly beard. He was now dressed in a dark green coat with matching breeches, a black silk vest, and a crisp white shirt and necktie.
No longer was he the rough, ragged vagrant from Tortuga. Now, he was Sloane, the specialised "clerk" of the director of the EITC.
He quickly dismissed her guards with a wave of his hand before reaching out to kiss her hand in greeting, only to have her recoil from his touch as if it burned.
To Peggy's surprise, the man only smiled at her, clearly entertained by her rudeness.
"I am glad to see you up and about and in such raring spirits."
"Thank you, Mister Sloane-"
"Please call me Ronan."
"Sorry, but I'd much rather keep this as professional as possible. As I said, Mister Sloane, the feeling is far from mutual." Peggy clipped, ignoring the shocked expressions of many of the officers standing guard around them. They did not expect their boss's daughter to be so openly disdainful. Well, they were about to learn just how nasty Peggy could get.
However, despite her glower, Sloane's grin only morphed into a chuckle, as if they were old friends sharing in an old game of jesting and banter.
"Be that as it may, I am still glad you recovered from your stressful ordeal last night."
"My stressful ordeal? If I remember correctly, YOU and your men were the reason for my stress last night."
"An unfortunate misunderstanding."
"Misunderstanding?"
"Yes, Miss Beckett. Though not yours, of course. You have every right to be angry at how poorly you were treated last night. I thought I had clarified to my associates that you would not be harmed. You can imagine my disappointment when they not only failed to comply with my request but knocked you out so ferociously before I could intervene on your behalf?"
"I find that very hard to believe."
"Then perhaps I can make it up to you by explaining everything while we wait?" Sloane's green eyes twinkled with undisguised glee at her obvious contempt as hegestured for her to join him at the table. "Please take a seat. Your father and sister shall be joining us soon."
"What an honour." Peggy deadpanned, and before Sloane or any of the servants or officers could move, she strode to the table. She pulled out her chair, dragging it as noisily and as harshly as possible across the freshly polished and clean deck so it left a long scratch in the wood. She crossed her legs and folded her arms without even a smidgeon of ladylike grace, smirking as half the men around her stared at her now exposed ankles in alarm. The pair provided for her had not fit her feet, so she forewent wearing them despite her ladies' maid's protests.
Was it petty and childish? Absolutely.
Did she give a damn?
Hell no.
As Jack always said, if you could do it, then why not?
"As much as I am enjoying the view, perhaps you should try not to cause such a scene," Sloane grunted as he sat beside her, barely batting an eye at her scandalous behaviour.
"I don't see the problem here." Peggy sniffed haughtily. "You high-society men expect me to doll myself up and push my breasts up in a corset for the pleasure of your gazes, yet an ankle is where you draw the line?"
"Not all men," Sloane smirked as his gaze wandered to the exposed limb. "Perhaps I've spent too long in Tortuga, but I will never tire of seeing a woman with nice legs. And while I am sure Lord Beckett has similar feelings towards the female form, you are his daughter. I daresay he wishes for nothing more than to do his due duty by you and protect your virtue from unwanted advances."
"Why? So he can sell it off to the highest bidder?" Peggy snorted but had no choice but to unfold her legs, for the silk layers were too heavy to maintain such a position for more than a couple of minutes.
"You truly think so little of the man who has spent so many years in search of you?" Sloane's smile fell from his face for the first time to reveal a genuinely astonished expression. "I know lord Beckett can be perhaps a bit reserved and pragmatic, but he is not without love in his heart. He has been very eager to see you returned safe and sound ever since word of your survival reached his ears months ago. From what I have seen, your apparent death at the hands of your stepmother affected him most gravely."
"Oh really?" Peggy's scowl softened to a grimace as she remembered the look on her father's face when she had told him she did not recognise him.
Despite his attempts to remain stoic and cold, she had seen the hurt in his eyes when he had attempted a second, more formal introduction. She supposed having your child look at you as if you were a stranger would have been quite a nasty shock. But it was not like she had meant to be so harsh.
Even now, she found it hard to reconcile what she saw with what little she remembered of the man. All she had to go on were half-baked recollections and negative feelings. Hardly any happy memories of Lord Cutler Beckett remained open to her.
Then, there was the fact that the man was responsible for the deaths of many of her fellow pirates and the possible harming of the man she loved.
"You believed him to have only captured you to use you for his designs?" Sloane peered at her sympathetically. "You truly do not believe your father does not love you or has your best interests at heart?"
"No. I don't. And I am not saying that because I am trying to be rude." She added quickly, "I simply do not know the man. He has not been a father to me for the past thirteen years. I am not the same little girl he lost. I have lived my own life, and he has lived his, so how can he know what is best for me when he does not know who I am? And how can I be expected to judge him for what he wants if I do not know who he is? But if there is one thing I have learned from being a pirate, it's that just because someone loves you does not mean they are not above using you or hurting you for their gain."
"Then you have learned far more than most men on this ship." A new voice spoke.
Peggy turned and saw her father walking towards her; his mask-like expression oddly strained as he approached the table.
"Thank you for keeping my daughter company, Mister Sloane. I shall take it from here." he waved off his clerk, who refreshed his polite, charming smile as he rose.
"Of course, sir. I shall tend to my other duties. Miss Beckett. I do hope to continue our conversation soon. You are a true breath of fresh air." He smirked as she narrowed her eyes coldly back at him.
"I would say it was a pleasure to meet you, Mister Sloane, but then I'd be lying."
Sloane chuckled heartily, taking Peggy's hand and lowering his lips to her knuckles in gentlemanly fashion before turning and nodding respectfully to his employer.
"Sir."
"I see you and young Ronan are getting along swimmingly." Beckett sighed as he took the seat Sloane had just vacated. "You should be glad that he finds your impertinence charming. Most men of his position would be mightily offended by your tone."
"Most men are idiots." Peggy shot back, and to her surprise, her father smirked in agreement.
"That is very true." He waved away a servant from the table and reached out to pour the tea for himself and his daughter. "Though still, that does not mean we should abandon decorum. After all, is it not our duty as the higher men and women to set an example for those below us?"
"I don't know, you tell me." Peggy accepted her cup. "Speaking of decorum, where is this mysterious little sister of mine who was supposed to join us for tea?"
"She won't be joining us this morning. She is below with her governess, attending her lessons. She may join us later in the day when she is done. She is most anxious to meet you." Beckett sucked in a sharp breath of annoyance. "She has heard about your pirate past and is most excited about your stories. For some reason, the idea that she is related to a pirate is the most thrilling to her."
Peggy smirked, feeling her chest sting as she was vividly reminded of how Elizabeth used to be so eager to hear stories about pirates and sea myths, much to her father's dismay.
"Does she know about what I am?"
"No." Beckett shook her head. "There is no need to inform her of your condition. Besides, it is safer this way. Many men in the Company still believe people like you and your mother need to be eliminated. The less who know about what you are, the safer you shall be."
Peggy nodded in agreement. So, her father did care enough about her not to want her dead. That, at least, was good to know. But that did not mean he could not hurt her in other ways. She'd have to tread carefully.
However, she was finding it very difficult to keep her composure, what with her father watching her every move like a hawk, his eyes softening as he watched her add sugar and cream to her tea to improve the flavour to her liking.
"Forgive me." He coughed, quickly schooling himself back into his usual mask. "You still take your tea like you used to."
"Well, I guess there are some things that one cannot change no matter how much you try," Peggy murmured as she took a sip, slightly unnerved.
Sloane was right. Despite his arrogant and controlling attitude, her father still held some fondness for her. It was eerie.
"I am glad to see the dress fits you well." After a small sip of his tea, Beckett said, "I only had a rough estimate of your size, so I was unsure if it would need to be tailored."
"The corsetry might need some adjusting." Peggy murmured stiffly, "And the stockings are too narrow for my feet, but everything fits well enough apart from that."
"I see. Well, I shall see that a seamstress retakes your measurements when we reach Port Royal."
"That won't be necessary." Peggy waved him off airily. "I can refit my clothing well enough. I have been doing it for years."
"Yes, a washerwoman would have great experience tailoring and mending clothing." Beckett took another sip of his cup and peered imperiously over the rim at her. "It is comforting to know you were lucky enough to find a good, honest job and a safe abode. Many women in your position would have sold themselves for coin on the streets."
Peggy stiffened in her seat. He had done his research, hadn't he? How much else had he discovered?
"How much do you know about me?" Peggy asked carefully, trying to keep her voice airy and casual.
"Quite a fair amount, though, as you said to Mister Sloane, it is not the same as truly spending time and getting to know you. Your true name is Margaret Jane Beckett, though you currently prefer to be called Peggy Delphine Blake. You were born on the twenty-eighth of February, and you have a birthmark behind your right ear in the shape of a small fish."
Unconsciously, Peggy reached behind her ear for the mark, a faint blush dusting her cheeks despite herself as she remembered how Will teased her for 'forgetting' to wash behind her ears when they were children.
"As for your life in the past thirteen years, that has been rather easy to get a hold of, but I know most of the basics. After you fell off my ship on the passage to England, you spent two years serving aboard the Black Pearl under the captaincy of a certain Jack Sparrow. Then, you were thrown overboard during a mutiny led by the infamous Hector Barbossa. Shortly after that, you somehow ended up stranded at Port Royal, where you came into the care of a blacksmith named John Brown and worked as a washerwoman for both the Swann household and then the Navy base at Fort Charles. You lived with mister Brown and his apprentice, a certain mister William Turner." He paused as Peggy's jaw clenched uncomfortably at the mention of the young blacksmith "with whom you seemed to share a close enough bond with to follow him in his rescue of Miss Elizabeth Swann, daughter of your previous employer Governor Weatherby Swann. During this adventure, you were reunited with Sparrow and following a very messy rescue attempt to save him from the gallows, you decided to rejoin him and resume a life of piracy by his side as his woman."
Peggy spat her drink back into her cup.
"His what?"
"That is what the most recent reports from my men state, at least." Beckett countered swiftly, lip curling with disdain as she ignored the napkin provided and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "I take it they are incorrect about that fact."
"In spades!" she gaped in horror. "Good grief, Jack's woman? Is that what people think? Eguh!"
"Yes, I found it very difficult to believe myself." Beckett bristled with shared disgust. "Especially since I have it on good authority that you and Mister Turner shared a much closer relationship during your time living together."
Peggy froze in her chair.
"What did you just say?" She breathed, not liking how her father's eyes lit up as if he had struck gold.
"I have many men at ports across the Caribbean gathering information for me." He smirked as he drained the last of his tea in a smug swig. "The one in Port Royal has been loyal to me for years. When we asked for information about your time in Mister Brown's forge, he said that many sources told him that you and Mister Turner were remarkably close and affectionate with one another. Indeed, many in your community thought the two of you were secretly courting and would marry once Mister Turner could afford to take over the smithy from his master. You can imagine their surprise when he boldly declared his love for Miss Swann at the execution of Jack Sparrow and entered an engagement with her instead."
"Not that surprising." Peggy gulped down the hard lump in her throat, eyes darting down to the table as she tried to disguise her tense face with a sip of her cup. "William always loved Elizabeth for years. We were just housemates and friends."
"Ahhh…I see how it is." Beckett's smile fell slightly as he looked over her face. "You were in love with him. But he did not return your feelings. And so, you left him for a life of piracy."
Peggy's lip curled. It was one thing to hear Jack speak of the topic. Jack had seen it all; he was there, he shared in her frustration, and he had been there to bolster her when she was at her lowest.
To hear her father, this cold, callous snake, speak so blithely about her emotions as if they were as trivial as the weather made her skin crawl and her stomach curdle hotly.
Something of her anger must have shown in her face because Beckett was quick to cough and regain his professional cordiality, mixing in some fake sympathy for good measure.
"I suppose it would have been most improper for you to remain living with Mister Turner, given his engagement to such a prominent woman. Why you had to run off with Sparrow, of all people, is beyond me."
"As you said, it was improper for me to remain with William. And where was I to go if I could not live with him? As far as I knew at the time, I was practically an orphan. I had no prospects and would have barely had any money to find an affordable living situation as a single woman." Peggy grunted, turning her gaze pointedly to the ocean on the horizon.
"And you thought piracy was a better option?"
"It was my life, my decision. And frankly, I do not regret it. As a pirate, I can choose my path without the meddling of a man who thinks they can own me."
"And yet you chose to sail under the colours and control of a man like Sparrow?" Beckett's lips pursed.
That gave Peggy pause. Something about the way he said Jack's name seemed far too strange. He seemed to spit the name out as if it were some curse.
"How well do you know Jack Sparrow?" She asked curiously.
Now it was Beckett's turn to look uncomfortable, though he hid it remarkably well. If it had not been for the telltale avoiding eye contact, a trait Peggy often did when she felt under pressure, she might have missed it.
"Did Sparrow not tell you about his past?" he murmured delicately, setting his cup and saucer on the table.
"I know he has had dealings with the EITC." Peggy folded her arms and leaned back. "I know he was once a privateer commissioned to carry slave cargo. I know he freed said cargo instead of delivering it, got branded a pirate for it, had his ship sunk, and made a deal with the devil to bring it back from the depths. And from how you talk about him, I take it you were the one who branded him?"
"Yes. It was me he had dealings with." Beckett's eyebrows rose in astonishment. "You must be close to Sparrow to know all that information. As far as my spies tell me, such a story is not common knowledge even in Tortuga, so Sparrow clearly kept quiet about it. And yet he would tell you. Tell me my dear, if you are not romantically involved with Sparrow, what is your relationship with him?"
"I would have thought your little bird Sloane would have been able to tell you?" Peggy smirked. "What with him spying on Jack and me and having him kidnap Captain Labelle's little boy, Jimmy? Speaking of which, did you return him back to his mother?" She asked quickly. "No double-crossing? No tricks?"
"As far as I am aware, no." Beckett poured himself another cup of tea. "The boy has been returned to his mother, and they have been compensated accordingly for their troubles. So long as she does not interfere in any future dealings, Captain Jacqueline Labelle need not fear the wrath of me or the Company."
Fearing the Company is one thing. She'd hardly be afraid of a little man like YOU. Peggy snarled in her head. Yes, Labelle might have betrayed her trust, and she was still bitter about it, but Peggy could understand why. She may be fond of Jack and Peggy, who were pirates loyal to the Brethren Court, but she was also a mother first and foremost. Her son Jimmy meant everything to her. Hopefully, the two of them will find somewhere safe to hide at sea or on another island. Given her father's lengths to procure her, Peggy was sure he would scorch the earth to get what he wanted.
But what did he want? He had her in his clutches, so what was his next goal? Why was he sailing to Port Royal? Now that he had Peggy, he did not need William for anything…did he? Was he safe from persecution now that her father had what he wanted? Or was this only the beginning? Had her abduction been just a small stopgap on the way to something worse?
"So what happens now?" Peggy asked as she let her father serve her another cup of tea. "You said you have business in Port Royal, so I am guessing that's where we are headed?"
"Yes, it is." Her father smirked, relaxing in his seat, looking like a cat with the cream and the canary all in one. "And you will greatly help me in my next endeavour. And if you are helpful, I may be able to grant you that which was denied to you so cruelly."
"Oh?" Peggy took a stiff sip of her tea. She had a bad feeling about where this was going.
"Yes. As mentioned, you are closely connected to Mister Turner and his fiancé, Miss Elizabeth. As you know, Governor Swann used his connections in Court to attain a pardon for the crimes against the crown for the young couple. Unfortunately for him, his connections are not quite as prominent as mine."
"You overturned the judgement," Peggy growled, feeling her fangs extend ever so slightly in her mouth, her heart hammering in her chest.
"Yes. And a good thing, too. As noblemen, we must set an example for the empire. How would it look to the common folk if we used our power and influence to evade justice that is supposed to serve the good of the realm? Such actions create a breeding ground for resentment and revolution. However, let it not be said that I am without mercy. With your help, I am willing to offer Mister Turner and his fiancé a deal to help lighten their sentence, and there may even be something in it for Sparrow if he should prove useful. Indeed, if all goes well, then true justice may be found, and maybe, if you still feel that strongly about Mister Turner, I can arrange to dissolve his engagement to Miss Swann and for the two of you to-"
"How f**king dare you!" Peggy snarled so ferociously that her fangs extended, and her eyes flashed silver.
"I beg your pardon?!" Beckett's nostrils flared as he caught sight of the claw-like nails extending and digging into the tablecloth so that they left several large gashes in the material.
"You heard me! How dare you use my feelings for Will to push your filthy agenda. Then again, I don't know why I did not expect this from a man like you." Peggy snorted with disdain. "You can pretend to be all high, mighty, and noble, but I have heard enough men justify their actions with the same old excuses. If there was one thing your stunt with Labelle and Sloane proved last night, it was that you're not above playing as dirty as a pirate to get what you want. The only difference is, is that you're legally allowed to act like an arse because of the privilege of your station." She leaned forward to rest her elbows on the table and look him squarely in the eye. "Let me guess. You need something from Will and Elizabeth. Something important. You cannot simply ask them to help you with this task because you know they will refuse or double-cross you at the first chance. So, you need something to dangle above their heads to make them comply with your every wish without issue. And if they refuse, then no harm will bedone. You can just give them the order to dance the hempmen's jig, and that's two fewer loose threads to worry about. Two fewer pirates in the world to taint it? Am I wrong?"
Beckett blinked at his daughter, his expression blank as he looked at her up and down.
"That is…that is a very accurate assessment of the situation, yes." He answered after a shocked pause, bristling in his chair as he fixed her with an admonishing scowl, "Though I would appreciate a less vulgar delivery. Whether you were once a pirate, you have always been and will be my daughter. I will not have any daughter of mine swearing like some common thug off the street. It is bad enough you could never tame that sharp tongue or that beastly temper of yours."
"Why? The way I see it, Father, is that my sharp tongue is something I seem to have inherited from you. As for my beastly temper, that is something I cannot help as it is as much a part of me as the seawater that flows through my blood. So you only have yourself to blame for that one." Peggy snapped back, blood boiling in her veins. "Also, if you want a docile little bitch then get a dog. Women with my condition, as you so politely put it, do not take kindly to men who try to kidnap, lock us up and keep us miserable prisoners. Just ask my mother. Oh wait, I forgot. You cannot; she's dead because of you." she added and was pleased to see the flash of anger cross her father's eyes, making the grey-blue orbs sharpen like swords.
"Choose your next words very carefully, Margeret." He hissed softly under his breath, a snake rearing to strike. "As your father, I have the right to discipline you as I see fit. I'd hate to resort to such matters so soon after bringing you back into my life, but I will if I must."
"Peggy." Peggy corrected him on autopilot. "My name is Peggy. Margaret might be my name on paper, but I am, and always have been Peggy."
"You would defile the name I gave you out of spite?"
"HA! Oh, the arrogance!" Peggy shook her head and laughed. "You think that me choosing to call myself something other than the name you forced on me is simply to spite YOU? I hardly remembered you for thirteen years. How on earth could I spite you if I did not know you? I might have been born Margaret Beckett, but Peggy Blake is who I am. You had nothing to do with that choice like you had nothing to do with my life till this morning."
"Selfish, ungrateful child." Beckett snapped, his voice a quiet simmer of rage. "Do you know how difficult it has been searching for you all these years, acquiring documents to clear your name and wipe away your death record? Legitimising you so you may enjoy the comforts and privileges to support you in life! All that hard work, all for you, and this is how you show gratitude?"
"Oh, cut the pile of horse shit, ya hornswoggling bilge rat!" Peggy sneered, viciously victorious as she saw the officers around them shift uncomfortably in their seats as their employer bristled and seethed. "All the hard work you have put in to capture me has only ever been for yourself! Not once since you found out about my existence have you ever asked me what I wanted or how I felt about anything. You speak of comforts and privileges, but not once in this conversation have you ever considered that what makes me happy in life is vastly different to your narrow worldview. Even now, you talk about dissolving Will and Elizabeth's marriage and offering him up to me on a platter despite his not loving me. Did you not once consider that maybe if I were to be with a man, I'd want him to love and want me of his own free will rather than be forced to take me as if I were a burden?"
"Marriage for love is a fantasy. You'd do well to dismiss one because it will only weaken your position." Beckett rolled his eyes as if she were merely a small child throwing a tantrum. "As for Turner, do not lie to me about your affections. I see how much you love him, and I know from how you act that if you had the chance to be with him and have it all, you'd take it just like I did with your mother."
"No! No, I would not! I am nothing like you! The fact I left William so he could be happy is proof enough!" Peggy felt her eyes water. "Face it, Lord Beckett, you have no love in your heart for anyone but yourself! Even my mother, whom you claimed to love, was a trophy you kept locked up. If you had any love for her or me, her daughter, you'd have let us both go instead of trying to keep us in gilded cages!"
"That is out of the question!"
"Then we have nothing more to discuss!" Peggy sucked in a shaking breath as she stood to her feet "I will not parley with a creature like you for the life of the man I love. No matter if it kills me!"
"Selfish little fool!" Beckett rose to his feet, almost shaking with silent rage as his daughter sneered.
"Hark, who's talking? Though perhaps I suppose as blood of your blood, I must have inherited it from somewhere!"
They glared at one another fiercely across the table, their grey-blue eyes as stormy as the clouds above, even as Peggy flicked a stray rebelling curl from her face and turned on her heel to storm off towards the railing.
"Not so fast, Margaret!" he clicked his fingers, and immediately, several officers rushed to block Peggy's path.
"Peggy!" Peggy snapped automatically, glaring so venomously at the officers before her that they shrank back a little. "And please tell your men to stand down, if only for their sake. I'd rather them not get on the bad side of my beastly temper, as you so delicately put it."
"And risk you escaping to warn your beloved Mister Turner?" Beckett sneered. "No, I think not. Mister Mercer!"
Peggy scowled as she saw the menacing, blood-scented clerk with the scar on his face suddenly appear from around a piece of rigging.
Had he been back there all this time, or had she been too absorbed in arguing with her father to have noticed him?
"Take my daughter back to her quarters and lock her in for the remainder of the voyage. She clearly needs more time to recuperate and regather herself after last night's ordeal. And set a guard to man the door. I would not see her safety compromised."
"As you wish, my Lord. Miss Beckett." Mercer reached out to take her arm only to have himself be shoved off roughly by Peggy.
"I can manage to walk just fine on my own, thank you very much," Peggy growled, but Mercer was not phased by her viciousness.
"Then, if you would care to follow me closely, miss, that would be most helpful."
Peggy nodded silently, seething as she saw two men close in behind her and Mercer, whom she noticed was fingering a small knife tucked away in a sheath on his belt under his coat.
Sloane might have had brute force on his side, but Mercer…he was bloodthirsty in that cold-blooded reptilian sort of way.
It made Peggy's selkie hackles stand on end, being near him.
Still, she followed, doing her best to ignore the seething glower of her father as she descended below deck and out of sight.
"'ow dare dey?"
The woman in the shack scowled as she looked down into her scrying bowl full of seawater.
In its depths, she could see the face of the confused young woman with red hair being cinched into a corset by a small, mousy lady's maid before ripples made the image fade.
This was bad. The East India Trading Company now had the last of the Caribbean Selkies back under their thumb. Those monsters that had taken so many daughters and sons of the ocean now sought to wipe out their kind with her aid.
The woman in the shack's knuckles gripped the conch shell pendant that hung over her breast so tight that her knuckles paled. The pendant was glowing, and the sobs of a woman weeping were issuing from within its folds, making the shack echo with sorrow.
"Brothas an sistas of di wind an tides guide dis Selkie home to 'er love by di swiftest current an kip har safe from harm. Mi yuh sista beseech yuh."
Usually, she stayed out of mortal affairs, for her powers were far too weak to intervene, but she had worked too hard and long to mould the young selkie to her designs to lose her just yet.
Just a bit longer, and they would pay.
They would all pay.
"Say that again?!"
It took Ronan Sloane not to wince at the deadly tone in his employer's voice.
Lord Cutler Beckett was not one prone to angry outbursts. His anger was as sharp and cold as ice and quiet. Deathly quiet.
The only thing that betrayed his ire was his eyes, blue-grey blizzards in a calm, calculated mask.
Very few individuals could bring the Director of the EITC to raise his voice in wrath, and one of them had just leapt overboard. At the same time, most of the crew had been busy battening down the hatches or harrying up on deck to aid in sailing through the massive storm that had suddenly crashed down upon them.
While it had been a rather dismal-looking day, to begin with, in an hour, it almost seemed as if the heavens and the ocean had turned against the HMS Endeavour.
Even now, Sloane and his colleague Mercer had to brace themselves against the wall as the ship rocked heavily from side to side. Sloane did not envy the state of Mercer nearby. Despite his attempts to stay stoic, the usually menacing clerk's scarred face had turned a nasty shade of pale green, and he was forcing himself to keep his mouth shut to avoid vomiting over the carpet.
How their lord Beckett was managing to stay as intimidating as he did while gripping onto a candelabra by the wall for support was a testament to his wrath directed towards a very sheepish and squirming excuse of an officer who was doing his best to cling to the door as the ship tilted precariously to the right.
A large bruise on the poor youth's cheek was darkening from red to purple.
"M-Miss Beckett, sir. The elder one, she-she…" the poor lad gulped, averting his gaze so he looked anywhere but Beckett's cold glower. "She has escaped my Lord. Sh-she jumped overboard after she attacked me and ran up on deck."
"And how was she able to attack you?"
"The C-captain ordered as many hands on deck to help the sailors, so I sent Officer Myers to help while I checked in on Miss Beckett."
"Check in?" Becket's nostrils flared.
"Y-yes, sir. With the way the ship has b-been swaying I thought I should make sure she was safe from anything falling over in her cabin." The poor lad's feet slipped from under him as a wave buffeted the ship roughly.
"Get out!" Beckett rolled his eyes and waved the younger man off dismissively.
"M-My lord?"
"Out! You're of no use in here!" Beckett raised his voice to be heard over the loud rumbling of thunder.
Sloane gritted his teeth as he watched the lad stumble out of the room, desperate to flee his boss's fury.
"We shouldn't blame Officer Higgins, my lord," Sloane called to Beckett, who had opened his mouth to sneer. "There are many things in the cabins that are not nailed down; Miss Beckett would have ample choice of improvised weapons to hand if given the chance. As for her jumping overboard, she, like her captain, has a reputation for being a wildcard."
"If you have any suggestions for how to apprehend Margaret again in the middle of this blasted storm-" Beckett paused as the boat rocked once again, "-I suggest you speak quickly, Mister Sloane. My patience is running very thin."
Wow, she truly has done a number on you, hasn't she? My kind of woman. Sloane sucked in a deep breath as the ship's floor quickly evened out as they finally found a less rough patch of water.
"Forgive me, sir; we do not need to worry about catching up to Miss Beckett. She's too loyal to Will Turner to stray too far. She'll be at Port Royal quicker than us, but we can make up time once she's on land."
"Mister Sloane is correct, sir," Mercer grunted as he dared to open his mouth, sparing a small glower at his colleague who smirked at his sickly complexion. "We have more than enough men to overturn the town and search for her, and Turner should try to get the slip on us."
"They better be ready to comb every inch of that island if they have to." Beckett's fists clenched on his support, knuckles whitening to the colour of chalk as he hissed:
"I am not letting her slip through my fingers again. Not when we're so close to our goal!"
William Turner stared at the ocean as he strode towards the empty beach. It was dawn, and he was already dressed and prepared for his wedding day.
He should have been at the forge, mentally preparing himself to wed the love of his life in a few hours.
Yet here he was, going to the beach in his wedding suit to watch the red sunrise.
A sailor's warning.
And indeed, he felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle as the sun climbed slowly, higher and higher, staining the world a bloody shade of red.
Despite his recent adventures with the supernatural, Will was not sure he believed most of the ocean's superstitions. However,he could not fight the feeling that something was wrong in the air. The storm last night had been one of the most violent Port Royal had ever seen, and now in the early hours of the morning, it was still damp and looked like rain.
It almost felt like the ocean was calling and begging him to return to its waters. To find her before it was too late.
It happened every time he looked at the ocean. He felt a pull to it so strong that sometimes, without consulting his brain, he found his feet headed straight for the water.
It sometimes got so bad that he forced himself to stay inland and avoid the beach or ocean for days and weeks. After all, he was the man betrothed to the Governor's daughter; he had responsibilities as a fiancé that he could not walk out on.
There were etiquette lessons and talks of business and politics he had to educate himself on to be well-received by the echelons of high society he was to join through his marriage. While informative and interesting, those lessons and meetings were also tedious and grating. But Will put up with it. After all, he was marrying well above his original social status, and if he wanted to be with Elizabeth, he had to put the effort in.
Of course, he could not continue his trade as a blacksmith after his marriage. In addition to naming Elizabeth and Will the inheritors of his mansion and estate, Governor Swann had been most generous in offering to buy both the apartment and the forge from Mister Brown and gift the business to his new son-in-law as a belated wedding present. This meant that shortly after the marriage license was signed, Will would be the sole owner and proprietor and have the power to hire other blacksmiths and apprentices to work under him as employees, elevating his status from mere blacksmith apprentice to merchant. While merchants were still of the middle class, it was still a more acceptable profession for the common-born husband of a noblewoman.
While this was a massive boon Will would never dream of turning down, it dampened his spirits that he would no longer be so free to practise his craft regularly. Despite his moving up in the world, Will did truly enjoy blacksmithing. It was challenging but satisfying work, and he had worked hard to become skilled and accomplished.
Of course, Elizabeth assured him that he could take on private commissions for the other noblemen and members of high society, but Will did not know how he felt about such offers. The way those people looked at him whenever he spoke of his craft made him feel like a performing monkey on display. He wondered if his work would ever be truly appreciated or simply a useless novelty item for the rich that would be forgotten and tossed away once it had lost its lustre.
The smell of the sea spray hit his nose, and Will sighed.
After his adventure with Jack and the Black Pearl, Will had his fill of pirates to last him a lifetime.
Now, all he wanted to do was settle down, marry his beloved Elizabeth in a few days, and form a new life with her. A new life where he would no longer be alone in that dingy little forge and apartment, surrounded by memories of a beautiful girl with curls of fiery copper and grey-blue eyes.
He had so far been vigilant in his conviction to stay away from the ocean. But that dream he had the night before had thrown him completely off his game. He could hardly concentrate on his work, and so hedecided to take a walk, only for his feet to guide him straight towards the beach.
And not just any beach.
As he approached the water, Will looked down at the sand beneath his booted feet.
Ten years ago, he found a little girl with red hair and grey-blue eyes near this spot—ten long but wonderful years ago.
"What am I doing here, Peg?" he asked himself aloud, staring at the red sky. "Why did I have that dream? Has something gone wrong? What are you trying to tell me?"
He knew he must have sounded mad, talking as if she could hear him when she was probably miles upon miles or perhaps even oceans away. Or maybe that was because he was hoping she would?
It was not as if the last six months had been awful, but Will would not say they were entirely happy either.
Despite their happiness at finally being able to be with one another, he and Elizabeth received a lot of flak from the aristocracy and, surprisingly, from many of the common folk, too, at the beginning of their engagement. The whole sweeping the damsel in distress off her feet with a daring do might be romantic in a novel, but Will had been quick to learn that, in real life, such acts were far less rosy and well received.
The Commodore had been a well-liked member of the nobility for his leadership skills and sense of justice.
Many people had been looking forward to the Commodore's match with Elizabeth. He had been courting her for years and earned many people's respect for keeping Port Royal safe, and despite their rivalry for Elizabeth's affections, even William had once held him in high regard. It was a testament to his character that he had conceded in the fight for his ex-fiancée's affection with grace and dignity.
But then there had been that awful incident at the engagement party.
Will had not meant to lose his temper at his old rival, and he had felt immensely guilty about it after the fact. The poor man had been drunk, and watching his old fiancé in the arms of another man could not have been easy for him.
But then he blasted his mouth about Peggy, talking about her as if Will and Elizabeth had been the reason for her leaving—as if Will had offended and hurt her purposefully to such an extent that it had driven her away.
"No wonder she left you." the Commodore had sneered at him as he had finished his glass of whiskey. "You truly must be a pathetic fool if you thought a woman like Miss Blake would ever be happy watching you slobber over another woman after all the pain and heartache you put her through. She devoted her life to your happiness, risked her very life for yours, and you tossed her aside as soon as you had the chance to trade up. What woman would want to stay for a man who would destroy her heart like that without care?"
Will bristled and found his fists clenched by his sides.
It had been months since that night when the Commodore had vanished from their lives due to that freak hurricane.
Still, the words haunted Will, though he did not know why.
Peggy had left because she wanted to go back to the ocean. She had not lied when she had said that. Will had seen how free and happy she had been while sailing aboard the Interceptor with their ragtag crew. Of course, she had been sad to leave. Port Royal had been her home for ten years.
And yet, deep down in the back of his mind, a little voice could not help but sneer at him. What if Norrington was right? What if Will was the reason she left?
But no…that would be impossible. Will would assure himself that if Peggy had felt that strongly about him, she would have told him. Though she may omit specific facts from her life, she wore her heart on her sleeve. If she loved him as more than a friend, Will would have noticed a long time ago, wouldn't he?
Or had he truly been that blind? Was there something everyone else knew that he somehow had missed?
Unbidden hands rose to his lips as he remembered that lonely night aboard the Black Pearl. When Barbossa flung him and Peggy into that dining room, she kissed him and clung to him for dear life.
Will and Peggy had not shied away from showing affection to one another over the years, but she had never kissed him on the mouth before. It had been an unspoken line they had agreed never to cross. Will had been adamant about maintaining that boundary if only because he did not want to bring her any disgrace or put her in a vulnerable position, for if Mister Brown had thought her affections so easy to win, he might have sold her off to one of the brothels the next time his debts got out of hand.
Of course, Peggy had been drunk when she had kissed him, and it had only been a small peck.
But even after all these months, his lips tingled at the memory. It had been so different to his more recent kisses with Elizabeth. Elizabeth made his gut flutter with excitement and apprehension.
Peggy's mouth on his had made his entire body burn as if the fire from the forge had somehow made its way into his very blood. Or was that because he had also been under the influence of alcohol?
There were times when the memory resurfaced, usually at night, and he wondered what would happen if Peggy were with him and he could kiss her again. Would his body still burn as it had done that night? Would he still be so desperate to reach out and tangle his fingers in her soft curls or bury his face into her skin for its scent?
Even now, his desire to see and hold her was so strong that he almost threw himself into the ocean to search for her.
He felt sick with himself.
He was engaged to be married to a beautiful, wonderful woman, and on the day of his wedding, he was standing on a beach and thinking about another woman.
No. Not another woman. A little voice chided him from the back of his mind.
This was Peggy—HIS Peggy. His best friend who had stayed by his side for ten years. His family who was bound by bond, even if they shared no blood.
No matter how confusing his thoughts on her had been in recent months, there was one thing he knew without a doubt: He missed her dearly and wanted to see her—even if it was only once more, if only to hold her one more time. He wanted to hear her sing early in the morning, scold him for not properly putting the dishes away, or tease him about washing the soot from behind his ears.
He missed her so much that being alone in that apartment where they had once shared so many warm, beautiful memories physically hurt and-
A strange snapping sound echoed in the still dawn air, and Will turned sharply to find its source.
It came halfway across the small beach, closer to the water.
Will squinted in the red light of dawn as a large wave crashed upon the shore, leaving something large and dark on the sand in its wake.
Frowning, Will squinted in the dim and red dawn light as he cautiously approached the mass.
It writhed violently on the damp sand as it struggled against the wet white cloth covering it.
A wet white cloth that had sleeves and looked suspiciously like a shirt or a long shift.
Will felt his heart pound as an odd groan of pain filled the air. It started almost deep and guttural like an animal, only to shift into something more human…and distinctly feminine.
No…no, it could not be possible.
It couldn't be…
Could it?
"Peg?"
And before Will could even pause to think, he ran.
Notes:
Here we go, DMC—almost there! Peggy finally had a face-to-face, heart-to-heart conversation with her father for the first time and FINALLY returned to Will.
If Beckett was a little OOC, forgive me. I figured that deep down in his cold, dead heart, he would have some care for his daughter, as twisted as it might be. I figured Beckett and her would clash big time! They might share some similarities, but face it: Peggy is a pirate with a hot head, and he is a cold egomaniac control freak. Also, yes, maybe he does have a shorter-than-normal fuse in this chapter, but face it, his child returns from beyond the grave, and he's eager to see her again, and then he finds out she's become the very thing he despises and is bucking him off. That would grate on any man's nerves.
One thing that always struck me in the films is that, despite working for the British Empire, Beckett, in many ways, is very pirate-like. He's ambitious, selfish, likes to horde treasures (just look at his office and the sets he usually is in) and will play dirty to get what he wants. He just does not vibe with the pirate aesthetic like his daughter XD. I took a few things from Beckett's backstory as fleshed out in the book "The Price of Freedom", which describes his childhood and family, like his sister Jane (whom Peggy is named after) and his father, whom he hated with a vengeance.
Final note: The quote at the beginning of the chapter is a stanza from the folk song "Fare The Well," also known as "10,000 Miles." This is a real-life traditional folk song from the 1700s. I could not find a movie quote or a pirate song that fit the bill, but this did fit just as well.
Anyway, let me know if you enjoyed it, and please follow my fave and review if you have any constructive feedback or suggestions for what you wish to see.
Cheers
FuzzyBeta
Chapter 16: A Pirate in Port Royal Again
Summary:
"Fifteen men on a dead man's chest! Yo-ho-ho and a Bottle o' rum!"
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Will's feet flew over the sand as he ran at full speed towards the thrashing figure that tried to crawl up the beach away from the crashing waves. Strangely webbed hands clawed and desperately tried to find purchase on the wet particles as their owner struggled to crane their neck up, their head of fiery curls damp and clinging to their body like a wet mop.
"PEG!" Will called out as he fell to his knees beside the bedraggled selkie who had turned over onto her back.
His heart almost stopped as familiar blue-grey eyes stared at him from a freckled face half covered in wet red hair.
"William?" Peggy gasped, her voice raspy from the dried salt water as he hauled her up to cradle her in his arms.
"I'm here, Peg. I'm here. It's alright. I've got you." Will brushed her wet hair from her face, eyes wide with worry as he patted her down for injury.
She did not seem bruised or cut anywhere, but she did look exhausted, as if she had run two marathons in a row.
"God, what happened to you?"
"S-swam…storm," Peggy mumbled, a pale hand reaching to cup his cheek. "Had to…to find you."
"Is it Jack? Did you both get in trouble? Did something happen to the Pearl again?" Will's grip on her tightened as he stared at the horizon line, almost as if expecting to see said black pirate ship there. However, all he could see in the distance was a merchant ship with white sails sailing in the port's direction.
"Jack's…Jack's fine. He's gone off on another treasure hunt." Peggy's voice sounded surer now, and she seemed to be gathering more of her strength because she could pull herself up straighter in his arms.
"And he left you behind?" Will frowned in confusion, wincing as something silver glimmered around her neck. It was a silver necklace with an abalone shell locket pendant that sparkled in the rising sun's light.
"I…I told him to." Peggy grunted "I had to find you. I had to warn you." Her eyes widened as she seemed to remember something, and her face paled. With a surprising force, she gripped desperately at his coat collar. "Will, you've got to leave Port Royal NOW!"
"What, leave? But Peg-"
"They're coming for you, Will!"
"Who's coming?"
"The East India Company." Peggy shook his collar desperately. "They've got a warrant for yours and Elizabeth's arrest."
"A warrant? But Governor Swann got us both pardoned months ago-"
"The pardons were overturned!" she grunted as her feet desperately scrambled for purchase on the wet sand. "The director of the EITC had higher connections. They're on their way here to arrest you both right now!"
"Wait now? Hold on, how do you-" but Will froze as he looked at the horizon again. The Merchant ship he had seen from a distance was coming in closer. Now that he thought about it, it was somewhat more prominent and grander than most that sailed into the Port.
However, he had no time to observe more of the new arrivals as he felt Peggy sag in his arms, her strength dwindling despite her attempts to buck herself up.
"You're freezing." Her body shivered and shook even as Will quickly shed his blue overcoat and wrapped it tight around her shoulders. Then, he noticed the shredded and torn shift draped over her body—it was so ragged that it barely covered her naked body beneath. Through the sodden material, he could vaguely make out oddly shaped bruises around her ribs from where waves had struck her body hard. "That's it! We're going home. We can rest there!"
"But Will they're-"
"Peggy, please don't be stubborn. You can't do anything in this state," he grunted as he slid one arm beneath her legs while the other wrapped around her waist. "Let's go home and get you some clothes to start. Then we can figure out what to do from there."
With a little effort, he picked her up in his arms, planting a small peck atop the damp copper curls on her head before setting off on the path that led back into town near the tree line.
"Home?" Peggy frowned tiredly. "You're still at the forge?"
"Yes, why wouldn't I be?"
"I-I thought you and Elizabeth were married?"
"Not yet, we're not," Will mumbled as he quickened his pace and ducked into a shortcut through dense tropical foliage. It was a route he had used regularly throughout the past few months that kept him away from the prying gossiping eyes of his neighbours when he wanted some time alone. "We're supposed to be getting married today."
"Today?" Peggy's eyes widened, and then, to Will's surprise, she looked down at his shirt, her eyes bright and wet.
"I…I'm so sorry, Will. I…I seem to have the worst timing, don't I? Everything I touch is ruined."
"No. Don't blame yourself. This isn't your fault. You haven't ruined anything." Will's grip on her tightened as he felt his heart clench in his chest. How could she think that? "If anything, your warning might just give Governor Swann and me enough time to put everything on hold before it's too late. Hold on, there's a thought." He mused quietly. "Yes…I'll take you home, get you some clothes, then head straight to the Governor's house. Then we can tell him everything! The EITC will need a warrant to enter the property, and Governor Swann can bring Elizabeth back from the wedding while you rest."
"I don't know if gates will work with this lot," Peggy murmured, wincing as her body ached and throbbed. "They're a nasty bunch. I tried hiding out in Tortuga, and they still managed to take me captive."
"The EITC took you captive?!" Will's eyes widened in shock.
"One of their men got me after Jack left." Peggy mumbled, wrapping an arm around his neck to steady herself as they passed over some uneven terrain, "They have spies in every Port, apparently, even Tortuga. And they've been cracking down on piracy in the past few months. Luckily, Jack left before they could get to the Black Pearl, but the Painted Lady and the Bluebird have been near scuppered, and they've hung most of old McCavendish's crew in Nassau. Something big is going down, William. Whatever they want with you, me and Elizabeth is just the tip of the iceberg."
"And yet you managed to escape? How?"
"Selkie," Peggy grunted. "Also, the storm was a big help. They needed all hands on deck, so my guards were distracted, and everyone was so busy trying to make sure we did not sink that no one noticed me jump until it was too late."
"Of course, you jumped overboard." Will sighed in fond exasperation. "In the middle of a storm, no less. Y'know, I used to think Jack was the crazy one-"
"You're one to talk." Peggy pouted up at him, slapping his chest weakly. "You put a gun to your head to make a bargain with cursed pirates."
"You challenged the captain of said cursed pirates to a one-on-one duel despite knowing you could not beat him because of his invulnerability."
"Yeah, well, you were the one who sprung not one but two escape attempts for the very same pirate who got us mixed up with the cursed pirates in the first place."
"Well, you were the one who – Stay quiet!" he quickly shushed her. They had reached the edge of the vegetation and were right up to the edge of town. From what Peggy could guess, they were not too far from the Forge. So long as they suck through a few of the back streets, they'd be able to slip through the back door, provided Mister Brown was not there to spot them.
"Should be clear to go," Will murmured, ignoring the burn in his arms as he readjusted his grip on Peggy, who quickly pulled his coat above her head to hide her red curls, which had already begun to dry off and regain some of their fire.
Luckily for them, all they met along the way was a stray cat, for barely anyone, save the bakers on the main street, stirred as the dawn brightened from red to a gloomy grey as the rainclouds from the night before pulled in from the sea to strike down upon the land.
Not long before, Peggy found herself at a familiar front door, the first droplets of rain falling in a fine sheet over her and Will, who cursed as he almost slipped on that treacherous middle step.
"Do you think you can stand now?" He asked, and Peggy nodded tiredly.
"I think so. Put me down."
Will nodded, and after making sure she had a wall to lean against, he put her legs down and quickly opened the door.
It took all Peggy had not to weep at the familiar smell of the tiny apartment as Will dragged her up the stairs and into the living space. Mister Brown was nowhere to be seen, but he had been there earlier, as evidenced by a couple of freshly empty rum bottles on the floor by his chair.
"Here, sit. I'll fetch you some of your clothes," Will murmured as he sat her in her favourite chair by the smouldering hearth, onto which he threw a small fresh log to rejuvenate the flame.
"Breeches," Peggy muttered as he left to go into her room. "I need my breeches."
"Got it" Will nodded dutifully from the depths of her room. Peggy did not know whether she had the strength to peek inside. From the looks of things, hardly anything had changed. No, scratch that; it looked nearly the same as when she had left it six months ago, if perhaps a little messier in the sink. There was even her favourite shawl over the back of her favourite chair. Quickly, she shed Will's coat to wrap the familiar brown cloth around her shoulders, inhaling deeply.
For some reason, it smelled different. It had lost her usual scent of soap and lye. Instead, it reeked of warm musk and sweat. Very familiar sweat…and soot.
Will's scent. She realised with a jolt. Had he been using it to keep warm at night? If so, why was it on her chair?
But no…her heart sank as her eyes drifted to the table. This was no longer her chair. Now that she thought about it, this was technically no longer her home, and in a few hours, it would no longer be Will's home either. Peggy did not think Governor Swann would approve of his beloved daughter living in a hovel like this after being born to a life of fine silks and pearls.
Maybe I shouldn't have come here. She thought, tears springing to her eyes. If everything reminds me of a past I cannot return to…or a future I can never have.
But then she thought about her father, of Jack, of the EITC, and all those armed men headed towards them right now. No…she would never have been able to forgive herself if she had left Will in the lurch like this. Whatever heartbreak he had caused her, he was still her dearest friend.
Her fingers grazed something as she tried to rest her arms on the table, and she quickly looked down to see a book with a brown leather cover open, with a stick of graphite and a stick of chalk tucked into the nook between the pages.
Peggy recognised it at once as Will's journal. She had gifted it to him on his last birthday so that he could sketch down his ideas for his blacksmithing work in the forge. He sometimes used it to sketch if he was bored in the evenings.
Despite their rough upbringing, Will and Peggy shared a great love for art. Often, they loved sneaking a peek into other jewellers and craftsman's workshops to look at their work and their practice, and the few times artists and painters were in town to paint landscapes of the beauty of Port Royal, the two of them would often try and catch a peek of them at work. Peggy could hardly draw to save her life but appreciated it all the same. Will, however, had taken his talent and run with it.
He would never be one of the great masters, but he had enough talent to draw from life and make exciting designs for his craft. For him, sketching was not just a hobby but also an integral part of his job. As an apprentice blacksmith, it had been one of his dreams to become the master of his forge and sell work of his designs under his name.
Peggy smiled as she spotted a few pretty designs for jewellery and ornate sword hilts, with many notes scribbled in the blacksmith's familiar chicken-scratch handwriting. If ever he had the chance to make any of these, they would be beautiful works of art.
Then her eyes drifted to the other page where a portrait in graphite had taken up the entire blank space. It was…it was a portrait of her.
It was just of her head and shoulders, sitting at a three-quarter angle with a small smile and her hair over one shoulder in a plait. From what she could see of the little bit of shoulders he had drawn, she was not wearing anything, but that was only because Will had not bothered to draw them in. His focus had only been on her neck, face, and hair. He had even remembered to pencil in all her freckles in the right spots and added a dark patch behind her ear where her birthmark was. He had even included the small wild wisps of curls that escaped the plait.
It was an eerily good likeness of her, though Peggy felt he had embellished it a little and made it look a lot prettier than it should have been. What stumped her the most was the small scribble he had written in the corner of the page under the date, which, to her surprise, had only been yesterday.
My Peggy.
"I managed to find your old breeches." Will puffed as he exited her room and quickly pulled her up to stand. "I put them out on your bed, so get changed quick, and I'll see if I can find us a horse."
"A horse? Since when do you ride?" Peggy's eyes snapped away from the drawing of herself, cheeks slightly pink.
"E-Elizabeth has been teaching me." Will blushed, feeling his cheeks heat up with embarrassment as he realised what she was looking at. "I'm not too good, but I can get around town much faster. And I have been teaching her how to use a sword. Don't worry. I…I never let her use your practice sword! I know you don't like people touching your stuff." He added quickly, though his voice trailed off.
"…oh…right…well…that's uh…handy." Peggy mumbled as she got to her feet. "Oh…right here's your…your coat." She handed him his long blue velvet coat. "Th-thanks for letting me-"
"It's no problem." Will coughed as he gingerly reached out to take it. "I…I couldn't let you freeze to death."
His breath stuttered slightly as his fingers accidentally brushed the back of her hand. Peggy gulped at the all-too-familiar touch of the rough callouses on his thumb as it unconsciously stroked her skin.
"I should…I should change," She mumbled, letting go of the garment and pulling her hands back. Yet even as she passed, she accidentally tripped over her feet and almost bumped into him.
"S-sorry!" Peggy faltered as she felt his hand grab her by the shoulder, steady her, and pull her back upright.
"No-don't I was in the way." He quickly dusted her off, his hand reaching up to tuck a curl behind her ear.
Peggy found her eyes drawn like a magnet to Will's gaze. There was the usual worry in those brown eyes, but something else in those depths she had never seen before. It seemed almost sad and yet at the same time so warm and…
And before she knew what the other thing was, he glanced down at his toes.
There was an awkward pause as they stood there, mouths opening and closing as they tried to find the right words.
But for some reason, the words got stuck in both their throats.
What is wrong with me? They thought as Will silently stepped aside to allow Peggy access to her old room.
Six months ago, they would have been so easily riffing on one another by now. Peggy would have teased him about how bad his sense of direction was and how bad he was with horses, and he would have countered by stating she was just jealous because he would now be faster than her at errands.
But now…now there was something in the air between them that was strangely charged, as if a field of static electricity lay between them.
I don't have time for this! Peggy sucked in a deep breath as she opened the door to her room and shut it quickly behind her, missing the stricken expression on the blacksmith's face as he watched her vanish from sight.
Her room was just the same as it had been on the day of Jack's execution. Her books were on her bedside table, stacked and ready to be read, though Will or someone had rearranged some of the titles to dust beneath them. Her bed was neatly made and had laid down upon it one of Will's old shirts and breeches he used to wear when he had been fifteen, which he had given to Peggy to wear whenever they decided to spar with one another in the forge. He had also laid out her boots, a fresh shift and one of her stays for her, much to her gratitude and confusion.
She looked around and found that her chest of clothes was open, and several garments had hastily moved around inside.
Had he been cleaning her clothes while she was away? Peggy blushed at the thought of Will touching her undergarments as she pulled on her stays over the fresh shift, relishing in their familiarity. Now that she thought about it, they were clean and smelled fresh of soap.
Did he hire someone to clean her clothes? Did one of their neighbours offer to do it for him? Will was a decent man who would not do anything vulgar to a woman's belongings, but Peggy could not imagine he would have had time to clean her things when he had a wedding to Elizabeth to be planning along with his work in the forge.
Yet how could he know where and how she kept all her clothes if he did not go through them? And why on earth would he keep her stuff clean in the first place when he did not know if she would ever come back?
But the biggest surprise came when she stepped out of the room, her fingers deftly tucking her now plaited hair under a shoddy hat, only to yelp as a pair of solid arms suddenly wrapped around her waist from behind.
"Will!" She blushed as she felt his hot breath by her ear.
"Sorry," Will mumbled, not sounding sorry at all. His chest against her back was burning like a furnace. "I just thought you might want this too."
She looked down at her waist as something tugged tight around it and blinked.
It was a blue sash with a white wave print, with one end slightly torn.
"This is…"
"The sash Jack got you when we first docked at Tortuga," Will murmured as he finished tying the knot, his hands resting around her stomach as he leaned his cheek against the side of her head.
"You…You kept it…you kept all of this all this time?"
"It felt wrong to throw it all away."
"But once you got married to Elizabeth-"
"I would have brought it all with me," Will murmured, nuzzling his nose into her hair. "I couldn't just throw it away. It would be like throwing you away. And I could never do that. Not to you of all people."
You already did. Peggy wanted to shout at him, but the words were stuck in her chest.
"You…" She gulped, trying to pull his grip from her waist. "You shouldn't say stuff like that. People might get the wrong idea-"
"What people?" Will's hold on her tightened as if afraid she would vanish from sight like a magician. "It's just us here-"
"I know, but if someone-"
"Who Peg? Who's going to see us in here?" Will rested his chin on her shoulder. "Besides, home hasn't been the same since you left. I've…I've missed you." he gave her a small peck on the side of her temple, much to her torn heart's dismay.
"And…and I've missed you too, Will." She shut her eyes as she felt his nose nuzzling against her hairline. "But this isn't…what you're doing right now is wrong."
"Why? It's just us. How is this any different to how we were before?"
"You're getting married, William." Peggy snapped, again trying to back away, but Will kept a tight grip on her, his brows knitted in confusion. "You're going to marry Elizabeth like you always wanted. What would she think if you hauled another woman's items into your marital home?"
"She would have understood." Will shrugged. "Besides, you're the only family I have. And she'll bring things her family left for her into our home; why shouldn't I bring some of mine into the mix."
"There's a difference between a few familial keepsakes and hauling the entire contents of another woman's room, Will," Peggy growled. "We're not blood relatives. No matter how much we care about one another, we're not related by blood. What would people think?"
"Do you honestly think that after all we've been through, I care about what a bunch of fussy, pampered, prissy aristocrats thought about me?" Will grunted, and Peggy groaned.
"Let me rephrase that: what would your wife think, William? Hmm? How would she feel giving up space in her new home for the belongings of another woman?"
"But you're not another woman. You're…you're Peggy. You're my Peggy. Elizabeth would understand once I have explained it to her," Will muttered stubbornly. "Besides, I've made plenty of sacrifices for her these past six months; I'm sure it won't kill her to put aside a little space in our new home for things that are important to me."
Peggy blinked in astonishment. Was it just her, or did Will sound slightly bitter?
Now that she had considered it, he seemed relaxed about the fact that he would not be making it to the wedding ceremony on time. The William Turner she had left behind six months ago would have been frantically twitchy and nervous about making Elizabeth wait for him and would have demanded to be at the wedding venue early just in case.
But this William Turner that held her…He seemed so calm and dismissive about it all.
Calm and weirdly stubborn? Well, he had always been stubborn, but this was different. He was being stubborn about the wrong thing!
Why was he being so obstinate? Could he not see how strange this would look to other people? How odd it would look to Elizabeth, to whom he had declared his love in front of everyone so boldly?!
She did not know whether to be angry at his acting so clingy when he had tossed her aside or blush at his endearing and affectionate tone.
"My Peggy." He had called a selfish child with his favourite toy. He'd never called her that before, nor had he ever been this possessive; just what had happened to him in these last few months to make him this attentive towards her and so dismissive of his future wife?
Unbidden, a tiny snide voice in her mind could not help but sneer with victory at the idea of her belongings in Will and Elizabeth's new home. Even when the devil took Peggy, she would always be there, haunting Elizabeth like a ghost, reminding the noblewoman of her importance in Will's life and the mark she would leave on it till his dying day. A mark even perfect, Elizabeth would never be able to erase.
No! I can't think like that! She shook herself off. That was so wretched and so vindictive. Where had that awful thought come from?
"Peggy? Peg, what's wrong?"
She felt so torn as Will reached to cup her cheek in his hand, his thumb stroking her cheek as he leaned in to try and meet her eye. He was so close she could almost taste his breath on her lips.
This…wasn't right. She was supposed to vanish into thin air, and that would be that. She would have just been a memory for him to tell his children and grandchildren—their crazy aunt Peggy, who sailed into the sunset to be a pirate.
But here she was, in their home after six months, and he had kept it all the same? And he was treating her so tenderly as if no time had passed. As if it were just them in their house as it always had been, them together, with no pirates and no EITC to-
"Shit! The EITC!" She cursed, leaping away from Will. "Will we need to move? Now! NOW!" she shouted, and Will blinked as he seemed to snap back to reality.
"R-right!" he spluttered, shaking himself off. "Right! Of course, come on!"
He grabbed her by the hand and dragged her down the stairs and back outside, tugging the door shut before darting into the forge.
"Will!" she hissed.
"You need a sword!" Will grunted as he rushed to one of the sword racks. He tossed a blade at her, which she sheathed in her sash, just as he took his own and strode towards the back door.
Yet even as they opened the back door, they heard the distant shouts of men and the marching of many boots.
"Quickly!" Will pushed her out the back door, shutting it behind them as they heard a distant banging and a shout for Will to open his door in the name of the King.
"Talk about timing!" Peggy puffed as a heavy downpour from above suddenly drenched them.
"This way!" Will dragged her along the alleyway, ducking and hunching for cover behind a few crates as they heard several booted feet pass their hiding spot. Yet even as they ducked under the threshold of a nearby doorway, a gust of wind blew suddenly in their faces, blowing Peggy's hat from her head and right back into the main street behind them, where it hit the booted foot of an officer.
Peggy cursed as she heard the man's distant shout ring through the alleyway behind them, alerting his fellow officers.
"Come on!" Will's grip on her hand tightened as they flew around a corner and then another, Peggy stumbling and tripping on the wet road as a shot rang behind them.
Luckily, it missed them both, but it was enough to spook Will, whose desperate strides became too long for Peggy to keep up with.
With a cry, she slipped and slid on the cobblestones, landing painfully on her knees as her hand detached from Will's.
"Peg!" Will darted back to pull her up to stand, only to slip, and his foot slid across the smooth patch on the ground.
With a groan, he found himself half draped over Peggy, who was struggling to push herself to her feet as many feet thundered behind them.
"There they are! Surround them!"
Will swore loudly, grabbing Peggy desperately under the arms and hoisting her back to her feet only to reel back as a musket on the end of a rifle suddenly appeared before his eyes.
Peggy gasped as she gripped for purchase on Will's coat. Within moments of their spill onto the floor, they had been surrounded by red-coated officers, all of whom were pointing their guns at them, ready to strike.
"Ahh, Mister Turner. There you are! We have been looking all over for you." A voice called, and Peggy scowled as a handsome, fair-haired man with light green eyes and a dark green coat stepped out of an alleyway with two pairs of iron cuffs. "We called upon you at your residence, but you were nowhere to be found. I'm so glad we caught up with you before you could get far. My employer is most interested in meeting you."
"I am afraid your employer will have to wait his turn. As you probably know, I have important matters to deal with, mister…?" Will clipped, pushing Peggy behind him to shield her from the view of the man.
"Sloane. Ronan Sloane." Sloane smirked. "And yes, I know you are supposed to be on your way over to complete your nuptials. Please accept my congratulations to you and your lovely fiancé, as belated as they may be, and please also accept my humblest apologies. I have been burdened with the unfortunate task of apprehending you and your lovely friend behind you. Hello again, Miss Margaret." He waved to Peggy, who seethed as his eyes twinkled in her direction, "I am glad to see you alive and well after your unfortunate little spill overboard last night. You gave us all quite the fright."
"Good, that was the point." Peggy snapped, ignoring Will's look of confusion between her and Sloane, who chuckled and sighed as he handed the two pairs of iron cuffs to an officer each.
"Ahh, dear me. While I am growing rather fond of your feistiness, Miss Margaret, I recommend not fighting back this time, if only for the sake of your friends. You cannot help their cause if you are accidentally hurt in a scuffle."
Will blanched at the threat, nostrils flaring, but Peggy quickly gripped his hand in hers tight.
"Don't let him ruffle you." She hissed. "He enjoys getting a rise out of people."
Will's scowl fell to a disgruntled grimace as he looked back at Sloane.
Something about him seemed off. Will was not quite sure he could pinpoint the exact cause of his discomfort. Was it his eyes? Or the genuinely concerned way he spoke to Peggy? Whatever it was, it made Will's stomach churn and his gut bristle.
It eerily reminded him of whenever he used to look at Barbossa or the cursed crew of the Pearl—that strange feeling of something otherworldly or not quite human sat deep in his gut.
Whatever it was, Will did not have time to process it any further as two men stepped forward to put both him and Peggy in cuffs.
At first, he wanted to struggle, but feeling Peggy's hand in his again was enough to keep him grounded. No. She was right. They were outgunned and outmanned. If they resisted arrest, it would only worsen the case against them when facing their judgement and probably get Peggy hurt, and she barely had much strength left to stand as it was.
"Thank you." Sloane sighed in relief as the locks on the selkie and the blacksmith's cuffs were secured snugly around their wrists. "I did not want to resort to violence. Especially not in front of a lady-"
"Bullshit! You had no trouble using it before in Tortuga." Peggy snorted under her breath.
"That was my associate, my dear. Not me. And I assure you he was punished most heavily for his crimes." Sloane tutted as he reached forward to take her gently by the arm. "Now, if you wouldn't mind, we have a carriage waiting for you both, and I don't know about you two, but I really would like not to catch my death from the cold."
"Not so fast, Sloane!" a man called, and Peggy stiffened as the scarred face of Mercer stepped out from the shadows, dressed in a dour ensemble of plain black. "Lord Beckett has changed his orders. You are to oversee preparations for his lodgings at the Company Headquarters. I will bring Mister Turner and Lady Margaret to him in your stead."
"And take all the credit for it, I don't doubt." Sloane rolled his eyes at his older colleague, who sneered.
"Oh, don't worry. I will mention your enthusiasm and contribution to today's events."
"Sure you will. Sure."
Peggy found herself smirking as she was led into the nearby carriage, standing in wait for Will and her. It was the first time since she had met Sloane that he had ever looked truly peeved.
Indeed, his gaze after her was a strange mix of worry and disdain for Mercer, who smiled unsettlingly wide as he shut the door in the younger man's face.
"Lady Margaret?" Will whispered at Peggy, who sighed.
"Don't ask."
Elizabeth stared at the assembly of noblemen and women huddled under cover of the church's awning, all whispering and muttering in frantic confusion as many soldiers and officers pushed them back.
What was going on? First, this disastrous storm had rolled in and ruined all the wedding preparations, and soldiers had all but swept through Port Royal, disturbing the peace. To top it all off, William had not shown up at their wedding venue. He was supposed to be there early to greet guests, but no, her father, the Governor, had been forced to intervene on their behalf.
And now, here was the navy storming in, ruining all their carefully laid plans and arrangements without a care in the world for the destruction left behind in their wake.
"What is the meaning of this?!" she barked as she hitched up her drenched wedding dress of golden silk and stormed up the steps, only to gasp as the soldiers parted to form a path for her.
In their midst, led by armed redcoats on either side, was William, dressed in his blue coat and gold silk vest. His hat was askew, and his face was stony as he looked down at the manacles on his hands.
"Will!" She dashed up to him, grabbing his hands. "Why is this happening?"
"I-I don't know." Will's face relaxed upon seeing her. "You look beautiful."
Despite the dire circumstances, Elizabeth blushed and smiled at the compliment. She had been up since the crack of dawn getting dressed by her lady's maid and until the downpour, everything from the flowered veil in her hair and the brooch on her waist, was polished and perfect. Elizabeth had never felt more beautiful and happy in her life, and yet…yet that moment of happiness had been taken away so rudely.
"I-It's bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding." She mumbled sadly.
Will opened his mouth to answer, only to pause as a voice snarled behind him.
"Stop it! I can walk for myself!"
Elizabeth gasped, her eyes bulging out of her sockets, as another figure, also in chains, was pushed roughly to stand by Will's side. It was a woman with a freckled face and grey-blue eyes wearing oversized men's clothes with a blue sash around her waist. Her long, damp red curls were tied in a thick plait over her shoulder.
"Peggy?!" Elizabeth stared at her old friend in shock. What was she doing here? Wasn't she supposed to be sailing the oceans with Jack? She had been branded a pirate, so what was she doing in Port Royal where she could have been hung? Was that why Will was in chains? Had he been secretly harbouring her despite knowing of her status?
But no, that couldn't be right, Elizabeth thought wildly. Will would have told her if Peggy had come back. Though he was doing much better these days, it was clear that he missed the young Selkie woman. If she had returned to town earlier, he would never have been able to shut up about it.
Then again, Elizabeth always told herself she had to understand his grief. Peggy was the only real family Will had, almost like a sister. Elizabeth had never had siblings; her mother had died before she could give her father another child, so she knew she would never understand the pain of one's family leaving her like how Peggy had done. She and Will had lived together and grew up together; it stood to reason he would miss her terribly and worry for her safety now she was living the dangerous life of a pirate. Still, the way he moped around and brooded when he thought no one else was watching...
"Hey Lizzy." Peggy smiled tiredly at her old friend, grey-blue eyes softening as she looked the drenched bride-to-be up and down. "I'm so sorry about all this. I would have dressed better to attend, but these fine fellows would not have given me the time."
"What happened? What are you doing here? Where is…you know who?" Elizabeth mumbled the last few words, glancing back over her shoulder to where she could see the ocean view.
"Oh, him? He's fine." Peggy rolled her eyes, growling as a very young officer tried to pull her back roughly. "Oy! Don't you know it's rude to touch a lady without her consent?!"
The young man backed off, shrinking in on himself as Peggy and Will both shot him a nasty glower.
"Jokes aside, Lizzy, I'm truly sorry about all this. I tried to get here earlier to warn you, but-"
"Warn us? About what?"
Peggy opened her mouth to explain, only to fall silent as a dark figure began stalking towards them from the side to stand with his back towards them.
It was a short man, barely taller than Peggy, with a white powdered wig and a bicorn hat. He wore a cloak to protect his dark brown coat and vest from the rain, his clothes so primly tailored to his shape, making him look regal despite his shorter stature. He looked out over the ruined wedding venue as rain lashed down from above, framing him in an almost sinister light.
Elizabeth looked back at Peggy, whose face had turned the colour of chalk upon seeing the man.
Just what was going on here?
"Make way! Let me through!" Another voice yelled, and Peggy clapped her mouth shut as Governor Swann blustered with indignance through the crowd of confused guests and grim officers.
"How dare you!" he scoffed as a pair of pikes barred him from seeing his daughter. "Stand down, your men at once. Do you hear me?!" He called to the man in the black cloak, who turned around on his heel to allow an officer to remove it from his shoulders.
"Governor Swann, it's been too long." He drawled.
Will frowned at the sight of the man. He had been expecting a very severe-looking creature with a forbidding countenance. Instead, he only saw a clean-shaven, cold-faced man with a slight, smug smirk. But his eyes…his eyes were strangely familiar…both grey blue like cloudy skies -
"Cutler Beckett?" Governor Swann frowned in confusion at the man.
"It's Lord now, actually." Lord Cutler Beckett smiled with cold pleasantry and nodded to the two officers to raise their pikes and allow him through.
"Lord or not, you have no reason and no authority to arrest this man or this woman-" Governor Swann faltered as he caught sight of Peggy's face. "Peggy Blake?! What-How? What on Earth are you doing here?"
"An excellent question, Governor." Beckett's eyes hardened like swords upon Peggy's face, and Will wondered as she looked down at her toes like a scolded child. "One, my dear Margaret, will only be too happy to answer, I am sure."
"Peggy, what is he talking about?" Will looked at Peggy wildly. "Peg? Look at me. What's going on?"
Yet even as she looked up at him, Will froze.
Her eyes…her grey-blue eyes that had haunted his dreams and waking moments every day for the past six months? How could he have not seen it…
"No…no, it can't be…" Will turned back to Beckett with dawning horror. No…this man could not be her…he just couldn't…
Yet the longer he looked, the more he seemed to see. It was not so apparent at first, especially with the vivid, bright tones of Peggy's hair and the pallid, freckle-free complexion of the man. Still, their sneers of disdain for one another were nearly identical, down to how their hands flexed by their sides and ground their teeth behind pursed lips.
It almost made Will ill seeing it up close like this. He could only imagine how heartbroken Peggy must have been at the discovery.
"Well, Margaret, I'm waiting for an answer." Beckett clipped tersely after a tense pause.
"What can I say, Father? I was so excited to share the news I just had to rush ahead and tell my dear friends of your early wedding present." Peggy sneered at her father, who bristled at her sarcastic tone.
"Father?!" Elizabeth and Governor Swann stared in shock as many people around them, wedding guests and navy officers alike, bristled anxiously on their feet at the revelation.
Will could see that though the rest of his face seemed calm, the man had a small ticking vein by his left temple, not too dissimilar from the one Peggy often got when trying to hold back her temper. However, unlike the red-haired selkie, Beckett had far better control of his emotions as he sucked in a deep soothing breath and slipped the professional mask back over his face.
"I'll deal with your impudence later." He muttered, clicking his fingers, "As for Mister Turner's arrest, Governor Wann, I think you'll find I have valid reason and authority to make such an arrest. Mister Mercer." He called, and Will stiffened as the scarred face of Mister Mercer suddenly slunk out from the shadows by Peggy's elbow, a leather dossier in his arms.
He opened it for his Lord, who took a sheet of paper from the top of the neat pile and handed it to the Governor.
"The warrant for the arrest of one William Turner."
Governor Swann took the paper tremblingly and frowned in confusion as he read its contents.
"This…This warrant is for Elizabeth Swann."
"Is it? That's annoying, my mistake." Beckett smirked, not sounding even remotely sorry as he waved his hand dismissively at the young noblewoman. "Arrest her too."
"On what charges?!" Elizabeth demanded as two men came up behind her to roughly pull her away from Will's side before either he or her father could stop them.
But Beckett did not seem to care enough for their distress as he pulled out another sheet of paper, reading it carefully to avoid making another 'mistake'.
"Ah, and here's the one for William Turner." He handed it to the Governor to take as if he were some glorified secretary before holding up another third sheet of paper. "And I have another one for a Mister James Norrington. Is he present?"
Peggy sighed in relief. Thank God she had asked Annamaria to take Norrington in that night. Who knew what Becket would have done to him if Sloane had found him?
"What are the charges?!" Elizabeth demanded as two men roughly handcuffed her, but her father cut across her.
"Commodore Norrington resigned his commission some months ago."
"That wasn't the answer to the question I asked." Beckett clipped.
"Lord Beckett!" Will snapped angrily. "In the category of questions not answered-"
"We are under the jurisdiction of the kings' governor of Port Royal, and you will tell us what we are charged with." Elizabeth finished with all the regalness and fury of a tiger, which, when coupled with Peggy's icy glower, was almost enough to make half the men around them shrivel like wilted leaves.
"The charge," Governor Swann swallowed down the tremor of dismay in his voice as he read the charges from the warrants, "-Is conspiring to set free a man convicted of crimes against the Crown and Empire and condemned to death, for which the…the…"
"For which the punishment, regrettably, is also death." Beckett finished with a smirk as he leaned into Will's personal bubble. "Perhaps you remember a certain pirate named Jack Sparrow-"
"Captain!" Will, Elizabeth and Peggy all snapped in unison, much to the dismay of the Governor.
"Captain Jack Sparrow," Elizabeth said fiercely, remembering how those kohl-lined brown eyes had twinkled mischievously at her all those months ago. Try as hard as she might; forgetting that man in a hurry was difficult.
"Captain Jack Sparrow." Beckett sneered with derisive delight. "Yes, I thought you might."
His eyes drifted back to Peggy, her lips curling so that her father and Will could see the hint of a fang in her snarl.
"There's that beastly temper again." Beckett sighed in annoyance under his breath, glancing at Mercer, who had a hand on his hip where he kept his knife sheathed at the ready. "Mister Mercer, please escort my daughter back to my lodgings and settle her in her new rooms. As for Mister Turner and Miss Swann, take them to the cells. Separate cells as far as possible." He added as Will's nostrils flared angrily at him. "It would hardly be appropriate for an unwed man and woman to share a room before their nuptials, would it?"
"No sir, it would not." Mercer agreed as he slithered up to Peggy's side and carefully took her by the arm. "If you would like to follow me, Lady Margaret."
"And what makes you think I want to go anywhere with you, you reptile?"
"You will do as you're told, Margaret!" Beckett clipped, "Your actions have embarrassed me enough for one day."
"Only one day? Shame, I was hoping it would last for a week at least. Clearly, I must put more effort into my endeavours."
"Mister Mercer!" Beckett snapped, and for the first time, Will saw the calm mask slip ever so slightly even as his daughter was dragged off by his clerk.
Why did she have to be so reckless?
And what the hell did someone like Beckett want with Jack Sparrow?
Jack, what have you done?
The night was dark and dreary. The fog was thick and gloomy.
Screams of pain and death echoed over the calm ocean like ghosts on the breeze as many large wooden coffins bobbed along in its deep waters.
On one of these sorry vessels for the dead, a large fat crow decided to perch, its beak thudding on the wood as it greedily searched for more dead carrion meat to feast upon.
KAAAAW! KAAW!
Thump-thump-thump!
Kaaw-Kaaww!
Thump-thump!
BOOM!
There was the flash of something hot and fiery, the screech of a bird and the smattering of feathers.
But Jack Sparrow did not care as he carefully poked the muzzle of his pistol like a periscope out of the lid of his morbid vessel before bursting through the wood with a few hard pushes.
The flimsy lid broke apart so quickly that he was amazed the rest of the coffin had not leaked and filled with water upon being tossed into the ocean.
But somehow, miraculously, he was still floating and sitting on something mightily uncomfortable.
Jack grimaced and quickly dusted off his hat before reaching below his backside to pull out…a bony foot.
"Sorry, mate." He grimaced in disgust at the limb even as he lowered it into the water and began paddling his makeshift coffin canoe.
"Mind if we make a little side trip? No. I didn't think so."
Now, where are you, my lovely lady? Ah…there you are. He sighed tiredly as he caught sight of a silhouette of a black ship with black sails illuminated by the light of the full moon above amidst the fog.
Despite its narrowness, Jack's skeletal foot was not too bad a paddle, and it did not take him long to reach the Black Pearl, where he was greeted by the familiar sight of Gibbs reaching out towards him.
Jack handed his first mate the bony leg while he ascended back to his ship, taking a moment to relish in the feel of the familiar wooden boards beneath his booted feet.
Ahh…now he was home.
"Not quite according to plan." Gibbs grimaced at the limb he had been given.
"Complications arose, ensued and were overcome." Jack nodded in silent thanks to Cotton, who had quickly draped his long dark coat over his shoulders to warm him before sauntering off to check his beloved ship.
Hmm, she seems fine enough. No damage from that storm, then, ey? He mused, barely noticing Gibbs trotting behind him until he was right by his side.
"You got what you went in for then?" Gibbs asked excitedly.
"Mmm-hmm!" Jack nodded, pulling out a wad of rolled-up cloth from the red and white sash around his waist. It had nearly cost him his arm and leg to get hold of it and double that to keep holding onto it, but he had got it, and that was enough for him.
However, it was not enough for his crew, who had all come around the mast with folded arms and expectant scowls as they looked at the 'treasure' in his ringed hands.
Ah…oh dear. Peggy had said they would be like this, didn't she?
Silly girl. How can she be so bright about this lot but stupid about the whelp?
He mused as Gibbs coughed and said as politely as he could manage without letting his desperation show:
"Captain, I think the crew, meanin' me as well, were expectin' somethin' a bit more…shiny. What with the Isla de Muerta goin' pear-shaped, reclaimed by the sea with the treasure."
"And the Royal Navy chasin' us all around the Caribbean an' the Atlantic." One of the crew members, a dark man with a head scarf called Advik, grunted.
"And the Hurricane," Marty added, and there were many 'Aye's' of agreement from the rest of the crew.
"An' where's Peggy got to?" Dewey folded his arms. "She left us at Tortuga, but ye didn't say where she was goin'. Didn't even get to say goodbye." There were many nods again and many dismal expressions as the men looked out at the dark open sea.
"Peggy had her own business to attend to with Captain Labelle, but she is comin' back when she's done, right captain?" Gibbs looked at Jack, who nodded silently. "Right. But all in all, it seems some time since we did a speck of honest pirating."
"…shiny?" Jack quirked a brow at his first mate.
"Aye, shiny."
"Is that how you're all feeling? That perhaps dear old Jack is not serving your best interests as captain?" The crew gave each other uncomfortable looks, but no one said anything.
"Sqwwaaak! Walk the plank!" Cotton's parrot Paulie suddenly screeched from the old pirate's shoulder only to get his owner's hand over his beak as Jack whipped out his pistol to point in its face.
"What did the bird say?!" Jack snarled. That parrot was an annoying little titch. Unfortunately, he was also very useful to the crew. Without him, Cotton could not communicate, and he also made a pretty good watchdog for passing ships.
"Do not blame the bird," Advik said sternly, his eyes drifting to the wad of cloth in Jack's hand. "Show us what is on that piece of cloth there-aahhh!"
He leapt back as something skeletal and hairy with a long, prehensile tail suddenly jumped down from high above and screeched in their faces.
Curses! Jack had forgotten about that damned stupid monkey (who, by courtesy of Barbossa's vindictive version of paying homage, was also called Jack). He had thought he had left him behind to sink with the Isla de Meurta, but somehow, on the day after Peggy had left Jack at Tortuga, it had found its way back to the Pearl.
No one knew how or where it had come from or how it was still undead. Had it swallowed one of those cursed pieces of gold? Whatever the cause of its undead condition, Jack did not want to know, nor did he care. Jack the Monkey was a menace, one he, Jack the Sparrow, would do everything he could to destroy or get rid of.
Jack yelped in surprise as the damn thing swiped the cloth from his hand, his pistol whipping out to shoot the unholy, undead primate only to have the gunpowder spark, but no bullet came out.
Damn! He must have used up all his shots.
Quickly, he reached for Dewey's gun from his belt and fired at the undead primate, who dropped the cloth with a screech before disappearing up into the ship's rigging.
"You know that don't do no good." Gibbs groaned.
"It does me," Jack grunted. Well, at least the monkey was useful for one thing: target practice.
There was a pause as Marty rushed forward to pick up the cloth from the floor before Jack the monkey could strike again.
"It's…a key?" the short pirate frowned at the crude picture of a key etched into the fabric with dark ink.
A ring with two prongs tipped with jagged teeth.
It was ugly, almost archaic, and the old dried bloodstains on the fabric it was drawn on did not ease the crew's concerns about it at all.
"No! Much more better!" Jack grinned as he darted forward to take back his prize. "It is a drawing of a key."
There was silence as the crew of the Black Pearl stared at Jack, their faces blank and expectant, as if the joke's punchline had just fallen flat.
Philistines. Pegsy would've understood in a flash.
Jack grumbled in his head and sucked in a deep breath to steady himself.
"Gentlemen, what does a key do?"
"Keys…unlock things?" Advik ventured a guess, glancing at his fellow pirates for a clue and getting nothing.
"And whatever this key unlocks inside, there's somethin' valuable." Gibbs's eyes brightened as understanding dawned him "So we're setting out to find whatever this key unlocks."
"No!" Jack grinned, much to the bewilderment of everyone once more "If we don't have the key, we can't open whatever we don't have that it unlocks. So what purpose would be served in finding whatever need be unlocked, which we don't have, without first having found the key what unlocks it?"
"So…we're goin' after this key!" Gibbs grinned.
"You're not making any sense at all." Jack shook his head, and Gibbs's face fell as everyone once more frowned and was puzzled over their captain's confusing language. "Any more questions?!"
"So…do we have a heading?" Marty dared ask.
"Ah, a heading!" Jack quickly pulled out his compass and looked at the needle, oddly spinning around a lot more than usual. "Set sail in a…uh…general…" The crew followed the direction of his finger as it swerved this way and that in the air as if trying to follow a fly before settling in jerky fashion to the south.
"In that way direction! I think," the captain added in a mumble that only Gibbs and Marty heard due to how close they were standing.
"Captain?" Gibbs asked, concerned, only to get waved off dismissively.
"Come on, snap to and make sail. You know how this works. Go on. Oy-oy! Oy!" Jack swatted away his men to cut a path through them to his cabin.
Yet even as he closed the door behind him, Gibbs could have sworn he had seen a very confused and desperate look on the Captain's face as he looked down at the strange compass in his hand again.
This was not normal. Jack might sometimes bumble and have funny turns, but he was never this distracted. And the compass had never acted up like this before.
"You heard the captain! Set sail due south!" Gibbs barked, straightening up and heading over to stand by the ship's port railing.
Marty followed him closely, doing his best to copy his relaxed attitude, but Gibbs could see the worried crease in the shorter man's brow as he joined him at the railing.
"Have you noticed lately, the captain seems to be acting a bit strange…er. And this was before Peggy left." He added before Gibbs could comment.
"Aye. Even she noticed it before I did." Gibbs admitted softly so that only Marty could hear, "Settin' sail without knowin' his own heading. Somethin's got Jack vexed, and mark my words, what bodes ill for Jack Sparrow bodes ill for us all."
The captain's cabin was dark and cold.
Thunder rumbled outside as yet another storm rolled over the ocean, the flashes of lightning illuminating the pipes of the giant oceanic organ that grew into the very hull of the ship.
The Devil of the Deep sat at the seat of the pipe organ, panting as he raised his tentacles and hands from the instrument's keys.
Soon, he mused to himself in his head. Soon, it would be time to collect on two of his debts.
Two fools who dared think they could pull the wool over his eyes were finally going to find their reckoning by his hand.
It was palpable, exciting. It was not often he had to deal with such disobedience and defiance. Though he liked to run a tight ship, the Devil did like to play with his food.
It was one of the decades of service to the mast worth it.
He glanced over his shoulder at a small chest of dark wood decorated in seashells in a small corner of the room. As promised, he had kept its contents safe and never touched them, not even to look, and boy, had he been tempted to look. Who wouldn't be?
That treasure was more valuable than any coin of gold or jewel of the sea. None like it could be found any more. It was the last of its kind, just like its true owner. But she'd never have it—not until the day she finished her sentence, and that was many days away.
One of the tentacles on his face reached in to look at a thin cord on which a couple of keys were attached. One was the key to the small seashell chest, made from silver forged in the bottom of the sea. The grip was shaped like a clam seashell, and the pin at the end was shaped like a trident. The three prongs of the key fit into the three holes in the front of the chest.
The other key was old and rusted and made of iron. It had a circular ring at the top with two thin prongs ending in gnarled teeth at the end. No one knew where it had come from or who had made it or the thing it unlocked. It was ancient and old even when the Devil had first acquired it. But looks were deceiving, and this key was more powerful than most of the mystical trinkets he had collected over the years in his travels.
The Devil tucked the two keys away as he looked up at the stained glass behind the pipe organ keys. A beautiful woman's face stared at him from within the glass pattern, her eyes flashing with a tempest of fury, yet her mouth was smiling and serene.
She nurtured and yet destroyed, was possessive but fickle, violent yet sweet, changing yet ever strong, and always interfering.
The Devil sighed as his hands rose to the keys of his pipe organ. If he had a heart, it would have ached at the sight of her face, for it reminded him too much of her.
But he didn't.
So instead, he played, his fingers and tentacles caressing each key with such force that the sound almost bellowed from the pipes above, filling the space and beyond with such music that not even the ocean's roar could drown him.
But she would never drown him.
No.
Not when she loved him so.
Not when he had bound her so she could never truly leave him.
She was his. And yet, even now, she sought to interfere with his plans.
But she would not.
The Devil of the Deep would make sure of that.
Notes:
TADAA! Finally, here we are! The filler chapters are over, and we're at the beginning of Dead Man's Chest!
So yeah, Peggy and Will have reunited, and they and Elizabeth have all been captured by Beckett. Jack's started his chase for the chest, and the "Devil" is counting down the days until he collects on his debts.
To quote Kronk from Emperor's New Groove: "Oh yeah, it's all coming together."
As usual, let me know if you guys enjoyed via fave, follow or review (or all three at once *wink-wink-nudge-nudge)
Looking forward to writing more soon.
Thanks
FuzzyBeta
Chapter 17: A Gentleman's Business
Summary:
"Keep a weather eye on the horizon."
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Peggy sat on the plush bed, staring blankly at the room around her.
This was a beautiful room, to be sure. A comfortable bed decked out in the finest silk and linens, with a headboard and frame made from the finest wood. Gauzy curtains hung around her, blocking the flies from entering and bothering her sleeping space.
In one corner of the room, there was a small but ornate writing desk, bookshelves, and a wardrobe along the other wall. Before the bed, in a massive open space, there was a small circular table with a couple of chairs and a chaise.
It was the perfect room for a young lady of noble birth, but Peggy would prefer to sleep in her tiny nook on the Pearl. She missed the firm mattress with the dip in the right spot and the smell of the ocean outside her window as the waves gently rocked the ship like a cradle.
This was too soft. Too cushy…too lavish.
It was a perfect prison for someone like her, and Peggy had been a resident of a few brigs in her short stint as a pirate.
She grimaced in pain, gripping her right wrist, which was covered in a bandage to hide the painfully tingling mark. It seemed far more agitated for some reason, as if hot knives were poking and cutting into the skin. When she had taken a peek at the mark last night, the ink had somehow seemed a lot darker than before, and was it just her, or had it spread even further through her veins?
But why? What had she done? She still had a few weeks till she had to go back to the Devil.
Or was he just in the mood to torture her further? He always was sadistic.
Well, perhaps that would be preferable to the torment she would face being stuck playing her birth father's prisoner daughter.
She looked down at the dress she now wore. It was made from light blue silk, over which she had tied the blue sash Will had saved around her waist. Mercer, who had been tasked with ensuring her captivity, had practically threatened her into the dress, but she had managed to persuade the maid to let her keep the sash. However, they had to tie it in a feminine bow around her waist to make it work with the whole ensemble.
Now, all Peggy had to do was sit and wait till her father called for her like a dog.
She hated it.
She had done a round of her rooms and discovered all the windows had been barred or locked. Not only that, but she had been placed on the third floor of the building, so even if she wanted to get out, she'd have to jump off the balcony or risk climbing down the thin and flimsy-looking ivy that grew along one of the walls outside. Not even she would survive that drop without either killing or maiming herself. The only way in or out was through that front door, and she doubted her guards would let her get the jump on them a second time.
There was a knock on her door, and she quickly looked up, nostrils flaring as she saw Sloane striding in. He was dressed smartly today in a black coat and breeches, a dark turquoise vest, and a small, pleasant smile as he beheld her form.
Well, it would have been pleasant, but to Peggy, the expression almost made her want to throw up. Gods, this man's smile was unflappable. It would have been almost admirable if it were not so irritating.
"My Lady." He smiled, and Peggy bristled at the address. Was he trying to get on her good side now? Good luck with that. "Your father has requested your presence in his study."
"Of course he has." Peggy rolled her eyes as she stood up and dusted off her skirts.
"That dress looks lovely on you." Sloane smiled with genuine admiration as he held out his arm for her to take.
Peggy, however, did not take the preferred limb, choosing instead to glower at it with venom until he hastily dropped it.
"My Lady," He sighed, and for the first time, Peggy swore she saw some exasperation in his green eyes. "I know our first meeting was less than ideal, and I have already apologised for it-"
"And you think an apology will wipe the slate clean by magic?" Peggy grunted mulishly. "You think that kidnapping me and taking me prisoner would not piss me off?"
"My Lady, you are not a prisoner here," Sloane said calmly and patiently as if trying to calm a tantrum-throwing child. "However, given your recent hostile behaviour, my Lord Beckett is forced to take certain measures to ensure your safety-"
"And his." Peggy scoffed.
"-Personally, though, I do not consider you a prisoner." Sloane continued, ignoring her statement. "I understand the circumstances of your return to Lord Beckett's life are rather tumultuous and unfortunate, and I understand your anger. It is more than justified. However, whatever your experiences and feelings about the situation, you are still the lady of this house and-"
"I have a younger sister-"
"She is merely a child." Sloane shook his head "A sweet, lovely child. But a child nonetheless. You are my Lord's eldest, and I shall continue to treat you with the respect you are owed even through your scorn. I only ask that you try to find it in your heart to forgive me. I was only acting on orders." He reached out, and before she could pull away, he picked up her hand, pressed a chaste kiss on her knuckles and offered her a small gentlemanly bow.
"Funny." Peggy grimaced, cursing herself as she felt her cheeks warm slightly. He was persistent she'd give him that. "But how many men have justified their actions by making the same excuse?"
"Too many." Sloane agreed, releasing her hand and offering his arm to her again. "I know you are going through a lot right now, but I was given orders to bring you to your father by whatever means necessary. I'd much rather you come off your volition than force you to submit."
"You think a lot of yourself if you could ever force me." Peggy sniffed but took the proffered limb with a careful grip. "Whatever, I'm too tired to argue with you. Let's get this over and done with. The sooner I talk to my father, the sooner I can get away from the bloody lot of you."
"I don't know about that, my Lady." Sloane grinned as he led her down the corridor. "Something tells me you'll be very interested in what he says today."
Will Turner stared at the door to Lord Cutler Beckett's office.
He had never been to the EITC headquarters of Port Royal before. The building was usually closed off to the public and often left vacant, with minimal staff helping with the upkeep and security. Merchants and officers came and went as businessmen for the company passed through the port, but it lacked the warmth of a constant occupant. Occasionally, you'd hear of a lavish party being held on the premises by one of the merchants from the company, but those were few and far between.
It starkly contrasted with the dreary Fort Charles's cells, where he had spent what was supposed to be his wedding night alone. Poor Elizabeth had been in the cell farthest from him, where he could not see her. Neither had been allowed to change from their wedding attire, though any sharp objects like Elizabeth's hairpins or brooch had been confiscated and returned to her father for fear of being used as a lockpick.
Peggy, meanwhile, had been brought here to the EITC Headquarters. According to the Governor, who had been forced to confer with Lord Beckett about state affairs of Port Royal, Peggy and her sister (since when did she have a sister? Will thought to himself.) were to be given their own suites and ladies maids and was to be treated with the same amount of respect as any other noble-born lady on the island.
Peg must be seething. And poor Elizabeth…she must be so sore after a night in that cell. I hope she hasn't caught a chill or hurt herself. Will mused with a small sigh, only for his ears to perk up as he heard a small mewing from behind him and a young girl's voice call out:
"Orion! No! Don't go under there!"
Will turned his head and was surprised by seeing a young girl, no more than twelve or thirteen years old, kneeling on the floor with her arms stretched under a nearby cabinet that lined the hall. She had long dark brown curlstied in twin braids, one draped over each shoulder andpale skin. She wore a pretty white dress with pink flowers embroidered around the bodice and skirt, the sleeve of which got scratched as she pulled out a very reluctant and enormous fluffy white cat with big yellow eyes. The feline glowered at Will with morose disdain as his young mistress secured him back on a leash made from a long ribbon.
Wait, "Lady" Katrina? This must be Peggy's sister, Will wondered as the young girl's face finally came into view. The first thing Will noticed was the eyes, which were the same shape and blue-grey colour as Peggy's. However, where Peggy was a fierce and wild child, Katrina was far more delicate and innocent-looking. This girl was used to playing with dolls and reading rather than leaping about with a sword and scrubbing dirty linen.
Still, there was some spark in her gaze as she stood to her feet and caught sight of Will and his guards standing by the door. She squinted at him, her eyes flickering with curiosity over his red-coated guards as she tried to discern their purpose.
"Lady Katrina, you should let a servant handle that!" an older woman in a dark red dress, a governess from her looks, chided as she dashed up to the young girl. "You know your father doesn't like you ruining your dresses."
Young Katrina pouted irritably, and Will felt the corners of his mouth twitch upwards in a fond smile. He couldn't help it. The expression was nearly identical to Peggy's when she was that age.
"Come, my dear. Your father said he'll call for you when he's ready." The Governess stiffened upon catching sight of the armed officers and their prisoner.
"But he said my sister Margaret was with him." Katrina looked up pleadingly at her governess. "I still haven't seen her yet! I want to ask her how she managed to survive that storm-"
"I'm sure she'll tell you all about it later. But we must be patient." The Governess sighed tiredly, and Will knew from experience how exhausting it could be herding such a stubborn girl from her goal. "Now come along. We shouldn't be here with this riff-raff."
Will snorted at the woman's disapproving scoff and quickly looked away to avoid her disapproving gaze.
"He doesn't look like riff-raff," Katrina mumbled as she and her cat Orion were escorted away. Glancing back over her shoulder at Will, her curiosity still peaked despite her Governess's best attempts to sneer down her nose at him as if he were a common drunkard off the street.
So, she was one of those noble-born? He supposed it made sense, given the nature of her employer. As for Katrina, she seemed a sweet girl. How a cold man like Lord Beckett produced two such warm and lively girls was a mystery to Will. He vaguely wondered what Peggy would make of her sister. She would not be cruel to the girl he knew, but it had to be awkward meeting a half-sibling from a man who so clearly despised her.
"He's ready for you, " a servant nodded to the officers, and Will's attention was brought back to his situation as he was led through the doors before him.
Lord Beckett's office was a lavish room decorated with many trinkets and works of art. Along one massive wall, a cartographer painstakingly painted a map of the known world on a small ladder. Will almost had to stop to admire the artist's work. It would be an impressive feature wall, to be sure.
However, his attention was drawn to the two figures standing in the room. One was Lord Cutler Beckett, dressed today in another brown ensemble, with his powdered wig pulled back by a black ribbon. The other was Peggy, though she looked far more polished than he had ever seen her.
She wore a pastel-blue silk dress with copper curls pulled back elegantly into a low chignon bun. The blue sash from Tortuga had been tied around her waist in a pretty bow. Over her breast, her silver abalone shell necklace hung, glimmering in the sunlight, along with a small pair of silver and opal studs in her ears. With how straight and proud she stood, he would never have guessed she was once a pirate or a washerwoman.
But her eyes worried Will, for they were bright and wet with unshed tears. The source of her distress became obvious as she looked sidelong at a large picture frame mounted on a standing easel nearby.
Will felt his stomach nearly flip inside out.
Inside the ornate frame, protected by a pane of glass, was a seal skin mounted and pinned on a whiteboard. With its dark chocolate brown fur and cream underbelly, it would have been a beautiful skin. However, nearly a third had been burnt and charred to red and black. It was a beautiful yet terrible sight to behold.
Oh, Peg.
Will quickly looked at Peggy again, cursing his bound hands and his guards as he watched her hiss at her father.
"It belongs to the ocean! You can't keep it like this. It's not right-"
"As her partner and keeper, your mother's property is mine to do with as I see fit. Now compose yourself! We still have business to attend to." Beckett snapped as Mercer slunk from a corner of the room to hand a document over to his master. Will glanced and saw the familiar figure of Sloane standing outside on the veranda, talking with a couple of sailors and officers over a ship's manifest. However, his green eyes flickered worriedly inside towards Peggy's upset face every few seconds.
Why does he care? Will glowered at the man. Just why is he trying to act so familiar with Peggy?
Will felt his stomach broil and bubble angrily. It was worse than when he had to deal with Jack's possessiveness. At least Will knew that Jack had no romantic designs for Peggy. Despite his double-crossing cheating ways, Will could trust the pirate to do right by her when the wind and tides were against them.
But Sloane…Will did not like the way he looked at her at all. Also, he was a member of the EITC, the organisation that had tried to purge and imprison the selkies of the Caribbean. How could Will trust Peggy's safety to such a man who worked for an institution like that?
"The prisoner as ordered, sir." One of Will's guards announced.
"Those won't be necessary." Beckett waved the officers dismissively, not even looking up from the papers Mercer was showing him. "Margaret, you may help Mister Turner settle in if you wish. I will be only a moment."
Peggy did not need to be told twice. It seemed she had been looking for an excuse to get away as fast as possible from the man.
As soon as Will's cuffs had been removed, he and Peggy all but rushed to one another and hugged one another tight.
"I'm fine, Peg. I'm fine." Will assured her as she patted him down for injuries. "How are your bruises?"
"I can barely feel them anymore," Peggy mumbled as she reached up to cup his cheek and inspect his face. I see they were gentler with you than they were with me, " she grumbled.
"Pirate?" Will suggested, and she swatted his chest lightly. Her eyes were still downcast as she glanced over her shoulder at the pelt in the frame.
"Is that…?" Will gulped, and Peggy nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat.
"My mother's pelt…yes," she mumbled, and Will shook his head sadly.
"I'm so sorry, Peg," He whispered, wiping a stray tear from the corner of her eye before it could spill. "He doesn't have your-"
"N-no!" Peggy whispered, putting her fingers to his lips to silence him. "It's safe."
"Good. Good." Will sighed in relief, his smile returning as she fussed over his necktie and hair. He had tried to neaten himself in his cell before leaving, but it was difficult to align everything correctly without a mirror. He felt his heart swell as he watched her chew her bottom lip in concentration.
How he'd missed her fussiness these last few months. It was almost soothing to his anxious nerves.
"There." She muttered, flattening out the lapels of his navy-blue overcoat. "Handsome as ever."
"And you look beautiful." He murmured, tucking a stray curl of copper behind her ear, his knuckle stroking her jawline. "Lady Margaret"
He grinned as Peggy glowered at him stonily.
"Don't you dare," She grumbled, though the effect was ruined by the minor upward quirk of her lips as she joined in his mirth. "I'm serious, Mister Turner. Don't you bloody dare-"
"Dare what, my Lady?" he chuckled as she swatted him again, catching the attention of Beckett, Mercer, and Sloane, who all paused to stare at them in their tasks.
Mercer watched them with narrowed, suspicious eyes like a hawk, looking for any sign of potential trouble. Sloane's smile had frozen, his green eyes betraying his disturbance at seeing the loving gesture between the pair. It made Will smug to see him looking so bothered.
But Beckett's curious gaze unsettled him most of all as he dismissed his two clerks with a wave of his hand.
His face was cold and blank, a mask as ever, but there was a gleam in his eyes not too dissimilar from the one Will had often seen in Jack's eyes when he had spotted an interesting development. It was the spark of a schemer, a plot hatching in the mind of one confident he had all the cards he needed to play and win.
Will loosened his grip on Peggy, who blushed as she noticed her father's stare at their precarious position.
"I see you have managed to make Mister Turner feel warm and welcome, Margaret," Beckett smirked, enjoying his daughter's uncomfortable squirming. "Now, if you would not mind, let him go so we all may discuss business like gentlemen."
Will squeezed Peggy's hand in reassurance as they detached from one another, coughing as they dusted themselves off to make themselves more presentable.
Beckett, meanwhile, had strolled casually over to a drinks cabinet and started pouring two brandy glasses for himself and Will and a glass of water for Peggy.
Of course, Peggy would not get to drink alcohol, scowled to herself. She was a lady. Ladies did not drink brandy during the day, especially not during business meetings, where they were supposed to remain silent and know their place.
Men. She scoffed. Of course, she did not want the drink in the first place, but the principle of the matter bothered her.
"Now that we are all settled." Beckett clipped suddenly business-like as he handed Will a glass of brandy, only for it to be coldly rejected without a word. "Let me start by formally thanking you, Mister Turner."
"Thanking me?" Will quirked a brow.
"Indeed. I have it on good authority that you have been helping look after my daughter Margaret during her time at Port Royal." He gestured to Peggy, who silently took a sip of her water to keep her frayed temper in check. "Indeed, it has been made known to me that you were the one who found her and have protected her from a great deal of dangers, including but not limited to living off the streets."
"While your gratitude is gracious, Lord Beckett, I am afraid I cannot take all the credit." Will glanced at Peggy, his eyes warming considerably. "Peggy is very dear to me and has done much to look after me over the years. Even now, she risked her life and her freedom to warn me of your plans to arrest me. She is a good woman. A good friend." No thanks to you. he wanted to say out loud, but Will felt Beckett could read between the lines as easily as breathing, for his grey-blue eyes hardened ever so slightly.
"Yes. It does take an incredible amount of loyalty to throw yourself off a ship in the middle of a storm to warn a friend." He drawled sardonically, and Will knew the man was wondering if they were talking about the same person, for the glower she fixed the merchant with was nothing short of venomous.
Beckett, however, decided to ignore her ire for once as he took a small sip from his glass and said:
"Well, you may not have known it, Mister Turner, but I have been searching for my eldest daughter for quite some time since she first fell overboard thirteen years ago. It comforts me that she had someone looking after her when I was incapable of doing so. Of course, now that I have found her again, I will take that responsibility off your shoulders."
"Good luck with that." Will snorted, and Peggy bit her lip to stop smirking.
"Yes, well, I'm sure that if a blacksmith's apprentice such as yourself can manage for ten years, then it is possible." Beckett clipped, the vein in his temple ticking briefly as he steadied himself.
"But jokes aside, Mister Turner, I may be a man of duty, but I am not above recognising a good deed when I see it. Yes, you and your fiancé may be facing charges for piracy; however, given your association with my daughter and your role in her life, I am willing to give you and your fiancé a chance to…make amends for your actions."
"Oh? So you plan on releasing Elizabeth as well?" Will frowned.
"That's entirely up to you." Beckett finished his glass of brandy with a small sip.
"Really? Then I'll just pop out and tell the guards to let her go."
"Clarifying, that's entirely dependent on you." Beckett raised his eyebrows at the younger man's cheek. "The East India Trading Company needs your services."
"What is the East India Trading Company doing in the Caribbean?" Will asked with suspicious eyes.
"Well, we are east of India, just the long way around," Beckett smirked like a fisherman, feeling the line tug. "After all, when goods won't cross borders, armies will."
Will stiffened as he glanced at Peggy. She, too, looked tense even as she sidled closer to him, her eyes warily watching her father as he turned his back on them to walk over to the lit hearth and took one of the pokers to prod and turn over a few logs within.
"We wish you to act as our agent in a business transaction with our mutual friend, Captain Sparrow."
"More acquaintance than friend. How do you know him?" Will frowned confusedly.
"We've had dealings in the past, " Beckett said tensely as he turned over the poker in the fire so that the iron turned red. "And we've each left our mark on the other."
Peggy tensed like a bowstring as she saw what was in her father's hands. It was not a poker, but an iron brand…an iron brand in the familiar shape of the letter P.
She felt her blood turn cold. How many times had she seen the burnt skin on Jack's arm in that same shape? To think she'd be standing in the same room as the object that had made such a mark…to believe she was related to the man who had inflicted the wound upon someone so dear to her almost made her want to throw up.
It was only thanks to Will's hand gripping hers that she was able to bring herself back to reality as he said:
"What mark did he leave on you?"
There was a pause in which Beckett put the brand back in its rightful place in the holder, his hand absentmindedly rubbing a spot on his forearm. However, he did not answer Will's question.
Instead, he straightened up and said primly:
"By your efforts, Jack Sparrow was set free. I would like you to go to him and recover a certain property in his possession."
"Recover." Will sniffed "at the point of a sword?"
"Bargain." Beckett put his empty glass down on the table.
"If you wish to bargain with Jack Sparrow, then you'd be better off sending Peggy to do it." Will snorted. "She knows him better than you or I. And he trusts her-"
"I am afraid that is no longer an option." Beckett's smile became cold as his gaze flickered to Peggy, whose nostrils flared. "You see, Mister Turner, Margaret is no longer a pirate. She is my daughter. And as my daughter, she must uphold her duties to her father and her family. As I have no sons to carry on my name or legacy, I must secure my family line however I can. And Margaret must help me by preparing herself for marriage."
"You snivelling son of a sea biscuit," Peggy growled, fangs extending even as Will made to grab her and hold her back from lunging. "You sold me off, didn't you?! First my sister, and now me?!"
"I have not sold you off." Beckett scoffed. "I may be a lord now, but you are the daughter of my lover and not my wife. No respectable man from the aristocracy will take you, so we must look outside the noble classes for a suitable match. Luckily for us, we don't have to look too far. Mister Sloane has taken rather a shine to you in the short time he's observed you. So I have given him my blessing to court you, and should he prove able to tame your temper, marry you."
"SLOANE?!" Peggy shouted angrily, and though he struggled to hold her back, Will felt his gut burn hot like the sun.
That slimy smiling knave?! Peggy's husband?!
Over my dead body! He snarled in his head.
No! Just no! This was not happening! Watching an undead blackguard like Barbossa pawing over her like a rabid dog was bad enough! But Sloane?!
"I do not see why you are so upset," Beckett smirked. "Ronan Sloane is a very bright young man with many prospects. Handsome, loyal, dependable, everything a young woman of your station could ever want in a husband. Unless, of course, someone else is waiting in the wings to fill that role for you. Tell me, Mister Turner, have you seen any other viable candidates?" He glanced slyly at Will, whose nostrils flared as he tightened his grip around Peggy to stop lunging for the man himself.
Will had thought Barbossa was scheming and sadistic, but this little jackal took the cake. He did not care if he and Peggy were blood relations; he wanted nothing more than to snap his pale neck like a goose for slaughter.
Beckett chuckled softly as he approached a small lockbox on his desk with the EITC insignia engraved on top and opened it gently. He thought his daughter was easy to rile up, but Will Turner was just as malleable to his bidding when under pressure.
It had been so easy to use their bond against them both. Though it surprised Beckett just how intensely Will had been affected by Sloane's attention. Why was he with a woman like Elizabeth Swann if that were the case? Was his love for the Governor's even more passionate, or was that just a match made for ambition's sake?
No. No, Will Turner did love Lady Elizabeth. If he had only sought marriage for money and status, he would not have wasted any opportunity to dump the Governor's daughter in favour of Peggy, now the far superior match in wealth and position. And yet, Beckett felt the blacksmith would do anything to stop her from marrying a more suitable man.
Either way, it would be an interesting nugget to tuck away for later use. Right now, Beckett had more important things to worry about.
"Letters of Marque," Beckett said calmly as he opened a leather folder revealing an official parchment sheet. "Jack will be free, a privateer in the employ of England."
That managed to pause Peggy and Will's bristling, though they still were seething with rage.
"Somehow, I doubt Jack will consider employment the same as being free." Will clipped.
"Especially not after how it turned out last time," Peggy added, her eyes narrowed to slits.
"Freedom." Beckett scoffed at the pair as he strode outside to the veranda, which overlooked the specially made pier for EITC vessels where the HMS Endeavour was docked and receiving new cargo.
"Jack Sparrow is a dying breed." He said as Peggy and Will slowly and cautiously followed him to watch as a new clockface was hauled up by pulley towards the top of the EITC headquarters clocktower. "The world is shrinking, the blank edges of the map filled in. Jack must find his place in the New World or perish. Not unlike you, Mister Turner," Beckett leaned back against the railing. "You and your fiancée face the hangman's noose."
"So you get Jack and the Black Pearl?" Will sucked in a soothing breath as he looked out over the harbour.
"The Black Pearl?" Beckett quirked a confused brow.
"The property you want that he possesses." Will frowned, feeling Peggy tense beside him.
"A ship? Hardly. The item in question is considerably smaller and more valuable, something Sparrow always keeps on his person at all times. Something you, Margaret, are probably very familiar with, I am sure. A compass."
"His compass? Really? That battered old thing?" Peggy sucked in a deep breath, and her father smiled with derisive glee.
"Ahh, good, you do know it."
"Every pirate captain has a compass," Peggy rolled her eyes. "Hell, most captains, pirate or not, have a compass on them. Jack is no different."
"Isn't he?" Beckett's smirk was wide as he glanced back up at Will.
"Bring back that compass, or there's no deal." Beckett turned on his heel and strode back into his office. "I shall give you till this evening to consider my request, Mister Turner. However, you may say your goodbyes to Margaret now if you wish. Indeed, feel free to spend the rest of the afternoon together. This will be the last time you see her. After all, now that she is back home with her real family, she is no longer your responsibility. Ah, Mister Sloane, excellent timing."
"Will!" Peggy gripped Will's arm as he balked forward at the sight of the fair-haired man entering the room with new paperwork for his employer to review.
"How dare he-" Will growled, and Peggy was forcibly reminded of a rabid dog ready to bite.
"Will don't-"
"Your real family?! How dare he say that after all he's done to you-"
"Shhh, Will, calm down." Peggy hissed, stepping in front of him and cupping his cheek in her hand to draw his gaze back to her. "Will. Will look at me. Look at me. That's it. Just look at me."
Will looked at her, his brown eyes blazing with fire even as she stroked her thumb over his cheekbone.
"Don't listen to him," She whispered as soon as she had his full attention on her face. "Don't let them get to you. I made that mistake, and it's cost me already. If you let him get under your skin, you'll only get in more trouble."
"So I'm just going to stand there and watch him lord it over you like this?" Will spat, glaring at the back of Beckett's head with such fury that it was a miracle that his powdered wig did not catch fire.
"Well, he is a lord. I know. I know, not the time for jokes." Peggy chided herself as Will glowered at her. "But Will, you can't do anything now without hurting yourself or Elizabeth-"
"Or you."
"Or me." Peggy shook her head distractedly. My point is, if you can't do anything now, then don't. Wait for the opportune moment."
Will paused in his bristling. The last time he had heard those words was six months ago in that damp, treasure-filled cave in which he had been forced to fight for his life. A fight they had won because they had trusted Jack's intuition.
Still, that did not mean Will had to enjoy seeing her suitor stealing admiring glances at the back of Peggy's curls as he handed documents for his employer to sign.
Will glared daggers at the other man, doing his best to show him in a look the wrath he could not communicate with his words or his fists, all the while sizing him up. Besides his muscular physique and broad shoulders, Will noticed that the man's knuckles were far rougher than Beckett's. Will had seen hands like his before on men used to fighting with their fists and hard labour. Hardly the hands that a mere clerk would possess.
He hardly seemed scared of Will's ire. Indeed, his smirk only grew condescendingly as if Will were nothing more than a pup trying to bark at a cat on a fence.
Good, Will thought scathingly; it would make his inevitable defeat by his hand even more humiliating and satisfying.
Peggy meanwhile glowered at her father, who had also noticed the silent exchange between Will and Sloane and was smiling with derisive amusement. It was like watching a pair of young bristling bucks sizing one another up for a bout.
Well, he could keep smiling. She had already made her choice, and Sloane would have to be a conceited idiot to think she would be willing to court him after everything that had happened.
I'm such an idiot to come back here. Why couldn't I have just stayed with Jack and the Pearl? Life was so simple when all I had to worry about was making sure that man didn't drink himself to death.
Peggy thought glumly as she turned her gaze back out over the ocean.
Jack, wherever you are, stay safe.
Jack Sparrow sighed as he descended through the lower decks of the Black Pearl. It was the dead of night, and barely anyone stirred in the ship, save the few that took the night shift above deck. However, none of them would bother him in his quest for rum.
The only person who usually dared come between him and another bottle was far away, running after her beloved two-timing whelp.
I wonder if she's reached him yet? She must have done. It only takes two days tops to reach Port Royal from Tortuga. He mused as he quietly unlocked the door to the hold where several bottles of his favourite rum were stored, ready in wait.
It had been a very frustrating day. He had thought things would be more straightforward now that he had found out the truth about his newest treasure to hunt for. However, he could hardly concentrate on finding a suitable heading. His mind was too scattered, too fragmented.
He wanted to drink rum to forget that which made him fret; he wanted to go out there and drag Peggy back to her rightful place on the Pearl away from that disgusting boy; he wanted to find that key and find the treasure it unlocked; he wanted to run and hide from that horrible prickling sensation he could feel on the back of his neck that warned him of danger.
His heart and head were torn in too many directions for him to make any rational decision, leaving him in the precarious position of overseeing a very frustrated and confused crew. He could face another mutiny if he were not careful.
Jack almost hated admitting it, but Barbossa had been right. His waffling ways had lost him the Pearl in the first place. People liked having a sense of direction. They wanted certainty and stability. If you deprived people of that, they became dangerous and prone to making stupid decisions.
Need that rum. Now, where is it? Jack smiled as he raised his lantern to see better in the darkened galley.
Gods, it is damp down here. He sniffed with disgust as he passed a nook in the wall where several molluscs and sea critters had made their homes. Gods, we need to clean up down here. Oh! There you are, you beauty.
He smiled in delight as he saw the lantern light glimmer on a glass bottle.
He grabbed the bottle with deft hands only to sigh as the cork fell out and sand slid from its neck.
"Time's run out, Jack."
Jack almost leapt out of his skin, the bottle slipping out of his grip to smash on the floor.
By all the gods, old and new, that voice was downright terrifying. It was deep and gravelly as if its owner had not spoken in a long time. It certainly did not belong to anyone in his crew, that was for sure.
And yet, it sounded familiar.
Warily, he raised his lantern high and crept through the shadows, cursing himself for not carrying his sword. It was a careless mistake and a dangerous one.
However, there was no point crying over spilt ale now. Not when his lantern shed light on a figure sitting on a barrel behind a support beam.
The figure was hunched over in the shadows, his long coat grimy and covered in barnacles. His entire body was drenched from head to foot, and he smelled like a wet dead dog. But his face held Jack's wonder as he turned to face the lantern.
His face was waterlogged, pallid and drawn. His dark brown hair was stringy, and a starfish embedded into his skin, almost like a legion. His eyes were a piercingly pale blue, nearly the same shade as his lips.
The whole effect was quite gruesome. It was almost as if Jack were looking at a drowned corpse come to li-
Ye Gods…It can't be…
"Bootstrap?" He breathed, brows furrowing. "Bill Turner?"
"You look good, Jack." William "Bootstrap Bill" Turner smiled at Jack, water dribbling from his mouth.
Jack stared at the man, aghast. This…how could this be happening? This had to be a dream, couldn't it? And yet, it certainly looked like Bootstrap and sounded like the man.
Junior had to have gotten his good looks from his mother then… Jack found himself musing, his mind's silly way of distracting himself from the shock.
And yet, even as Jack tried blinking away the macabre vision before him, Bootstrap Bill did not disappear.
"Is this a dream?"
"No." Bootstrap shook his head.
"I thought not." Jack felt his gut sink. What was it with supernatural undead people following him around? Was he just a magnet for these sorts of beings? Was it a curse? "If it were, there would be rum."
There was the tinkle of glass as Bootstrap raised a hand, a bottle of rum held so tight in his grip it had almost stuck to it like cement.
"You got the Pearl back, I see." Bootstrap's smile softened as he looked around the familiar surroundings.
"I had some help retrieving the Pearl, by the way," Jack smirked to sound casual and lighten the mood. "From little Pegsy…and your son." He took a much-needed swig of rum, savouring its taste and the warm buzz that washed through him, taking the edge off the cold night air.
"Peggy? She's with you?" Bootstrap blinked in surprise, and Jack grinned.
"Aye, mate, well, sort of. She's gone off to do her own thing, but she'll be back soon. All grown up, of course, but still as feisty as ever."
"And William?" Bootstrap's eyes brightened, the first spark of life Jack had seen in the man since his appearance. "He became a pirate, after all." He almost sounded disappointed.
"And what do I owe the pleasure of our carbuncle?" Jack waved off his concerns. Bootstrap might be an old friend, but Jack had had enough talk of the man's whelp to last him for several lifetimes.
"He sent me," Bootstrap muttered, his pale, haggard eyes drifting to meet Jack's brown kohl-lined ones. "Davy Jones."
"Oh…" Jack's eyes widened for a split second, his heart sinking even further so that it threatened to fall out and onto the floor. How? How was it time already? He had thought he had a few more months, at least!
He had thought he had more time.
"So…it's you then, " he breathed, quickly leaning back to sit on a barrel behind him before his trembling legs could give way beneath him. "He shanghaied you into service ey?"
"I chose it," Bootstrap grunted, his expression softening with guilt. "I'm sorry for the part I played in the mutiny against you, Jack."
THUD!
Jack watched in disgust as the undead man slapped a hand and caught a stray hermit crab wandering out from his wet sleeve.
"I stood up for you and little Peggy. Everything went wrong for you after that."
Jack gulped down hard on the bile rising in his throat as Bootstrap raised the little crustacean to his lips and chomped down into it as if it were a grape.
"They strapped me to a cannon. I ended up on the bottom of the ocean, the weight of the water crashing down on me. Unable to move. Unable to die, Jack and I thought that even the tiniest hope of escaping this fate, I would take it. I would trade anythin' for it."
Despite the swig of rum he took, the guilt that weighed on Jack's heart was too heavy to hide, and he found his gaze averted to the floor. He could not imagine being stuck in such a terrible position. Unable to die, unable to live, his screams swallowed by the ocean water as it flooded his lungs. He supposed sailing under the colours of the Sunken Devil was preferable to that fate.
"It's funny what a man will do to forestall his final judgement," Jack said as he returned the rum bottle to Bootstrap and stood to his feet, only to find his path blocked as the drowned man suddenly appeared before him from the shadows.
"You made a deal with him too, Jack. He raised the Pearl from the depths for you. Thirteen years, you've been her captain."
"Well, technically-" Jack tried, but Bootstrap shook his head.
"Jack. You won't be able to talk yourself out of this. The terms that applied to me and to Peggy apply to you as well."
"Pegsy?" Jack frowned in confusion. "What does Pegsy have to-"
"One soul bound to crew 100 years upon his ship."
"Yes, but the Flying Dutchman already has a captain, so there's no-"
"Then it's the locker for you!" Bootstrap snarled his sopping deathly face so close to Jack they were almost nose to nose. Jack shivered at the proximity, for though the man before him appeared human, he possessed none of the warmth a human body would give off. Instead, he smelled wet and rotten, like a corpse.
"Jones's terrible leviathan will find you," Bootstrap rumbled "And drag the Pearl back to the depths and you along with it."
Ahh shit! Jack gulped as he leaned away from the undead man's intense blue gaze.
"A…Any idea when Jones might release said terrible beastie?"
"I already told ye, Jack." Bootstrap leaned back, taking Jack's left hand in his own clammy, wet one and slapping something cold, wet and something Jack did think he had the stomach to describe onto his palm.
"It comes now! Drawn with ravenous hunger to the man what bears…the Black Spot."
Jack looked down into his palm, his heart nearly stopping. He felt something slimy and wriggly form and sprout from his skin, darkening until a lesion-like black maw was right in the centre. It was not painful, but the horror he felt from just seeing the mark made him almost want to throw up then and there.
Jack prided himself on having a strong stomach for the macabre, but…this was too much even for him to bear.
He looked up at Bootstrap, opening his mouth to ask for more information. Heck, he'd even beg on his knees if it meant the undead man would give him a little help.
Yet even as Jack looked around the galley, he found himself alone in the cold, wet and dark.
Bugger!
"ON DECK! ALL HANDS! MAKE FAST THE BUNT GASKET! ON DECK SCURRY!"
"So Katrina, how were your lessons today?"
"Quite well, Father,"
"Yes, My Lord, Lady Katrina is progressing well in her arithmetic and French classes. And she is just flying through her dancing lessons."
Peggy's eyes glazed over as she stared around the dining table.
This was…this was strange. This was weird and strange and every other synonym she could think of to describe the bizarre scene unfolding before her.
After assuring Will that she would be alright, he was escorted to a guest room and kept prisoner until dinner, which he and a very desperate and flustered Governor Swann had been invited to attend. Hosting the dinner was Peggy's father, Lord Beckett, who now sat at the head of the table, watching everyone with an imperious gaze. Peggy sat on his left, and Governor Swann sat on his right, looking just about as uncomfortable as Peggy felt.
To her relief, the nobleman did not seem to hold any animosity towards her. Peggy thought he might not feel so happy being so near her, given how close a relationship she had was to the man who had imprisoned his daughter. However, to her relief, Governor Swann seemed to understand from her behaviour that she was just as sticky a situation as he was, though he kept reticent throughout the entire dinner.
This Peggy was glad for. While her feelings for Elizabeth were slightly strained, she bore no ill will towards the Governor. He may have been a bumbling fool sometimes and a bit too indulgent of his daughter, but he was a good man.
Much to Peggy's relief, Will was allowed to sit next to her, though it came at the cost of being sat opposite Sloane, who seemed amused at his obvious dislike. However, Will had so far managed to keep his temper reigned by joining in Governor Swann's silent vigil. However, that might have been because of the presence of young twelve-year-old Katrina Beckett, who sat on Sloane's other side with her Governess, a stern-faced woman with dark hair named Miss Burgess, seated next to Will.
Peggy wondered at the sight of her sister.
She had dark brown curls, thick and silky at the back, while the front had been tied back with a ribbon, unlike Peggy's unruly copper ringlets, which fought back against her newly refreshed hair. Her alabaster complexion with rosy cheeks reminded Peggy of one of Elizabeth's old porcelain dolls, a look only cemented by the delicate rose-pink dress she wore for dinner, which contrasted starkly with the dark blue silk gown Peggy had been forced to change into. Katrina and Peggy seemed only to share their father's grey-blue eyes. Without them, the two of them would have looked like perfect strangers.
She seems sweet, I guess, Peggy mused as she watched her sister smile at her father, who politely and calmly praised her positive progress in her needlework as their course was taken away. Dessert would be soon to come, but Peggy did not know whether she had the stomach for it.
But when those big grey-blue eyes turned on her, Peggy was surprised to see the eager excitement in them as she asked:
"Do you do much needlework, sister?"
"Uhh…yes. I do." Peggy coughed, feeling her cheeks flush at the sudden spotlight being flung on her. "Nothing as pretty as what you've probably been doing. Most of my needlework is dedicated to repairing rips and tears in clothes and sails-"
"Sails? So it's true, then, what the servants say? You are a pirate?" Katrina's smile brightened, and Peggy felt herself smile. It reminded her of Elizabeth's eagerness to hear dramatic tales of piracy and adventure. Poor Elizabeth, stuck cold and alone in a cell while Peggy and her fiancé were forced to wine and dine with the man responsible for her suffering.
"Lady Katrina, you mustn't believe such nasty rumours." Miss Burgess tutted, but before she could apologise for her charge's words, Peggy chuckled.
"Rumours? They're not rumours. They're true. I am a pirate."
"Margaret-" Beckett muttered sternly, but Peggy rolled her eyes.
"Oh, Father, it's not like everyone here doesn't know what I am already. Governor Swann knows, Will knows, and your man Sloane knows. And Katrina is my sister. If she's going to hear the truth, she might as well hear it from me, the source, rather than fanciful rumours that blow things out of proportion."
"I suppose you have a point." Beckett conceded wearily, much to Will's silent amusement. Peggy was always good at wearing people down. "Though I would caution you to mind how you speak. I would not have your sister's ears tainted so young in life like yours were."
"Pff! What's the point in being an older sibling if you can't share the fun stuff?" Peggy snorted, and before he could retort, she turned her attention back to an eager Katrina. "But yes, to answer your question, Katrina, I am a pirate."
"Wow. That's incredible." Katrina was almost buzzing in her seat. "For how long have you been a pirate? For that matter, how did you become a pirate? Was it hard? What ship did you sail-"
"Woah-woah! Easy Kitty Kat." Peggy chuckled at the girl's enthusiasm, feeling a rush of warmth for the girl. "One question at a time."
"Sorry." Katrina blushed, embarrassed, as her father quirked an imperious brow at her over his wine glass.
"It's alright, my dear." Governor Swann piped up from his seat, a small, sad and fond smile on his face. "My daughter Elizabeth was much like you at your age. Could not get enough of pirates and adventures."
"Still is," Peggy smirked. "When we were travelling back from the Isla de Muerta, she spent many nights in our cabin grilling me for stories from my time on the Black Pearl."
"The Black Pearl?" Katrina's eyes widened, and Will nodded.
"One of the fastest ships in the Caribbean." He said softly, almost wistfully, remembering the black sooty sails stark black on the water sailing away that sunny day six months ago from Port Royal.
"And quite a beauty." Sloane nodded in agreement. "Black sails and a black painted hull. Truly a formidable figure on the water."
"How did you come to sail on her?" Katrina asked Peggy, eyes shining.
"Well, I…" Peggy paused as she glanced sidelong at her father. For once, his gaze upon her was curious rather than irritable, his eyes gleaming sharply with intent. She'd have to be careful how she answered. "It all happened after I fell overboard thirteen years ago. After drifting in the open ocean for a while until I was picked up by a…by a passing ship." Peggy gulped, rubbing her right wrist under the table as it prickled unpleasantly. "The ship's captain did not want to keep me aboard, so he dumped me at this fishing village the first chance he got. There, this kind lady took me in for a few days and told me that if I wanted to return to civilisation, I would have to hitch a ride on a fisherman's boat to a port called Tortuga-"
"You went to a cesspit like Tortuga all by yourself? At eight years old?" Sloane blinked at her in wonderment.
"I didn't have a choice there, did I? It was the closest big port with ships large enough to attempt long ocean travel. Also, for all I knew back then, my family had given up on me." Peggy added with a pointed glance at her father, whose cold eyes softened sadly for a small fraction of a second.
Will wondered at the sight. Apart from the few lapses in his temper, Beckett had maintained a dignified, aloof, untouchable air around him. But he truly did look guilty and aggrieved by the loss of his eldest.
Perhaps even a man like him was not completely without love in his heart, Will supposed as he took a silent sip of his wine. If he had not tried to imprison and arrest Elizabeth and himself for hanging, Will might have even felt a little sorry for the man.
"Still, it was brave of you to attempt the journey on your own," Will said quietly, his hand reaching discreetly under the table to grip Peggy's fingers. "Especially at such a young age."
"It must have been rather terrifying." Miss Burgess agreed in horrified fascination. "you poor thing. I've heard such awful things about that port."
"It's not so bad." Peggy shrugged. "Don't get me wrong, it is perilous and scary for a small child. However, if you know how to take care of yourself, it can be quite an interesting and educational experience."
"It certainly was eye-opening," Will grunted, remembering the eye-opening and shocking displays he had seen on the street and in the Faithful Bride pub.
"So, how did you end up on the Black Pearl?" Sloane tilted his head curiously.
"I would have thought a man like you would have found out, given the long months you spent there undercover." Peggy quirked a brow at him coolly.
"Only that you stowed away on the Black Pearl after cutting your hair and disguising yourself as a boy," Sloane muttered.
"Well, there you have it. That's how I became a pirate." Peggy clipped.
"Though it does not explain how you managed to convince a man like Captain Jack Sparrow to make you his cabin girl." Beckett's eyes narrowed, but Peggy was ready for him.
"I thought you said you didn't want me to scandalise my dear sister's ears?"
There were a few titters around the table. Even Beckett allowed himself a small, amused smirk.
"All things considered, you were lucky to have survived as long as you did live amongst such rough characters." Sloane's smile widened as he looked at Will, who stiffened. "Which brings me to my next question. How did you and Mister Turner become so closely acquainted?"
"I found her," Will said stiffly, ignoring the jibe to his lower station. "On the beach here at Port Royal, shortly after she left Jack's service. She needed a safe place to stay, and my old master mister Brown had a spare room. We have been as good as a family ever since."
"Hmm, family? How wonderful that two such unrelated people can find such a bond under such circumstances." Sloane chuckled, green eyes sharpening, though his mouth remained smiling. "Perhaps I made a mistake in asking Lord Beckett's permission to court Lady Margaret when it should have been you."
"Yes, I rather think you did." Will's brow twitched, brown eyes hardening coldly.
"William." Peggy sighed in exasperation, gripping his hand tighter under the table. "I can decide who I wish to court for myself without anyone's permission."
"Can you indeed?" Beckett's eyebrow quirked coldly, and Peggy narrowed her eyes at him.
"Yes. I can." She stated proudly, much to the awe of young Katrina, who had watched the exchange in rapture. She had never been involved in such grown-up affairs, especially regarding courting. She had also never seen anyone stand up so fiercely to their father without flinching. Most people usually cowered before their father.
"Perhaps there is a way to put this matter to rest." Governor Swann piped in, unable to bear the uncomfortably stifling atmosphere. "Lord Beckett, while I do not assume to intervene in your family matters I do hope you will not mind my opinion as a fellow father."
"I do not mind at all," Beckett said, turning away from Peggy to look coldly and politely at the nobleman. "On the contrary, I welcome it since you have more experience than I do in preparing a daughter for courtship and matrimony."
"Thank you." Governor Swann coughed as he straightened up in his seat. "While you are Miss Blake – I mean Lady Margaret's father, Lord Beckett, Mister Turner has been her foster brother for many years. It is only natural that he should be worried about the nature of her potential admirers, especially when they are strangers to him. Perhaps it might be a good idea for Mister Sloane to accompany Mister Turner on his mission so they may spend some time man-to-man and lay any fears of his suitability to rest."
"Now, there is a thought," Beckett smirked as he leaned back in his chair, that cold gleam returning to his eyes. "Yes, that is a good idea. I was worried about sending Mister Turner off alone without aid on such an important errand. Perhaps this might be a good opportunity for you both to understand one another better."
"I certainly do not mind." Sloane smiled at Will, enjoying the way the Blacksmith's nostrils flared. "Though it would be a wrench having to leave Lady Margaret's company, I was hoping to spend more time with her."
"I'm sure I could survive without you." Peggy deadpanned coldly, then quickly smiled at Katrina before her father could open his mouth to chastise her. "Perhaps with you gone, I might have time to get to know my sister."
Katrina beamed at the suggestion, her grey-blue eyes sparkling with glee. Peggy felt her heart ache with guilt for using the little girl in such a way. But if she had to spend the last few weeks of her life in her father's keeping, she at least wanted to get to know her only sibling.
Will watched the sisters, his anger wavering slightly at the warm exchange. It was nice to see Peggy feel some fondness for the girl. From what he had seen, she was the only good, innocent thing that probably lived in this building aside from that white cat.
"Well, that's settled then." Beckett sighed, though Peggy could tell he was somewhat pleased by the outcome. "Mister Sloane shall accompany Mister Turner on his errand, and Katrina, you may help your sister settle into her duties around the house. And in time, who knows, if Mister Turner fulfils his end of the bargain, then Lady Swann might also be able to join the two of you as a free woman."
Now it was Peggy's turn to grip his hand under the table to steady Will as he pursed his lips to keep himself from retorting.
He felt peeved with Governor Swann as well. He knew the man had meant well with his suggestion, but now he had put Will in a precarious position. It was bad enough that he now had EITC supervision on his mission, but to have a man like Sloane by his side day and night…
Gods, I wish this nightmare would end.
It was the crack of dawn. A fine mist had settled over the lilac-grey sky and waters, but none of the Black Pearl's crew had time to enjoy the sight.
Joshamee Gibbs stared aghast as his captain shouted from the helm at the men to keep sailing as if the devil were chasing them.
He had never seen Jack Sparrow in a state like this. His brown kohl-lined eyes were wide and terrified, and he jumped and yelled at anything and anyone who took him by surprise.
Jack had always been a strangely skittish character, one of the downsides of creating so many enemies in his profession. However, this anxiety was different from any Gibbs had seen before.
This was pure, unadulterated fear.
It chilled Gibbs's marrow to see such terror in Jack's face as he stared down at the compass, which, in his terror, had finally started working properly again as it helped him navigate to the safety of land.
Land? Land? Gibbs could not believe it. Jack may like a stint in Tortuga or at any port to stretch his legs and indulge in some female company for a little while, but otherwise, he hated being on land for any length of time.
Now he just wanted to find any land and stay there? Had the rum finally gotten to his head?
For the umpteenth time, Gibbs wished Peggy were around. Between them, they could usually understand the captain's funny turns and keep things calm.
He just hoped she would keep her promise and find them before Jack went totally off the deep end.
"Lady Margaret!"
"Mmmnn!"
"Miss Blake, wake up! NOW"
Peggy opened her eyes a crack and scowled. After many long hours of tossing and turning in her luxurious room bed, she had finally managed to find some measure of peaceful rest.
Now some git was shaking her shoulder and trying to wake her up.
Does no one in this place know about personal boundaries? She growled, fangs extending irritably in her mouth as she opened her eyes only to come nose to nose with a familiar clean-shaven face.
"You!" She reeled back, yanking the covers over herself to cover her modesty as Ronan Sloane jerked back, hands flying up in surrender. "You bastard how dare you-mmph!" her yelp was muffled as a large hand covered her mouth.
"SHH! Quiet! Do you want to wake everyone up?" Sloane whispered fiercely, his eyes glancing fretfully around the room. "Now, stay quiet and listen carefully. We don't have much time. Your beloved mister Turner leaves Port Royal very soon, and if you want to leave with him before your father finds out, you need to do exactly what I say."
"What?" Peggy mumbled behind the hand, her eyes wide. What the hell? What was this man talking about? What was going on?!
"I know it's confusing, Miss Blake, but I need your sharp mind to get with the program!" Sloane her by the arm and all but yanked her out of bed and dragged her to her feet, throwing something thick and heavy around her shoulders.
It was a dark grey cloak.
"Here, put this on." He quickly pulled the hood over her messy copper curls and grabbed her by the hand. "Now, follow me."
"Not until you explain what the hell is going on!" Peggy hissed only to receive a groan of exasperation.
"While I am fond of your spunk, Miss Blake, we really don't have time for this." Sloane rolled his eyes as he dragged her out through the door to her room and all but ran with her down the corridor towards a small staircase.
As they ran, Peggy chanced a look back and saw the two red-coated officers that were her guards slumped unconscious on the ground, their weapons strewn by their feet.
Okay, now she was REALLY confused.
If this is a dream, then it's a bloody weird one. She grumbled, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She was led through another corridor and towards her father's study.
Wait? The study?
Yet even as they approached, Peggy saw that the two guards usually posted outside were missing.
"Good, they've gone on break." Sloane sighed as he dragged her into the opulent room, which was mysteriously empty and devoid of life, though her mother's pelt still stood proudly on display by her father's desk.
She wanted to rush out and take it, but Sloane was moving so fast that her feet could hardly keep pace, let alone have the strength to deviate from their path.
Just what was his deal? Was this part of his grand plan to win her over? Had her father put him up to this? was this all a ploy to move her to a more secure prison cell?
Yet something told her this was not the case as she was led out the doors and onto the veranda overlooking the pier.
The dawn sun was barely peeking over the horizon, but there was enough light to see and enough shadows to hide in. Between the two heads of the island, Peggy could see the dark silhouette of the ship coming into port, though it was still too dark to see its colours.
A light morning mist made the entire world look hazy and sleepy, hiding the surface of the harbour waters below.
The pier was deserted as most of the repair work, and couriers for merchandise had been completed yesterday. Now, all that remained were a few dock workers who would hardly bat an eye to the pair as they ducked and wove to stand in the sand beneath the pier's shadows where a rowboat was moored against one of the pillars.
"What the hell are we doing?" Peggy huffed as her feet sank into the soft, wet sand as small cold waves lapped at her ankles.
She was usually a morning person who was only too happy to wake up when the sun rose, but even this much activity before breakfast was too much for her.
"Taking the opportune moment, as you wisely put it to Turner yesterday." Sloane kept a tight grip on her to stop her from balking. "Now, where is that man? I told him to be here before dawn!"
"What, man?"
"By Poseidon, I thought he'd at least be somewhat capable of listening to instruction, but-"
The muffled thudding of footsteps on sand interrupted him, and he turned to grin.
Peggy followed his gaze and felt her heart leap from her chest. It was Will; he had changed from his wedding attire into a lighter coat and less ornate clothes better suited for travel. He glowered at Sloane as he approached, not noticing Peggy as she stood in the other man's shadow.
"Mister Turner, I am glad to see you. I am so glad you could make it," Sloane smirked.
"Let's not get too chummy, Sloane. I did not come here for you." Will clipped, his face a mask of annoyance.
"No, I am aware of your feelings toward me." Sloane grinned. "But perhaps you'll warm up to me when you see the surprise I brought you."
He stepped aside, and Will's eyes bulged.
"Peggy?!" he ran up to her and patted her down, blushing as he pulled her cloak tighter around her to cover her night dress.
"William. Thank god!" Peggy breathed, "Have you seen Elizabeth?"
"I just said my goodbyes. What are you doing here?"
"I'm still trying to figure that out myself." Peggy narrowed her eyes at Sloane, who shook his head.
"That's gratitude for you." he snorted, grabbing Peggy and Will and steering them towards the rowboat. "Now, while I enjoy watching you two simper over one another like this, we should get going. The Painted Lady won't wait for us forever, and Beckett will set his dogs onto us when he notices you are missing."
"The Painted Lady? What the hell is the-"
"No time to explain. Do either of you want to get out of here or not?!" Sloane grunted as he untied the rowboat from its pylon and began pushing her into deeper waters.
"Come on, Peg. We'll settle this when we're out of here!" Will grunted as he hoisted her to sit in the safety of the boat before reaching out to haul Sloane in, thrusting a second pair of oars into his arms.
With their combined efforts, the two men silently rowed into the harbour, their boat cloaked by the morning mist. Peggy pulled her cloak tight around her as she relished the morning sea breeze that washed over her.
She was not quite sure whether she could believe what was happening.
Why was Labelle back in port? Why was Sloane in cahoots with her? Why was he disobeying Beckett when he had played the part of such a loyal stooge? Or was he a loyal stooge? Peggy did not know what to think any more.
In the span of three days, she had gone from being Jack Sparrow's orphaned selkie cabin girl to the prisoner and daughter of the EITC's director. And now here she was, escaping at the crack of dawn with the man she loved and the man she had despised back to a life of piracy.
And here I thought life with Jack was hectic.
She sighed as she looked between Will and Sloane.
Neither man was talking to the other as they focussed on rowing as fast and hard as they could towards the Painted Lady. However, Peggy saw that Will was just as suspicious of their turn of fortune as she was, for he kept his gaze fixed on the back of Sloane's head as if trying to burn a hole through his blonde hair.
"Man overboard!" a young voice called.
Peggy turned her head, panicked, only to feel a smile spread over her face as the Painted Lady loomed from the mist.
It was a pretty ship, though it was clear she had seen some damage recently. Her red-painted hull and black-painted deck still bore scuff marks from cannon fire, and some of the paint was scraped off in some areas. Her sails were white but patched with pieces of different-coloured cloth as if they had been repaired in a great rush.
However, she still looked sturdy in the water, even as Peggy got close enough to see a head of dark curls peek down from above high in the rigging.
"Jimmy!" Peggy grinned with relief.
Will looked up at the face that greeted them and was surprised to see a young lad in his early teens waving down at them from on high.
His skin was light caramel, dark hair curled around his ears, and a purple bandanna drew them away from his face. His grin looked familiar to Will, though he was sure he had never seen the lad before. Where had he seen that smile?
"Quick, get aboard!" A man with a scraggly grey beard hissed as he and several other men threw a rope ladder over the ship's side.
"Ladies first!" Will pushed Peggy towards the ladder, helping hoist her by the waist so her feet could find purchase.
He followed her swiftly, marvelling at how she climbed into the ship, where the crew welcomed her most heartily before helping him and Sloane back on deck.
Were they friends of Jack? Were they allies of the Pearl?
Whoever they were, they seemed to regard Sloane quite fondly as he joined them. Several men slapped the blonde with a hearty chuckle and teased him about his clean-shaven chin.
"What's going on? Who are these people?" he hissed in Peggy's ear.
"This is the Painted Lady Will, a ship belonging to the Brethren Court,"
"The Brethren Court?" Will frowned but found himself interrupted as a woman's husky voice barked orders from the helm to get a move on to turn about and sail out of port before ordering a quartermaster to take the helm.
"Labelle!" Peggy shouted as a curvaceous woman in breeches, a very tight top, and a corseted vest descended the stairs to the helm.
She seemed of mixed descent, with caramel brown skin like the boy and long, dark, dreadlocked hair tied up high in a ponytail behind her head. She was about as tall as Will was, even without her shiny black boots.
"Ahh, Peggy dear. So glad you could join us!" Captain Jacqueline Labelle's kohl-lined brown eyes crinkled fondly upon Peggy.
"Oh, don't 'Dear Peggy' me Labelle! You better have a good explanation for the three days of stress you just put me through!" Peggy growled, though the effect was ruined by the relief in her voice and the smile in her eyes as young Jimmy clambered down from the mast to run and hug her tight. "Hey, Jimmy. I'm glad you're alright."
"Alright? What do you mean, alright? I am so not alright! Mum's had me locked up peeling potatoes for the past few days!" Jimmy Labelle jerked his thumb at Labelle, who rolled her eyes with motherly fondness.
"You wanted to steal rum from mummy's special stash, my love; then you pay the consequences."
"And him?! What's your explanation for THIS ONE?!" Peggy jerked a thumb at Sloane, who grinned. "You told me he was EITC-"
"And so he is." Labelle smiled amusedly at Peggy's frustration. "But he is also one of ours. The EITC is not the only one with spies across oceans." She then turned to fold her arms at Sloane.
"Speaking of which, you're late! We've been waiting around since last night."
Sloane bowed dramatically.
"Forgive me, Captain. But you know Lord Beckett. Always keeps a close eye on everything; I could barely find an opportunity to move."
"Ever the excuse maker," Labelle shook her head with fond admonishment. But I suppose you did get the job done, so well done. Oh dear me, it looks like your poor handsome friend over here is looking very confused." She smirked at Will, who had been watching the entire exchange with such bewilderment that it was a miracle he had not fainted from the shock yet.
"Ah yes, Captain, I'd like to introduce Mister William Turner." Sloane clapped Will on the back, using the force to push him closer to the lady pirate, who held out a ringed hand for him.
"C-Captain Labelle." Will gulped as he took her hand and, on autopilot, lowered his face to her knuckles in a gentlemanly greeting rather than shaking it like a man.
"Oooh! He's handsome and a gentleman. You have good taste, dear Peggy." Labelle smiled with a wink toward Peggy, who blushed pink. "Yes, I can see why my dear brother might feel threatened by this one."
"Your brother?" Will frowned as he dropped the lady pirate's hand.
"She means Uncle Jack." Jimmy rolled his eyes, already bored.
"Uncle Jack?" Will stared at the lad as understanding clicked into place.
Of course…of course, how could he have not seen it before? No wonder that smile was so familiar. The boy looked almost like a young Jack Sparrow. And this Captain Labelle, her eyes were just like Jack's.
That nearly made Will's head implode. The thought of Jack as young and having relatives was almost impossible until now. The man had always seemed so enigmatic and crazy that it almost felt like he had sprung from the ground without aging.
"Why don't we settle this in my cabin." Labelle smiled welcomingly. "Jimmy love, why don't you take Peggy to the guest cabin and get her some breeches? Mister Sloane, please escort Mister Turner to my cabin and order breakfast from the boys below. The poor things look like they could use a break."
"Aye, Captain." Sloane nodded dutifully. "Come on, Turner! Follow me!"
"I'll see you soon, Will," Peggy assured Will with a small smile as young Jimmy took her by the hand and started leading her across the deck, complaining loudly about his boring punishment from his mother as they wove between busy sailors going about their duties.
Forgive me, Elizabeth. I promise I'll be back soon. I will not let you hang. Will sighed, his gaze turning back to the land swiftly shrinking behind them. Yet even as he turned his attention back to the deck of the Painted Lady, he felt the corners of his mouth twitch up for a split second as he beheld the back of Peggy's copper curls and the warm smile splashed across her face.
It had been a long time since he had seen her smile like that.
Too long.
And though Will Turner knew it was impossible, he hoped she would never stop.
Notes:
And there we have it! Peggy and Will have finally escaped Beckett with the help of Sloane no less. And poor Jack's all in a panic now, with the Black Spot marking him as prey.
Haha, poor Will's gone through the ringer. He's so confused about everything and his feelings are getting nicely yanked about all over the place. Let's just hope he can survive what's coming next. It won't be long till we get the gang back together, and I am sooo looking forward to it.
Hope you all enjoyed and please keep reading, faving and following for more.
Thanks
Fuzzy-Beta
Chapter 18: A Broken Bond
Summary:
“Never had she danced so beautifully; the sharp knives cut her feet, but she did not feel it, for the pain in her heart was far greater.”
― Hans Christian Andersen, The Little Mermaid
Notes:
*Trigger warning for various hurt/comfort themes (depression, talk of death). If any of these topics upset you, feel free to take a break or skip to other chapters (or the next chapter once that's up and running). In later chapters, I'll mention the critical points, but the most important thing is to look after yourselves first.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Rat-tat-tat!
"Mom! We're here!"
Peggy yawned, arms stretched behind her head as young Jimmy Labelle led her into the captain's quarters of the Painted Lady.
It was not too dissimilar in layout from Jack's cabin on the Black Pearl, though a bit larger and filled with a lot more personal trinkets from many adventures across so many oceans. Though Peggy's favourite ship was the Pearl, the Painted Lady came at a close second.
She smiled as she caught sight of a few notches embedded one on top of the other in the doorframe she had just entered. Each notch was accompanied by the word "Jimmy" in ink followed by a number, as the boy's height and age were noted down in a loving hand.
"Ah, Jimmy love, you are just in time. Mister Turner was starting to get anxious." Jacqueline Labelle smirked from where she sat at the head of the long dining table nailed to the cabin floor. On either side of her, seated opposite one another, were Will and Sloane. "Ah, Peggy, I'm glad to see the clothes fit."
Will sat with folded arms, not touching the hearty breakfast before him. His eyes narrowed as he kept a close eye on Sloane, who had taken off his jacket and vest and was reclining with his feet up on the table, utterly at ease.
When they heard Peggy and Jimmy come in, they both straightened up at once, Will's eyes brightening with relief as his friend said:
"Thanks, Captain Labelle. It is good to be wearing pants again." Peggy grinned as she looked down on herself. She wore black pants and a white shirt with brown boots, her blue sash from Tortuga around her waist, and her silver abalone necklace around her neck. She had tied her thick copper curls in a long braid that draped over her shoulder and had tied a black scarf like a headband over the top of her head, reaching up with hands wrapped in greying linen to tuck a stray curl beneath the material even as she made her way over to Will who stood to his feet and pulled out her chair for her.
"Thanks, Will." She sighed as she melted into her seat, eyes glazed at the spread before her. "Gods, that smells good."
"Then dig in, dear. You know we don't stand on ceremony here." Labelle grinned, gesturing to her three guests. Jimmy took a spot by Sloane's side and pushed his legs off the table.
"Oy! Easy, lad! Easy! I've been on my feet all morning." Sloane rolled his eyes, chuckling as the younger lad poked his tongue out at him childishly.
They ate in relative silence, with only Labelle and Sloane talking as the latter informed the former of Beckett's movements.
Will listened intently to the conversation.
King George had ordered Beckett to enforce martial law on Port Royal and start a brutal anti-piracy campaign throughout the Caribbean. The campaign was to begin with eradicating the organisation known as the Brethren Court, the main governing body of pirates worldwide and the keepers and protectors of the mysterious Pirate's Code.
Though Peggy seemed unsurprised by the information, and young Jimmy got so bored that he left to do his chores with the crew, Will could not help but listen in wonder to all he heard.
He had never dreamed that lawless pirates would ever have a form of government, let alone a court of Lords that upheld the Pirate Code. It was a strange contradiction. Lawless men have laws. Then again, they were only human; even pirates needed some semblance of order to survive.
"The fact that Beckett wants Jackie Boy to work as a privateer is a ballsy move. I'll give him that," Labelle grunted as she sipped at her light ale. "Having one of the Nine Pirate Lords bend the knee to the Crown would be enough to sow dissent within the Court."
Will nearly spat out his drink.
Jack Sparrow? A pirate lord? HIM?
He looked at Peggy. She seemed amused at his surprise but was otherwise unbothered by the information.
Of course, she would know, wouldn't she? Being Jack's cabin girl meant she would know more things about the man than most…save Labelle.
Will glanced at the older female pirate. It was still difficult believing Jack had a sibling, a nephew for that matter or any family. "Jack Sparrow" and "family" were two things that did not feel right in the same sentence.
"All the more reason to find him before Lord Beckett." Sloane turned to quirk a brow at Will as he munched on some toast. "So, Turner, what's our plan of action?"
"Our plan?" Will paused mid-sip into his ale. "I don't know about our plan. My plan was that Peggy and I would start with Tortuga." His voice was casual, but Peggy rolled her eyes as she caught sight of the familiar coldness in the blacksmith's face.
Oh no. It was going to be one of those days. It had been bad enough dealing with Will's petty competition with Jack, but he seemed to hate Sloane.
Granted, she was not too fond of the man herself, given everything that had happened in the last three days, but if Labelle trusted him, there had to be something redeeming to him…right?
"Tortuga is a good place to start; I will give you that." Sloane nodded professionally, not rising to the bait despite Will's bristling. "Though it leaves a lot up to chance and circumstance. Sparrow barely spent a night in Tortuga last time. And all he did when he was there was enjoy a quiet drink and meal in the back of the Twelve Daggers. He did not even spend the night at a brothel, so hardly anyone saw him."
"That doesn't mean he hasn't been back recently." Peggy bit into a scone. "Jack and I always said that if we were ever separated at sea, I would find my way back to Tortuga and wait for him there. I don't know how long he'll take at that place you sent him to," She added with a pointed glance at Labelle, "but so long as it's within the Caribbean, it will only take us a couple of weeks for him to get back at most."
"We may not have a couple of weeks to spare." Will muttered bitterly, "I don't trust Beckett to hold to our deal for that long since you're now missing."
"You need not worry, Turner," Sloane smirked. "I already took care of that little problem."
"And pray to tell how you achieved this miracle when you hauled me out of bed at dawn?" Peggy scowled. "I may not have spent much time with my…with that man-"
"Your father." Labelle quirked a brow as Peggy stared aghast at her. "Sloane filled me in while we waited for you to change. Don't worry." As Will opened his mouth to defend Peggy, she added, "I don't judge people by their parents. And I don't think my brother will either. Indeed, I think he'll be rather happy."
"Happy?" Peggy frowned.
"Well, it is rather funny, is it not?" Labelle grinned as she took another sip of ale. "The devious captain Jack Sparrow takes the daughter of the Director of the EITC and turns her into the very pirate he despises. The story almost writes itself."
"Jack did not take me in because I was Beckett's daughter." Peggy scowled.
"I know he did not." Labelle countered gently but firmly, "But the blow to Beckett's pride is a boon for any pirate; even you cannot deny that."
And Peggy did not, though she felt weirdly guilty about it all. She remembered how upset her father had been at her not recognising him when they reunited on the HMS Endeavour. It had only been a split second, but he had looked entirely crushed, though he did his best to hide it behind a cold mask. Then, in those moments at that dinner when she had spoken with her sister and offered to stay with her, he seemed genuinely happy.
Deep down, she supposed he did love her in his way, though his pride would never let him admit it out loud.
Still, she chose to stay silent about the matter.
Ugh…gods, why did things have to be so complicated nowadays?
"We're getting off-topic," Sloane grunted as he drained the last of his drink. "Yes, Lord Beckett might be a little miffed at me for a while for taking you out of his hands, but after he reads my note, he'll calm down.
"What did you say?" Will asked stiffly, not liking the sparkle in those green eyes as they swivelled to Peggy's red curls.
"I said; I felt impatient waiting to court his daughter, so I took her with me on our voyage. I said that in addition to us being able to spend more time getting to know one another, her knowledge of Sparrow might be of great value to our mission and that when all was done and dusted, I would return you to him so we could be wed with his blessing."
"And you think that after a few pretty lies like that, he'll just let you waltz out with me just like that?" Peggy raised her eyebrows.
"I've bent the rules to get the job done for Lord Beckett a few times, and he's usually been pretty understanding. Especially since my methods get him the desired results." Sloane shrugged before adding with a sly smirk, "Though whoever said I was lying?"
"Excuse me?!" Will nearly spat out his ale, and Labelle's eyebrows rose high on her brow as Sloane's smile widened upon a stunned Peggy.
"What Turner? Did you think my efforts to court your friend were only an act?"
"But-" Will spluttered, nostrils flaring and cheeks burning with both hot rage and embarrassment as he noticed Labelle smirking from her seat as if watching her favourite play onstage.
"Even you have stated that she is a fine woman. Loyal, beautiful, fierce. Is it so surprising that other men see the same qualities that you see in her?" He turned to address Peggy, whose cheeks were bright pink despite her annoyance at the situation. "Besides, us Selkies must stick together-"
"WHAT?!" Peggy's eyes bulged, and Will's nostrils flared in shock.
"Oh…you didn't figure it out?" Now Sloane did look surprised at the pair of them. "But surely you must have guessed from my scent, Miss Blake?"
"Your what?" Peggy snapped, horrified.
"What I only meant-" Sloane began only to be quickly shushed by Labelle, who had stood to her feet, hands raised in token of peace.
"Alright-alright settle down! We all came here for a nice, easy breakfast." She gave Will such a stern, withering glance before he could open his mouth to snarl at her that he abruptly sat in his chair like a scolded child. Then she turned to Sloane with a sigh. "I did tell you, Sloane. Dear Peggy has been the only Selkie in the Caribbean for fifteen years. The only other one of your shared kind she has met has been her mother, and she barely had that much time with her at all. You couldn't expect her to have guessed your true nature with so little experience."
"What?" Sloane looked at Peggy in shock. "Is this true? But surely you must have met at least one of our kind? We're always passing through the Caribbean when we travel south."
"No! And if any Selkie has passed through the Caribbean, I've never met them!" Peggy admitted bitterly, grabbing Will's hand to silence him before his strained temper worsened. "Besides I…I stayed in Port Royal for ten years, and if a selkie had passed through, they sure did not cross my path. And none of them ever approached me while I've been sailing with Jack."
Sloane slumped back in his chair, dumbfounded.
"Unbelievable." He ran a hand over his face. "Bloody hell. You have been all alone out here, haven't you?"
"She's not been alone; she's been with me!" Will grunted mulishly, only to get waved off dismissively by the other man.
"I'm not counting humans here, Turner." He stared at Peggy's face as she quickly avoided his eye, feeling suddenly self-conscious. "But…but if you're alone, who's guarding your pelt? I haven't seen it on you."
"It's safe," Peggy muttered.
"With Sparrow?"
"Where my pelt is hidden is none of your business." Peggy glowered at Sloane, eyes flashing silver as her fangs extended slightly.
To Will's surprise and irritation, the man rolled his eyes and tutted:
"By Poseidon. Females, always so touchy."
"What's that supposed to mean?!" Peggy snapped, and he snorted.
"Exactly what I said. Female Selkies are notoriously temperamental, even on the best of days. I tip my hat off to you, Turner," he tipped an imaginary hat at Will with an exhausted sigh. "For a human, you have done well to survive the last ten years."
Will bristled but kept his mouth shut. It was one thing for either he or Jack to comment about Peggy's temper. They knew her, had lived with her long enough and had the right to complain.
Sloane had not yet earned that right.
"How do we know you're telling the truth?" he asked Sloane coldly. "You say you're a selkie, but can you prove it to us?"
"You believe I'd lie to you about something so massive?" Sloane eyed him wearily.
"Well, as you said, neither Peggy nor I have much experience with Selkies. You can't expect us to take your word that you are one given such a fact, can you?"
"The lad has a point, Sloane." Labelle nodded with an amused smirk. "Just show them and be done with it. The sooner we can get this over with, the sooner we can move on to more important matters."
"Fine! Fine! I'll show them!" Sloane sighed and suddenly leapt to his feet, turning his back on the table.
Will and Peggy watched him suspiciously as he reached down and quickly stripped off his white cotton shirt.
Despite her ire, Peggy could not help but flush a little at the sight of his powerfully muscled shoulders and the v-shape of his torso covered in a pelt of dark grey seal fur with dappled lighter grey spots.
She stiffened at the sight of the garment. She could almost smell the magic rolling off it, even from where she sat.
But still, she was not convinced.
"Transform." She barked, and Sloane glowered at her as he turned to face her.
"What?"
"Transform into your seal form." She growled, and Will could see her hackles raised. "Any man can wear a selkie pelt and claim to be one. You really want to put your money where your mouth is then you'll show us the whole casket or not at all."
"I'd do as the lady says," Will grunted. He would have almost felt sorry for Sloane being on the receiving end of his friend's glower had it not been for the petty pleasure he took in watching the man flinch at her tone.
" …fine." Sloane sighed.
Will watched closely, fascinated as the man's features smoothly slid from human to seal, his clothes seeming to melt away to nothingness as his body sank into blubber and fat, his arms and legs shrunk and became fins, and his colouring turned to grey-like the pelt he had once worn.
It was far smoother and faster than Peggy's painful transformation, that was for certain. Will had not even heard the tiniest crack of bone or a sound of pain from the man.
Was this the power of the Selkie pelt? If so, why did Peggy keep hers so far away when transforming without it was so painful?
Peggy stared at the large male great seal selkie before her as it waddled and bounced around in a circle, showing its massive form. It would have been funny had it not been so shocking to see.
Even more surprising was the voice she suddenly heard in her head.
"Now, do you believe me, Miss Blake?" Sloane sounded exasperated.
"How are you-"
"Telepathic connection." There was a pause as Sloane smoothly shifted back into his human form, seated on the ground and fully clothed once more. "Since we cannot make noise below the waves, we selkies have found ways to communicate through telepathy. It won't work on humans…not unless you are fully bonded to them."
"Bonded?" Peggy frowned, and Sloane ran a hand through his hair as he stood.
"Aye-yai-yai! You really were completely cut off? You poor thing." He shook his head in dismay and pity. "Lord Beckett, you utter bastard." He muttered, more to himself than to anyone. "I guess I should explain a few of the basics to you while we finish breakfast."
"That…that would be helpful," Peggy admitted, sitting down by Will's side slowly, her entire body numb.
Though she still did not trust Sloane, seeing another of her kind was a surreal experience.
"What do you mean when you say that she can only communicate with her mind if she is 'fully bonded' to a human?" Will frowned, and Sloane sighed.
"First thing you must understand, Turner, we selkies are a very hot-blooded, passionate race compared to the other children of the ocean." Sloane sat back down in his chair. "Most of us are free spirits, and unlike humans, we are not so restrictive when it comes to sexual relations. Many of our kind, male and female, are only too happy to enjoy a romp in the shallows outside the bounds of holy matrimony. However," He added, raising his voice to stop Will before he could open his shocked mouth. "When it comes to love and the matters of the heart, that is a completely different matter. You see, while a selkie might have multiple sexual partners in their lifetime, they can only ever truly fall in love once."
"W-what?" Peggy blinked, her heart sinking in her chest. "Only once?"
"Aye. Once." Sloane looked her pointedly in the eye, his gaze softening sympathetically as if he could already sense the dread building in her "Of course, they can be married multiple times, as is the case when humans steal their pelts. But as for love…we can only form a true bond of love once in our lifetimes. I suppose a human might liken it to finding your soulmate. Except we choose ourselves and do not leave it to fate." He added for Will's sake. "Most of the time, we bond with other selkies, but there are rare cases where a selkie might decide to bond with a human, in which case, the human in question will be able to gain a sort of…sixth sense regarding their selkie partner."
"A sixth sense?" Will frowned in confusion.
"Aye, they'll be able to sense their moods without seeing them, feel their presence or the presence of their pelt if it is nearby, and dream about where they are. Though that last one is a bit iffy." Sloane shrugged, "Many bonded couples have said they dream about one another, but no one's ever proven it."
"What happens if the bond is only one-sided?" Peggy gulped, though she already knew what her answer might be.
"One-sided?" Sloane frowned at her.
"I mean…can a selkie bond, but the partner does not reciprocate their feelings. Unrequited love? Or what if the partner betrays you and breaks your heart or your partner dies-"
"Then the selkie dies." Sloane stated bluntly.
"What?" Will's eyes widened in horror.
"They die," Sloane repeated softly. "Of a broken heart. The process is very long and gruesome. Not in the physical way," He added quickly. "It's more like the soul and the mind wither away, leaving an empty shell behind. Some selkies even go mad with the grief."
Peggy sank into her chair, tears welling in her eyes.
So Barbossa had been right. You could lose a selkie to a broken heart. Had he known this all along, or was he just guessing?
And her mother…her poor mother…was that what had happened to her? Was that why she…?
"I take it you saw it happen to your mother?" Sloane guessed, his voice soft and his gaze compassionate on Peggy's troubled face as she nodded.
"It can't be reversed?"
"They say it can be," Sloane murmured. "Whoever broke the selkie's heart must be able to make amends and help the heart heal, but that rarely happens, especially when you involve humans. They tend to be rather careless and stupid in handling our hearts. They can barely handle our pelts." He added with a small glower towards Will, who frowned in confusion.
"Yes…that's true." Peggy half snorted, half sobbed.
Will tried wrapping a bracing arm around her shoulders, only to get it thrown off roughly as Peggy leapt to her feet.
"I need…I need air." She gulped and stormed out of the room. Will was about to follow, but Labelle stopped him with a hand on his sleeve.
"Let her go, Turner." She warned gently. "The girl needs space."
"With all due respect, Captain, think I know what my friend needs more than you." Will clipped, yanking his arm and following Peggy out of the room.
As soon as he was gone, Sloane sighed:
"That clod. That stupid, stupid clod."
"I know." Labelle shook her head wearily.
"That stupid, selfish- he has no clue about the damage he has done? What he's still doing-" Sloane swore loudly. "I should have just let those officers kill him."
"Then you would have killed Peggy. And then where would we be?" Labelle muttered, and Sloane grimaced.
"One of my kind, the last of the true Caribbean Selkies…the last hope for her clan. Dead because of that stupid, selfish blacksmith!"
"She's not dead yet," Labelle tried, but Sloane waved her off. He leapt back to his feet and paced the room like an angry tiger pacing around its cage.
"She is dead, Labelle!" He snapped. "She's already bonded herself to him, and he's killing her every time he opens his stupid mouth. I can smell death on her from here! And what is she thinking? Keeping her pelt locked up so far away and damaging herself without it?"
"She doesn't know any better-"
"I know!" Sloane cried out in anguish. "I…I know…It's not her fault. Aghh! This is so messed up! Elder Magrat will be so devastated by this. We hoped the last Caribbean Selkie might be safe with our clan, but…I guess it doesn't matter how you slice it. We've lost her. We've lost her. All because of that stupid-AGH!" he groaned in dismay.
Labelle sighed wearily, her brown eyes downcast and sombre.
"Sometimes, Sloane, you can't save everyone." She muttered, leaning back in her chair. "Sometimes…things die, and you can do nothing about it. That is the way of life."
"But why her?" Sloane pinched his nose. "She's…she's so young…she's not even had a chance to-"
"I know," Labelle murmured sadly. "But it's her choice. Her life. All we can do is respect it."
Lord Cutler Beckett stared at the note his clerk had left for him on his desk on top of a brown leather journal.
"Sloane, you fool." He growled through gritted teeth, thanking his lucky stars no one but Mercer was there to see his anger boil to the surface.
He had always known Ronan Sloane was a wildcard. His unorthodox and unconventional thinking was one reason Beckett valued him as an employee.
But this…this was so out there it was almost insane.
Leaving with Turner at dawn without their assigned EITC escort was one thing, but to go with his eldest daughter too?
That bordered on betrayal.
Then again, Sloane explained that taking Margaret along was the only way to ensure Turner's and Sparrow's complete cooperation.
Beckett glanced at the journal on his desk, which lay open on the most recent pages. On one side, opposite a few excellent drawings of sword hilts and metalwork designs, was a sketch of a young woman with long curly hair.
Though the blacksmith's handwriting was crude and simplistic, he was a good artist and had captured her likeness very well, right down to all her freckles that spread down her neck and shoulders. He had drawn her smiling softly, her eyes gentle and filled with fondness—a peaceful expression Beckett had hardly seen his eldest daughter bear since being reunited with her. The closest he had seen her was when she had been talking with her sister Katrina at dinner.
What held his attention were the words 'My Peggy' scribbled in a corner of the page.
Beckett's lip curled with distaste.
Little rat. He has the hand of a Lord's daughter, and yet he draws this?
Yes…as much as this betrayal of trust stung, Beckett could see why Sloane would use his daughter to get the most out of Turner.
He just hoped this decision would not come back to bite him in the arse.
But more than that, he hoped Sloane would bring his eldest daughter home soon.
He had just gotten her back, and there would be hell to pay for any that took her away.
Peggy sighed and shut her eyes as she felt herself soaked to the bone by the splashes of the waves below and the pelting rain from above.
She was standing at the stern of the ship on the poop deck, staring out to sea while the helmsman behind her steered them through the rainfall. It was not a full-blown storm. Indeed, this was a light sprinkle by Caribbean standards.
Still, she stood there, letting the rain wash over her as she listened to falling droplets and the men behind her rushing about their tasks.
Even in the rain, they were not deterred, though there was some grumbling about the cold chill in the air.
"You'll catch a chill if you stay out here." a familiar voice said as a wall of heat and damp cloth suddenly pressed into her side.
"So will you." She grunted as she turned her back and strode away from the helm. She staunchly ignored Will's worried face, even as he dashed after her like a lost duckling.
Ever since that awful breakfast with Sloane, he had been like that all day. She had snarled at him to let her process things on her own, and he had done his best to give her the space she needed. However, he always stayed within eyesight, his face perking whenever she passed him by, hoping she would speak to him.
But she didn't. She barely even looked at him and only gave brief, curt answers whenever he spoke to her.
She could not believe that mere days ago, she wanted nothing more than to see his face and be in his arms again.
Yet now…now it hurt too much to even look into his warm brown eyes.
Ten years had passed since she had formed a bond with Will, ten years in which she had accidentally given her literal heart to him.
And he had tossed it to the gutter without a thought.
Never in all her years had she ever felt so angry at him. They had had their fair share of massive fights when they lived together, as any friends or housemates would. But this…
The ugly resentment that had curdled within made her heart feel raw and mangled, as if a dog had chewed on it and spit it back out.
She knew it was unfair of her to put the blame solely on him. She had never told Will of her feelings, so how could he be aware that he had broken her heart and destroyed her so badly?
And yet…She was not sure she could ever forgive him for this.
How could he not be aware of her feelings? Everyone else could see them as clear as daylight. Jack, Gibbs, even Barbossa and her bloody birth father had seen it from a mile off.
So why hadn't he? Even if he did not return her feelings, he could not have been that blind to the fact she was suffering because of him…could he?
But of course, he could. After all, he's Will Turner. He'd never hurt you. Hurting you is something someone else does, but not good, honest Will Turner. Oh no. He could never hurt a fly because he's such a 'good' man. A snide voice that sounded just like Jack wafted through her mind.
And yet…he had hurt her.
He had pulled her back into a life of piracy against her will without a thought as to whether she would face the hangman's noose. He had dragged her into betraying Jack, putting her in a dangerous position with a pirate crew that could have killed her or worse. Because of him, she had been forced to reveal her selkie nature to so many strangers, which put her in danger of the EITC and her father!
Worst of all, he had used her to get what he wanted out of life, then tossed her aside for someone who barely acknowledged his existence for years until he did something heroic.
He had hurt her. He had hurt her time and time again, and every time, SHE paid the price for it! Not him!
And now she was paying the ultimate price with her very life.
Her LIFE!
Even if being a prisoner for the Devil did prolong the inevitable wait for a physical death, her mind and soul would be long gone by the time her two-hundred-year sentence was done. Meanwhile, Will would return to Elizabeth and start a family, grow old with children and grandchildren, and die happily of old age with all the love and warmth life could give him.
Peggy knew logically that he was entitled to love whoever he pleased. He was a free man; it was his choice, and she would never take that away from him.
But it did not stop her heart from screaming in anger and frustration.
IT WASN'T FAIR!
Why did he get off scot-free from the hurt and pain, and why did SHE have to be the one to deal with it?
Why was she the butt of the bad joke?
Why?
WHY?
She had tried to squash it down for the past six months, to push all those angry thoughts down, but now…
Now, she wanted to hit and scream at him. She wanted him to feel her pain and for it to be tenfold of all she had felt these last few months.
She wanted to know why Elizabeth, who had never gotten off her cushy arse to even visit him during those ten long years, was worthy of being his wife when she, Peggy, had supported him through thick and thin, day in, day out like a real wife would have done?
Why was Elizabeth, the woman who barely acknowledged he existed in public until he played the dashing hero, the one he always rushed to save or dote upon?
Why was Elizabeth, a woman who was callous and selfish enough to toss a very doting and loyal fiancé to the side when it suited her, worthy of being bound in holy matrimony when Peggy had risked the hangman's noose and the devil's anger to help chase and fight cursed bloodthirsty pirates?
Why wasn't she good enough?
WHY?
WHY?!
Jack was right. She thought bleakly, barely even hearing Will's cries for her to slow down as she descended below deck and into the warm and dry. He was right about this whole mess. And so was Hector. And I did not listen…why did I not listen? Oh yeah, that's right? Because you're a stupid idiot who let herself bond to a human that couldn't give two rats asses about her unless it suits him!
"Peg! Wait-just wait-" Will panted as he almost fell down the steps below deck, his hand quickly grabbing at hers to stop her.
Big mistake.
Before he could even open his mouth to speak, a fist slammed straight into his jaw.
He fell backwards, the force of the punch forcing him onto his rear on the floor with such a hard thud he almost had the wind knocked out of him.
"Ahgh", he cried out in pain as he felt his back bruise from the impact, thanking his lucky stars that he had not heard any bone crack in either his spine or his jaw.
When he looked up, he saw a sight that made his stomach jolt in fear.
Peggy was glaring down at him, but it could not be Peggy.
Her eyes were hard as swords, and the pupils within were cold and dilated so much that the iris had turned into a ring of shining silver as her nostrils flared. Her damp copper curls flew around her face like wildfire. Her mouth was twisted into a feral snarl, which exposed her four fang-like canines, which had grown and sharpened to nearly a deadly point. By her sides, he saw her uncurl her fists, deep splashes of red now coating the inside of her palm where the claw-like nails had dug into her flesh.
For the first time, Will felt frightened at the sight of the young selkie.
He had seen Peggy get mad before, but none of those moments held a candle to the incandescent wrath that loomed down upon him with the ferocity of a beast.
Hearing she was a selkie and a child of the ocean was one thing. But right now, she had never looked less human.
He remembered how Barbossa's cursed crew had been terrified of her during their fight in the caves of Isla de Muerta. If this was the fury they beheld, then Will could not blame them for wanting to scream and run at the sight of the young selkie. It took everything he had to squash down the primal urge to run and hide.
Something of his fear must have shown on his face, he knew, because her pupils shrank a little, and her brow softened.
It was as if a switch had been turned off. Suddenly, the horrifying creature that had attacked him was gone, and Peggy stood in its place, angry, confused and sad…so very sad.
"Peggy-" He started to say, but she was already running. "Peggy, wait! Please wait."
But Peggy could no longer hear him; she had vanished down into the bowels of the ship far away from everyone in the darkest corner she could find and-
"Woah woah!" A man's voice shouted, and Peggy squeaked as she almost collided with a broad-shouldered form.
"Miss Blake? What the- what's going on?" Sloane looked down at her, reaching to steady her by the arms. Then he saw the tears well in her eyes.
"N-no! Don't! Don't touch me!" She bleated, cringing away from the male selkie as he dragged her behind a stack of crates in a dark corner.
But Sloane did not back down. Peggy slapped against his chest and pushed and shoved, but his arms still found their way around her and held her tight into him like a vice, her hands trapped against his chest as she wept and cursed every single name under the sun into his shirt and vest.
Her words dissolved into sobs as he buried his nose into her curls, and one of his hands started rubbing soothing circles into her back.
He could hear the footsteps of someone passing their hiding spot but did not heed them, nor did he attempt to move. If he did, she would use it to push him away. And there was no way in hell that he was letting go of her in this state.
He did not know how long he stood there with her weeping in his arms, but it was a while before her sobs began to lessen. Yet this was only because she was growing tired. He could feel it in the way she sagged against him.
"Miss Blake-" He started to say, but she shook her head.
"Don't!" She moaned into his chest. "Don't tell me it's going to be alright. Don't tell me things are going to get better. I don't need any more lies."
"I won't lie. I won't, I promise." He whispered, his voice hoarse as he choked down the lump in his throat. "Just tell me what's wrong?"
"No." She mumbled, and he sighed.
"Miss Blake-"
"No-"
"Blake!"
"I-I can't!"
"Can't or won't."
"Both." She admitted with an exhausted sigh.
"I'm going to take a wild guess and say that Turner is one of the reasons you are in this sorry state?" Sloane grunted and sighed as she stayed silent in response.
"I should have guessed you two had bonded from the start, " he whispered lowly so that only she could hear him. "The way you two were all over one another in Lord Beckett's office…" he shook his head. Does he know?"
"No…" Peggy shook her head against him. "I've never told him. Even if I did, what difference would it make? He never would have chosen me, and I'd still end up like this."
Sloane's green eyes shut sadly, his own heart sinking with grief.
"You poor thing." He exhaled shakily. "You shouldn't have been left on your own for so long. If we had been more vigilant in looking for you, we could have taken you away from that lout before you chose him and taught you how to control your magic."
"We?" Peggy mumbled.
"My Clan. When the purge occurred, many different Selkie clans offered sanctuary to Caribbean Selkies fleeing the EITC. And even after the purge, we kept searching for the last of our brethren, hoping to keep them safe from extinction. Even though many other clans had given up, Elder Magrat had heard two selkies remained in the hands of the EITC and so sent me to find them."
"Me and my mother." Peggy groaned, and Sloane nodded.
"You and your mother."
"And that's why you work for my father." Peggy chuckled hollowly into his shirt.
"Yes," Sloane admitted grimly. "That's why I work for Lord Beckett. You know how it is. You want to catch a thief and all that junk. I had almost lost hope until that Mister Twigg bloke started spouting all that guff about you six months ago."
"So that's how you found me." She carefully pulled herself back, still keeping her eyes downward cast towards his booted feet.
"That's how I found you," Sloane repeated, frowning as he looked down at the blood coating his hands from where he gripped her palm. "Shit, what did you do?"
"I…my claws…" Peggy felt her cheeks flush with red-hot shame as the tears burned in her eyes again. "I…I lost my temper…I hit Will…I…"
She bent over as she tried to swallow down the sob.
"Can't say I blame you," Sloane muttered bitterly as he examined the injuries on both palms. "I've barely known the man for two days, and already I want to beat the snot out of his pretty face."
Despite herself, Peggy found herself snorting with a watery chuckle.
"Ah, good a smile. We have progress." Sloane sighed in relief, one hand holding both her wounded ones in his while his other one wrapped around her shoulders and hauled her back straight once more. "Come on. Over here. Let's get these patched up."
He quickly brought her to a few crates where some medical equipment had been stored in a small chest.
"The ship's doctor is looking after Avery upstairs," Sloane grunted as he settled the kit and Peggy on a nearby rum barrel. "Poor Bloke slipped and rolled his ankle on deck earlier. So I'm afraid you'll have to deal with my handiwork. Ahh, good, here we go!" He pulled a bottle from the chest and poured its contents into a small bucket.
"You keep seawater in a bottle?" Ariel frowned in confusion.
"Just in case we're too busy to grab a bucket. Now, come on, put your hands inside. It'll sting, but it'll help."
Peggy nodded meekly and put her hands into the water, her teeth gritting as she did her best to swallow the yelp of pain as the salt stung against the open wounds.
"You'll have to wait ten minutes to see any results." Sloane lectured as he began to rummage through the chest for clean linens. "The skin may barely heal, so you must bind and take it easy. Sea water might help kickstart the healing process, but it's not a magic potion."
"I guess I've got a lot to learn before I kick the bucket, huh?" She grumbled, and Sloane paused, his shoulders slumping even as he pulled out some clean bandages and a jar of ointment.
"Better late than never." He muttered softly, patting one hand companionably on her shoulder. "I hope you can find it in you to forgive me for my earlier behaviour. I should never have forced a courtship upon you when you did not want it."
"Are you being kind to me now because you acknowledge your mistake or because you pity me for being a dead woman walking?" Peggy asked bluntly.
"Both," Sloane admitted bleakly. "But that being said, even if I will no longer pursue your hand in marriage or courtship, I would still very much like to be your friend. I did mean what I said when I said I found you agreeable company…and between you and me…you look like you could use a friend right now. One that you aren't in love with."
"I look like a right mess, don't I?" Peggy shook her head with a hollow laugh.
"No more than the rest of us," Sloane patted her cheek gently, his thumb stroking away a tear from her face just as heavy footfalls approached them.
"Peg! Peg, where are you?! Peg, please come out! Whatever it is that's upsetting you, I'm sure we could-"
Peggy and Sloane looked up in time to see Will's pale face appear in the gap between barrels.
His brown eyes were wide as he observed the scene before him.
Peggy was sitting on a barrel unusually close to Sloane, her hands and one of his in a bucket of water while his other stroked a stray red curl from her tear-stained cheek.
For some reason, the sight made his insides broil and curl in on themselves very disgustingly, as if live eels were writhing in his guts and mangling his intestines as they crawled through his body and up into his chest.
"What is going on here?" He said, the ice in his veins creeping into his voice as he turned his eyes suspiciously on Sloane.
What was HE doing here? Why was HE close to Peggy all of a sudden? Why was she letting that knave touch her so tenderly like that when, barely a few hours ago, she had been only too keen to scalp him alive?
"He's helping me." Peggy muttered, "My hands…my claws cut them when I…" Her voice trailed off as she turned away from Will's flashing brown eyes. He turned them to Sloane, who barely batted an eye at his doubt.
"Seawater helps Selkies heal Turner." The selkie man sighed as he carefully raised one of Peggy's hands from the water to show Will the wound, only to smile in surprise. "Oh, would you look at that? Already sealing over. Perhaps it wasn't too deep after all."
Despite his ire, Will did look at the injured limb and was surprised to see that the deep cut on the palm had almost started to scab.
"So I shouldn't bind it?" Peggy asked, and Sloane shrugged.
"Up to you. Personally, I would bind it to be on the safe side. The last thing you want is splinters or dirt getting in if it reopens."
He reached for some bandages and beckoned to see her other hand, the motion oddly making something in Will's gut snap painfully. The idea that this man could touch her with such familiarity did not sit right with him. What was he hoping to achieve with this stunt? Pretend to be helpful and friendly and then steal her away back to her father and force her to be his dutiful little wife?
No. There was no way Will was letting that happen. Not to Peggy.
"I can do that." Will clipped, stepping forward only to have Peggy shake her head.
"It's fine, Will. He's already got the bandages."
"He probably has his duties to complete for Captain Labelle."
"Not at present." Sloane shook his head, a small smug smirk gracing his lips as Will bristled waspishly. "Captain has ordered me to watch you two and find her dear little brother. She wants to ensure he pays for his end of the deal with her as promised."
"Deal?" Peggy frowned, and Sloane grinned.
"Yes, Sparrow promised her two bottles of his best rum if she would grant you safe passage to find Turner. She wants to make sure he pays up."
"Two bottles of rum? That's all I'm worth? Jack, you rotten bastard. He told me I was worth an entire keg!" Peggy rolled her eyes, and Sloane laughed.
Will, however, did not laugh. He may have chuckled if this was any other man she was joking with, but not HIM.
He may have been another selkie or a spy for the pirates, but Will did not trust him. He was too friendly…too charming…, and too conveniently pirate after playing the dutiful stooge to one of the most corrupt men in the British Empire.
It was not right.
"I can bind her hands." He said stiffly, holding out his hand expectantly for Sloane to put the bandages in, only to seethe as Sloane blatantly ignored the gesture and began wrapping Peggy's injured limb.
"Not too tight, is it?" He asked, and Peggy shook her head.
"No, it's fine." She gulped, horribly aware of how Will's nostrils flared and his usually warm eyes hardened like ice. "Will, what are you doing down here?"
"What am I-?" Will blinked in surprise "What do you mean what am I doing here? You ran off, so I came to look for you."
"I told you I wanted to be alone."
"And yet you're sitting with him!" Will's lip curled as he glowered at Sloane.
"I merely found her injured and offered to help, Turner. If Blake wants me to leave her alone, all she has to do is ask." The light green eyes in the selkie's face glinted wickedly. "Or maybe it's only YOU that she doesn't want to see."
"What's that supposed to mean?!" Will growled, fists clenching.
"Will stop it!" Peggy snapped before Sloane could open his mouth. "You too, Sloane. Please, stop."
"Sorry, Blake." Sloane apologised at once, much to Will's annoyance, as he mumbled his apology.
"Will…I'll…I'll talk to you later, alright? Just…just not now. Please." Peggy murmured, heart clenching as Will spared Sloane one last contemptuous look and sighed.
"Fine. We will talk later. But we will talk." And with that, he stomped off out of sight.
"I'm so sorry about that," Peggy whispered as she heard his footsteps fade away up the stairs to the deck above.
"Don't be." Sloane shook his head as he began bandaging her other hand. "He's a grown man. If he acts stupidly, then it's his responsibility to apologise for himself."
"I know." She felt her eyes well with tears. "Half the time, he doesn't mean to act like this." Peggy sighed as she dabbed her eyes with her sleeve. "He just acts rashly when he's stressed."
"And that's only because you take responsibility for him when he should do it himself." Sloane snorted "I know you want to defend him because you love him, but take it from me. You're only doing him more harm. You've just made him believe he can dump any liability on you by not letting him take accountability for his actions. That's why he feels no shame in using your affection for his gain. Woah-whoa! Don't get me wrong," he raised his hand to soothe her as she glared at him. "I don't doubt he cares about you a lot. But as you told your father, just because someone cares about you doesn't mean they won't hurt you to get what they want."
"So you were listening in on our conversation," Peggy grumbled mulishly. She barely had any strength to be angry at the man anymore. She was just so tired.
"What can I say? I'm a nosy bastard." Sloane admitted with a small joking smirk. "That's what happens when you grow up in a family with six siblings who are always up in each other's business."
"You have six siblings?" Peggy's eyebrows rose in astonishment, and he sighed.
"Four sisters and two brothers, to be exact. All Selkies." He added in response to her awe. "I know it seems fun, but it can get too noisy sometimes, y'know? So often, I found myself trying to find a quiet spot to think in silence."
"A little noise is not so bad," Peggy murmured with a fond smile as she remembered the crew of the Black Pearl. "It was always so quiet in my father's house. So empty and cold. When I first found Jack, listening to the crew at work was nice. The whole ship felt so alive."
"You sound like your sister." Sloane's smile softened. "Little Katrina does enjoy the hustle and bustle of the town or having her friends over for tea. Your father, on the other hand, prefers silence."
"I know," Peggy muttered bitterly, eyes clouding over. "He always used to scold me whenever I tried to visit him in his office outside the time he set aside for me. I know he had appointments with others or was busy with work, but he was so...so rigid. Even Commodore Norrington was not so strict with his time, and he was a naval officer!"
"Lord Beckett is a very particular man," Sloane grunted as he tied Peggy's hand and gently put it back in her lap. "It has kept him so powerful a figure all this time. You cannot run as many operations as he does without being on top of it all."
"Sounds like a miserable existence," Peggy muttered, and Sloane nodded. He took the bucket of seawater from her and examined it critically.
"It is. I do not think I ever saw him even remotely close to happy in all my years of serving him…not until he found you." He added, carefully looking at Peggy. "I know he is an oppressive man, but he does love you and your sister. That is one thing I will credit him for. Regarding the two of you, he will move heaven and earth to make you happy…or at least do anything to ensure you are happy the way he believes is best."
Peggy did not say anything to that. How could she? Sloane was right, after all. Though it hardly made her feel any better about the situation. After all, he was still the reason her mother had gone mad and died of heartbreak.
"I do not blame you for being angry at Turner," Sloane muttered. "After everything you've been through together, it must have hurt to see him choose someone else in front of everyone."
"It hurt," Peggy admitted, rubbing her chest. "As if someone had taken a frozen axe to my heart."
"That would have been the bond breaking." Sloane's voice shook slightly, though he was quick to cough. "My mother went through something similar when my father died. She described it as an ice-cold stabbing feeling. Though I must say, you've lasted much longer than she did."
"How long did she-"
"Two months." Sloane grimaced. "Then again, she had always been in frail health for as long as I could remember. You are far younger and more robust than she was…or maybe you're just stubborn."
"Perhaps." Peggy sighed. "There isn't…there isn't any way to tell-"
But Sloane shook his head sadly.
"From what few records our kind keeps, the time it takes for a selkie to die of a broken heart varies from case to case. Some have died within a few hours, while the longest on record lasted nearly two years."
"Two years?"
"She tried holding on for her child," Sloane's eyes turned to the floor as he quickly scrubbed at his eyes. "But even then, she could not hold out against the inevitable."
Peggy gulped down hard on the lump in her throat as she wondered how long her mother had been suffering.
From what little she could remember of her old life, she had been separated from her mother and raised by a rotation of nannies and maids. She only got to see her mother in the evenings after they'd shared dinner or occasionally on some afternoons when she was lucid and normal.
She wondered now what had happened in those hours when she and her mother were separated. Peggy remembered having free run of the house and the grounds so long as she had one of her minders watching her, but she had hardly seen her mother anywhere unless it was their designated time.
Were their schedules conflicting, or had her father Beckett treated Peggy's mother like he had her upon her return to Port Royal? Had he kept her locked in her room and made pretty for guests, like a doll or trophy to display when needed? The very thought of it almost made Peggy want to throw up.
And poor Katrina…If Peggy had not been so doomed, she might have considered whisking her half-sister out of their father's clutches. She might have been the daughter of the woman who tried to kill her, but Katrina was innocent. She did not deserve to be groomed and sold as a nobleman's broodmare because she had the misfortune of being that man's legitimate child.
Monster. He may love us, but that doesn't stop him from being a monster.
"Are there…are there any other signs I should look out for? Signs of it getting worse? When I'll get to the…the end…" She mumbled, almost too terrified to hear the answer.
"A few." Sloane nodded, though he looked reluctant. "The problem is they're hard to spot in the early stages, and once you have noticed, the selkie is too far gone to be saved."
"What are they?"
"Some get headaches. Most have become very withdrawn and shut themselves away or have erratic mood swings. Though that might be hard to tell with you since you're so temperamental already."
"And?" Peggy was too worried even to register the attempted playful jibe.
Sloane sighed heavily.
"Some Selkies just become vegetative and sit and waste away till they die, though this doesn't happen to all Selkies. You might experience pain in your chest. It will start sporadically, with a sting here and there, and as time passes, it will become a constant ache that will be crippling. And in the more extreme cases, some selkies can have very vivid hallucinations or nightmares. That tends to happen when the Selkie in question is well and truly close to meeting the ferryman."
"I already have nightmares," Peggy muttered, and Sloane shook his head.
"They'll be different from normal ones. You'll be disoriented for hours afterwards, and sometimes, the hallucination might continue even though you are aware you are awake. Worse still, after it's over, you may faint or won't remember what happened at all during the episode. My poor mother used to keep walking in a waking dream long after she had awoken, and she'd suddenly snap out of it without knowing how or why she was standing in the middle of the beach at midday when she last remembered going to bed the night before." He shivered. "Like the heart pain, these episodes start as sporadic, but it quickly becomes a near-constant state of existence. Ultimately, it becomes more of finding out when you are lucid."
"So basically…I'll just become a raging ball of hallucinations and pain." Peggy blubbered, and Sloane nodded. "how do you know all this stuff? Did your mother go through all of it?"
"Some of it," Sloane admitted quietly. She mostly became very withdrawn, sorrowful, and hallucinated a lot. The rest of the symptoms I learned about from our clan's matriarch, Granny Magrat. That's her job. She is our leader, keeps our history and knowledge, and passes them on to the next generation. That's why we were so set on finding the last selkies of the Caribbean—so that we could preserve the knowledge they held for future generations."
"And instead, you got me." Peggy muttered, "And I don't know anything about being a selkie."
"It's not an ideal situation, no." Sloane admitted, "But that's not your fault. Granny Magrat would have been just as happy bringing a young selkie like you under her flipper if only to teach you our ways so you could help resettle new selkies into the Caribbean. But alas, that does not seem to be on the cards anymore, thanks to Turner." Sloane added bitterly.
Will's not the only one to blame. Peggy wiped her eyes sadly. I'm the fool who has given my soul to the Devil and my heart to a man who doesn't love me back. I'm to blame as much for this mess…and now I'm paying the ultimate price. She shook herself and stood, fists clenching as she kept her teary eyes facing her boots.
"Thank you, Sloane…for what you did…I…thanks."
"Anytime, Blake." Sloane nodded, yet even as the last syllable left his mouth, she had already dipped around a few crates and slipped into the darkness of the ship.
Will stood outside the door to the small cabin, hand raised to knock. However, he found it difficult to put his knuckles on the door.
It was the dead of night. The Painted Lady was a bigger ship than the Black Pearl or the Interceptor and, as such, would not reach Tortuga till just after dawn the following day. Yet, despite having more time to rest till starting the search for Jack, Will could not find rest.
The day's events were still running through his mind, and his cheek still stung from the force of Peggy's punch.
He always knew her mother had always been a sore spot for her, and he understood that learning about her death must have been upsetting, especially after all she had discovered in the past few days. He did not blame her for wanting to lash out in her anger, nor did he hold it against her to use him as a target for her rage.
If she needed that, he'd give it to her gladly, as long as it helped her get through the pain to the other side.
But then Sloane's words came back to haunt his brain.
"Or maybe it's only YOU that she doesn't want to see."
Lashing out and using him as a punching bag was one thing. Peggy would never have hit him like if she had been in her right mind. But despite her promise to talk to him later, she avoided him for the rest of the day. He knew it was purposeful because every time she saw him, she would vanish in the blink of an eye.
Why was Peggy avoiding him? What had he done in the last few hours to make her so upset with him when she had been glad to see him that morning?
Unbidden, memories of their last time in Mister Brown's apartments washed over the blacksmith's mind.
Despite being happy to see him, she had been reticent to let him hug her and hold her like he usually did. She had seemed surprised that he would keep her things and not toss her away.
But why was she so surprised? She was the only family he had had for ten years. Why shouldn't he treasure what she left behind when he had missed her?
Maybe the sketch he had done of her had been rather a lot, but why shouldn't he draw her? He had drawn many illustrations of her before, and none had bothered her before. And since when had she been so worried about what others would think of their relationship? So long as they and those close to them knew what they were, who cared what others thought?
This is ridiculous. I should just get this over and done with. We have a mission to accomplish, and we need to clear the air if we're going to work together.
He quietly tapped on the door.
"Peg?" he called softly, sure to use his most gentle voice. Heaven forbid she had a gun or a dagger on her. "Peggy? Are you there?"
There was silence on the other side.
"Peg?" he called slightly louder.
He frowned as he heard a soft groan on the other side.
Sucking in a deep breath, he gingerly opened the door to the cabin.
It was a small hole in the wall, barely bigger than a closet. It was not too dissimilar in size to her nook aboard the Interceptor, though it lacked a window. The only light in the room came from a small lantern hanging near the bed.
There, illuminated in the dim yellow glow, Peggy lay on the bed, her body curling in on itself as she cringed away from the sound of his footsteps.
"Peg?" Will cautiously strode to sit on the edge of her bed. "Peggy, what's wrong?"
"Go way!" Peggy snapped, whimpering pathetically into her thin pillow.
Will, however, did not move from her side as he reached out to wipe her hair away from her face. She was clammy and sweaty; her brow scrunched in agony as she cringed away from his touch.
"Is it cramps?" He asked softly. "Did your…uh…monthly visitor come by?"
She shook her head, eyes still screwed tightly shut.
"Then what is it? Is it your hands? Do you need the doctor to take a look at them?"
"No! Go away!" she cried out. "Go! Please! Please, sir! I swear I won't escape again! I swear! I swear!"
"Oh, Peg" Will felt his heart sink. He had heard this talking before, long ago. He had thought she had gotten over such nightmares. Unless she had gotten better at hiding them from him?
The thought almost broke his heart as he swiftly shed his coat, vest and shoes and tossed them into the corner of the room without a care.
Screw propriety! Screw it all! He thought savagely as he crawled into the tiny bed with her, scooping her up in his arms so he sat with his back against the headboard and her nestled between his legs with her head tucked against his shoulder.
"No-no-no!" She tried to squirm away, but he held her tight and fast, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
"Peg, it's okay. It's me. It's Will. It's William. You're safe. You're safe." He whispered, his hands running through her curls, savouring each ringlet. "You're safe. I'm with you. They can't hurt you. They're far away, and they can't hurt you."
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" she sniffed into his chest, "I'm sorry. I know I'm not good enough…I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"
"What are you talking about? Of course, you're good enough," Will whispered fiercely, his eyes burning as he felt her cling tight. She sounded so broken, like a small girl rather than a grown woman. "You hear me, Peg! You are more than good enough. You are so sweet, so kind, so smart…You're all these things and much, much more. Whatever they're telling you, they're wrong. They're wrong. So please don't talk like that."
He nuzzled his nose against the bridge of hers as he desperately tried to get her to look him in the eye. But it was no use. She had scrunched her eyes shut so tightly as if she were trying not to look at a blinding light.
"Yo-ho, yo-ho a pirate's life for me." Will hummed under his breath as he began to gently rock back and forth and sing in a slow, soft voice:
"We kindle and char, inflame and ignite,
Drink up me hearties, yo ho!
We burn up the city, we're really a fright,
Drink up me hearties, yo ho!"
Now that he thought about it, it was such a silly song choice. However, he could not think of anything else. Besides, it was a happy tune, and so many sea chanties and folk songs were about sad topics like star-crossed lovers or death. Still, it did the job. Her sobs lessened in intensity,y though she still clung to him desperately, her body shivering as she buried her face into his neck even as he continued to sing softly.
"We're rascals, scoundrels, villains, and knaves,
Drink up me hearties, yo ho!
We're devils and black sheep, really bad eggs,
Drink up me hearties, yo ho!"
Will heard her start to gasp for breath against his skin and felt the tickle of her eyelashes as her eyes finally opened. However, he did not look down. Instead, he continued to sing the last verse.
Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me.
We're beggars and blighters, ne'er-do-well cads,
Drink up me hearties, yo ho!
Aye, but we're loved by our mommies and dads…"
He paused to kiss her hairline, his hands cupping her freckled cheeks as he pressed his forehead against hers and murmured:
"Drink up me hearties, yo ho!"
"William I…" She whined, and Will sighed in relief as he caught sight of her eyes. They were finally open, and though they were full of tears, she was awake. "Will…what are you doing? How are you-"
"You had a nightmare." He whispered, wiping her tears with his thumbs. "You were thrashing like a fish."
There was silence as he basked in the feel of her warm body nestled into his.
As awful as the situation was, he had missed this so much.
Suddenly, all the crushing aches he had felt on those lonely evenings in Mister Brown's apartments were hitting him hard like a charging bull.
He held onto everything he had cherished about her, including the feel of her in his arms, the softness of her hair…the sound of her voice…, and everything else.
Not even fretting about her being taken captive by Barbossa had made his heart ache so much.
He leaned in to nuzzle her nose against his, inhaling her scent greedily like a bee at a flower. Spices, soap and the salt of the sea…
It was almost enough to push away all thoughts of Elizabeth, Beckett, or Jack from his mind.
How he had missed it. How he missed her.
Even now, as he wrapped his arms around her, he could only think about dragging her back home to the forge, where they would wake up and start another day of laundry and blacksmithing.
Home…how funny.
For six months, he had been a tenant of Mister Brown.
But the second she was back, that apartment had felt like his home again.
"Peggy." He breathed, only to feel her push back against him.
Frowning, he pulled away and looked down to see her face turned to her lap, unable to meet his eye.
"You shouldn't be here," she mumbled.
"I couldn't let you suffer like that on your own." Will stroked a stray curl from her face. "Pegs-"
"Don't!" She cringed away from his touch as if burned. Will felt his chest sting horribly as she sighed and crawled back out of his arms.
"I'm sorry for hitting you today." She murmured as she crawled into the shadows away from him. "And I'm sorry for disturbing you just now. But I…I think it's best if we keep our distance from now on."
"Peg-"
"I'll help you find Jack and free Elizabeth. But after that, we are done." She steamrolled over the top of him.
"Peggy…what are you saying?" Will could not believe what he was hearing. Why was she talking like this? What had brought this on? "What's going on? Did something happen?"
"No-"
"Then why are you speaking like this?" Will's eyes were wide as he carefully tried crawling closer to her across the bed. "Peggy, please, look at me. You're really starting to worry me."
"No!" Peggy tried pushing him blindly away, only for Will to grab her hands in his.
"Then, please talk to me! We could always talk things out."
"I…I don't think we can this time." She wept. "I'm sorry, Will, but…after we finish with Jack, I need to go for good."
"Go? Go where?" Will frowned in confusion. "You're free now. That's the whole reason you left with Jack, right? To be free?"
"This is different-"
"Are you in trouble?" he asked suddenly. "Is that why you and Jack split? Did he dump you to save his hide?"
"No, it's not-"
"Then what? Is someone hunting him?"
"Will?"
"Or are they after you both?" Will asked sharply, gripping her hands tighter in his as she tried to yank them away.
"Let go of me, Will-"
"Who is it, Peg? Who is it that's hurt you so badly?"
"No one!"
"You're lying." Will shook his head. "Who is it? Is it Sloane? Your father?"
"No." She bleated.
"Then who?"
"Will, I can't-"
"Can't or won't?" Will scowled, clapping a hand over her mouth to muffle her yelp as he pulled in closer to whisper. "Peg, who is after you?"
But she shook her head, tears welling in her eyes.
"I can't, William…" She murmured against his hand.
Will gently moved his hand from her mouth, carefully and slowly crawling before her as if moving towards an injured animal.
"Look, Peggy-" he reached out to touch her cheek only to get his hand slapped away and his body pushed back on the bed.
"Don't touch me!"
Will stared as she curled even further into the shadows, a black shape amidst darkness with only her eyes glimmering in the dark like an animal's.
"Peg…"
"I'm sorry, William," She gulped down on the sob threatening to well up in her throat. "It's not you-I just…I can't do this anymore. For the sake of all our years of friendship, I'll help you. But after that…I think it's best if we part ways for good."
"But why?" Will paused as a horrible thought crept over him. "Is it me? Have I done something wrong?"
"Will, please go-"
"Not until you tell me what I've done! Please, Peggy," Will was now on his knees before her. "Please, Peg, tell me what I've done to you so I can fix it-"
"I…I don't think you can…" She murmured, and Will felt his heart clench at how hollow her voice sounded in her despair.
"You can't know that," he whispered in frustration, grabbing her by the shoulders and trying to look her in the eye. "How can you know that? Look, if it is me who's the problem, then maybe I can help put it right."
"You can't."
"Why?"
"Because…It's too late…it's…it's too late…" Her head fell into his chest, and she wept.
Will opened his mouth to ask her what she meant when the door to the room creaked loudly open.
"Who's making that racket?" Sloane grumbled, poking his head through a crack in the door.
His fair head of hair was unusually unkempt, and his chin had already darkened with a five-o-clock shadow.
He must have gotten out of bed. Will reasoned as the man stepped through the door in just a shirt, pants and breeches.
Upon catching sight of Will and Peggy on the bed, his green eyes narrowed suspiciously.
"What's going on here? What are you doing in Blake's room, Turner?"
"It's all fine!" Will snapped, his gut broiling at the accusing tone in the other man's voice. "She's just had a nightmare, that's all."
"What sort of nightmare?" Sloane stiffened, and Will snarled.
"None of your business."
"It is my business when it risks waking up half the crew." Sloane sighed wearily. "The Captain put me in charge of the two of you while you were her guests. Ergo, it falls on my head if something happens to either of you. Now tell me, what's going on?"
Will grimaced as he turned back to Peggy's sobbing form against his chest. She hadn't even reacted to the man entering the room. Usually, she'd have been embarrassed and would have apologised. Instead, she was just so upset she continued sobbing softly.
"It's just a nightmare, " he answered Sloane tersely, doing his best to keep his temper in check for Peggy's sake. "She gets them sometimes, but I have it under control. I know what I'm doing, " he added, his eyes flashing.
Sloane shook his head but said nothing as he ran a hand through his blonde locks, too tired to rise to the blacksmith's temper.
"Fine. If you say so." He glanced anxiously at Peggy's red head of hair. "Blake? Do you need anything?"
But Peggy did not answer, her sobs had lessened but her face was weirdly broken, dazed.
"Turner, do you need me to fetch you anything for her? Water? A bucket?"
"No," Will said bluntly.
Stupid brat. Sloane sighed. But no. He could not lose his temper. Not when the situation was so dire. If this was what he feared, then…then there was not much he could do.
"Very well. I'll leave you to it. Just try to be a little more discreet. The men have been antsy all day, and sleep-deprived pirates are not ones to be crossed." He added warningly.
Will nodded, and though it peeved him to be cautioned like a child by Sloane of all people, he also knew it was best not to argue on that point. Labelle might have been Jack's sister, but she was still a pirate, and Will did not know if she or her crew could be trusted.
He kept his eyes on Sloane as the man quietly stepped outside and shut the door to Peggy's room, leaving them alone once more.
"Sorry, Peg," Will whispered soothingly, only to blink in surprise as he felt a weight settle on his chest. "Peg-guH!"
He fell back as Peggy slumped into him, pushing them both down into the thin mattress of the cot. Yet, as Will rolled them onto their sides, he realised she was no longer sobbing.
Instead, she breathed evenly into the skin revealed by his now-open collar.
Asleep. He sighed, relieved, as he settled them both under the covers, careful not to move or disturb her lest her peace be ruined. As he did so, he noticed that she only wore an oversized man's shirt to sleep in, with no pants.
Will shook his head and groaned. She had been so underdressed, and the door had such a flimsy lock that he could break into it with one good shove.
"You're going to be the death of me." He muttered darkly as he wrapped his arms around Peggy's sleeping form again, keeping her close.
However, though his body was exhausted, his mind could hardly rest as her words echoed in his brain.
"It's too late…it's…it's too late…"
Too late for what? He frowned as he shut his eyes. What is it that has you in such a state as this?
He was vividly reminded of how scared she had been when he had discovered her pirate roots months ago.
Was it something from her past that was haunting her? If so, why not come out and say it? Hadn't he proved he could handle what she threw at him?
Then, he remembered the terror in her tear-filled eyes.
"I can't William…"
She wanted to tell him, but she believed she couldn't.
Is someone blackmailing her? Threatening her? Will's hand wrapped around her back, gripping the shirt she wore tight. But no. Jack would never have let anything happen to Peggy.
Will shivered as he remembered the blank look in the pirate's eyes as he shot Barbossa in cold blood. Jack might be a conniving, tricky backstabber sometimes, but when it came to Peggy, he'd never let anyone threaten her, not even his oldest friend.
Unless she had not told Jack…
Will grimaced, eyes still shut.
Peggy had a proud streak. She may not have told Jack for fear of him coddling her or out of a desire to prove herself.
I'll have to get answers tomorrow morning. He sighed into her hair, letting the smell lull him into a doze, aided by the familiar sway of the ship and the soft thuds of booted feet overhead.
Had he listened carefully, Will might have noticed that two worried, hushed whispers accompanied the feet above him.
"So…she's started having those nightmares?"
"It would seem that way, Captain."
"You're sure?"
"I'm sure. She did not even notice me entering the room. Even in that state, I might have expected her to scold Turner for his behaviour or get upset about it, but we got nothing. And the way she talked before that…it sounded erratic even for her."
"Shit! Then that means…"
"Yes, Captain. It means it's nearly time."
"…How long does she have?"
"I don't know. A few weeks, maybe? Maybe a month at best."
"Hmmm…"
"Captain?"
"Yes?"
"Should we tell Captain Sparrow?"
"I…I don't know…Jackie has always been fond of the girl. Losing her once really did a number on him. To lose her a second time and in such a permanent manner…"
"You think he'd fall off the deep end?"
"I don't know. And honestly, I don't know if I want to know what would happen. But not telling him and letting him find out after would probably be even worse. Jackie's not one to be trifled with when he's pushed like that."
"What about Turner?"
"What about him?"
"If we tell Sparrow about his part in all this, he might kill him."
"What's this? Fondness for the whelp, Ronan?"
"Tch! Hardly. If it weren't for the fact that killing him would probably kill Blake, I would have shot him as soon as we boarded."
"True. Very true."
"So that's it. I'm telling Sparrow what's going on?"
"Yes. You will."
"And then what?"
"I…I don't know. Stay by her side, support her, and give her as much kindness as she deserves in what little time she has. That's all we can do. Because unless that whelp manages to make a miracle happen, there's no saving the last Selkie of the Caribbean."
Notes:
And there we have it. It's a very heavy chapter, but it's got important information for later. However, as my disclaimer said, most of the important points will be reiterated in later chapters when needed, so if you feel this topic is too serious or depressing, feel free to skip it as you see fit. I have recently been looking into more things about mental health for personal reasons, and I hope you all take time to look after yourselves because there's nothing wrong with showing a little love and care to yourself, even if things are going okay.
Anyway, things should be getting lighter and more fun in the next couple of chapters as they get closer and closer to Jack. Depending on my schedule, I might have to wait a while because of life, but fingers crossed, I can nut out those chapters soon. So yeah, Sloane is a selkie but is he truly friend or foe? Who knows? In the POTC universe, it's any man's game. Will is finally getting a bit of comeuppance from Peggy, and she is finally coming to terms with the extent of her hurt feelings. I can't wait to figure out what to do with Jack when he gets involved in all this mess (cackles evilly and twiddles fingers together like Mister Burns) ooh-hoho! Yes. Boy, won't that be fun?
And now I've said enough on my part. Hope you enjoyed and keep reading, reviewing, faving and following for more :)
Adieu
FuzzyBeta
Chapter 19: A Pearl of Truth
Summary:
“I know what you want. It is very stupid of you, but you shall have your way, and it will bring you to sorrow, my pretty princess."
― The sea witch. Hans Christian Andersen, The Little Mermaid
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Will watched as Peggy thanked Captain Labelle, the two exchanging quiet words.
It had been a very long day since his and Peggy's argument.
First, he woke alone and worriedly, searching for Peggy throughout the ship to ensure she was alright, only to find her already up on deck and helping with chores. She barely acknowledged him save for grunting a small 'morning' to him before purposefully picking up a crate to block her view of him as she made her way back below deck. She kept it up for the rest of the morning, her reserve letting up slightly when the cook had given them their breakfast rations, and she began talking about their plans for when they reached shore in the evening.
However, despite Will's attempts to lighten the mood and discuss other topics, she remained stubborn and avoided talking with him unless it was necessary.
It was not the first time Will had been on the receiving end of her cold shoulder, though this perhaps was the most painful it had ever been, if only because he had no idea what he had done to deserve it.
And now the Painted Lady had finally made her way into Tortugan waters in the early evening, docking at her usual pier with barely a hitch. Despite this, the crew seemed mightily happy to be back on land again, especially in the safety of the pirate port.
"Gods, I can't believe it. It's gotten even more crowded, and it's hardly five-thirty!" Sloane muttered from Will's side as he checked a silver pocket watch. He had changed from his refined clerk's uniform into a pair of worn brown breeches and brown boots, a black shirt and a brown vest under a dark green coat, very worn and weathered from the time at sea, all tied with a dark mustard yellow sash around his waist in which he had holstered two guns and a sword.
He had not bothered to shave this morning, so his chin, while close-shaven, had a slight shadow of scruff that matched his windswept fair locks. Yet all this suited him well. He looked well at home amongst the rough and scraggly characters of Tortuga.
Will would never have guessed he could play the part of a refined English gentleman.
His new appearance did little to warm Will's opinion of him. However, the blacksmith decided it would probably be easier to guess his true motives if he put his anger on the shelf and tried to cooperate.
"It was pretty crowded the last time Peggy and I were here together." Will folded his arms as he watched Peggy hug young Jimmy goodbye.
"Oh, it's always crowded at night." Sloane shrugged. "This is different. It's never usually this crowded during the day. Most pirates prefer to sleep away the day or enjoy a wench in their beds. No, this is Lord Beckett's work. His most recent order to tighten the noose in the surrounding waters must have finally reached the rest of his ships. Not to worry," He added before Will could open his mouth. "I already told Labelle all Beckett's plans so far. She'll pass it on to the right people. I hope those people can leave Tortuga to pass on the message before it's too late."
"Too late?" Will frowned, and Sloane nodded wearily.
"Beckett wants to try and purge all piracy from the Caribbean. He'll do his best to recruit certain pirates under the EITC ruling by offering to make them privateers, but apart from those select few…Well, even those who associate with pirates unknowingly may be in danger."
"But that's…that's insane." Will stared at the male selkie in alarm. "Taking care of a few problem pirate ships is one thing, but obliterating anyone who comes into contact with them, that's-"
"Genocide." Sloane finished bluntly. "One not too dissimilar from the one my kind went through twenty years ago."
Will's stare darted between Sloane and Peggy in horror. It was one thing to hear about the Selkie Purge. But this was…this was different. This was about to happen here and now.
He looked back at the dockworkers and noted their haggard and slightly gaunt expressions. Fear was already starting to affect their everyday lives.
Will could not help but wonder how one seemingly calm and cold man like Beckett could amass such power to order the deaths of hundreds of people.
Oh god…associates of pirates…Will felt his stomach churn. Forget Elizabeth; even his neighbours in Port Royal would be in danger of such atrocities through mere association with him and Peggy.
"Now you see why I tried pushing courtship early on," Sloane muttered. "If I hadn't offered to take Blake as a wife, another one of Lord Beckett's associates would have leapt at the opportunity and used her knowledge of piracy to gain favour with her father. And let me tell you, many of those sick bastards would enjoy trying to tame Blake's temper."
"So, your bold attempts to flirt were you trying to protect her?" Will's brow furrowed. He still did not quite believe the man's motives, yet Sloane seemed genuine in his bitterness.
"As a selkie and an older brother to four girls, I would rather hang than see another female of my kind be imprisoned like that." Sloane's lip curled in distaste at the thought "You forget, Turner, women don't have many rights in 'civilised' society. Even your beloved fiancé, while more privileged than most, is limited and shackled by the rule of law. Any property of her family, her assets, monetary and otherwise, her safety, her status, and even her children aren't hers; they're all yours by law once you marry-"
"I don't care about Elizabeth's money or status-"
"Doesn't matter. Whatever your personal beliefs, by the rule of law, you practically own her once you say your vows."
Will grimaced at the thought. He was not wholly unaware of his privileges as a man in Port Royal, but the way Sloane described it almost made it sound as bad as slavery. Governor Swann might have quietly been against the idea of owning other human beings, but there were other noblemen and women in Port Royal who owned slaves to work their plantations and households.
Will had never been comfortable owning another human being, especially after being treated like a dog by Mister Brown in his youth. The idea that even a civilised person could be treated as property because of their biology made his stomach churn with disgust.
To think, Peggy might have been subjected to such a fate if she had stayed with her father.
His thoughts were interrupted by Peggy striding towards him and Sloane, shouldering a satchel full of supplies.
"Ready?"
"Whenever you are Blake."
"Good, I'm glad to see you two are finally being civil towards one another."
"For now." Will grunted before Sloane could open his mouth. "We have a job to do; we can't afford distractions or making enemies out of one another."
"Well said," Sloane smirked, enjoying the way Will bristled at the compliment.
However, to the selkie's surprise, the blacksmith schooled himself as he and Sloane followed Peggy's lead down the gangplank.
"Four sisters?"
"and two brothers." Sloane nodded. "All back home in Cape Clear, that's near Cork County. Good ol' Ireland." He added when Peggy glanced back at him with interests
"You don't sound very Irish?" Will pointed out.
"I had to train myself out of my accent when I began spying on Lord Beckett." Sloane sighed. "It was difficult, but unfortunately necessary if you want to be taken seriously by men like him."
"And your siblings?" Peggy asked quietly, and Sloane shrugged.
"Most of them have grown up and moved out onto their own lives. Only the twins Aisling and Oscar remain with my sister Fiona, but it won't be long till they are old enough to get married and move out. Last I heard, Oscar's starting to get into trouble with quite a few girls and their fathers." He chuckled and shook his head. "Little blighter, he'll be quite the heartbreaker when he comes of age."
"Yes…heartbreaker…" Will stroked his chin thoughtfully as his eyes wandered to the small taverns and buildings lining the pier. "You don't think Jack-"
"Will be in a brothel?" Sloane finished following Will's gaze. "I do not know. I don't see the Pearl anywhere, but he could have moored her offshore since it's so crowded. Still not a bad place to start."
"If he is in a brothel, he'll visit the Dandy-Lion's Den or Madame Celia's," Peggy grunted. "But before that, we'll go to the Twelve Daggers. That's where I promised to meet him after I left. We can reserve a room or two while we're there."
"I don't know how you think you'll get a safe room this time, Blake," Sloane grunted as a drunkard swayed across his path.
"Oh, I will. Anna will make sure we do."
"Anna?" Will frowne.d "Wai,t you don't mean-"
"Annamaria. Yes." Peggy nodded curtly, and Wil frowned.
"She retired from Jack's crew?"
"Her brother recently had a baby, so now she's helping him run the inn," Peggy explained. "Be warned, she's got a lot on her plate, so she may not be too happy to see you. She's hardly happy to see Jack when he shows his face." She added with a slight smirk, remembering how exasperated Annamaria's face got whenever Jack strolled in with a wench or two on his arm that he had picked up from the streets.
It did not take them long to reach the Twelve Daggers. As they walked, they occasionally stopped to ask different pirates if they had seen Jack around.
However, even at this time, most pirates they came across were so drunk off their faces that they could hardly see anyone or were too busy trying to rush indoors they barely came up with an answer.
Eventually, Will had the bright idea of approaching Scarlett and Giselle for news about Jack, having remembered their faces from the previous visit to Tortuga.
"Jack Sparrow?" Giselle turned to Scarlett, who smirked viciously at Will.
"Haven't seen 'im in a month."
"When you find him, will you give him a message?" Giselle's sneer widened as she stalked up to Will.
Kathwack!
Peggy could not help but smile a little as the force of the slap almost made Will spin on the spot. She knew she should feel sorry for him. After all, that smack was meant for Jack, and given his record with the ladies of Tortuga, he deserved their ire. But after all that she had gone through in the past few days it felt good to see someone else other than her give Will a little taste of vengeance.
And yet, despite her pettiness, a small part of her felt disgusted with herself.
Whatever he had done to her, Will was still her friend for ten years. He did care for her…in his way…so long as it benefitted himself…
To Peggy's surprise and gladness, it did not take them long to find Annamaria or the Twelve Daggers, for the ex-smuggler was there to greet them at the door. Or rather, they caught her tossing a bum onto his face in the mud.
"An' stay there, ya cheap bilge-rat!" She snarled, dusting her hands off as she straightened up.
As soon as she saw Peggy's copper curls approaching her, her scowling face split into a warm smile.
"Peggy! You're back!"
"Hey, Anna." Peggy sighed, accepting Anna's tight hug as she got within arm's reach.
"I'm glad you got back so soon. I was worried you'd gotten caught by the EITC. I swear, the buggers are swarming everywhere now." Annamaria whispered into her ear, only to stiffen as she looked over Peggy's shoulder and saw Will standing a few feet away with Sloane, both men smiling and standing awkwardly, waiting for an introduction.
"Turner…" Annamaria scowled as Will tried a small, awkward wave.
"Uh… Hello, Anna. Nice to see you again." He gulped as she narrowed her eyes venomously at him. Thanks to a small pinch from Peggy on her back, Annamaria merely grunted in response and chose to look at Sloane.
"And you? Who are you?"
"Sloane, Ronan Sloane." Sloane gave his most charming grin and tilted his head to Annamaria, unphased by her suspicion. "Captain Labelle sent me to watch over these two."
"Fine, come in then." Annamaria nodded, though her eyes narrowed as she quickly pulled back to haul Peggy inside. She left Will and Sloane behind to follow at their own pace.
"I thought you said you would just warn Turner and leave him high and dry for good? What happened?" Annamaria hissed as she dragged Peggy through the already crowded and rowdy floor of the Twelve Daggers and over to the bar, which Peggy noticed was being manned by one of Annamaria's uncles.
"It's a long story-" Peggy sighed heavily.
"Oh, I bet it is." Annamaria scoffed, shaking her head as she wrapped her knuckles on the bar and gestured to her uncle for some ale for the both of them. "And ain't that Sloane fellow the one you warned me-"
"Yes." Peggy rolled her eyes. "Like I said, long story. One I'd rather not repeat out in the open."
"I am going to take a wild bet anyway and say that it involves a noble lubber brat named Swann?" Anna huffed, and Peggy could not help but smile at the fierce expression on her friend's face. "If that idiot asked you to help him save her again-"
"He didn't," Peggy muttered as she accepted her mug of ale and took a swig. "But he needs Jack's help to save her, and I need to find Jack for my own business, so our interests are aligned for now."
"Well, if you're lookin' for Jack, he ain't been around since you left six days ago." Annamaria scowled as Will and Sloane finally managed to jostle through the crowds and reach the bar.
"Goodness, what a crowd!" Sloane groaned as he stretched out his back and leaned against the bar. "Ale stat!" he called, setting down some coin on the bar top. At once, two mugs of ale appeared for him and Will, who nodded gratefully as he managed to squeeze his way out of a drunken prostitute's tight hold of his arm and reached the bar.
As the two men glugged down a couple of swigs of ale in silence, Annamaria turned her back on them to look Peggy up and down with a critical eye.
"You look a bit peaky," she muttered darkly. "I'll get Ma to rustle up some grub for you on the house. And you can stay in my room tonight. As for Turner and that one-" she glanced over her shoulder to glower at the two men as they paused in their drinking. "We only have one room available, and it ain't big. They'll have to either take it or sleep somewhere else tonight because we don't have the room."
"That's fine!" Will nodded gratefully at the ex-smuggler. "We can manage in one room."
"Aye. I'm sure I can deal with anythin' this whelp throws my way." Sloane grinned as Will shot him a filthy glare over his tankard.
"We'll see."
Peggy groaned as the two men downed the last of their drinks in unison, their eyes cold and vicious as they silently sized one another up again like a pair of young bucks ready to charge. Ugh! What was with these two? Peggy understood Will's suspicion of the man and even shared some of it, but he was making a fool of himself with this petty rivalry. It was worse than dealing with him and Jack.
"See what I've had to deal with." She muttered to Annamaria, who rolled her eyes as Will ordered another round of drinks.
"Men!" Annamaria shook her head in exasperation as she turned to her uncle and asked, "Oy! Tio Mattias! Does Ma still have some of her fish stew?"
"Plenty of it left," Mattias grunted, nodding gruffly at Peggy in greeting before glancing at Will. Sloane's bristling forms behind Anna's back. "I'll save some bowls for you and your lads there?"
"Thanks, Mattias. O-oh, and," Peggy whispered into his ear, leaning over the bar. "For those two, make it extra hot."
"You got it, lass." Mattias nodded with a conspiratorial wink. "Leave it to me and Ma; we know how to handle two annoying pups."
"Ay, you are mad at 'im! Good, he deserves it!" Annamaria laughed and raised her mug of ale in a toast, which Peggy met with a tired chuckle.
"How's the Commodore doing?" She asked quietly as the musicians on the stage began playing a more lively hut to get the crowd going.
"Not too bad." Annamaria shrugged. "He's been drinking a lot less, probably because Ma and Da won't let him anywhere near the bar until after he's eaten a proper meal. Unless it's his day off, then he drinks like a fish. As for work, he's been useful when he's sober. He works hard and doesn't complain about the smell. Ma's got him helping scrub pots and pans in the back so he stays out of trouble, and sometimes he helps my brother breakin' up a few fights when it's busy. He's a tall fellow, and he knows how to shout. Must be all that time in the navy."
Peggy nodded, her shoulders sagging in relief. She had been worried about Norrington adapting to pirate life since she had seen him so defeated in that alleyway.
"You can talk to him later if you'd like. When these two are out of your hair and the dinner rush ends, I'll take you to him." Annamaria jerked her thumb in the direction of the kitchens. "I think it'd do him good to see ye. He was about as worried about you finding that one as I was."
"Really?" Peggy wondered aloud, and Annamaria looked at her with annoyance.
"Peggy, do you realise what you did for the poor bloke? I mean, that bastard behind me took his girl and his reputation and left him high and dry with nothing. On top of that, no one here would give him a chance to start over, not even me…no one except you. He's in your debt!"
"I…" Peggy felt her cheeks burn in embarrassment. "I only felt a little sorry for him."
"Yeah, well, that's more than anyone else has probably done for the bugger in a long time. Well, except my Ma. She's grown quite fond of him." Annamaria rolled her eyes.
"So have you. Coming to his defence so quickly." Peggy smirked, and it was Annamaria's turn to blush a little.
"Bullshit! I don't have to be fond of someone to know what happened to him was shitty. Besides, he's probably the only one who knows what it's like to get hurt by that one." She jerked her head irritably at Will, who was now desperately trying to fob off a fair-haired, pink-dressed prostitute trying to hit on him. Sloane was no longer beside him, having started chatting up the wench's friend, a very pretty red-haired woman with short corkscrew curls and a low-cut dark blue dress. The two of them were coming to some arrangement, for Peggy could see the selkie's large hands wandering over the woman's rather curvy backside.
For the first time, Peggy envied the wenches around her. She did not have anything against prostitutes in general. They were just fellow women like herself trying to make a living in a world where the deck was always pitted against them. To sell one's body was not easy by any stretch, and from what she had heard over the years, it could often be a rather terrifying experience if johns were particularly nasty. It was fear of that sort of violent treatment that kept Peggy from pursuing such work.
However, now that she knew her life was nearly up, she wondered what it would be like to carelessly give her body away and enjoy the pleasures of the flesh with a good-looking man for a night.
Yet even as the thought crossed her mind, she could feel her insides coil and shrivel. Bitterly, she took another large swig of ale from her tankard, downing the last of it.
No…No…even if she wanted to have sex with a stranger to ease her loneliness, her body would not agree to it. Even now, she could feel her bond with Will, drawing her eyes towards him. It was as if it were trying to tell her that she would not accept anyone between her legs but him, even if she were drunk off her face.
Great. Just great! She slammed her tankard on the bar. I can't enjoy one first and last romp in the sheets because of him. I'm going to die an insane, miserable, lonely virgin.
Her heart ached as Will seemed to feel her gaze upon him and turned to look in her direction. His brow furrowed as he gently maneuvered the wench trying to hit on him onto another patron.
She wondered what he saw when he looked at her with such concern.
I'm probably a pathetic mess that cannot compare to his precious, perfect Elizabeth. She mused bitterly, returning her attention to Annamaria, who watched her sadly as she handed her another mug of ale.
"Yikes, you are not doing okay, are you?" She tutted almost motherly, frowning as she reached out to tilt Peggy's face from side to side.
"I thought I could handle it," Peggy mumbled, feeling her eyes burn. Damn the alcohol! It always made her extra weepy. "I thought I could see him again and be done with it. But honestly, I…I'm an idiot, aren't I?"
"I don't know about that." Annamaria took a swig of her ale. "Maybe it's a good thing you got to see him again."
"What?" Peggy blinked. In all her months moping around, Annamaria had staunchly opposed her running back to see Will or even think about him. If anything, she was just as angry to hear Will's name being mentioned as Jack was, and that was saying a lot, as the Pirate Lord was still very peeved with the blacksmith.
"Well, while he was out of the picture, you weren't exactly going anywhere with your grief; you were just kinda stuck, weren't you? In a constant state of moping and wondering, 'what if? this or 'what if?' that.'" Annamaria shrugged. "In the end, Labelle was right. It might be painful, but if you wanted to find peace with what happened, then you needed to see what a piece of work Turner was for yourself. Otherwise, how else could you be sure that you made the right decision to leave his ungrateful arse in the first place?"
Peggy stared into her ale tankard listlessly.
It made sense, she supposed. If she were a regular human and this was a typical betrayal of the heart, seeing Will again like this would have bolstered her to find someone better and move on.
But alas, she was not a normal human. She was a selkie. A stupid-stupid selkie who had bonded with him to such an extent that she could not enjoy the companionship of another man beyond simple friendship. She wondered if this was why she opposed courtship from the other young men in Port Royal. It must have been.
She was glad when Mattias chose that moment to return from the kitchen with a tray of steaming hot fish soup.
"Come! We'll eat at one of the tables; let the bar stay free." Annamaria clapped Peggy on the shoulder before barking at Will and Sloane, "Oy! You two louts! Dinner's here! If you don't come now, I'll feed it to the pigs."
Will groaned as he stood and stretched his arms above his head.
The room he and Sloane had shared in the Twelve Daggers was cramped and tiny. That was not a problem. Will was used to sleeping in smaller spaces than this. He just wished he had not been forced to lie on the floor and listen to Sloane having a turn with the prostitute in the room's thin and rough bed for nearly half the night.
Will scowled as he eyed the sleeping woman draped over the muscular, fair-haired selkie's body under the sheets.
The prostitute's red hair was not too dissimilar in colour and form to Peggy's, though it was cut short around her ears and duller and darker than her fiery copper. She also had no freckles and was a little plumper and curvier than Peggy, who, despite her curves, was lean and lightly muscled from long hours spent training with swords and sailing.
However, from the small glimpses he had accidentally caught of the pair while tossing and turning with his pillow over his ears to block the sound, Will knew it was no accident that Sloane had selected this particular woman's company for the night.
It did not help that the male selkie had been very gentle and concerned for Peggy before she had split to spend the night with Annamaria's family.
Will snarled as he remembered the friendly pat on the shoulder and the gentle bidding of goodnight.
He knew he had to play nice for all their sakes, but there was a limit to taunting Will could take. Just who did Sloane think he was? Playing the kind, gentle friend then bringing a prostitute that looked like Peggy to bed with Will in the room?
Was this his sick attempt to prove to Will that he was the better man in this situation?
Whatever it was, whatever sleep Will did have was not restful. Instead, it was plagued by awful dreams where Peggy was in the prostitute's place in Sloane's bed, making those noises of pleasure. Worse, when Will tried to banish such appalling thoughts, he found his mind putting himself in Sloane's place with Peggy beneath him.
Will gritted his teeth as he strode out of the room and slammed the door behind him, not caring if he woke the remaining occupants.
As shameful as it was, it had not been the first time he had such a dream about Peggy. Back in his adolescence, he had many similar lustful dreams of several attractive women and girls he knew, Elizabeth included. However, when it came to Peggy, he always felt strangely embarrassed, not of her, but of himself and did his best to squash the thoughts before his mind could run away with the fantasy. She was his housemate, and she endured enough leering and unwanted attention from other men without having to be made uncomfortable about his sinful thoughts. Granted, she had always been a pretty girl and had grown more beautiful over the years...
But that dream last night had been different than the lustful imaginings of a hormonal and curious teenage boy.
Last night, he felt…possessive…angry. The closest he had ever come close to feeling that way was the first time Mister Brown had stolen his earnings. Will had felt a savage urge to beat the snot out of his drunkard master, take his first sword away from the customer and shout from the rooftops it was his.
But Peggy had no property to sell or own. She was a person, free to be with whoever she pleased…in whatever way she pleased…and yet…
Yet, Will was unsure if he felt comfortable with her being intimate with anyone, especially Sloane—anyone but HIM!
Will silently cursed himself as his mind wandered back to that incident with Gabrielle in The Faithful Bride, how his eyes had wandered down the front of Peggy's open shirt to ogle her bosom. Then he thought about that morning just before they had first rescued Elizabeth from Barbossa when he had awoken beside Peggy. He knew he shouldn't have, but he enjoyed the softness and warmth of her body pressed against his.
Then, that night before the battle at Isla de Muerta. That awful night, he had feared he would never see her again, only to be granted one last meal together.
Will raised a hand to his lips, groaning softly in frustration as he remembered the way Peggy had kissed him so gently but so desperately. Was that her first kiss? He knew men were interested in her, but she barely seemed interested in other men. Sure, she admitted to him that certain men were attractive, and she did sometimes get bashful seeing handsome men like any other young woman her age, but she was always quick to shrug it off. The only other closest male relationship she really had was with Jack, and they were…Well, Will was not quite sure what they were, but it was not romantic, which is why he had no problem with her choosing to sail with him.
To think that Sloane thought he could worm his way into her skirts almost made Will want to thrash the living daylights out of the other man. He did not care if he was the only Selkie who could help Peggy learn more about her heritage. He would not have his way with her and toss her around! What if she bonded with Sloane, and he betrayed her? Then she'd die because of his selfishness! Will could not let that happen.
He would not let that happen.
Will snarled to himself as he stormed out of the inn and towards the back, where a small house was set up separate from the main building.
Annamaria and her family stayed in a small house just behind the inn with only a few small rooms, far removed from the patrons for privacy and security. It was a safe place to sleep if only because one of Annamaria's many brothers or cousins was always on guard day or night on shifts while the rest of the family took turns minding the house, and nearly all occupants owned a firearm or sword. Peggy had spent the night with Annamaria and a few of her siblings and their children so while it was crowded, Will was sure she was safe.
Unlike Elizabeth, who was probably still stuck in a cell back in Port Royal. Good god, Will ran a hand through his hair. All this worrying about Peggy and he'd almost forgotten about his fiancé who was imprisoned for piracy because of him!
But then again, of course,e he was worried about Peggy. Elizabeth might be in danger, but at least she had her father's influence and protection. He'd find some way to keep her safe and secure until Will returned.
Peggy…who did she have to look after her without Jack?
Sure, Labelle had been a gracious host to them, but even Peggy did not seem to trust the woman, and as for Annamaria…Annamaria was trustworthy and a loyal friend to Peggy, but she was devoted to staying with her family in Tortuga.
Will sighed only to suck in a sharp breath as singing wafted into his ears through the open windows of the small home as one of Annamaria's brothers opened to let the steam out from where they were cooking something delicious for breakfast:
I'll tell you a tale of the bottomless blue
An' it's hey to the starboard, heave ho!
Brave sailor, beware, 'cause a big 'uns a-brewin'
Mysterious fathoms below!
Heave ho! Heave ho!
From whence wayward westerlies blow!
Where Triton is king
And his merpeople sing
In mysterious fathoms below!
Will shut his eyes and smiled as he let her voice wash over him like a soothing balm. How many months had it been since he woke up to her singing? He knew it was six months, but it felt like forever. He had almost forgotten how calming her voice was.
Down there be livin' the king of the sea
An' it's hey to the starboard, heave ho!
The son of the god of the oceans is he
In mysterious fathoms below!
Heave ho! Heave ho!
From whence wayward westerlies blow!
Where Triton is king
And his merpeople sing
In mysterious fathoms below!
The salt on your skin and the wind in your hair
And the waves as they ebb and they flow
Swim deep in the blue depths if you dare
In mysterious fathoms below!
Heave ho! Heave ho!
From whence wayward westerlies blow!
Where Triton is king
And his merpeople sing
In mysterious fathoms below!
Opening his eyes, Will's feet moved forward as if in a trance towards the front door, which was also open, though Annamaria stood on the threshold shaking out a damp dishcloth.
The tail of a fish and a conch in his hand
An' it's hey to the starboard, heave ho!
The merpeople come and go by his command
In mysterious fathoms below
Heave ho! Heave ho!
From whence wayward westerlies blow!
Where Triton is king
And his merpeople sing
In mysterious fathoms below!
As Will approached, Annamaria nodded a curt 'morning'. Her eyes narrowed, and he merely bobbed his head politely in return, his attention fixed on the song still flowing from within the tiny house.
The king of the ocean gets angry
An' when he gets angry, beware!
I'm tellin' ya, lad, when King Triton is mad
How the waves'll buck, rock to and fro!
Hold on, good luck, as down you go!
Heave ho! Heave ho!
From whence wayward westerlies blow!
Where Triton is king
And his daughters all swim in
In mysterious fathoms below!
Annamaria's nostrils flared as she watched the blacksmith peek around the door frame and into the communal living space. Peggy sat by the hearth with a few dark-skinned and dark-haired children around her. Some of the older children were peeling fruit and potatoes for their elders, while the younger ones held toys or scraped peels from the floor and put them into bowls for disposal. All of them were listening in joy and delight as the red-haired selkie woman sat in their midst with one of the younger toddlers, a little girl, and braided her hair as she sang.
The daughters of Triton are fair it is true
An' it's hey to the starboard, heave ho!
Seven sea maids for the Seven Seas sing
In mysterious fathoms below!
Heave ho! Heave ho!
From whence wayward westerlies blow!
Where Triton is king
And his daughters all sing
In mysterious fathoms below!
Oh no…he's not…no. Stinking little bilge rat, don't you dare! Annamaria scowled as Will's eyes softened upon the peaceful domestic scene, his gaze transfixed upon Peggy's peaceful smile. Annamaria remembered how the lad had pinned for Elizabeth Swann the same way after they rescued her from Barbossa.
Just what is his deal? Annamaria's teeth grit in her skull as she willed herself to keep her usually fierce mouth shut. He has a fiancé! He chose to be with that dainty little lady of his, and yet now he has her, and he's chasing after Peggy. Lubber Pig! How dare he?! After everything he put her through!
Aye there's mermaids out in the bottomless blue
An' it's hey to the starboard, heave ho!
Watch out for 'em, lad, or you'll go to your ruin
Mysterious fathoms below!
Heave ho! Heave ho!
From whence wayward westerlies blow!
Where Triton is king
And his merpeople sing
In mysterious fathoms below!
As the last note faded, Will could not help but wonder at his friend. He had not heard of this shanty before. Was it a new one she had picked up on her travels? The children certainly enjoyed it from the way some of the little ones squealed with delight and shouted, "Again! Again!" while clapping with the older ones.
"Now you've done it! She won't let you leave now." One of the older children, a young lad in middling adolescence, smirked, earning himself a slight poke from his siblings. "Face it, Blake, you're stuck with us forever!"
"Nonsense. I am sure you found ways to part with me before you managed to do so again." Peggy snorted at the boy's cheek, cheeks blushing as some small ones started clamouring for another song.
Will opened his mouth to speak, but Annamaria quickly cut across him:
"Don't!" with a glower, the ex-pirate shut the door in his face so she and Will were separated from Peggy and the children.
Will stared at Annamaria in surprise. He knew she was not particularly fond of him, but he had not expected this much hostility from her first thing in the morning.
"I beg your pardon?" He raised an eyebrow, and Annamaria's dark eyes hardened.
"You heard me; leave her alone. I see how you look at her, and honestly, I should slap you!"
"Excuse me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Will returned the glower, but Annamaria was not phased.
"Oh, don't act all dumb, Turner." She hissed, trying to keep her voice down so the children would not hear her. "How could you dare to chase after Peggy like this after you dumped her?"
"I dumped her?" Will's nostrils flared. "How dare you – Peggy was the one who left me-"
"And why do you think she did that, hmm?" Annamaria snarled, "She risked her life and freedom for you, and you go and toss her for some noble brat! And now here you are six months later, hounding after her like some lovesick puppy the minute she becomes useful to you again. You should be ashamed of yourself!"
Will's nostrils flared. All the warmth and softness of Peggy's singing felt like a distant dream, now replaced by hot rage. He could tell Annamaria and Peggy had grown close in the last six months, but who was she to judge his actions? He was Peggy's friend for much longer than she had been.
"Lovesick puppy? You don't know what you're talking about-" he growled at her, trying to keep his fraying temper in check.
"Oh, don't I?" Annamaria snarled with the ferocity of a lioness, voice still low and deadly. "You might have known her for ten years, Turner, but you weren't there for her for these last six months. Where were you for her when she cried to sleep night after night because of how you hurt her? Where were you when she had nightmares about Barbossa or the Devil hurting you? Where were you? That's right, in the arms of that blonde chit who barely lifted a finger to be with you for ten years when Peggy risked everything to make you happy because she was in love with you?! And now here you are, shamelessly bothering her and expecting her to cater to your every whim as adoringly as she once did after you tossed her aside like trash? I always knew you'd end up being bad news, but not even I thought you'd stoop to being such low scum!"
Will felt like a bucket of ice had been thrown in his face.
"What did you just say?"
"I said not even I thought you could-"
"I meant about Peggy being in love." Will snapped, clapping a hand over Annamaria before she could raise her voice. "What the hell do you mean she's in love with me?"
"Exactly what I said," Annamaria whispered fiercely, yanking his hand off her mouth roughly. "Oh, come on, Turner, it's so obvious! Everyone has seen it! Jack saw it, Gibbs, me! Everyone! She loves you more than as a friend. Even now, when she's pissed at you, she still loves you and wants you to be happy. Why do you think she's keeping her mouth shut about what's bothering her? She doesn't want you to feel guilty even though you probably should be grovelling at her feet begging for her forgiveness."
"That's not true!" Will breathed, hands shaking and heart hammering as each word hit him with the force of a bullet. "Peggy's not…she can't be in love with me. She-she can't-"
"The proof is right in front of you, Will Turner." Annamaria hissed, dragging him away from the door as one of her siblings opened it to let some smoke out from the house, along with the smell of something burning. "Why do you think a selkie of all creatures would stick by you, look after your home, cook your meals, follow you into certain death without any thought of anything in return? Didn't you ever in that tiny brain of yours wonder why she stayed with you on land for ten years even though the ocean probably called so loudly it ached?"
Will did not know what to think. Yes, he had often wondered what had kept Peggy on land when her selkie side had such a close connection to the ocean, but he had thought it was because she was afraid of getting hunted by the EITC. The idea that she stayed because of him…that she had risked so much because she was in love with him of all people…
No…no, Annamaria had to be wrong. She had to be.
Maybe Peggy did love him, but one didn't have to be in love with someone to feel love for them. If Peggy's relationship with Jack had taught Will anything, a man and woman could still love one as family and not have romantic attachments. And yet…
He felt his lips tingle at the memory of her kiss aboard the Black Pearl, her desperate pleading with Barbossa to keep him alive and not hurt him… the sorrow in her eyes every time he caught her looking at him and Elizabeth…
"No…no…no-no-no-"
"Oh, come on, Turner, I'm spelling it out for you, and you still cannot take responsibility."
"No, you don't…you don't understand." Will gulped as his heart began to race with panic. "You…you don't. Peggy can't be in love with me; she can't!"
"She is."
"No! You must be mistaken-"
"I'm not. She told me so herself."
"She…she told you?"
"The day she came back to the Pearl." Annamaria sighed in exasperation as if she were trying to reason with a toddler.
The ice-cold feeling hit Will in the face more powerfully than before, the force of it making him reel so severely he almost felt ready to throw up.
He could not believe it.
He just couldn't…Peggy could not be in love with him. Not all this time.
No, that could not be true! She could not be in love with him because if she were, that meant when he chose to marry Elizabeth, she would…she would…No…NO!
But she can't be in love with me! She can't!
Yet even as he thought this, another memory surfaced in his mind. A memory of a drunken naval official who had sneered in his face:
"You truly must be a pathetic fool if you thought a woman like Miss Blake would ever be happy watching you slobber over another woman after all the pain and heartache you put her through."
No…no Peggy can't be in love with me…maybe she's confused. He thought wildly. Perhaps she thinks she loves me because we've lived together for so long. She can't love me…because if she loves me, then…, then…she'll…she will…no. No it can't be true! She can't have bonded with me! She can't! If she did, that means when I chose Elizabeth, she would have…no-NO!
Will shook his head, backing away from Annamaria, who was still glaring at him with the wrath of a rhino rearing to charge as the door to the tiny house opened and Peggy stepped through, chuckling as she did her best to resettle her hair wincing as her fingers got caught in the mass.
"God dammit. Well, I'll give the kid credit. She knows how to tie a good knot." Her small smile fell into a frown as she looked between the now stunned pair of Annamaria and Will, the latter staring at her with a face so pale as if he had seen a ghost.
"What the hell is going on here?" Peggy looked between the pair.
"Nothing," Annamaria grunted, shifting uncomfortably as Will stared at Peggy wide-eyed and horrified. "Just clearing the air is all."
"About what?" she blinked.
"Nothing!" Will blurted out before Annamaria could speak. "Like Anna said, nothing important…" He looked down at his toes as he tried to cough and shake himself off. "C-come on. I'll wake Sloane, and we can start searching for Jack."
And with that, he turned on his heel and began to stalk away back to the Twelve Daggers.
Peggy narrowed her eyes at Annamaria.
"All right, what the hell is going on, Anna?"
"I caught him lurking around tryin' to catch a peek of ye through the windows." Annamaria snapped. "He can visit if he likes, so long as he knocks on the door like a normal person. But you know the rules. Don't come around lurking unless you want to get a hiding. He should count himself lucky I was the one who caught him because at least I know what he looks like. If one of my brothers caught him, they'd string him up by the ankles over the door."
"He probably did not want to interrupt anyone." Peggy shook her head.
"No, he just wanted to stare at you while you were singing like some lovestruck fool." Annamaria rolled her eyes. "And the way he was lookin' at you? He should be ashamed! He has a fiancé; what does he think he's doing simpering after you like that?"
"Will doesn't love me, Anna. He's probably still worried about me after what happened." Peggy groaned. "I told you before, he's an extreme worrywart at the best and worst times. And what happened the day before yesterday…he's probably still anxious I will go off the deep end again."
"How do you feel today?" Annamaria quirked a brow, and Peggy sighed.
"Still shitty in here." She patted her heart. "But it did help sleeping in a proper bed last night. Not to mention your ma's cooking hit the spot, so thanks."
"No need to thank me." Annamaria waved her off, though Peggy could see the relief in the woman's face clear as day. "Ma would never have let me off the hook if we didn't look after ye like one of the family after everything that went down with you and your father. Though I gotta say, never thought a guy that far up the ladder would be your dad."
"Neither did I." Peggy sighed. "I don't think he was that high up when I was younger. From what I remember, he was not a lord back then, so I don't know how that happened."
"I take it you're going to tell Jack?" Annamaria grunted, "You do know his history with the man."
"Yes. I'd much rather he hear it from me than through the grapevine." Peggy nodded grimly. "I just hope he takes it well."
"He will." Annamaria said confidently, "Even if he didn't care about you, Jack wouldn't judge you for your father's actions. How can he? You don't get a say in who your parents are. I think he'll get a real kick outta it all. Especially that part where you called your Da a 'hornswaggling bilge rat'."
"That was pretty satisfying." Peggy blushed as she and Annamaria both chuckled.
Peggy looked at her fellow pirate woman, her heart clenching in pain as a deep fondness rose within her.
These last few months had been miserable, but Annamaria had been a good friend. She would miss her terribly when she…
Annamaria shut her eyes as she let the heartbroken selkie throw her arms around her neck and hold her close, cursing herself for losing her temper with Will.
She had not meant to let the whelp get under her skin, but watching him pine for Peggy after all he had put her through…just what was wrong with him? How could one man be oblivious to the damage he caused with his antics?
Still, she should not have said anything without asking Peggy first. After leaving Port Royal, Peggy had told her everything that had happened in confidence, and, as a friend, Annamaria knew she should have honoured her trust.
But how could someone like Will be so unaware of Peggy's affection for him when it hit other people in the face like a dead fish?
She hoped Peggy would not be so mad that she spilled the beans. The girl had quite a punch to be reckoned with.
James Norrington watched with narrowed eyes from where he was cleaning the windows as Will Turner and an unknown fair-haired man met with Peggy before the Twelve Daggers.
"Do you think we can trust that fisherman?" the fair-haired man asked quietly. "I know he said a black ship with black sails-"
"It's the Pearl." Peggy nodded. "Trust me. No one else would dare imitate the Black Pearl's design. Jack may be the captain, but after her time in Hector's hands, her reputation goes beyond even him."
"Well, at least we have a lead now." Will sighed in relief. "We're running out of time, and it's the only solid intelligence we have."
"I know. I'll tell Anna we're leaving tonight."
Norrington shook his head as he returned to swabbing the grimy windows.
He could not believe it. The gall of that young blacksmith. Recruiting Peggy to help him once more after breaking her heart so brutally. Then again, Norrington knew that if Elizabeth had approached him and begged him for help, he probably would have folded just as quickly. Both he and Peggy were foolish in the face of love.
However, to the officer's surprise, both blacksmith and pirate woman were somewhat awkward around one another…no…awkward was not the right word. Peggy looked tense and brimming with stress, and Will… looked like he had just seen hell and come back. Though neither seemed able to look the other in the eye, Norrington noticed that Will always kept stealing glances at Peggy whenever he could, his expression flickering between guilt and desperation as she pointedly tried not to engage beyond necessity.
Norrington rolled his eyes. Despite his hatred of Jack Sparrow, he would agree that Will Turner was a pathetic whelp. He hurt someone who gave her life for him, and now he was sulking because she was giving him a taste of his own medicine?
As for the information he had just heard, he wondered what trouble the blacksmith and the ex-washerwoman had gotten themselves into this time.
Peggy and Jack Sparrow split only last week, and she was already desperate to return to her captain's side. Norrington did not quite understand Peggy's bond with the enigmatic knave, but he admired her loyalty nonetheless. Given her loyalty and prowess with a sword, she would have made an exemplary officer for the crown if she had been born a man.
He was surprised when Peggy looked around and spotted him at his chore. She quickly excused herself as Sloane steered Will into the Twelve Daggers to pack for their new journey.
"Peggy," Norrington clipped as Peggy ducked beneath a passing beam being carried by two pirates to reach him.
"James," She nodded.
"I see Turner has wiggled his way back into your waiting arms." Norrington drawled, and Peggy sighed.
"Yeah, well, you know how it is. You try and avoid fate, and it somehow ends up screwing you over anyway."
Norrington nodded in grim agreement. Ah, so this arrangement was not her design. That would explain her unsettled expression.
Yet there was something else behind her gaze he could not quite understand.
A lingering bittersweet sadness.
"Is there something I can help you with, Peggy?" He asked, his tone gentler than before as he tried to gauge the young woman's unusual mood. She usually looked so strong and in command of herself, but now…now something inside her seemed fragile…broken even.
"Me…nothing much…" She shook her head and sighed. "Actually…I…I came to say goodbye."
"Goodbye?" He quirked a brow at her surprisingly sombre tone.
"Yes I…This is…You see…this is my last time in Tortuga." She suddenly looked sheepish.
"The last time?" Norrington frowned. Now, he could hear the brokenness in her voice. She sounded tired, weary…like someone very sick waiting for the final nail to be driven into the coffin.
"Yeah…I've…I've got some business to take care of with Jack and Will, and after that I…I won't be in the Caribbean for a while."
"I see…" Norrington frowned as the younger woman shifted uncomfortably on her feet.
"I know what you're probably thinking." She mumbled distractedly, "Why am I telling you this? I…the truth is I just wanted to tie up some loose ends before I left for good."
"Indeed?"
"Yes…look, James…I know I played a part in ruining your good standing in life, and I…I just wanted to…I'm sorry." She looked up at him in earnest. "I truly am sorry for the part I played in losing your commission."
Norrington stared at the young woman.
He was not quite sure what to say. First, she returned his handkerchief to him and helped him land a semi-stable job with lodgings, and now this?
He would not deny that a small part of him felt vindicated by her apology. It had been a long time in coming. He had lost everything that day because of Peggy and Will's actions to free Jack. However, Norrington could not help but feel sorry for the young woman before him.
He was not quite sure how, but he felt that even though he was barely scraping below rock bottom, somehow, in the last few days, she had managed to sink to such a low point that even he could not see.
She was not acting deplorably or pathetically; rather, the spark of life had vanished from her eyes.
"Peggy..." He said carefully, putting down his wet rag and bucket and looking at the younger woman. "Did…did something happen between you and Turner?"
"No!" she coughed, only to grimace as he quirked an imperious brow at her, not too dissimilar from the ones he often used to spare for an officer trying to pass a fib. "Well…sort of…it's…complicated." She sighed, running a hand over her head of copper curls.
"I…Well…I guess I'm…I'm sick."
"What?" Norrington's brow furrowed, and Peggy sighed, her gaze averting to the tavern wall and her eyes shutting as she listened to raucous laughter and music already starting within.
When she spoke next, Norrington was alarmed by how calm she sounded.
"I'm sick. Well, more than sick…I'm dying."
Norrington felt his blood run cold. This was…he had not expected this.
"When did you find out?" He asked, almost dreading the answer.
"A few days ago," Peggy muttered, folding her arms and leaning back into the tavern's grubby outer wall. "But I…I had been feeling the symptoms of my condition for a few months already. I did not know what they meant till now."
"Does anyone else know?" Norrington asked, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Does Turner-"
"No…no, I haven't told Will." Peggy shook her head. "I've been meaning to tell him…but honestly, I don't know how. You're…you're the first person I've told. I haven't even told Anna."
Norrington did not know what to say to that.
He was not quite sure what he had done to earn her trust. Even Peggy did not know why she had confided in him. Perhaps the damage they had shared at Turner's hands made her feel like she could trust him.
The thought was depressing in its own right.
"And Sparrow?"
"No…Jack doesn't know." Peggy murmured, and Norrington felt his heart break as he caught sight of the wetness in her eyes. "Forget William; I have no idea how I will tell Jack the news."
"…and how long do you think you have?"
Peggy looked at her toes.
"A few weeks. A month, perhaps, if the gods are kind." She fell silent as a pair of arms wrapped tight around her.
Norrington, meanwhile, sucked in a deep breath to soothe his own heightened emotions as he hugged Peggy close to his chest. He knew he must have reeked of sweat and alcohol, but to his surprise, she did not reel away from his comfort.
In his old life, he had done his best to be prim and proper, and though he had slid off the deep end in recent months, he had never really indulged in human companionship beyond yelling, fist fights and even the occasional night with a whore. But what else could he do in the face of such a tragedy?
Peggy Blake was a young woman barely into adulthood. She had hardly had the chance to live an entire life, and already she was on death's doorstep before she had the opportunity to truly live for herself?! She'd never marry or have children. She'd never find true peace.
Why was fate being so cruel to one already suffering so much?
"I'm so sorry." He murmured, cursing himself for how clumsily the words had slipped out his mouth.
Peggy shut her eyes as she let herself return the embrace. It was a little awkward. She had not expected comfort like this from a person like Norrington, but she would not deny it felt nice to be held.
Jack only hugged her occasionally and privately, where no one else would see his tender side. Sloane was…well, it was nice, but she was not sure she trusted him, Selkie or not. Of course, she had a moment of weakness a day or so, and he had respected her, but still…
And as for Will…Well, hugging him recently only made the pain in her chest feel worse rather than better.
However… Norrington hardly knew her, but it was true. After what they had been through at the hands of Will and Elizabeth, Peggy would not deny feeling a slight kinship with the man.
He quickly released her after a few seconds, holding her by the shoulders.
"Forgive me." He murmured. "Do you…do you need anything? Would you like me to tell Anna on your behalf?"
Peggy shook her head.
"No. I…I'd rather not tell her. If she knew she'd never let me leave and I…I need to tell Jack…I need to see the Pearl one more time."
Norrington nodded in understanding. He did not find the Black Pearl a beautiful ship after being the leader of a vessel like the Interceptor or the Dauntless. She was striking, true, but not to his tastes. However, he could understand Peggy's longing to go back.
From what little he had gathered about her past, the vessel was her home, and if she truly were going to meet her maker, she would want to be in a place that comforted her.
"Sorry," Peggy muttered apologetically. "Here you are minding your own business, and I fling this shit on you."
"You don't need to apologise." Norrington shook his head. "You needed to get it out of your system. Are you sure you don't want me to do anything for you before you leave?"
"Just one thing." Peggy smiled weakly as she patted him on the shoulder. "Live a good life, James Norrington. You survived that hurricane for a reason; don't waste the time the gods gave you…not like I have."
And with that, she walked off, leaving James Norrington to stare at the back of her long copper curls with sad eyes.
"Goodbye, Peggy Blake. And thank you."
Notes:
And there we have it! Chapter 19. Someone finally told Will about Peggy's feelings! Bloody hell, even I was starting to get annoyed with his blindness, and I'm the writer, so yeah. It happened!
I was not originally planning for it to happen, but as soon as I got to Annamaria's part, my fingers would not stop. Annamaria does not know Peggy is going to die, but after watching her friend suffer for months, homegirl is not going to take Will's nonsense lying down, especially when it hurts her friend. As for Will, yes, he's now being 'willfully' oblivious to the truth (and no, I am not sorry for the pun), but I guess it would be brutal news to swallow.
The song Peggy sings is an appropriation I made to the "Fathoms Below" song from Disney's The Little Mermaid (the Broadway show). I edited some bits and added a few verses to make it more of a fuller sea chantey. I was going to put an actual chantey/folk song from the 1700s but could not find one that fitted what I wanted for this chapter.
Hopefully, we'll get more into the fun stuff in the next chapter (hopefully, it's Jack because I miss writing about him and Peggy). Norrington, as always, is such fun to write, and I look forward to exploring his character later on.
As always, I hope you guys enjoyed it. Please keep reading, reviewing, faving, and following for more.
Cheers
Fuzzybeta
Chapter 20: A Bird in the Hand
Summary:
"...A bit of seasoning?"
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The morning was fair, with good winds and an oddly calm ocean as the young selkie swam gracefully after the small fishermen's sloop sailing by the Cuban coast towards the nearby island.
Upon the pristine beach, a massive black shadow of a ship sprawled across the white sands, a dark sooty blot sharply contrasting the beautiful, softer shapes of nature.
Peggy sniffed the air happily as the familiar scent of Jack and her crew wafted into her nose when her seal-shaped head broke through the water's surface.
Home. She smiled in her mind, her relief and joy blocking out the pain in her chest for the first time in days.
Oh yes. There was no doubt about it now.
They had done it. Against all odds, they had found the Black Pearl.
Peggy sighed as she swiftly ducked below the water's surface to swim behind a small rowboat the fisherman's ship had sent out.
On this little tub were Will, Sloane, and a dark-skinned fisherman who spoke only very fluid and fast French.
It had taken them nearly the entire day of asking questions left, right, and centre, but they had finally, FINALLY, found news of the Black Pearl.
It wasn't easy to find news about Jack in Port Royal, but Peggy was also unsurprised. One thing she had learned about the pirate was that he operated only in two modes.
Complete secrecy or absolute chaos. There was rarely ever any in-between.
But the Pearl was another story. Ships as iconic as her were hard to miss. So, not hearing anything about her comings or goings in the Port was worrying, to say the least.
Luckily for them, they had found this fisherman who had told them about an island off the coast of the mainland where a ship with black sails had been spotted mooring itself dangerously close to shore.
And now here they all were, Will and Sloane, hitching a ride while she was forced to follow in her selkie seal form in the water. Why was she following?
Because the fishing boat's captain refused to let a red-haired woman like her aboard his vessel.
Bloody stupid superstitions.
She snarled with annoyance as she shook her head underwater.
The fishermen had been only too happy to let her follow behind in her seal form and had even laughed and thrown her a few scraps from their haul that morning for breakfast. Of course, they did not know the redhead woman was the seal itself, but still, it was better than nothing. Also, the eel they had thrown her was fresh and a nice change from the usual fish.
Home here I come…Peggy thought, only to jolt as she felt a hand graze her fur through the water.
She looked up and saw that Will's hand stroked her through the water (She knew the callouses on them well).
This surprised her, for Will had been distant from her throughout their visit to Tortuga, especially after that talk with Annamaria. He talked only when necessary, though she thought she caught him staring at her through the corner of her eye whenever he felt she was not looking.
The expression on his face whenever she caught him staring was strange. He looked upset, torn…, and confused, as if he wanted desperately to ask her something but did not know how. Yet she could tell it was not because of her odd behaviour. Something had changed since that morning with Annamaria. Had the ex-smuggler managed to get through to his thick skull? Had he realised the extent to which he had hurt Peggy?
Peggy felt guilty.
While some of her still seethed at the injustice of her situation, her night surrounded by Annamaria's loving family had settled some of the fury broiling within her. However much he had hurt her, she had never talked to Will about her feelings.
Maybe if she had told him years ago, when the butterflies started fluttering in her stomach at the sight of him, when she felt the rush of joy at his affection become more than just a simple fondness for a friend, things could have been different. Who knows? Perhaps if she had told him earlier, he might have even chosen her or forgotten about Elizabeth entirely. Maybe they could have been together and happy if she had been braver.
He did not know what he had done, yet she tried to blame him entirely for her situation.
I should apologise for lashing out at him. She thought miserably. I've lived with him for ten years; I should have known better. I always knew he was an idiot when it came to girls, so I should have known he'd never have figured it out.
But what would she say? Will would undoubtedly want to know why she lashed out, and she was unsure if she was ready to reveal her feelings.
Besides, what was the point in telling him how she felt when she was doomed to service to the Devil in a few short weeks, and Will would go back to Elizabeth as her valiant hero?
Wait…where's the boat? She frowned in her head as she quietly surfaced, just enough for her eyes to scan the water's surface. A few feet behind her were Will and Sloane sitting in their tiny tub, frowning in confusion at the fisherman at the oars. The man was speaking swiftly in French, and from the sounds of his voice, he was scared.
Peggy barely knew much French but had picked up a few words here and there through Labelle and Jack. Both pirates were fluent in French and competent in a couple of other languages, courtesy of their upbringing and many travels across the seven seas.
From what she could tell of the fisherman's babble, he was scared of going any closer to the island for fear of being cursed. Or was the land itself cursed?
Either way, he would go no farther.
"I guess this is where we part ways then." Sloane cut across Will, who had opened his mouth to argue with the man. "Come on, Turner. It's a pretty short swim." He stood up and dusted himself off, nodding to the fisherman. "Merci monsieur."
"Bon Voyage, monsieur."
There was a splash, and as Peggy glanced down to the water, she could vaguely see the fair-haired man's body twist and smoothly change shape into something grey and blubbery.
"Short for you, maybe." Will rolled his eyes but was smart enough to follow Sloane's lead, thanking the fisherman with a nod before diving into the water.
"Oy, watch it!" Peggy snarled, ducking her head back below water as she felt a larger furry shape brush against her.
"Tch! You are a tetchy one, aren't you?" Sloane's voice scoffed in her head as he slid his grey seal form around her, his body twisting and turning with relaxed ease as he showed off his silver grey dappled coat that seemed to shimmer beneath the water. "So what do you think? Not bad, huh?"
"I guess it's not too bad." Peggy huffed in annoyance as the male selkie took the opportunity to do a playful splash. Deep down, however, a small part of her felt like smiling.
Whatever suspicions she had about Sloane,, it was quite a sight to see him in his seal form. Never had she been so close to another of her kind like this. She had never even seen her mother in her seal for,m, for her father kept the pelt in his office like a trophy.
Whatever happened to her in the next few weeks, at least she could say that she was able to swim with another selkie before she died.
"I must say, your fur is quite lovely, even for a Caribbean selkie." Sloane's voice filled her head again, though she could tell he had felt her depressing thoughts, for she could feel his pity on the fringes of his words. "Brown and cream, huh? Then again, I've never heard of a seal with red fur."
"I guess it's hard to camouflage." Peggy thought as Will finally caught up with them, taking a quick gulp of air before ducking beneath the water to look at her.
To Peggy's great astonishment, the blacksmith was smiling at her.
Peggy wondered about this but then realised that he had only seen her in her seal form once, which had been under very stressful circumstances. However, he had full reign to take it all in for himself.
She supposed she must have looked somewhat adorable in her seal form. Humans, especially children, always cooed whenever they saw her seal head poke out of the sea. Gibbs often caved and gave her extra fish whenever she gave him puppy-dog eyes in this form, too.
If she had been human, she might have blushed at the affectionate glint in Will's eye, but as a seal, all she felt was the warmth of her chest. Yes, there was sadness there, but for some strange reason, it was easier to push through to the back of her mind when she felt the rivulets of water glide soothingly through her fur.
With a smooth twist, she glided through the water toward Will, wishing she could connect with his mind like she had with Sloane just a few moments before.
What she would give to show him everything she was feeling through her eyes. Everything she wanted to say either came out of her mouth like a mess or would not come out of her mouth due to sheer fear and terror. If she could connect with his mind to mind, he'd be able to understand…to see.
She'd have to settle for apologising in this clumsy way instead.
Will hardly moved, letting himself float as she brushed past him, around his back and under his other arm, which she pushed under to help him surface.
"Thanks, Peg!" he gasped after several gulps of precious air. He had been so entranced watching Peggy swim in her seal form that he had almost forgotten to return to the surface to breathe.
Will could not help it. It was the first time since the destruction of the Interceptor that he had seen Peggy in her seal form. He had forgotten how playful it was, or how surprisingly at peace she had been.
He supposed having the more uncomplicated mind of an animal meant less stress overall.
He smirked and saw Sloane's grey seal-shaped head bobbing above the water's surface to check on their progress. Despite being handsome in human appearance, the male selkie's seal form was surprisingly rounder and goofier-looking, especially compared to Peggy's sleeker, streamlined features.
Seeing how far his companions were behind him, Sloane splashed the water with his flipper as he hissed and spat at Peggy in annoyance, a vocalisation she shot back at him with just as much ferocity, only to soften instantly as she felt Will snort in amusement. With a huff, she nuzzled her head against Will's chin, grazing her muzzle against his trimmed beard before ducking to tug at his sleeve with her teeth and urge him onward.
"Right-right! I'm coming." He chuckled, though he did his best to squash down the stab of envy he felt when he ducked his head under the water to watch Peggy follow Sloane at a smooth, lazy pace.
He knew she was slowing down so he could follow, but still…what he would give to have flippers like hers right now.
She was made for this. Will's heart ached at the thought as he pushed himself through the water after the two selkies. This was what she was made for…being free…being happy in the ocean without a care.
He remembered Annamaria's words from a couple of days ago.
"Didn't you ever in that tiny brain of yours wonder why she stayed with you on land for ten years even though the ocean probably called so loudly it ached?"
But she couldn't have stayed just because of me. Will grimaced as he finally reached the shallows, and his feet touched the ocean floor. She had been scared of the ocean for a while…I'm not the only reason she stayed…and even if she did, it was not because he was in love with me…it can't be…it must be something else.
Will sighed with exhaustion as he stumbled to his feet. The rough waves on the beach hit the back of his shins hard as he waded towards the large hull of the Black Pearl.
She had been run aground purposefully at high tide, the thick ropes holding her down to the shore at a dangerous angle. The barnacle-encrusted bottom of her black hull was visible to all, and her sails furled neatly.
However, Will could see no sign of damage.
She had not met her fate by accident. Jack had run her aground purposefully. But why?
"JACK!" Will called. "JACK SPARROW?! GIBBS? MARTY? COTTON?"
Will turned to look around the beach.
"Anybody?"
But there was no response.
Only the winds whipped around him, and the waves crashed behind Will's back.
"It's no use!" Sloane's voice shouted, and Will looked up to see the now human-shaped male selkie near the bow of the ship shaking his wet hair out. Even after transforming, the clothes that had reappeared around him were still soaked, leaving nothing about his body to the imagination. Will could even see his the outline of the grey seal pelt through his shirt.
But where was Peggy?
"She's in the water!" Sloane called back to him, guessing his confused expression. "I'm going up aboard to get her some clothes. Stay with her while she transforms! Don't worry, I know where I'm going! Blake already showed me."
"Of course she did," Will muttered bitterly, his chest stinging with bitterness as he remembered that Selkies could talk through their minds in other forms.
Just great. In addition to flaunting his sexual prowess in his face and playing the part of the gentleman, Sloane was now trying to show off his selkie abilities to the max.
Will hoped Peggy would not fall for Sloane's cheap ploys to get in her good graces. He knew she was intelligent, but he also knew how much she longed to meet another selkie.
Will could not blame her for her excitement. After losing her mother and being the only selkie in the Caribbean for years, it must have been wonderful to connect with one of her kind who could teach her things and answer her questions about herself and her heritage. Will would have been happy for her had the other selkie not been a man like Sloane.
Will's sour thoughts were interrupted by the familiar sound of snapping bone and grunts of pain nearby.
His feet hardly needed to consult his brain as they led him back to the water's edge where Peggy was lying on her front, cringing as her fur receded to reveal her freckled, naked body as it morphed back into a very familiar shape.
Will quickly stripped off her blue sash, which he had held onto for her during their journey on the fishing sloop.
It was not much of a covering, but it would protect her modesty from Sloane's prying eyes if he saw her in this state.
"Shhh, Peg. Shh…It's just me. It's me. I've got you." He whispered soothingly as he helped her sit up, doing his best not to look her naked form up and down.
Despite his attempts to keep proper, his mind could not help but marvel at all the freckles she had all over her body. He had not known they had spread so far. She had freckles all over her back, shoulders and arms and the outer sides of her legs.
Now that he had considered it, the positioning of her freckles matched the brown dappling in her seal form's fur.
It had been a long time since he'd been up close and personal with her so undressed. The last time that had happened, they were young teenagers, and Peggy had caught a nasty case of Croup. With the help of one of their kinder neighbours, Will was instructed to apply a mustard plaster to Peggy's chest to ease her breathing. But she had been sick then, dangerously feverish, and Will's state of terror for her wellbeing had overpowered any other embarrassment he might have felt looking at her developing chest.
Now that they were much older, the only bare patches of skin Will usually saw were her arms and legs if she had grazed them by mistake. Even then, Peggy often tried to keep him at arm's length out of a stubborn desire to fix her injuries herself. Will occasionally caught glimpses of her changing on the rare occasions she had forgotten to lock the door to her bedroom or pull shut the makeshift curtain around the shabby bathtub in their apartment.
He had done his best not to stare whenever that happened, though, to his shame, his eyes often wandered up and down her lean yet curvy form.
Even now, he found his eyes drawn down the length of her body as she curled her knees to her chest to cover herself.
Despite being wet, her body burned with internal heat. Heat so comforting that Will found his body unconsciously yearning to be closer to it.
"Ugh! Gods, why does this have to hurt so much?" Peggy grumbled, rubbing her stomach as she felt the last of her innards settle into place. "No sign of Jack then?"
"Not a peep," Will muttered, his arm wrapping around her shoulders to rub her warm, his fingers tingling with every touch of her skin against his. "But the Pearl…"
He looked up at the Pearl, and Peggy followed his gaze and whistled under her breath.
"Never thought I'd see the day this lady ran aground." She murmured. "Just what's gotten into Jack's head? He always said he'd rather sink the Pearl than let her rust on shore."
"I don't know. I don't like it either." Will agreed, trying to ignore the weird fluttering in his stomach as she leaned into his side tiredly.
"Sorry." She breathed.
"Pegs?" Will frowned.
"Hmm?"
"Why do your transformations hurt you so much?"
"Because I don't have my pelt on me." Peggy snorted. "You saw how easily Sloane slid back and forth between forms."
"It's really that powerful?"
"Oh yeah." Peggy shivered as a cold breeze blew past them.
"Here," Will grunted as he quickly unbuttoned his vest and pulled it around her. "Where is that Sloane? It can't take him this long to find you some clothes."
"With the ship like that, do you think he'll be able to stay upright? He's probably staggering like a drunken seagull." Peggy snorted, imagining the usually smooth-talking Selkie male struggling to stay upright.
Her amused thoughts stopped as she felt the familiar ache of her reshaped bones run through her body. She groaned softly as the small aftershocks of pain ran through her, only to grumble as Will's arms squeezed around her and his lips pressed briefly into the top of her head.
"William."
"I'm sorry." He mumbled, cursing himself for his slip. "I…I know you want space, but I…I hate seeing you in pain like this."
"It's nothing I haven't handled before on my own."
"But you shouldn't-" Will sucked in a deep breath to calm himself. "You shouldn't have to do this alone."
I wouldn't have to handle this alone if you weren't such an oblivious fool, Peggy thought, only to chastise herself. She had to stop pinning the sole blame on him.
"Here," Will murmured gently. "Still safe and sound."
Peggy stiffened as Will's hands quickly pulled something metal around her neck.
She looked down and saw it was her abalone shell necklace. That's right; she gave it to him with her sash just before he and Sloane had set off with the fishermen.
"Thanks." She mumbled, gripping the shell pendant tight in her hands.
"Peg, uh…Where did you get that?" Will muttered, his voice awkward and stiff in his clumsy attempt at casualness.
"Jack gave it to me…" Peggy gulped, "The day of his execution. He…he took it from the treasure at Isla de Muerta."
"And he snuck it past Norrington?" Will frowned. From what he could remember, Norrington had thoroughly confiscated Jack's stolen booty from Barbossa's horde when he had taken the pirate prisoner.
"Jack can be clever when he wants to be." Peggy smiled fondly as she looked back up at the Black Pearl. Now they had found the ship, her homesickness had doubled. The Black Pearl may have been her home, but it was nothing without its crazy captain or loyal crew. "I hope he's okay."
"I'm sure he is." Will nodded as he followed her gaze and admired the black ship's impressive rigging and furled sails. The last time he had seen this ship, she bobbed in the dark waters of Isla de Muerta, lit only by moonlight and guarded by undead pirates.
Now that the curse was lifted and she was beached in the daylight, the Pearl did not seem quite as formidable.
There was silence as they sat on the beach. Will kept an arm around Peggy's, his cheek leaning into the top of her head while she tiredly leaned into his chest. Despite her confused feelings, the robust thudding of his heart against her ear soothed her soul.
It was such a familiar sound, so reassuring. Like his hands, calloused and rough on her shoulder… she absentmindedly ran her touch over the digits, only to freeze as his fingers slowly began to entwine with hers.
She tried to pull her hand away, staring at the sky to pretend it was a casual movement, but Will gripped at her swiftly to stop her.
Peggy heard his sigh and felt him curl closer around her as if terrified she would vanish if he lost contact.
Peggy knew he was wishing she would not push him away again. She knew that he wanted things to go back to the way they were when their touches were easy and words playful, and each exchange with one another did not come with baggage. However, things were different now. They had made their choices, and now they had to live with them…or die with them, in her case.
"Will," She murmured, turning to find Will staring at her.
His expression was difficult to discern. He seemed hopeful and anxious, deeply affectionate but sad. But there was something more in his gaze that she could not pinpoint—something that ran too deep to be expressed in words.
It made the breath catch in her chest, and as she gulped, she thought she saw Will's eyes follow the bob of her throat before drifting to her lips with something that looked almost like longing. But no, she had to be imagining it, right?
"OII!" A voice yelled from on high.
"By Triton!" Peggy squeaked as she and Will both jolted where they sat.
Will's nostrils flared as he snarled back up at the Black Pearl's tilted railings where Sloane was clambering over the side, a large cloth bundle in his arms.
"I found the clothes," the male selkie puffed as he slid down one of the mooring ropes back onto the beach. "But it's a mess in there. Half the stuff in your nook fell to the floor. Here!" He chucked the satchel to Will, who caught it with a small pout. "Grabbed something to eat from the galley too."
"Thanks," Will grunted stiffly. He pulled out a few strips of dried jerky and offered them to Peggy and Sloane.
"We should take the opportunity to eat while we can. Who knows when we'll get another fresh meal?" Sloane waved the blacksmith off before turning to Peggy, who tore off a piece of jerky with her sharp selkie fangs. "Speaking of opportunity, you should wash up in the ocean before you dress, Blake. You don't want to walk around with sand in every nook and cranny."
"No, I do not." Peggy agreed, taking the bag from Will and digging through it. "Turn around, you two lugs!"
Will quickly pulled away from her as she offered him his vest back, quickly turning away so he would not see her nude form.
Yet even as she dashed back to the ocean, his teeth gritted as his eyes disobeyed his brain to watch her naked back dash away. Her hair was long when wet and straightened out, reaching below her waist rather than mid-back as he had always thought. And the way it fell over the line of her spine and the curve of her smooth and toned rear and creamy thighs-
Get it together, man! She's your best friend, not a common whore. Will shut his eyes to avoid staring at her naked backside, though the little peek his eyes had managed to get as she bent over to start splashing herself was more than enough to make his cheeks flush and his stomach broil and tighten.
It did not help that he could hear her softly humming to herself as she splashed water over her body, her song so warm and familiar that his head almost turned to look at her without his permission. However, he forced himself to stare at the green lush foliage ahead. Was Jack somewhere inland? Or had they made camp further up the beach?
Probably inland. Will thought, gulping down on the urge to turn around as he heard Peggy squeak with surprise at being slapped by a rogue wave. If he's beached the Pearl like this, then he's most likely inland. Are he and the crew looking for supplies? But hang on, Sloane said he got some food from the galley…unless they were running low on fresh food outside of their preserves…
It did not take Peggy long to take a salt bath in the ocean, though she only went into the water to her shins and splashed herself clean to avoid triggering another painful transformation.
Behind her, Will and Sloane stood with their backs towards her, their fronts facing the tropical forest before them. Sloane smirked as the younger blacksmith glowered at him for daring to take a peek.
"No need to glare Turner. Blake isn't the first woman I've seen naked."
"Doesn't mean you have the right to stare," Will growled, fists clenching as Sloane's grin widened wickedly.
"Oh, and I suppose you do?"
"Excuse me?"
"Oh please, I saw you swooning over her just now. Not that I blame you. With an arse like that, I'd be drooling over her too. That said, if you wanted to fool around with a woman before you tied the knot, that's fine; that's none of my business. But you should have kept that for one of the whores at Tortuga. Don't drag Blake any further into your mess!"
"How dare you!" Will snarled, rounding on the male selkie. I was not 'drooling' over Peggy! She's my friend! I was looking after her! Just who do you think you are to pretend to know what's best for her when you've hardly been in her life for a few days?"
"I am a selkie," Sloane answered calmly but coldly. "And yes, I've only known Blake for a few days, but I am one of her kind. You're just a regular human. Do you think you'd be able to understand her on the level I can when you can barely see what's happening to her in front of your eyes?"
"What's that supposed to mean?" Will kept his fists by his side, but it wasn't easy. It did not help when Sloane rolled his eyes and shook his head at him as if he were a small child throwing a tantrum.
"Figure it out for yourself, Turner. I'm here to help Blake, not you."
"Help her?" Will sneered, "You? Don't make me laugh. Don't think I don't see through your foolish charade."
"Charade?" Sloane snorted. "Only one person is fooling themselves around here, Turner, and it's not me. You may think you're helping Blake, but truth be told, I've never seen a human so careless with a selkie's heart than you are with hers."
Will's nostrils flared. First Annamaria, now Sloane.
What was happening in the world? He had known Peggy the longest and had protected her for so many years, yet everyone seemed to believe he was the problem.
"Where were you for her when she cried to sleep night after night because of how you hurt her? Where were you when she had nightmares about Barbossa or the Devil hurting you? Where were you?"
But…but Peggy can't love me. She can't. If she does, then that means I broke her heart, and she's…she will…
He could not even finish the thought; it was too horrible… too inconceivable.
"Right! Ready!" Peggy's voice snapped him out of her trance.
He looked back, and his heart ached at her striding towards him and Sloane. Her steps were ginger but way more energetic, and now she had recovered her strength. She was wearing brown breeches, a white shirt, and her blue sash, though she had added a turquoise scarf around the top of her head to pull her curls from her face while she quickly tied them with a leather strap in a long side braid. Her arms were covered again in bindings, and her boots fit much better.
Her face was set in a scowl as she noticed the two men standing glaring at one another so close they were practically toe to toe.
"Seriously?" She rolled her eyes and sighed in exasperation. "I leave the two of you alone for two seconds, and you start bickering again! What are you, children?"
"Everything's fine, Peg. We were clearing a few things up man-to-man." Will snapped away from Sloane, who quickly dusted himself off and sneered.
"I think the right term is selkie-to-man Turner."
Will rolled his eyes but did not comment as he began stalking up the beach.
"Come on. We should start searching for Jack and the crew. They can't be that far from the Pearl." He grunted, and Peggy nodded.
"Right, let's-gah!" she squeaked in surprise. Will and Sloane both jumped away from her in alarm as something blue, gold, and feathery squawked and fluttered down from high out of the blue.
"Oy-what the-!" Peggy cursed as she felt clawed talons settle on her shoulders and a familiar avian voice warble affectionately in her ear.
"Ahoy Matey?"
"Ah! A familiar face!" Will's face split into a smile of relief as he recognised the bird's plumage.
"Paulie?!" Peggy gawked at the parrot, "By Poseidon, you gave me a fright!"
"A friend of yours?" Sloane eyed the bird curiously as it wagged its tail.
"More than a friend; where's Cotton?" she asked the parrot, who fluffed himself on her shoulder.
"Feed the fish! SQUAAAW!"
Peggy winced as the squawk blasted into her eardrums.
"Squaaaawk! Feed the fish! GAH!"
The parrot turned his head towards the rainforest ahead, bobbing his head excitedly on Peggy's shoulder.
"Must be in there then." Sloane ran a hand through his hair. "Shall we?"
"It's not like we have another lead." Will agreed. "Peg, are you-"
"I'm fine." Peggy gently scratched Paulie's beak. "Good job, Paulie."
"Awwh! Who's a pretty girlie?" the parrot crooned, leaning into her touch and affectionately nibbling on her finger.
"Yeah, I missed you too, chum." Peggy smiled at the animal's regard, though Will could see her concern.
"Cotton would not have gone far without him, would he?" Will frowned as they walked up the beach and trailed through the undergrowth. "He can't speak without him."
"He can sign some things," Peggy grunted as she clambered over a fallen palm tree branch, Paulie clinging to her shoulder. "But no, Paulie doesn't usually leave his side unless he's been told to get help or keep watch."
As if on cue, the bird quickly hopped off Peggy's shoulder to sit on the stump of a palm tree, squeaking and bobbing his head in increased agitation.
"Don't eat me!" he called to Will, Sloane and Peggy as they began to step further into the jungle.
"But we're not going to eat you?" Will frowned back at the bird.
"Don't eat me!" The bird repeated, but Sloane shook his head.
"We should get moving. We don't want to be stuck in this jungle at night."
Will and Peggy nodded, following the selkie's lead, the latter calling out to the parrot:
"We'll come back for you soon, Paulie. Stay with the ship!"
"Don't eat me!" Paulie called after her. "Don't eat me! Awwww…." His squawk turned sad as the human and the two selkies vanished behind a dense patch of ferns.
"Poor Paulie", Peggy sighed and shook her head sadly. "Be on your guard." She called at Will and Sloane. "Paulie doesn't usually get this spooked unless it's serious."
"Noted!" Sloane and Will nodded at Peggy, reaching their hands to their belts where their swords had been holstered.
They clambered through the jungle, Sloane pulling back to guard the rear. Peggy walked between him and Will, who now led the charge. Will swatted at the dense undergrowth with his sword to clear a path.
Peggy sighed as they came over a large fallen log. Will gave her a hand up, and Sloane gave her a boost from below. Though they did not trust one another, both men seemed to have reached a silent agreement about fussing over her every move.
Men! I can handle myself just fine. I probably see more blood every month than they ever will in a lifetime, and yet they insist on coddling me.
"Gods, it's humid." Sloane grimaced as he slid down the other side of the log and dusted himself of leaves. "Not to mention, this jungle just reeks of death."
"I hear ya." Peggy agreed as she sniffed the air. She could smell a lot of blood and muck around them, which was unusual for a jungle like this. "Will, what have you found?" she asked as she spotted Will bending over to examine a nearby tree vine.
When he straightened up, he showed her something in his hand.
It was a very battered, very familiar small leather hip flask.
"Gibbs." She and Will frowned at one another, remembering the old first mate's muttonchops and stressed face.
"They were here then." Sloane frowned as he examined the thin vine wrapped around the small pouch. He quickly uncorked and upended the bottle, a couple of small drops of rum pathetically dropping onto his fingers.
"It must have been here for a few days, " the selkie male said as he sniffed the droplets on his fingers.
"What's that?" Peggy asked as she followed the length of the vine with her eyes.
Will quietly followed her lead, his fingers tracing the vine's path through the undergrowth, Sloane following close behind with his sword drawn.
Men! More like boys. Gods, why are they so competitive? It's so pathetic and stupid! Peggy rolled her eyes as both men jostled against one another, trying to be first to figure out its meaning.
She meanwhile went much slower, carefully picking her path through the undergrowth in their wake, much like she had seen Jack do whenever he was trying to be cautious. Now that she thought about it, the path around the vine was unusually free of foliage, and the ground beneath her feet was clear and flat. Many feet had trampled here often enough for this path to be created and had done so for many years.
She stopped as she sniffed the air and smelt the familiar scent of sweat. It was not the sweat of Will or Sloane. She knew their scents well enough by now. Nor were they the scents of anyone she had known from the Black Pearl.
No, these were human…but strangers. Strangers who liked to cover themselves in-
"GHAA!" two men's shouts echoed through the trees, and Peggy wheeled around to see a few feet ahead, Will and Sloane strung up by their ankles from a rope snare tied to a tall tree. Before Peggy could even shout at either man or even laugh at how ridiculous they looked, she felt the tip of something sharp graze the side of her neck.
She sucked in a deep breath as many people covered in mud, leaves and green stains suddenly seemed to spring from the undergrowth all around her and her two companions. They were unlike any human Peggy had ever seen before. They were all dark-haired and had ruddy skin and heavy features. Most were men, but some women were in the mix, too. All hardly wore any modern clothing, preferring loin cloths and chest bindings for the women and their bare skin was covered in moss, dirt, white clay-like paint and soot from a fire. To many, it would have appeared like these were the dirtiest people on the planet, but Peggy could tell that this mess on their skin was no accident.
While swimming in her seal form for the past six months, she had seen many underwater creatures cover themselves in sand and coral to conceal themselves in nature. These people were no different. Each mark and each smear was careful and precise, and those that weren't so well applied belonged to the younger, less experienced hunters within the troupe.
None of this information eased her fear when she saw Will and Sloane wave their swords upside down, and the natives surrounding them pointed their spears at their bodies.
"Come on!"
"Who wants some of this?!"
"I can do this all day."
"You idiots, stop struggling!" Peggy shouted, surprising both men for just long enough for two bolder island natives to smack them on their heads and knock them out.
Peggy winced, but despite her desperation to go to her friend's aid, she stayed put, her hands flying up in token of surrender as several spears now poked and prodded around her.
However, to her surprise, when the natives turned to face her, their eyes widened with wonder at the sight of her bright copper curls.
One of the bigger hunters said something to one of the elders beside him, making swift hand movements and then pointing to the beach. He made a strange wavy hand motion with his hand like water and then said:
"Foca Selo."
"Foca selo?" the elder frowned, carefully stalking Peggy, who stood stock still, willing herself not to move or speak as the dirt-covered human came so close into her personal bubble that she could see each grain of moss on his shoulder. Then she smelt it.
Blood. Human blood. And lots of it.
She grimaced and shut her eyes as the man took her by the hand and smelled her palm.
"Foca selo…" the elder hunter breathed almost reverently. Then he turned back to his troupe and shouted something to them.
Peggy could not tell what was being said, but she could understand the hand motions easily.
She was about to be taken to the big chief in charge. She just hoped she could appeal to their good nature...if they had any in the first place.
Where are you, Jack? What the hell have you gotten yourself into this time?
Jack Sparrow sat in his chair, eyes shut, and breathed it all in.
Four days. That's how long he had been on this island. Four days since, he had left his beloved Pearl stranded on the beach and joined these natives in their madness.
It was safe from the ocean, but now he ran out of time.
While playing chief and god to these natives was fun, it was also gruesome. Just two days ago, half his crew was ritualistically sacrificed to heathen gods before their bodies were cooked and eaten. Jack, thankfully, had been able to spare his most favoured crewmembers, including Gibbs, Marty and Cotton, from the carnage, but he knew that it was only a matter of time before he could keep the tribe at bay.
He could only thank whatever god was watching him that Peggy had not been around to witness such a gory sacrifice. For all her ferocity in a fight, she was a softie and would have been inconsolable had she been forced to watch men get killed and eaten.
Speaking of his cabin girl, he wondered what was happening with her. Had she found the whelp yet? Was she waiting for him in Tortuga like they had planned?
To the pirate lord's greatest surprise, he found his question answered. The tribe chants became louder and louder as the hunting party returned from their round of the island.
From the sounds of the shouts, they seemed very pleased with their haul. From what little of the babble Jack had managed to pick up, they had somehow picked up another two stray unfortunate souls in one of their snares.
Jack would credit these natives. They may not have had guns or swords, but their traps were excellent.
He frowned as new murmurs reached his ears, accompanied by gasps of awe.
"Foca Selo." An elder breathed near his throne of bones and wood, and several women began to wail the same words in reverence as a pair of footsteps—footsteps made by one wearing boots — walked closer to his throne.
Upon getting close enough to hear the crunching of leaves and dirt, the owner of the new footsteps gasped:
"Jack?"
Jack opened his eyes, and there standing before him was Peggy. Her freckled face was tired and sweaty as she stood in her pirate garb, her long, wet copper curls braided messily to one side. Two hunters held her arms tight to her sides and pushed her to her knees before Jack's throne.
Typically, Jack would have smirked and made a smarmy comment about her being put in such a position before him, but the pirate found his gaze drawn to the native tribesmen surrounding them.
They stared at Peggy with something akin to reverence and anticipation as they waited for his judgement.
Slowly and carefully, Jack stood to his feet and strolled carelessly to his cabin girl, who smartly chose to stay silent as he reached to tilt her head side to side as if 'inspecting' her.
He barked a few words at the village chief, a man with a lot of face paint and an elaborate headdress of bone and feathers. The chief bowed low to him and began babbling away in his native tongue.
Jack only caught every second word; however, it was enough to guess that these natives had seen Peggy on the beach in her selkie form and thought her a god like him...or rather, a gift of the sea god for him.
After probing the chief with a couple of questions, Jack was assured by the man that Peggy would not be harmed. Indeed, the chief said she must have been Jack's gift to the ocean god for his mortal form to 'enjoy' or 'take to wife' before he 'ascended' in his ritual tonight.
At those words, Peggy was brought to her feet and shoved into his arms, where she proceeded to whisper:
"Jack, what the hell-"
"I'll explain in a bit, love; now stay still, will ya! There's a good girl." He carefully pulled her to stand by his throne as he inspected the additional sacrifices to be added to his ascension ritual.
They were both young men carried upside down on long poles like spit roast pigs ready. One was a handsome, fair-haired fellow with a shadow of stubble around his well-defined jaw. He was unconscious and had a nasty bruise on the side of his face.
And the other man…
Jack stopped in his tracks.
Oh no.
Oh, HELL NO!
Of all the crazy things Peggy had to do, was bring this troublesome whelp back into his life?! Had she managed to seduce the little tick back into her good graces? Or had the whelp batted those big brown doe eyes at her to get his way?
Jack glared back at the young selkie, who sighed, shook her head, and shrugged. Her expression told him everything he needed to know.
Ah…so she was not happy about this either.
It's funny that. Given how desperate she was to see the boy again, Jack was sure she must have tried persuading him to join her back at sea.
Had Will tried to follow her then? Had he gotten bored of dear, pretty Lizzy and wanted a taste of that pirate life after all?
But then, who's this fine-looking specimen of a creature they're travelling with? Jack wondered as he looked the second fair-haired man up and down. Was it just him, or could he see something furry and grey poking out through the collar of the man's dark shirt?
"Jack?"
Jack whipped his head around to see William Turner's warm brown eyes open blearily to look at him upside down.
"Jack Sparrow?!" the whelp started to chuckle in relief. "I can honestly say I'm glad to see you."
Can't say the feeling is mutual. Jack raised a cold eyebrow at the lad as he cautiously stepped over to him and gave him a poke on the shoulder.
Yep. He was not a figment of his imagination. The whelp really was here.
"Jack?" Will frowned as the pirate ignored him to inspect other parts of his body with a furrowed brow. "Jack, it's me! Will Turner!"
Jack, however, ignored the blacksmith and turned to the village chief and elders to ask them where they had found the three newcomers.
"Tell them to let us down!" Will tried to call as one of the natives quietly told Jack of the situation. His brown eyes quickly found Peggy standing beside Jack's throne. "Peg! Peg, thank God! Are you alright?"
But Peggy quickly shook her head and widened her eyes threateningly at the blacksmith, her hand rising to make a 'cut-it-out' motion against her throat. Despite his desperation, the boy heeded the selkie's warning, much to Jack's relief. At least she could still keep that boy in check.
Now, how to get out of this mess… Jack mused as the man informed him that they believed the selkie bride was being kept prisoner by these two pale devils and that they would add them to the list of sacrifices to be made in honour of her and Jack.
Jack had to admit that the offer to let the blacksmith burn on a spit was very tempting, especially after the last six months. However, the pirate lord knew Peggy would be devastated…not to mention it would be very unfair to their unconscious companion to be killed without knowing his story.
Jack began speaking to the elders, gesturing to Will's lean muscled form, calling it 'eensy-weensy' before gesturing to his privates and saying "eunuchy-snip-snip!" he cut his fingers in a scissor motion, delighting in Peggy coughing to the side, using her hand to stifle the tiny snort of amusement.
Not this again! Will rolled his eyes at the familiar jibe. Why the hell did Jack always call him a eunuch? Was this ragging on him a form of affection for the pirate, or was it some petty attempt to tear down his confidence?
It was annoying when Jack turned his back on him to stroll away, something dark and metallic glinting from his sash.
"Jack! Jack, that compass! That compass is all I need. Elizabeth is in danger! We were arrested for trying to help you! She faces the gallows!"
And there it was. Jack paused to look at Peggy, whose arms were folded, and her face looked anywhere but at Will, her lips pursed and her expression stiff as a board.
Jack glanced sidelong at the blacksmith, who had also turned to look at Peggy, his expression odd as he added:
"And the EITC is after Peggy, too! They want to finish the work they started. Please, Jack, we need your help!"
The EITC? Jack looked at Peggy again; this time, she met his eye.
Her grey-blue orbs seemed pained as she nodded slightly in Will's direction, silently confirming his statement.
Well damn. After all, if there were one other person who knew how much his cabin girl meant to him, it would be ruddy Will Turner.
Bloody brat. Jack sighed to himself. The boy was getting better at this manipulation; he'd give him that.
Jack was quick to give the order to put Will and his other captive friend in cages with the rest of the crew, quickly whispering to the lad as he went:
"Save me!"
The pirate quickly turned his back on the blacksmith as he rushed back towards Peggy, doing his best to keep a straight face at the sight of her nervous one.
With a loud cry, he ordered another chair to be brought so that she could be seated by his side.
"Jack, please tell me you have a good explanation for what is happening?" Peggy hissed as soon as she was seated beside him. "I thought you were going to go to that island prison."
"And so I did." Jack muttered, doing his best to keep a straight face as he waved a hand at his 'subjects' to go on with the day's work.
"Did you find what you were looking for?" Peggy frowned, and Jack nodded.
"I certainly did. And I see you found more than you were bargaining for." He turned a slight frown upon her. "Helping him rescue Lizzy again? Really? After everything that happened-"
"Look, I don't like it either!" Peggy sighed, her shoulders sagging. "I didn't exactly plan for this."
"And the EITC?" Jack quirked a worried brow as his cabin girl's face suddenly became very stricken.
"That's…that's complicated." She mumbled, staring at the bonfire the villagers were starting to assemble in their honour. "Once we get out of this, I'll tell you. Trust me, we'll all need the rum."
"Blimey Pegsy, you are in the shits, aren't you?" Jack's eyebrows rose as he reached out to tap her hand comfortingly, and he caught sight of her eyes watering. "I leave you for a few days, and the whole world goes to the dogs!"
"You have no idea." Peggy snorted, gripping his hand to the pirate lord's surprise. She only got this physically clingy when she was way down in the dumps.
Had seeing the whelp again done a number on her, or was something else plaguing her mind? Even as they sat there, it seemed to Jack that she was somehow diminished…like she was slowly being hollowed into a shell.
However, before he could comment on the fact, a villager bearing a platter made from a turtle shell offered food to his chief and cabin girl on his knees.
"Don't eat the meat." Jack cautioned Peggy before she could reach out to take a bite.
"Why, what is it?" She gulped, and Jack grimaced.
"I believe the right question here is 'Who is it?'. Savvy?"
Peggy stared aghast at the platter, her hand swiftly swiping to take a fresh slice of mango to avoid offending, though she could feel her stomach revolt in protest at the thought of eating anything from these people. Oh god. Jack had warned her of cannibal tribes in the Caribbean before, but this was…oh god.
"Jack…um…is that our crew?" She quietly nodded to a filet of meat someone nearby was carrying to be cured and salted by an elder.
"Dunno love." Jack muttered darkly, "I think that might be one of our cows…but…I could be wrong."
As if on cue, some of the villagers around the bonfire started to bang hard on large leathery drums, beating a tattoo that seemed to smash into Peggy's soul and her eardrums.
Jack paused as a few new villagers bowed and approached him and Peggy, lowering their heads and holding strange offerings of leaves and ropes in their hands.
They were not the only ones while they were talking; a long line of villagers formed to offer the god and his 'bride' tokens of their worship.
Peggy forced herself to keep a straight face as she and Jack were granted various objects or pieces of food.
Most were made from animal bone and wood, and most of the food was offerings of fruit and fresh fish. Still, there were some truly gruesome gifts amongst the pile, including but not limited to spines, skulls and various other body parts that almost made Peggy want to throw up.
Peggy sucked in a sharp breath as she watched Jack be adorned with a necklace of human toes, fingers and thumbs and shut her eyes as an elderly woman strode over to her and dipped something around her neck.
"Open your eyes, love." Jack elbowed her sharply, and Peggy thought she had heard a hint of envy in his voice as he muttered, "Your one ain't that bad."
Peggy cracked open an eye and looked down. To her surprise, she was wearing a necklace with beads made from shells and coral and pendants made from animal bone (or at least she hoped it was animal bone). These pendants were carved and cut to resemble seals that were not too dissimilar in shape from her seal selkie form.
"Foca Sela," the elderly woman addressed her with a warm smile as she deposited something into Peggy's hands.
Peggy looked down and, to her surprise, found herself clutching a pink-lined, brown, and white-striped conch shell horn. It was surprisingly small, comfortably fitting in the palm of her hand.
"This is…a sea horn?" She felt her heart clench. She had seen one of these only once before. Years and years ago, in the hands of her mother, barely two weeks before she died.
Her mother had been so delighted and excited to show her how to blow the conch, even though Peggy could barely manage to get a couple of notes in before her father had commanded her to be removed from her mother's rooms for causing a commotion and distracting him from his work.
Peggy looked back up at the village elder.
The woman was looking at her expectantly, her soot-smeared, brown eyes darting between the conch and Peggy's face pointedly.
"I think she wants you to blow it," Jack whispered to her ear.
"What for?"
"Because yer a selkie Pegsy." Jack grunted. "These folks believe selkies like you are messengers of the sea gods. Your coming here is a big deal to these folk. They haven't seen one of your kind in years since the purge. They think it's a sign of good fortune."
Peggy stared around at the village. Many of the youth looked at her with cautious excitement, while the oldest of the elders seemed earnest and eager to snag a glance at her.
She had never considered how children of the ocean were thought of outside British Rule. Selkies were considered a pest to the EITC and the Crown, yet she knew many civilisations that still revered the old gods and their children, especially ocean deities.
Peggy gulped as she put the conch to her lips, her heart hammering as she willed herself not to let the tears fall. She could almost feel her mother's hands around hers, showing her the correct way to grip the rough outside. She could almost hear her gentle laugh.
She sucked in a deep breath and blew.
Will stared up towards the top of the cliff.
He was now standing in a round ball-like cage with six of the twelve remaining crew members of the Black Pearl. In another cage hanging many feet away but within shouting distance was one-half of the crew, a motley bunch picked up from Tortuga during Jack's recent visit. Meanwhile, in Will's cage were Cotton, Gibbs and Marty, along with two men named Diggs and Buck, and of course, Sloane was with Will too, because, of course, he had to be foisted into the same prison.
The selkie male had finally woken up and was pissed that Will had let Peggy remain among the cannibal villagers at the village with Jack.
That arse, Will thought bitterly, As if he actually cares about either Jack or Peggy.
"These tribesmen are nuts!" Sloane grunted as he gripped the bony cages so hard his knuckles had gone white. "How the hell did they make these things?"
Will noticed the male selkie's sweat beading on his brow, and he was desperately trying not to look down.
So Sloane was afraid of heights? That was interesting.
Will knew he should have been more compassionate towards the man's fears. Will himself was feeling very uncomfortable being caged over such a sheer drop. However, a small part of the blacksmith could not help but feel a sliver of savage pleasure at his rival's discomfort.
Yet, no sooner did the amusement flicker across his mind than he heard over the distant thudding of drums a loud, melodious horn.
All eyes in the cages turned to the sheer cliff face above where the sound came from, accompanied by a large column of smoke.
Sloane's eyes, however, were fixed on Will.
No one else had noticed it, but the young blacksmith had clutched at his chest when he heard the horn sound.
What the…? Will sucked in a deep breath to steady himself. He was not sure what was happening, but at the sound of the strange horn, he felt his chest tug painfully in his ribs as a vision flashed before his eyes.
A smiling woman in a dark green dress with long copper curls and freckles was seated on a chaise longue, with a little girl, also red-haired and freckled, seated in her lap and garbed in a light blue dress. The child's smile was warm and bright as her mother held a conch shell to her lips and tried to show her how to blow a note. For some reason, even though the scene was happy, the veil of sorrow over it was so powerful that Will almost felt tears spring to his eyes.
Then, just as suddenly as it had appeared before him, the image disappeared, though the sorrow lingered in his mind and his heart, coiling around it like a snake.
It was such a powerful sensation that he almost lost his footing on the bones that made his cage.
"Peg," he breathed, the sound catching Gibb's attention.
"What, lad?"
"Nothing!" Will coughed, rubbing his chest as the horn blow died away, leaving only the thudding of drums and the strange heaviness in his chest. "Why would he do this to us? If Jack is the chief-"
"Aye, the Pelegostos made Jack their chief," Gibbs stared suspiciously up at the cliff with narrowed eyes. "But he only remains chief as long as he acts like a chief."
"So he had no choice. He's a captive as much as the rest of us." Will sighed in dismay as he followed Gibb's gaze back up the side of the cliff.
"Worst as it turns out." Gibbs snorted bitterly "See, the Pelegostos believe that Jack is a god in human form, and they intend to do him the honour of releasing him from his fleshy prison-ghhh-nn!"
Will's eyes widened in horror as Cotton mutely took the First Mate's fingers and bit into them to further drive the point home.
With a hard shove, Gibbs wrenched his fingers out of the mute man's mouth, wiping them in disgust on his vest as he jerked his head to the top of the cliff.
"They'll roast 'im and eat 'im."
"And the rest of the crew?" Sloane asked, keeping his eyes fixed on the sky as he tried to keep his breathing regular.
"These cages we're in weren't built till after we got 'ere." Gibbs muttered darkly.
Good god, what have we landed ourselves in? Will wondered as he and Sloane exchanged looks of horror.
"The feast is about to begin…Jack's life will end as the drums stop." Gibbs bit his lip.
"And Peggy?" Will asked, doing his best to gulp down the bile in his throat as his hands were forced to cling to the femur bound in vines before him.
"Who knows?" Marty shrugged for the first time. Then again, now that she's back with the captain,, maybe the two of them can figure something out."
Gibbs and Marty both nodded in agreement.
"But we can't just sit and wait, can we?" Will hissed, and Sloane groaned, his face turning green as he accidentally glanced down at the sheer drop below.
"If you've got a plan, Turner, please don't beat around the bush."
"Oh, I've got a plan." Will grimaced. "But I don't know if it will work."
"We'll take anythin' you got, lad." Gibbs grunted, glancing at the fellow men in the cage "Anythin' at all."
Will sucked in a deep breath. It was time to take a leaf out of Jack's insane book.
"Right…here's what we've got to do-"
"Oi! Oi! More wood! Big fire! Want big-big fire! Oi, you two help them out!"
Peggy gulped as she watched Jack leap around and push their two guards away from their thrones of wood and bone to help the villagers light the big fire.
Since Jack had foregone with the act of publicly shagging her and taking her to wife, they had sped up preparations for his 'ascension' ceremony. While this certainly put the pressure on for escape, it also had the strange bonus of confusing their captors as they ran and rushed about hither-and-thither to prepare things in a hurry, meaning a lot less of them were keeping as vigilant a watch on either the captain or his cabin girl when they finally were able to book it.
"Come on!" Jack grabbed Peggy by the hand and dragged her across the rope bridge so fast that their feet were almost flying and not touching the ground.
"Remind me never to let you beach the Pearl again!" she snapped as they dashed past a few empty huts, and Jack rolled his eyes.
"Way ahead of you, love! Quick this way-woah!" he cried out and Peggy grabbed him by the scruff of his neck before he could teeter over another sheer cliff drop. "Thanks, love."
"Don't mention it." Peggy gasped as she looked around them. In the distance, she could hear the thundering of feet and many shouts. "Shit, they're onto us. Woah-woah-woah Jack, what are you doing?!" She squeaked as Jack dragged her along the rim of the cliff edge, which leaned close to another cliff.
"Right, should be able to make it!" Jack grunted as he quickly sized the gap. "Now, love, get back down to the Pearl and get her ready to sai.l"
"Jack what-" Peggy pulled away in alarm as the pirate grabbed her by the scruff and began to rush her towards the edge "Jack wait-wait-GGGAAHHHH!"
Peggy screamed as she flew through the air, her body boosted by Jack as he all but threw her across the divide between cliffs.
If she had just made the jump on her own, she would never have made it across. However, with Jacks's extra boost, she was just able to crawl up the side of the cliff and grab a large vine to pull herself up.
Operating on sheer adrenaline and will to liv,e she swiftly scrambled up the vines and hauled herself to the other side, panting for breath as her heart flapped around in her chest like a terrified bird being stared at by a hungry cat.
"JACK!" She roared back at the other side of the cliff as the familiar head of dreadlocked hair turned away from her and shouted:
"Don't wait up!"
"Jack, stop! Get back here you-you-!" She shouted, torn between jumping across the divide to strangle him or help him.
The idiot! What if she had fallen to her death? Worse, what was going to happen to him? Granted, it was easier to focus on his survival without being concerned about her safety, but –
Oh, COME ON!
Peggy ducked as several spears and darts were thrown her way across the divide, forcing her to reel back into the thick undergrowth and run. She was not quite sure how she knew where to go, yet somehow, she managed to find herself going lower and lower down the sheer mountainous terrain and back towards more level grounds.
Ah… her nose must have been guiding her. Well, at least some piece of her body was working correctly today.
Still, she kept running, and running and running.
Her legs burned, her stomach ached from hunger, and her heart was pounding painfully in her chest.
Still, she kept running towards the smell of the sea.
As she ran, she was vaguely aware of a strange tugging behind her naval, drawing her along as if by an invisible string.
What was even stranger was that she could almost feel someone on the other end of the line pulling her towards them.
Pegg,y however, did not have the time or headspace to even think about what it all could mean as she pushed her legs to widen their stride and leap over a fallen log.
When Jack gets out of this mess, and he will, I'm going to kill him! She cursed the pirate in her head as she finally saw through small gaps in the trees the white golden sands of the beach and a patch of black.
"What about Jack? I won't leave without him! And Peggy? PEG! PEG WHERE ARE YOU?" A familiar voice roared over the crashing waves.
"Thank gods!" She gasped as she burst out of the dense jungle and looked up to see the Black Pearl, already unmoored and sliding back into the high tide as several men clambered up from the mooring lines to clamber aboard.
All save three men.
She was quick to recognise Gibbs standing there along with Will and …
Pintel? What the hell is he doing here? Peggy frowned at the sight of the ex-cursed pirate, who frowned as he saw her running towards them.
Seeing the other man's distraction, Gibbs and Will quickly looked in her direction, the lattermost's face splitting into a sigh of relief.
"Peggy! Over here!" he called, arms opening to grab at her as her feet splashed into the water.
"the tide! Lass, be careful! Your legs-" Gibbs called worriedly as Peggy's pace faltered, her face paling as she realised her predicament.
Damn, if she went any lower into the water, her transformation would be triggered.
Yet before she could shout at Will her problem, someone burst out of the jungle down on the far side of the beach.
Peggy and Will both heard Jack before they saw him. His wail of panic and chaotic run were unmistakable. His arms flailed around like a terrified ragdoll, and his feet flew over the sand like a horse in full flight.
But worse still was the throng of cannibal natives shouting and roaring behind him in bloodlust and fury.
For years, they had been awaiting their god's return to their island, and now he was running away and taking the blessing of the sea gods with him.
"Time to go!" Will gulped, throwing all caution to the winds as he rushed at Peggy, picked her up and tossed her over both his shoulders as if she were a goat he was taking to market.
"Cast off those lines!" Gibbs shrieked in panic as he and the dismal skeleton crew rushed to the ship, grabbing her netting along the sides and clambering up her as fast as they could.
"Climb!" Will shouted at Peggy, throwing her at the netting and pushing her legs up to avoid contact with water. He was pushing so close behind her that she was almost sitting on his shoulders, being boosted up by him.
"Blake!" A voice called from above, and Peggy looked up to see Sloane's hand reaching down for her.
She took the limb offered and, with a tug, found herself stumbling face-first onto the deck of the Black Pearl.
"Well, that was a graceful entrance." Sloane snorted at her expense.
"Ah, piss off, seal jerky!" she growled, leaping to her feet to reach out for Will's hands.
"Come on, Will, get up!"
She managed to haul the blacksmith over the ship's railing with a massive tug, only to pull too hard accidentally.
There was a cry of surprise and the thudding of wood as the blacksmith, and the selkie stumbled backward into the deck behind some tied-down barrels. The rest of the crew hardly noticed them as they leaned over the railings to see Jack Sparrow climbing up the side of the ship.
"Jack, come on!" Gibbs called, but Jack had already turned with a flourish to face the dismayed faces of his cannibalistic hosts, who were all dismayed at his departure, wailing, gnashing their teeth and shaking their spears.
"Alas, my children, this is the day you shall always remember as the day you almost-"
SPLASH!
"Captain…Jack…Sparrow…" Jack spluttered pathetically, his moment ruined by the wave that had soaked him straight through the bone.
Yet as the rest of his rag-tag crew grinned or chortled at his expense, two members' chuckles were strangely absent.
However, neither Will nor Peggy had time to concentrate on Jack or his antics.
Not when they were so focused on their lips pressed against one another's as Will lay on top of Peggy where they had landed on the deck.
Oh my god.
Oh, gods…
Will and Peggy stared at one another, still lip-locked.
What the hell have I done?
Notes:
MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA! Oh, I do love being cruel!
Yes, that is where I am leaving this chapter to hang. Peggy and Will, what have you done indeed? So yeah, you might have noticed I skipped over some bits from the movie, but only because I don't think I can describe the gold that was the swinging cage scene. Besides, I think the movie did it justice.
So yeah, some massive drama is brewing between Will and Peggy, and Jack is finally back in the picture. Oooh boy, we are getting to the good stuff now. *rubs hands together gleefully* I won't say any more because I don't want to spoil it.
Please keep reading, reviewing, faving and following if you enjoyed ;)
Adieu
Fuzzybeta
Chapter 21: A Little Trip Up River
Summary:
“Truth uncompromisingly told will always have its jagged edges.”
― Herman Melville, Billy Budd, Sailor and Other Uncompleted Writings
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Oh my god…
Oh, gods…
What the hell have I done?
Despite their desperation for escape, Will felt like time had slowed down as he stared into Peggy's eyes, his lips still pressed into hers.
It was not much, a mere press of skin against skin. No tongues had touched, and no mouths were opened. It was just a simple peck by sheer accident—nothing more and nothing less.
And yet, even that mere touch seemed to spark something like lightning in his soul as he pulled back, staying close enough to breathe the same air that escaped her mouth.
A part of him hissed at him to pull away, reminding him of his oaths to Elizabeth and the vows of matrimony he was supposed to take with her. But there was also another piece of him snarling and hissing at him to chase the lightning once more. It was such a heady, carnal need it nearly overpowered all common sense and had Will leaning in again to-
"OI! Pegsy! Where are ye?" Jack Sparrow's voice barked across the deck of the Black Pearl.
Quickly, Will pulled himself off Peggy, holding her by the shoulders, his cheeks burning hot as his stomach performed massive backflips. Yet somehow, he knew it was not from disgust but rather-NO! No he could not think like that.
"S-sorry", he apologised, and Peggy turned her face away from him with a cough.
"S'fine." She mumbled, gulping down on her embarrassment. "Accident…it happens."
"R-right…accident…" Will nodded, his heart clenching as he caught sight of the slightly sad glint in her blue-grey eyes. Shaking himself, he quickly patted her down for injuries. "Sorry, I didn't-You're not hurt anywhere, are you?"
"N-no, I'm fine."
"You sure?" Will frowned as he quickly pulled her head down to inspect it. "No bumps, no-"
"No. I'm fine, Will." Peggy pulled her head up, only to blush as she realised how close their faces were.
"Pegsy!" Jack called again, sounding much irate, and Peggy quickly drew away from Will as she scrambled to her feet.
"Coming, Captain!" She called and almost tripped on her feet in her haste to reach Jack, her face red as her hair.
By all the sea gods that had been such a disaster.
What the hell? Why had that had to happen now of all times?
Good gods, it was bad enough she was struggling to keep Will at arm's length without this sort of trouble adding to her stress.
She was relieved to see Jack and Gibbs talking up on the deck while Pintel and Ragetti (Poseidon knew where they came from) carefully draped the captain's dry coat over his shoulders to help him stay warm. Now that Peggy was getting closer,, she could see the strange eye orbug-style face paintnning down his face, g,iving the pirate the look of a melting waxy candle.
"Let's distance us and this island and head out to open sea!" Gibbs proposed as he shook himself off from the wet.
"Yes to the first and yes to the second, but only insofar as we keep to the shallows as much as possible." Jack agreed, and Peggy frowned.
Was it just her, or did he seem twitchier than usual? Usually, he could not wait to get out into open water.
First, beaching the Pearl and sailing in the shallows? What the hell is going on in Jack's head? What's got him so spooked?
She wondered and was glad that even Gibbs seemed confused by the order.
"That seems a bit contradictory, Captain." He prompted, hoping for a better explanation.
"Oh I have every faith in your reconciliatory navigational skills master Gibbs. Now, where is that monkey? I want to shoot something."
"Monkey?" Peggy frowned only to wince as something hard and round fell from above onto her head. "OW!"
"Me eye!" Ragetti dove for the wooden eyeball as it bounced off Peggy's head and rolled onto the floor.
Peggy, however, was too busy looking up to the rafters, where a familiar little capuchin monkey in a red vest was screeching and hollering with glee at his shot.
"That little shit!" she growled, only to frown as Jack waved off the two stooges and reached into his sash and pulled out his gun. "Jack? Won't the powder be all wet?"
Jack looked at her and then looked at the gun, cursing as he noticed how wet it was.
"Ah.. shame. Well spotted, Pegsy." Jack muttered bitterly, glaring up at her. "Speaking of disappointments, love, you've got some explaining to do." The pirate glanced at Will's face as the blacksmith began swerving around crewmen and barrels to reach them.
"Like I said before, it's complicated." Peggy rolled her eyes, cheeks flushing as her mind recalled that accidental kiss from a few moments ago. Yet even as she tried to force the image from her mind, her chest stung horribly.
"Pegsy?" Jack frowned as his cabin girl's hand flew to her chest, and her breathing sharpened.
"I'll tell you later." She mumbled as he leaned in to check on her. "this isn't something for the crew."
Jack nodded, his eyes unusually serious, as he rubbed her shoulder. "Get into my cabin and start cleaning up. I'll meet you there when I'm done up here."
"Yes,, captain!" Peggy nodded, glad for the excuse to be out of sight because Gibbs, Marty, and Cotton were eyeing her worriedly.
"Just a catch!" she called as Marty opened his mouth to ask her what was wrong. "From all that running."
All the men on deck nodded and grunted in sympathy as they began complaining about a couple of their aching thighs and arms from their recent escape.
"Need any help in there?" Sloane muttered as she approached the double doors that led to the captain's cabin.
"I'm fine." Peggy sighed.
"Has it been getting worse? The pain?" The male selkie touched her shoulder, and Peggy nodded slightly.
"A little…but I don't know if that's because of my recent transformation. Sometimes, my body aches for hours after I change forms."
Sloane nodded, though he did not seem convinced.
"Let me know if it starts getting too bad." He mumbled. "So that we can keep an eye on the symptoms. Don't want too many tongues wagging if you collapse from the pain."
"I will. Thanks, Sloane." Peggy managed a slight grimace of a smile as Sloane opened the door for her and shut it behind her gently.
"Oi! You? Blondie, over here!" Jack called as soon as the door was shut, frowning at the male selkie with curiosity and suspicion. The selkie seemed quite friendly with Peggy, though Jack could have sworn he had never seen him on his ship before or at Tortuga.
He was around the same age as Will, maybe a few short years older, for he lacked the innocent whelpishness of the blacksmith. Or was that just because his light green eyes were sharper than his age belied?
Either way, Jack was intrigued by his presence. Now, what would his little Pegsy be doing in the company of this handsome stranger when she had her beloved whelp trailing after her like a lost puppy again? Unless she had switched her pursuit…
"Yes, Captain Sparrow?" The younger man strode confidently to Jack, not even batting an eye as the Pirate Lord looked him up and down. Strapping arms and legs, broad shoulders, and yet Jack had been around the block long enough to sense that there was something not quite human about the man before him.
"What's your name, lad?"
"Ronan Sloane." Sloane nodded at Jack, taking in his eccentric appearance. "Captain Labelle sent me to help Blake and Turner reach the Pearl safely."
"Ahhh!" Jack nodded, his shoulders relaxing "So you're one of Jacquline's lads. Right 'course. She probably wants you to keep an eye on me and ensure I pay up my end of the deal?"
"That, among other things," Sloane admitted with a shrug. "She had a feeling you'd need help, and I quote, 'getting out of whatever sticky mess that mad lad's gotten himself stuck in', not to mention she was worried about your cabin girl. She's been through a lot since you two last met." He added, and Jack frowned a little.
It was true that his sister was fond of Peggy, but for her to send one of her men to keep an eye on her meant something nasty had happened while he was gone.
"Was it the whelp?" Jack asked lowly, and Sloane sighed.
"He is part of the mess." The fair-haired man admitted, leaning forward to mutter into the pirate's ear, "But I'll leave Blake to tell you all about that. This is important, and you should hear it from her. Though if you need any clarifications, I will be more than happy to provide them."
"How very helpful of you, Mister Sloane," Jack smirked as he glanced at the man's chest and caught sight of something fur-lined and grey peeking out from below his open collar. Fur-lined, grey and reeking of old sea magic.
Well, that was very interesting. Jack had no idea his sister had a little selkie under her thumb.
Was she trying to copy him, or had this lad been employed by the Brethren court? Selkies occasionally helped them during tumultuous times.
But such questions could be kept for later. Right now, Jack could see Will Turner finally navigate a clear path towards him, his scowl darkening upon seeing Sloane's face.
It was not the usual scowl of annoyance for being interrupted. No, this was a scowl full of loathing that was turning the blacksmith's usually friendly face green.
Well, well, well. What have we here?
"Well, since you'll be with us for a while, lad, why don't ye make yourself useful and report to Mister Gibbs? See if he's got any chores you can help with."
"Aye, captain." Sloane nodded and strode away just as Will stormed up to him and barked.
"Jack, Elizabeth is in danger."
Of course, she is. Jack though,t rolling his eyes as he turned his back on the lad and began striding up to the helm.
"Have you considered keeping a more watchful eye on her, maybe locking her up somewhere?"
"She is locked up in a prison, bound to hang for helping YOU!" Will snapped, following the captain like a hunting dog chasing a fox.
"There comes a time when one must take responsibility for one's mistakes," Jack grunted as he came up onto the poop deck, only to turn around and find Will pointing a sword to his neck.
Stupid whelp will he never learn?
"I need that compass of yours, Jack." The blacksmith sneered, eyes pointedly glancing at the compass hanging from the pirate's sash. "I must trade it for her freedom...and Peggy's."
My compass? Jack wondered. Why the hell would the lad need his compass to trade for Elizabeth? And Peggy's freedom? What the hell had the girl done while she had been away?
But Jack could think about that later. Right now, a bright cannon spark had just lit up in his brain at the sight of the blacksmith's face.
Though the whelp tried to look confident and threatening, Jack could smell the desperation from a mile off.
With a calm hand, Jack casually pulled the edge of the blade from one side of his neck to the other and smirked.
"Mister Gibbs!" He called to his first mate, who was currently at the helm wheel, doing his best to adhere to Jack's earlier confusing orders.
"Aye, Captain?"
"We have a need to travel up river." Jack muttered pointedly and Gibbs gulped as a shiver ran through him.
"By need, do ye mean a trifling need? Fleeting? As in, say, a passin' fancy?"
"No." Jack's smirk widened "A resolute and unyielding need."
"What we need to do is make sail for Port Royal with all haste!" Will snarled sword lowered to his side as he followed Jack to the railing of the poop deck where the pirate was pulling out something from inside his sash.
"William." Jack cut across the younger man's rudeness with a calm but cold sneer. "I shall trade you the compass if you will help me find this." He opened the wad of cloth to reveal a rough drawing of an ancient key.
Will frowned at the drawing. The fabric was ancient, and the key had an odd design. He had never seen anything like this, yet it felt so familiar. He reached out to touch the cloth; his body almost pulled towards the drawing as if by some strange magnet.
"You want me…to find this?" He looked at Jack, whose smirk widened.
"No. You want you to find this. Because the finding of this finds you incapacitorially finding and or locating in your discovering the detecting of a way to save your dolly bell ol' whats-her-face and dear lovely Pegsy…Savvy?"
Will frowned as he desperately tried deciphering the pirate's convoluted and bizarre explanation. Had those cannibals fed him something that made him stranger than before, or was this Jack trying to be clever in the hopes of getting him to do whatever he wanted?
"This…is going to save Elizabeth and Peggy?" Will took the cloth with the key drawing from Jack, whose smile widened as he licked his teeth.
"How much do you know about Davy Jones?" He murmured, and Will's frown deepened.
"Not much." He admitted. What the hell did the old legend of the devil of the deep have to do with their current problems anyway?
But before Will could ask any further Jack shrugged and turned to face the rest of the ship.
"Yeah, it's going to save Elizabeth…and as for Pegsy, what do you care about what happens to her?"
Any confusion and curiosity Will might have felt about Jack's earlier statements about Davy Jones flew out of the window as he glared at the pirate beside him.
"What's that supposed to mean?" He snarled, and Jack's lips curled into a sneer.
"You know exactly what I mean,n mate." The coldness in those kohl-lined brown eyes of the pirate was enough to form icebergs in the ocean. "Now, get a move on! We need to reach the mainland, and I don't have time to listen to you yappin'. Mister Gibbs, give him some chores. I'm gonna be down in me cabin cleanin' up!"
"Aye, Captain!" Gibbs grunte,d turning to bark at Will. "Turner, go help Diggs and Marty check the rigging on the shrouds!"
Will opened his mouth but thought better of objecting.
Whatever anger he felt towards Jack's comments, the pirate was right. They had no time and a tiny crew.
Also he was not sure it was wise to push Jack any further right now.
Something was bothering the man; something had made him trigger-happy enough to shoot a monkey and make his eyes turn deadly cold.
But what?
The woman in the shack stared at the bowl of seawater before her.
In it, she could see faintly on the surface, images of a young woman with copper-red hair, a dreadlocked pirate with kohl-lined eyes, and a young man with warm brown eyes and a short beard flashing across her vision.
Finally, after six long months, Fate was leading them right up to her door.
It had taken a while for this to happen, and the lady in the shack had almost given up hope.
Yet now she smiled as she stood and looked around at her shack. She would need space for her guests and a room to check on the girl in private. She had not put in all that hard work for the selkie to die on her as soon as she stepped over her threshold.
"Looks like we've get sum wuk tuh do."
Peggy sighed as she slumped onto Jack's freshly made bed. It was early evening, and it had taken her a long time to get the captain's cabin spick and span.
Jack had been messy while she had been gone. Unwashed clothes had been thrown over surfaces, while books, pieces of parchment and maps were strewn all over, along with some toppled candles and a few knocked-over trinkets. Her room was thankfully only a little
Peggy found the dreaded copy of Percival "Silverbeard" Stafford's book half buried underneath the messy, sweat- and rum-stained blankets of Jack's bed. She quickly put the book somewhere safe before replacing the sheets and putting them in the bucket hamper, ready to wash tomorrow when she had her strength back.
Gods, she was feeling tired. Transforming twice and running away from Cannibals on top of her usual chores were one thing, but her heart had been put through its paces every time she accidentally made eye contact with Will.
She knew the kiss was an accident. Six months ago, they would have both shrugged it off and laughed at their clumsiness.
But even Will seemed embarrassed to meet her eye now. On the plus side, it made not having to be near him easier.
On the other hand, it made the ache in Peggy's chest grow more painful.
She knew he did not love her in that way, but it hurt to know that any potential romantic interest she might have shown would have been snubbed like this. Deep down, she supposed that the bonded selkie within her still held out hope that he might have chosen her had she shown him how she felt.
Now, here was real physical proof that her love was truly one-sided.
She whimpered and clutched at her chest as it throbbed. Now that she was alone and in the quiet, she could almost feel the bond inside breaking thread by thread.
Not even caring where she was, she curled on Jack's bed, cringing as she heard the squeak of the unoiled door.
"GAH! Finally! I can drink in peace." Jack's voice called through the cabin. He sounded tired but in a good mood, even as he tutted at the sight of her on his bed. "Y'know, love, while I do love having beautiful women lying in my bed, I'd appreciate a little warning before they-"
His voice fell sharply as she whimpered in pain.
"Pegsy?" Jack frowned.
Peggy cringed at the sound of his voice, biting down hard on her lip as she desperately tried to suppress the groan of pain that swept through her.
There was the quick, clumsy thudding of booted feet and the clink of a glass bottle on a nearby table.
"Oi! Love, what is it? What's wrong?" Jack frowned, prodding her shoulder carefully as if she were covered in green slime, and he did not want to get any on himself "Oi! Pegs. Gah, please don't tell me it's contagious-"
"Issnot" Peggy moaned, eyes tight shut as she buried herself into the fresh sheets. "hurts."
"Ohh…you on the rag again?" Jack recoiled, pulling a face. "Because if ye are love, please move back to your bed. As much as I like you, I don't want you to bleed on my sheets."
"I'm not bleeding, Jack", Peggy whined. "It's my chest."
"Yer chest again?" Jack's eyes narrowed, remembering how she had nearly bent double when they had spoken up on deck earlier that day. "What's goin' on Pegsy? What the blazes happened to ya while you were gone?"
"It was…I was…" Peggy mumbled as she gingerly pushed herself back up to sit, aided by Jack's hands flying to her shoulders. "It's a long story…"
"Then ya better start from the top." Jack reached out and plucked his bottle of rum from the bedside table. "But first, take a sip. I know-I know, you think this tastes like piss." He rolled his eyes at her as she opened her mouth to protest. "But this is the good stuff, lass; it'll take the edge off. Trust me on this one."
Peggy nodded as she let her captain help her take a drink from the bottle. What else did she have to lose? She was dying anyway. Who knew? Maybe the alcohol might preserve her innards and keep her alive for a little longer.
"That's it, love. Take a good long swig."
To her surprise, the rum was not too bad. She did not know if it was because of the pain or her terrible state or if it was some of the good stuff. Whatever it was, Jack was right; it dulled a little of the pain in her chest and made her head buzz pleasantly.
"Better?" Jack quirked a brow, and Peggy softly belched.
"A bit."
"A'right then. Start from the top. Tell ol' Jack what happened to ye after we said goodbye?"
And Peggy did tell him. Through tears and small sips of rum, she told him everything about her father, Sloane, the Selkies' bond, and her feelings about Will.
While she spoke, she did not notice the Pirate's brown eyes staring at the black ring of ink on her wrist, gleaming with a cold light.
Now, what have we here?
Will Turner was pacing up and down the Black Pearl's bow, rubbing his chest over his heart.
It had been an hour since he tried to sleep in his hammock. One whole hour since, his chest had started stinging terribly.
He'd never felt anything quite like it, and he had been beaten and injured quite a few times. But this pain was somehow more profound than any other he had felt before. It felt just as emotional as it was physical.
Is that even possible for chest injuries? Will wondered to himself
It had died down a lot since then, though the dull ache persisted as he turned his eyes towards the glass doors of the captain's cabin. It was like that strange moment when he heard that horn blow on the cannibal's island.
He knew where it came from but did not know why.
I need to talk to Peggy. Will frowned as he strode up to the doors. If this is connected to her, then I need answers. This is driving me mad! But will she even want to see me?
His heart sank as he remembered how pointedly she avoided his eye after their accidental kiss that morning. He understood why she was embarrassed. It was a very vulnerable situation, and with all the strange and confusing feelings flying like static electricity, it was no wonder she felt awkward.
Yet something inside Will also felt disappointed that she had recently recoiled so much at his touch or look. She was always warm and affectionate when it was just the two of them in the past. Nowadays, she was desperate to push him away, only letting her guard down when distracted by something else or was in her seal form.
He knew that it was improper of him to long for her affection. After all, he was betrothed to Elizabeth, and to be so desperate for the touch of a woman he was unrelated to by blood was bordering on infidelity. But this was Peggy. His Peggy.
They had been by one another's side for so long and had cared about one another so much…unless Peggy had loved Will enough to form a Selkie's bond…
But no…it can't be. It just can't.
And why not? Another voice hissed in his head. A voice that eerily sounded like Jack's. What if she was in love with you? What would things be like then?
Will leaned against the ship's railings, looking over the darkened waters.
As much as it pained him to think along these lines, his inner voice had a point. What if Annamaria was right and Peggy was really in love with him? What would that mean for this situation?
But if she were in love with him, why would she not tell him? his other inner voice groaned in confusion. Why would she not just tell him how she felt if not being with him caused her this much pain?
Unless…Unless it was because she knew his heart lay with another…
Will's breathing came out shallow as horror welled up within him.
He had told Peggy years ago of his feelings for Elizabeth. She knew he had loved the noblewoman from afar. He even supported and comforted him whenever Elizabeth was forced not to associate with him publicly.
And yet…
"Why? Do you want me to leave so you and Lizzy can sail off into the sunset in one another's arms and enjoy your happy-ever-after while I rot in the bottom of some old, leaky tub?"
Will remembered how bitter Peggy had sounded when she had said those words aboard the Interceptor. He had always shrugged them off as she was messing with him, as they usually did; however, deep down, a part of him wondered if it had not been true and if she was trying to cover up her hurt.
He remembered how she had sung the Torment of Calypso only moments before that conversation and how angrily she had chopped vegetables with that knife. He would never forget the sorrow in her eyes.
Was it because she loved him and was pained to see him with Elizabeth?
But if it had hurt her, why didn't she say anything?
Why?
The door to the captain's cabin opened, and Will turned to see Jack striding out. He had long since removed the bizarre face paint from his eyes, reapplied his kohl, and changed into cleaner clothes. His footsteps were cautious, and he carefully shut the door behind him.
His expression was unnaturally grim as he looked out over the deck. When he spotted Will at the ship's bow, his gaze darkened.
"Ah, Will. Just the man I was hoping to see." Jack smirked, eyes cold as ice as he sauntered oh-so-casually towards the blacksmith. "Can't sleep, ey?"
"It's been a hectic day," Will muttered, unable to meet the man's gaze and choosing to look out over the ocean instead.
"I can imagine." Jack snorted. "Being chased by cannibals? Hunting me down. Kissin' Pegsy behind me back and usin' her bleedin' heart to get what you want-"
"Jack, what are you-"
"Don't play coy with me, mate." Jack snorted, leaning back against the ship's railing. "You've been happily skippin' out into the sunset without a care in the world for what happened to that girl, and now here you are, usin' her to get me to save your beloved Lizzy once again? And people call me selfish." He snorted bitterly, looking up at the railing.
"Selfish?" Will hissed, his chest now burning with angry heat. "Me? I'm not the one who used Peggy to get back the Pearl-"
"Yes, but at least I'm honest with her about my selfishness, lad!" Jack sneered, keeping his cool despite his obvious derisive pleasure. "I use her as me cabin girl, and she uses me for protection. It's a win-win for both of us, one that's all fair and above board. You, on the other hand, use her, then dump her for six months and pretend you care when you need her again for something. And worse still, you believe it's your divine right to do so because you're a 'decent person' who knew her for ten years-"
"You're wrong!" Will's nostrils flared as white-hot rage flooded him. However, he willed himself to stay calm. Jack was trying to rile him up for a reason. Most likely hoping to find an excuse to dump him in the brig or lord something over him. But Will would not fall into that trap.
"Really?" Jack chuckled darkly. "So these past six months, you never bothered to reach out to Pegs to see if she was fine? Weren't you worried at all for her-"
"Of course, I was worried about her!" Will growled, his grip on the ship's railing tightening so hard his knuckles were going pale. "Of course I was! There wasn't one day that I wondered if she was fine! You don't have any idea how many nights I lay awake worrying if she was still alive out here or not. But I thought she was happy sailing with you. I saw her on the Interceptor, Jack. She was different than she was at home. More herself. Happier. And after everything her father put her through I…I did not want to hold her back."
"I see? And yet you did not care enough to check in or send word?"
"Just because I was not there for six months doesn't mean I stopped caring! Why does everyone assume I don't care about what happened to her while I was gone?"
"Because actions speak louder than words, mate," Jack grunted, fixing the young blacksmith with a piercing stare. "And let's face it. Your actions hurt Pegsy."
"But I didn't mean to-"
"Didn't mean to what, mate?" Jack cut across him, his tone sharp as a blade "Didn't lap up her attention, enjoy her affections, lead her on by pretending to play house in that dingy little hovel? Didn't put her in danger and use her to save the life of the other woman you supposedly love? And then, when you had the chance, you traded up for said other woman right in front of everyone else, humiliatin' her and screwing her over in front of everyone? And now here you are, six months later, bold as brass, chasin' after her the minute she becomes useful to you again? I'll say one thing: I've broken my fair share of hearts, it's true, but never have any of those affairs ever killed a lady like you have."
Will felt his stomach jolt like the ground had just vanished beneath his feet.
"What did you just say?"
"I said, I've broken a lot of hearts…but never have I killed someone because of it." Jack took a hearty swig from a rum bottle he had been carrying. "At least, not that I know of. A few of them wenches have been pretty upset at me, but I don't think it's ever made them kick the bucket by rejectin' them."
"No…" Will shut his eyes, dread building in his chest despite his attempt to swallow it down. "No…it's not true."
"Who'd have thought it ey?" Jack mused, ignoring Will's desperate attempts to keep himself from breaking apart. "Ruddy selkies, I tell ya. Strong as an ox when you piss them off, but oh-so-delicate in matters of the heart-"
"No-no-no-no!" Will leaned to press his head into the ship railing.
"Especially Pegsy. Then again, I don't know why I'm so surprised. The girl was always so soft underneath all that temper-"
"Stop it!"
"Practically begged Barbossa not to kill ye. And I ain't known that girl to beg for anything, not even me." Jack rolled his eyes as he took another swig of rum. "I tell ya mate, if I weren't so pissed at ye for what you did to Pegs, I'd be bowin' to you and beggin' you to teach me how a eunuch like you manage to make a selkie so devoted to you she'd literally die for you-"
"Shut up, Jack!" Will's shout pierced across the deck of the Pearl, echoing through the still night air. "Shut up! You don't know what you're talking about so shut up!"
High above in the crow's nest, Paulie the Parrot squawked indignantly, the flaps of his wings the only sound to be heard on the now silent deck of the Black Pearl. Even Gibbs, who had been stationed at the helm for the first half of the night shift with Sloane to keep him company, was silent as they watched Will tower over Jack.
The blacksmith was panting for breath, his brown eyes wild and furious, and his fists clenched tight into the scruff of Jack's shirt. Jack himself was looking surprised but satisfied and smug at the result as he hissed:
"Oh, don't I?"
Will cursed himself as he caught sight of the gleam in the pirate's eyes.
He had played right into the knave's hands. Jack wanted to get under his skin, and Peggy's condition gave him the ammunition he needed to hit Will where it hurt most.
"Funny you of all people would accuse me of not knowing," the man sneered as Will let him go and quickly stepped back. "Especially since you know I know exactly what I'm talking about."
"What are you after, Jack?" Will growled, the dregs of his self-control hanging on by a thread. "Why are you doing this?"
"Oh, many reasons could come to mind. I could easily waste away the night listing them chronologically or alphabetically" Jack leaned back casually against the railing of his ship. "But since your simple brain cannot comprehend such matters, I'll keep it short and sweet." His brown eyes narrowed and his voice softened to a sneer "You hurt my girl; now you got to pay the price. The question is…how will you pay for it, hmm?"
Will shivered as the kohl-lined brown eyes bore into him with such icy fury that he almost stepped back. It was eerie how flamboyant and bewildering the pirate could be in one moment and deadly terrifying in the next.
Will always prided himself on being brave in the face of danger. However, being on the receiving end of Jack's hatred and ire was perhaps one of the most nerve-wracking experiences of his life. Not even Peggy, furious in her selkie form, held a candle to this.
Jack was not one quick to temper, but if there was one thing his killing of Barbossa proved, it did not mean he was a man easily crossed.
"Jack, I…" Will gulped down on his nerves, though he could not meet the pirate's eyes. "I…I never meant to hurt Peggy. Truly, I swear I did not know!" he cried out as Jack scoffed and took another quaff of his drink. "I…I always thought we cared for one another only as friends. I did not realise she felt so strongly for me, and she never told me-"
"Probably because she knew you were in love with someone else." Jack snorted, and Will groaned as his head fell into his hands. "Probably because she had to grow up listening to your sorry arse mooning over that noble brat while she slaved away and did everything for you without any gratitude."
"Shut it, Jack! I was always grateful for what Peggy did for me. We had a good lif,e and we were happy-"
"And yet you chose to give up that happy life for the high life the minute you saw your chance." Jack's eyebrows rose coldly. "Just like your father, ey?"
"How dare you-" Will breathed, feeling like he had been punched in the guts. Jack, however, did not seem to be bothered by his distress.
"Oh, I dare quite easily. See, I knew your dad well in the days before he got tied up by the old bootstraps. Guess I should have seen the signs. You may have inherited most of your good looks from your mother's side, but you are your father's son."
Will stared at the deck, unable to look Jack in the eye from disgust. He could not believe Jack would stoop so low…even if he did know his father better than he did…and had sailed with him…had trusted him like a friend.
"Let me ask you something, Will," Jack coughed as he accidentally swallowed some rum down the wrong pipe. "Let's just say" – Cough – "If Pegsy had told you that she loved you right here, right now, and that you had broken her heart and doomed her to death because of what you did. What would you do ey?"
"What do you mean 'what would you do?' I'd try to help her any way I could!" Will stared at the pirate incredulously.
"And how would you do that ey?" Jack rolled his eyes "What if the only way to help her was to return her affections and leave Elizabeth for good-"
"Jack, you can't just ask me to abandon the woman I love for-"
"Ahh! There we have it!" Jack steamrolled over the top of the blacksmith with a roll of his eyes. "You claim to care the world about Pegsy, but when push comes to shove, and your cushy life gets threatened, you back out. And yet, despite all that, you want to have your cake with Pegsy and eat the one you have with Elizabeth, too."
Will shut his mouth, though, from anger or horror at himself, he could not tell.
"Just because I don't return Peggy's feelings doesn't mean I want to see her die." He whispered, feeling his eyes burn with unshed tears. "Besides, it would be cruel of me to pretend to return her feelings to save her life. What if she found out that I did that…it would break her heart even worse."
"Ha!" Jack laughed, a hollow, derisive sound that sent chills through Will's bones. "Funny…Pegsy said the exact same thing when I asked her the same question."
"She did?" Will felt his heart sink at this. Then again, he reasoned, she did know him better than most.
"Aye. She did." Jack sneered at Will. "Right after she started wallowing about how she'd never be able to compare with how perfect Elizabeth is. Stupid girl," Jack shook his head and sighed, "got it in her head that she's ugly and worthless because she ain't some prissy and posh English Rose like your fiancé. Can you imagine? Pegsy, a gorgeous child of the ocean, calling herself ugly? I would have slapped her if she weren't in such a state."
With every word, Will felt like a shard of glass had been hammered home into his heart.
Peggy, a beautiful woman Will had seen men fight for, thought herself ugly. Peggy, who was so proud of her skills as a pirate, her prowess with a sword, and her ability to fight her own battles, thought herself worthless.
Will could feel his legs shake from the shock. He could not believe what he was hearing. It was bad enough to know he had hurt her feelings. But to know that he had not just broken her heart, but also her self-esteem, her happiness…her spirit…
"Where is she?" He gulped down on the hard lump in his throat. "Where is Peggy?"
"Where do you think she is, mate? In her nook." Jack shrugged. "Why?"
"I've got to talk to her." Will took a step away, but Jack quickly grabbed his arm.
"And why do you need to talk to her?"
"Why do you think Jack?!" Will snapped, jerking his shoulder out of Jack's grip. "I need to talk with her about all this. I need to hear the truth from her—the whole truth."
"Ahh. Don't trust ol' Jack with this, do you?" Jack smirked.
"You said so yourself; you wanted me to pay for hurting Peggy," Will growled. "How do I know you're not just saying this all to me to get back at me?"
"Good question," Jack admitted. But I would not bother talking to Pegsy right now. She's a bit indisposed."
"Why?"
"Because she's three sheets to the wind and passed out in her bed, that's why." The pirate lord shrugged.
"You mean you plied her with drink? You know she's a light-weight!" Will snarled, and Jack sighed in exasperation.
"It was the only way to get her to sleep after all that pain she was in."
"Pain?" Will's nostrils flared, and Jack grimaced, looking uncomfortable for the first time since the conversation began.
"Aye. Apparently, these selkies take this broken heart thing a bit too literally."
Will felt all the blood drain from his face as he touched his chest.
"Well, as much as I enjoy watching you squirm, I got to hit the sack. This ship ain't gonna captain itself in the mornin'." Jack clapped him on the shoulder as if they were old buddies chewing the fat rather than captain and crew arguing.
Will watched the man walk away, his heart sinking lower and lower into his chest till he almost swore it was falling out onto the deck below.
So that pain he had felt earlier…was that from Peggy?
She was dying in pain…because of him?
Will Turner shut his eyes.
Oh god, was she in that pain right now?
Was that what he was feeling in his chest?
Will barely heeded Jack's warning shout as he rushed past him into the captain's cabin. It was dark and lit only by a few candles burning in candelabras along the walls. However, based on all her descriptions, Will quickly found the door to Peggy's nook.
Quickly, he turned the handle of her door, pushing it open with a hard thrust of his shoulder as he called:
"Peg?!"
Will looked around the tiny space. It was only a tiny bit larger than the nook on the Interceptor, and it was more lived-in if the trinkets and silks hanging from the ceiling were any indication. The full moon glowed through a large window on the wall opposite the door, illuminating the bed cot built into the wall.
And there she was in that bed under a thick grey blanket. Peggy's copper hair strewn about the thin pillow and her skin pale under the moonlight. She was on her side, curled into a tight ball, her hand clutching her shirt around her chest. Will felt something inside him crack as he saw the glistening tear tracks staining her freckled cheeks as she whimpered and moaned softly in pain.
Will knew the sounds well, for he had looked after her often whenever she caught a fever. Swift as lightning, he reached out to touch her forehead. Her temperature felt normal. However, the second he tried touching her skin again, she recoiled, eyes shut and whispered desperately:
"No-no-no!"
Will pulled his hand away sharply, staring down at her in horror. He noticed her claws had extended from her nails and were scratching nastily at the skin on her chest.
"Will, get out here!" Jack warned as he slouched into the cabin after the blacksmith, but Will was not listening. "That's an order lad!"
Without pausing, Will reached out and grabbed Peggy's hands. He was unsure what he hoped to achieve, but anything had to be better than watching her claw at her heart like a beast digging up dirt. His eyes shut as he caught sight of the dark red scratches over her skin, one or two marks, dribbling a few droplets of blood.
Half-asleep, Peggy squirmed desperately, trying to get her hands out of Will's grasp as she curled in on herself. Still, Will held on, lacing his fingers in hers to stop her from twisting out of his grip.
"Disobeyin' a direct order from your captain? I should have ye thrown in the brig for this." Jack shook his head as he stalked up behind Will's back.
"She's hurting herself!" Will whispered fiercely, and Jack sucked in a sharp breath as he, too, caught sight of the scratches.
"Damn, girl. You, Sloane, go get some sea water and some rags."
"Aye, captain."
Will clenched his hands on Peggy's as he heard the male selkie leave. Of course, Sloane would become the captain's pet so quickly. The man was just so helpful.
But Will's bitterness at the man was overpowered when Jack moved to lean on the wall by Peggy's head, arms folded.
"Do you believe me now?" The pirate snorted. However, Will could not sense any of his sadistic pleasure from before. Not even Jack could find anything amusing about this situation. "Truth hurts, don't it?"
"There has to be some way to stop this," Will whispered, staring at Peggy's claw-like nails as they withdrew and became normal human ones again. He could make out the stains of fresh blood just beneath her nailbeds on a couple of them. "We can't just let her die like this. Whatever I did to her…I can't just…"
"We all die eventually, William." Jack snorted bitterly. "Some just get to the finish line faster than others. You just happened to push her along to get there faster. Now…if only there was a way to pull her somehow back that would be somethin' savvy?"
There was a pause as Will looked up at the pirate. His eyebrows were quirked conspiratorially as he nodded to the rag that Will had tucked away in his belt.
Will looked down at the scrap of cloth, remembering his earlier deal.
"I take it you have a plan then."
"Nope. None whatsoever." Jack admitted. "But I'll figure it out soon. Just need a few more bits and bobs. Besides, if you're serious about savin' this one and makin' amends-"
"Of course I am!"
"-Then you'll do everything in your power to help me find that key first, ey?"
"Why? What's so special about it?" Will frowned suspiciously, and Jack shrugged.
"Dunno yet." Jack shrugged nonchalantly. "That's why we need to find out as soon as possible. An' accordin' to Master Gibbs, we should be there in the morning."
"Where?"
"You'll see, mate." Jack gently brushed some of Peggy's curls from her face before patting her cheek. "Now, if you want to sleep here tonight, that's fine. But if Pegsy wakes up and boots you out, then out you go, savvy?"
"Aye…I will." Will nodded, grateful that Jack was letting him off the hook for his blatant invasion of his space.
He should have thrown Will in the brig for insubordination when he had yelled at him.
But Jack needed Will. As angry as the pirate was at him, he needed Will's help to get what he wanted.
"Captain Sparrow. The seawater and rags." Sloane hissed from behind Will's back.
"Good man, pass 'em here. You Will," Jack swatted Will's shoulder and thrust a small bucket of seawater and the clean rags into his hand. "Clean her up, and no funny business. You, Sloane, get back on deck with Gibbs toot sweet."
Will sighed but kept his mouth shut as Jack left the nook and shut the door behind him. At least the pirate captain had not told Sloane to clean Peggy up. Will did not think he could handle it, knowing that Selkie had put his hands all over Peggy while she was asleep and helpless.
She was still dead asleep to the world, the alcohol and her exhaustion rendering her utterly oblivious to his presence. Will wished she'd wake up. He had to tell her how sorry he was and make things right. She had to know that he did not mean for any of this to happen. Even if he did love someone else, that did not mean she was worthless or unworthy. She had to know that. He could not let her die in all this pain, thinking she was useless and unloved.
He shut his eyes as an image flashed across his mind. It was of his mother, with her long brown hair and a tired but lovely face, lying pale and still in a bed. He clutched at her hand and begged her to wake up while one of his neighbours tried to pull him away to a safe distance so he would not catch any of the disease that had taken her so swiftly in the night.
He had almost forgotten about that day, not because he did not love his mother, but because it was too painful to think about. One moment, she had been tucking him in for bed with a gentle kiss goodnight; the following day, she was gone. And now the only person who would comfort him whenever he woke up in tears from the memory was about to face the Grim Reaper…because of him.
Jack sighed as his brown kohl-lined eyes peeked through the keyhole of his cabin girl's nook.
Inside, he could see the young blacksmith sinking to his knees and resting his head on the side of Peggy's bed. His shoulders shook as quiet sobs overtook him.
Good god, he had never seen Will Turner look so pathetic. The boy had faced Barbossa and cursed pirates and not even folded once. His stubbornness and courage in the face of danger were both traits that Jack was annoyed by and admired.
And yet, you put the consequences of his actions before the lad, and he crumpled like paper.
Then again, Jack would not deny he had expected some sadness, some impertinence and stubbornness, but this was…you'd think he had told the boy he had lost his wife and-
Jack froze as he looked over his shoulder at the sobbing whelp.
Oh, hell no…And yet Jack could not think of any other reason why the boy had such an intense response to all this mess.
You've got to be kidding me.
Peggy stared at the sun rising over the horizon. Unlike the day before, the sky was a perfect gradient of pink, orange, and gold. The breeze that flowed into the sails was gentle as it brushed through her curls and against her skin. The sky was cloudless, promising a nice dry day after all the rainy storms from the past week.
Though she did love the hustle and bustle of a busy ship, she did love these small moments at the crack of dawn, between day and night shifts, when the deck would be nearly deserted, and she could listen to the gentle waves, the whistle of the winds and the creaking of the wooden boards beneath her feet.
Even now, as her heart was heavy and her mind full of worry, Peggy could not help but relish in this small moment of peace.
According to Jack, who was stumbling around his cabin and getting dressed, they'd reach her shack within a few hours if Peggy had any guesses. By all the sea gods, land could not come any faster.
How long has it been since I first saw that witch? Peggy sighed to herself. Not since before I first met Jack, I think…and now here I am going to see her close to the end. How fitting.
Peggy sucked in a deep soothing breath of salt air, her eyes glancing back over her shoulder to the hutch that led below deck. Will was still fast asleep on the floor of her nook after helping tend to the scratches on her chest.
Peggy reached up to touch the two marks remaining. Even with the seawater he had swabbed, the deepest marks were hardly faded.
How fitting I should now have a scar over my heart like the devil himself.
That nightmare…the devil…It would not be too long till she had to see him again.
A small part of her wondered if that demon's damned ship would be as terrifying to her as it was when she was little. After all, she had a few years of sailing and even fought undead cursed pirates. Yes, the Devil himself frightened her, but that was more because she knew what he was capable of than because of his appearance.
And yet, for all his actions, it was not the Devil that hurt her the most.
"In rage and sorrow, he did swear, To curse her name, her love laid bare, He carved his heart from out his chest, And hid it where their vows did rest." She sang softly, a smile creeping up her lips as her gaze drifted to the churning foam of waves splashing against the red and black hull of the Painted Lady.
"Now cruel and cold, he sails the sea, A heartless man, in agony, Yet deep within, he longs for death, To find her arms in final breath."
Was this how the devil felt as he sailed across oceans, chasing the night and pillaging lost souls to fill the void left by the one who betrayed him? She could not blame him for being harsh and cold if it was. But unlike him, she did not have the luxury of being able to put her heart in a chest and bury it where no one could hurt it.
She sighed as he remembered her talk with Jack the previous night. Well, she called it talk. Truth be told, it was more her weeping on the bed and sipping at his rum while he listened and drank.
He had been surprisingly patient as she recounted every miserable thing that had happened to her since they had parted ways. Of course, he had been surprised by the revelation that she was Cutler Beckett's daughter, though, to her astonishment, he was not angry or disgusted.
As Labelle had said, he found her parentage quite amusing. He laughed when Peggy recalled calling her father a 'hornswoggling bilge-rat.'
"Serves the bastard right." He had chortled, "Ahhh, wish I'd been there to see his face! To think, after all he put me through, his own flesh and blood would become a pirate."
Of course, he had gone on to warn her not to let anyone else know about this particular tidbit. Peggy could see why. Beckett had made himself many enemies who would be only too glad to use her to exact their revenge even if she opposed him.
Peggy's smile widened as she shut her eyes, letting the sea spray below hit her in the face, the sprinkle of cold droplets and the light breeze soothing against her face. Whatever Will had stolen of her heart, a piece of her would always belong to the sea; at least, that was some comfort.
She was so absorbed in soaking in the sun and the sea that she overlooked a figure clambering onto the deck behind her.
Will Turner sighed in relief as he caught sight of the back of a familiar head of fiery copper curls flying loose in the wind. She was wearing her breeches, shirt, and sash again, with a sword and pistol on her hips and a small smile playing on her lips as she basked, eyes closed, in the glory of the sunrise bathing the Black Pearl in golden light.
The call in his throat was silenced as she turned her head, eyes sliding open a fraction. Pricking her ears towards the rigging, she listened to the clanking of metal and the ship's creaking.
That smile was like the one that had haunted him for six months in that lonely apartment above the forge.
The one she had worn all those months ago, just before she had jumped off the Fort Charles bluff with Jack. She even had the golden sunlight shining on her hair. Her freckled face was soft and gentle, her grey-blue eyes sparkling like the water below as a couple of tears escaped them to trickle down her face.
Normally, Will would have leapt at the chance to wipe those tears off her face, but for some reason, he found himself rooted to where he stood, staring transfixed at the moisture on her cheeks as the sunlight danced off the droplets.
Was it the sea spray that had irritated her eyes? But then, why was she smiling in such resignation like that? Was she still feeling the effects of what happened last night?
He opened his mouth to call for her, only to shut his mouth as a familiar voice barked:
"Oy Lass! Get yer head outta the clouds and get ready!"
Will turned to glare at Gibbs, who had strode up from below deck, his expression haggard and tired from spending half the night at the helm.
Peggy, however, did not seem phased by the order. Indeed, she seemed glad, even a little fond of the older sailor.
"Morning Joshamee! You're in a lovely mood this morning." She quipped sarcastically as Gibbs shook his head.
"If by lovely do you mean my thighs and knees are still killin' me after that run from death yesterday, then yes, I suppose I am. How're ya feelin'? Better than last night?"
"A bit." Peggy nodded with a smile, and at once, Will felt his shoulders relax.
It was not a fake smile that she had worn aboard Labelle's ship but a real one. Now that he thought about it, though Peggy was still distressed, she was far more relaxed now she was back on the Black Pearl.
Almost as relaxed as if she were back at home in their apartment.
This is her home, his heart ached at the thought. For the past six months, this has been her home…without me…
His heart sank as he felt Gibb's tired eyes turn on him.
"Oh, Will, you're up? Good. You can go and help me with the longboat. And You, Peggy, get the Captain his breakfast, though I warn ya he's in an odd mood."
"The man is in an odd mood." Peggy rolled her eyes but nodded at the First mate before ducking her head to Will and mumbling.
"Will,"
"Peggy." He nodded back, his heart sinking as she dashed by him without a second glance, her cheeks flushed.
Gibbs watched as Will sighed in dismay, his brown eyes staring wistfully after Peggy as she dashed below deck for her chores.
As angry as Gibbs was at the lad for everything that had gone down in the last six months, he could not help but feel a little sorry for him, too. Whatever was said and done, the news Jack had dumped on him last night was not easy news for any man to swallow, and to the boy's credit, he was trying his best to put things right…even if his attempts were as clumsy as an oversized bull in a potters workshop.
"I've failed her…haven't I?" Will muttered, his tone listless and hollow as Gibbs strode up to him.
"Only if you give up on her now." The old sailor gripped his shoulder. "She ain't dead yet, lad. As me old ma used to say, it's not over until it is over. Now, come on, help me with this longboat. Put those blacksmith hands to good use."
Not long after breakfast, The Black Pearl and her crew reached the mainland of Cuba, very close to the mouth of a narrow river that led out to sea and started from deep within the bowels of a dense, lush jungle.
Will and Peggy somehow found themselves side by side in the large, soot-coloured longboat, which was being rowed by Pintell and Ragetti and guarded by Marty and Gibbs. Both had their guns loaded and prepped at the ready.
In a smaller boat a few feet ahead of the upriver were Jack, Cotton, Paulie, and Sloane, who had been tasked to row by Jack while Cotton held onto a birdcage that now contained Jack, the Undead Monkey. It had taken Pintel and Ragetti all morning. Still, eventually, they had managed to lock the primate away with unintentional help from Sloane, who had been eating a piece of fruit that they had stolen straight from his hand to lure the animal.
The male selkie had been especially peeved at the two buffoons, and so Jack had thought it best to keep them separate if only to keep the already mounting tensions from exploding.
Now that Peggy had considered it, Jack managed to keep his crew in line pretty well despite the anxieties plaguing his mind.
For starters, he kept Will working closely with Gibbs. The older sailor had always been fond of the blacksmith and was good at keeping him busy. Marty had been put to work keeping an eye on Sloane, and after serving Jack his breakfast, Peggy had been put in charge of keeping her eyes on Pintel and Ragetti to see if they were behaving themselves.
Now that the two men had been freed of the curse of Isla de Muerta, they were far more skittish around Jack and his new crew and incredibly nervous around Peggy.
They kept calling her Miss Blake or Miss Peggy. Peggy found it weird, as she remembered how often they sneered at her when she first joined Jack's crew as a young girl. However, they were nearly as bootlicking and deferential to her as they were to Jack.
Was it because she was a selkie? Or was it because of her connection to the pirate lord?
Either way, Peggy would be watching them for any deception moving forward. Leopards, even two as cowardly and snivelling as them, did not change their spots so easily.
"Why is Jack so afraid of the open ocean?" Will whispered as they watched Jack flinch at the sight of a fish's fin skimming above the river's surface.
"Well, if you believe such things," Gibbs coughed, leaning forward conspiratorially. "There's a beast does the bidding of Davy Jones. A fearsome creature with giant tentacles that'll suction yer face clean off and drag an entire ship down to the crushing darkness. The Kraken."
Gibbs's shudder was echoed by everyone else on the boat, even Will, who was listening with horrified fascination as the old sailor continued:
"They say the stench of its breath is like…" Imagine, the last thing you know on God's green earth is the roar of the Kraken and the reeking odour of a thousand rotting corpses…Well…if you believe such things." Gibbs gulped down on his fear as he readjusted his grip on his gun.
"And the key will spare him that?" Will frowned.
"Well, that's the very question Jack wants answered," Peggy mumbled, looking at Gibbs, who nodded.
"Aye, bad enough even to go visit…HER."
"Her?" Will quirked a brow, glancing again at Peggy for an explanation.
"Tia Dalma…an old friend of his." Peggy coughed stiffly. "She's a voodoo priestess."
"Voodoo?" Pintel scoffed. "What as in witchy stuff like ooh! " The grimy pirate wiggled his fingers in Peggy's face, which Will was quick to swat down.
"I would not try that if I were you." Peggy's lip curled, and the coldness in her stare quickly cowed the pirate. "but yes, she does practice magic...of a sort…the powerful…really old kind."
"You seem quite familiar with her work." Will tilted his head at her, and Peggy grimaced.
"I stayed with her a while when I was young." She shifted in her seat. "After I fell off my father's ship, and I overstayed my welcome on another ship, I was dumped off near this very river. She took me in and helped me get back on my feet. She told me when I was ready that I should head for Tortuga…That not all pearls of freedom were to be found in oysters." Peggy glanced pointedly at Jack's stiff back. "She and Jack were quite 'close' back in the day. Helped him find a few interesting artefacts, and gave him information, so long as he paid the right price...or satisfied her curiosity…among other things." She grimaced in disgust, and Will smirked as he guessed her meaning.
"I'm guessing he hasn't seen her in a long time."
"As far as I know." Peggy glanced at Gibbs, who shrugged.
"Your guess is as good as mine, lass."
"We can trust her, though?" Will frowned at Peggy, who sighed.
"That depends,"
"On what?"
"If she likes you." Peggy answered, "And she can be very fickle. I'm amazed she likes Jack, given how often he likes to nick stuff from his lovers."
"Captain Jack has always had a way with the ladies." Ragetti sniggered at Pintel as he hauled on his oar. "Remember that fussy noblewoman from Hispaniola?"
"Which one?" Pintel snorted.
"Y'know, the one with the huge knockers." Ragetti tried only for Pintel now to roll his eyes.
"That doesn't narrow the list down at all!"
They kept bickering softly, much to everyone's exasperation. Everyone except Peggy was keeping a close watch on Jack's back with a pensive look, and Will was watching her closely.
Was it just his imagination, or did she look guilty?
She might feel embarrassed about last night,… he mused, though he did not say anything about it.
After that, they kept rowing in semi-silence, the only sounds coming from Pintel and Ragetti as they argued and bickered about Jack's numerous escapades.
Still, Will watched Peggy listlessly stare over the river, her eyes occasionally flickering to a few of the natives that lived along its banks.
According to Gibbs, a whole village lived in and amongst the jungle stretched along the entire river. They were very secretive and dangerous, but as long as the crew of the Pearl kept to themselves and stayed in the good books of the voodoo priestess, they would not face any threat from anyone along their journey.
She must be quite a formidable witch if she can garner the respect of Jack and a selkie. Will thought, shutting his eyes, his ears pricking as Peggy began to hum the now familiar tune of The Torment of Calypso…all the while tracing her chest where the scratches had once been.
They had long since healed after Peggy had taken the opportunity to splash herself with seawater as they rowed out from the Black Pearl. But Will would never forget the sight of the blood on her skin in a hurry. And nor it seemed, would she.
How much pain did one have to be in to claw at their own body like that?
Then he remembered the song she was singing and felt his insides shudder.
Hadn't there been a line about a man carving out his heart?
Even so, he found himself leaning tiredly into Peggy's shoulder, his body seeking her warmth as they drifted along the river.
"Will?" Peggy frowned as she felt the blacksmith sigh and melt into her side.
"Let him be." Gibbs hushed her as they watched Will's breathing slow down. "He's been up most of the night."
Peggy sighed and gently took Will's head, manoeuvring him down so he was draped over her lap instead. As much as her brain told her to shove him off and wake him up, she could not help but remember all those lazy Sundays they read in front of the fireplace in Mister Brown's apartment after church. Or rather, she would read on the floor, and Will would fall asleep with his head in her lap as he listened to her, occasionally piping in when he missed a passage or wanted to laugh at some line.
They had not done that in years…not since Will had taken over most of Mister Brown's workload that would force him to work late into the evenings, even after dinner.
Those had been simpler days.
If I had told him everything back then…could we have been happy? Or was it never enough for him? Would he always have pined for more? Peggy wondered as she continued to hum under her breath, her fingers drifting through Will's brown locks.
As she stared out over the passing riverbank, she was completely unaware of the blacksmith on her lap, sighing in contentment.
Contrary to what his crewmates believed, Will was not fast asleep. He was tired but not so much that he would drift off so easily. He had been about to pry himself from Peggy's shoulder when she moved his head over her legs.
He would have protested the change in position had he not felt her fingers thread themselves into his hair.
Then, he felt like all his thoughts had flown out the window.
God, he had missed this.
He had almost forgotten what it felt like to have her hands on his head like this, gently stroking through his locks, brushing them away from his face, untangling the occasional knots with such a tender touch he hardly felt any pain.
And on top of that, her lap was so warm and soft, the familiar sensation of her body moving up and down as she breathed so soothing against the back of his head…
How long had it been since he had been so calm in her arms like this?
That's right, not since he was sixteen. He had stopped sitting with her in the afternoons after church because Mister Brown had doubled his workload.
That old drunk bastard, Will, cursed his old master. It had been one of the few times in the week where Will could safely relax and sit and be without having to think, and even that had to be taken from him. It was also the only day off he and Peggy had shared. They had gotten so busy with work that apart from breakfast and dinner, they could hardly spend as much time together, just enjoying one another's company save that one day.
Only after Will got engaged to Elizabeth he got those free afternoons back. At first, they were fun as he spent many of them officially courting Elizabeth, getting to know her again and spending time with her. But once the ring was on her finger, boom, all his free time was gone, and it was off to appointments for wedding planning or visiting other noblemen friends, taking lessons in etiquette and politics, and talking to vendors. Any rare time Will did have time to himself back at his apartments, he also monopolised doing all the chores around the house. Chores that Peggy used to keep up with like clockwork.
Of course, Will had adapted quickly to life alone again, but even he had to admit, Peggy had left him some pretty big shoes to fill when it came to keeping up with the housekeeping. Of course, he did help her out when they were living together, but those moments hardly felt like work, for they would while away the hours chatting or simply enjoying each other's quiet company.
Spending time with Elizabeth…well, it was fun. But it also left him feeling a little on edge. She often had many things planned in her day and was always rushing to go somewhere or talk to someone. Not a day went by when she was always either hosting someone or visiting one of her many friends and though they were her friends, Will was not quite sure he liked their company. They were polite with him, but it was a sharp, cold sort of politeness that made him feel less included and more tolerated. And they always seemed to be chipping and changing their minds about who or what they liked depending on how fashionable it was. Will often wondered if many of her friends weren't just nice to Elizabeth because of her station as the Governor's daughter. When dealing with him alone, they were far more awkward and, in some cases, just snide. One or two were genuinely nice people, but even they were few and far between.
Then there was Elizabeth herself. Yes, she was no longer the same sweet girl he had once admired in their youth, and yes, she had grown into a very astute, capable, beautiful and adventurous young woman. However, she sometimes fell into the trap of superficiality, just as her noble peers did. Will felt his chest ache with guilt as he remembered one dinner party two months ago when one of the single men who had been invited had gotten a little tipsy and would not stop flirting with her. Will had gotten quite uncomfortable and had politely asked him to stop, but Elizabeth had quickly shushed him and told him to let the man continue to make a fool of himself.
However, Will sensed that she had secretly enjoyed the attention since the next day, and she could not stop talking and giggling about it the next day. It did not help that the man had been handsome and one of her previous admirers before either Will or Norrington entered the picture. It had taken her father, Governor Swann, to get her to understand Will's perspective, as he had also disapproved of the man's behaviour. Of course, Elizabeth had apologised profusely to Will when the point had gotten through, but he had a sneaking suspicion that it was to keep the peace and stop an argument.
Now that Will thought about it, he nor Elizabeth had hardly fought in the last six months, and if they had, she often won in some form or another. Usually, people would have boasted and felt pleased about such an achievement, but to Will, it felt odd. Everyone had told him it was all a part of the newlywed/honeymoon phase, never to argue and be over the moon about one another. However, Will had grown up watching many courtships and marriages in the village, and even the most loving of couples would occasionally argue about small things. Hell, even he and Peggy bickered and ragged on one another while they lived together. But Elizabeth seemed almost desperate to snuff out any conflict before it happened, even if it meant stifling any room for any tough conversation about their future.
Sometimes, it seemed to Will that the wedding was more important to Elizabeth than their married life afterwards.
Whenever Will brought up a tough conversation about the future beyond, he was often sent to talk to her father. Yet, while Governor Swann was a good person to look to for advice, he was, first and foremost, Elizabeth's father, not Will's. Of course, he would take his daughter's side over Will's in any argument.
Also, he was marrying Elizabeth. Surely they should be on the same page to share a life? Or did she believe they would have a life separate from one another like all the other noblemen and noblewomen did when they married?
Will kept telling himself to be understanding that she had grown up differently from him and would most likely expect different things in her marriage…still did that have to mean his views were shunted to the side? What if they had children together? He knew it was unusual for a man of his new social standing, but he did want to be more involved in his children's lives. But would Elizabeth foist their future child off to a nursemaid or a governess without consulting him like Beckett had done to Peggy and her little sister Katrina? Would he just be expected to follow along with what she wanted because he should count himself lucky to have married into her wealth and status?
Unbidden Will remembered Peggy holding little Timmy Barker after the attack on Port Royal. How natural she was with him even in the face of danger. Then how patient and kind she was with young Katrina, despite the girl being the daughter of the woman who had tried to kill her?
Would Elizabeth be as hands-on or understanding with her future children?
All these questions, and yet his bride-to-be would not even talk to him about any of them.
He buried himself into Peggy's lap as she shushed Pintel and Ragetti before their newest round of bickering could get loud and out of hand again.
Oh, how Will wished all this mess about the Selkie bond never existed, if only so he could talk to Peggy properly like they used to.
It did not have to be about Elizabeth or his marriage. He just wanted to talk with someone without feeling stifled into agreeing for the sake of keeping the peace. He wanted to discuss his problems or even argue with her if she disagreed. He wanted to hear her swear at him and get exasperated, to see her facepalm at his stupidity or make a snide remark to his face to rile him up.
Even with all the drama of the past few days, Will had never felt more free. Hell, he would take being punched in the face any day over being forced to sit through another dinner where concerns were shoved under the carpet, never to be talked of again.
I shouldn't think like that. I love Elizabeth. I chose to marry her. This is just our bump in the road to our happiness. That's all it is. We'll figure something out. We will…
Yet as the thought crossed his mind, so too did another voice pipe up viciously.
How can you figure something out if she won't even talk to you about it? Face it. If it were Peggy, you wouldn't have this problem because she'd tell you if something bothered her.
Except now, she was not telling him a thing. Now, she was hiding away, flinching from his touch, avoiding his eye, hardly able to stay in the same space with him without someone to act as a buffer. Her heart weighed with sadness, and she refused to put it into words to spare his feelings. However, given what Will had discovered, he could not blame her for wanting to keep her distance.
He had hurt her. He had hurt her so badly and so brutally she could not be around him without it causing her such ungodly pain in her chest.
The fact that she had lowered her guard around him to let him rest on her lap like this after all they had been through surely had to mean that, deep down, the same feisty, loving, kind girl he had picked up on that beach was still in there and still cared for him.
She was just buried under all the hurt…hurt he had inflicted upon her when he had broken her heart.
But how had he done it? Was there a catalyst? When was the damage done, and how?
She always knew he had feelings for Elizabeth, so when had it all changed? When had it gotten so bad and so painful that she had no choice but to leave? Was it when she met Jack again after all those years? Was it when Barbossa forced her to reveal her true selkie nature?
Will felt that if he knew those details, it would go a long way in helping him find a way to stop the broken bond from killing her. Whether or not he returned her feelings, he could not bear the thought of watching her die in such agony.
In the meantime, however, he would settle for being in her arms and listening to her soft humming.
He knew it was rotten of him to lap up her attention like this, especially now that they came from such a deep place of love.
God, Jack was right, wasn't he? He was selfish and stupid. But still, Will lay there with his head on her lap, just breathing it all in, letting the sounds of the jungle and her soft humming soothe his soul as he tried his best to push aside all other thoughts from his mind.
What he would give to be back in their dingy apartment on a Sunday afternoon, his head on her like this as she read a book aloud to him on the floor. The stew they would have made from their visit to the market would be gently simmering, the sound of the crackling hearth mingling with the noises of the village outside, adding a pleasant background ambience to her voice.
There was the scuffling of shoes and Marty's voice hissing softly from the bow of the longboat.
"There it is!"
"Will. Will, wake up," Peggy whispered as she gently shook his shoulder and ruffled his hair.
Will almost stayed put where he was, a piece of him hoping she would repeat the action.
However, he could feel Gibbs' boot nudging him and knew he could not get away with his act for long.
With a grunt, he opened his eyes and prized himself from Peggy's lap, stretching out his arms.
"Sorry, Peg." He mumbled, pinching his nose. "Just drifted off."
"Well, you better wake up quick, smart." Gibbs hissed, his face a foreboding mask as he nodded ahead in the gloom.
"We're here."
Notes:
Yes, we are finally at Tia Dalma's shack.
Will finally knows what he did to Peggy, and Jack gives him the wake-up call he needs. It's nice to have Jack and Peggy reunited again before all the crazy stuff goes down. I figured that even if Annamaria had opened the floodgates, only Jack could truly hammer the point home for Will, if only because he seems like the kind of character who enjoys digging and twisting the knife. Apologies if anyone is OOC, but we'll soon get into the more juicy meat.
It was interesting to delve more into Will's thoughts in this chapter, especially his past with his mother. She's mentioned a few times in passing, but she always seems to be thrown aside in favour of the drama with his dad in the movies. You'd think having a mother die when you're young would have a profound impact on a person.
(P.S. The quote in the summary is from Herman Melville, the author of Moby Dick)
Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed it. Please keep reading, reviewing, faving, or following for more.
Cheers
Fuzzybeta
Chapter 22: A Touch of Destiny
Summary:
"It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves."
- William ShakespeareAlso,
"I've got a Jar of dirt!'
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
"We're here."
Will Turner looked blearily around at their new surroundings.
They were still drifting on the river, though the trees were so thick that nearly all light from the afternoon sun had been blocked out. Fireflies flitted here and there among the dense foliage. Over the now misty waters, their flickering lights occasionally illuminated a lizard or rodent straying close to the water for a drink.
Burning torches lined the shoreline, attached to ramshackle wooden shacks, the largest of which Pintel and Ragetti were now rowing towards. Jack had already reached the small wooden dock and was busy ordering Sloane and Cotton to tie up his smaller boat while he picked up Jack the monkey's cage.
Will shivered as the longboat stopped on the other side of the tiny dock. Was it just him, or did he and the others pass through some invisible wall of air? Was that part of this voodoo woman's witchcraft?
He looked at Peggy. She, too, looked apprehensive as she rubbed her right wrist, which she had once again bound in bandages. Will frowned at the limb.
He knew why her chest was hurting, but he had still not uncovered the mystery behind her arm. From what he had seen, it seemed fully functional, so why was she so intent on hiding it?
Now that he thought about it, Will noticed Jack had wrapped his palm tightly in bandages.
There's more they're not telling me. Something happened to them both in the last six months that has nothing to do with this selkie bond mess. The blacksmith frowned as Jack approached the ladder leading up to the large shack.
"No worries, mates, Tia Dalma and I go way back." The pirate lord grinned as his crew began to stand up and stretch their legs. "Thick as thieves. Nigh inseparable we are…were…have been... before" His smile fell awkwardly, and Peggy sighed as she and Gibbs rolled their eyes in fond annoyance.
"I'll watch your back." the old sailor clapped a hand on Jack's shoulder.
"It's me front I'm worried about," Jack admitted, glancing at Peggy. "Speaking of fronts, come on, love, you're comin' with me."
"Aye, captain." She nodded, quickly turning to Gibbs and muttering. "Mind the boat."
"Mind the boat." Gibbs frowned back at Will, not wanting to be left behind.
Will, however, was not going to be ordered about so easily. He turned to face Sloan,e who had come up behind him and muttered:
"Mind the boat."
Sloane rolled his eyes, turned back toward Marty, and repeated the order, only to have it passed down to Pintel, then Ragetti, who hissed at Cotton and his parrot Paulie,, who finally squawked.
"Kaaw! Mind the boat."
Cotton pouted as he slumped in his spot alone in the small rowboat but loyally stayed put as was ordered.
After all, he'd probably hear everything from someone anyway. People always liked confiding things in him.
Peggy, meanwhile, gulped nervously as she and Jack clambered up to the shack's front door. They cautiously pushed it open, and Jack ducking for cover as he braced himself.
Peggy was not surprised. Many of the women he had jilted were fond of shooting at him or throwing stuff at him upon seeing his face. However, she knew Tia Dalma would not resort to such tactics.
Not when she had nastier ways of getting vengeance at her fingertips.
Peggy shivered as she crossed the threshold after Jack, the magic of the space rippling through her and making the selkie within purr almost with relief.
She was no magic practitioner, but she could tell by instinct that no harm would come to her in this place. Here, she was safe. Even the Devil's Mark on her arm itched and throbbed less beneath its bindings.
As soon as the warm, calm settled over her, Peggy looked around.
Tia Dalma's shack was as cluttered and crowded as the last time she had been here. Trinkets dotted every cabinet and surface while strange bottles, jars and objects hung from the ceiling. A yellow python lazily draped around a nearby coat stand carved from an old swamp tree stump, basking in the warmth of a bunch of candles lit in one of the many brackets that lined the room.
Many other waxy candles of different shapes and sizes illuminated the entire shack, filling the space with warm yellow light and casting sharp shadows in the corners.
And in the centre of this room was a woman seated at a wooden table, swirling a shallow bowl of water in her hands.
Her deep walnut brown skin had strange dots tattooed under her hypnotic dark eyes. Her teeth were blackened in her dark, blue-tinged lips, and her dark hair fell in long dreadlocks tipped with shells and beads. She wore a dark beaded shawl and a low-cut red and brown dress with a ripped hem, yet all of it suited the air mystique that lay thick around her like an invisible fog over the ocean.
Peggy gulped.
It was eerie how little the woman before her had changed in the last thirteen years. Indeed, she seemed wholly unaffected by the ebb and flow of time, for there were no extra lines on her face or any sign of weariness of age. Was she just blessed with youthful looks? Or was there something more at work here?
Peggy remembered the woman telling her once that she had been around a long time. But how long was a long time? Everyone knew sea witches could keep the Grim Reaper at bay longer than most humans. But just how powerful was she?
"Jack Sparrow!" The dark, mysterious woman smiled warmly and welcomingly as she looked up from her bowl to see Jack's skulking form.
"Tia Dalma!" Jack straightened up quickly, forcing a blasé smile that quickly faded as he nearly bumped his head against a bottle of a strange yellow liquid filled with what appeared to be severed human toes.
"I always knew da wind was goin' to blow ya back to me one day." Tia Dalma sauntered to the pirate, her skirts raised and her hips swaying seductively, each step as graceful and calculating as a hunting panther.
However, she was quick to pause as she caught sight of Peggy's face behind Jack.
"Mam." Peggy felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment as the woman slowly approached her. Her smile softened as she reached to touch her face.
"Aye, me poor girl. Ya came to me just in time," she murmured, tutting as she looked down at Peggy's chest.
Peggy shifted uncomfortably, feeling painfully exposed under that hypnotic stare. She wondered how much of the damage those trained eyes could see.
She was glad when Will chose that moment to cautiously step into the shack behind her, distracting Tia Dalma from her fussing.
When she saw Will's handsome face, her eyes widened with curiosity.
"You…" She murmured, gently pushing Peggy out of the way. "You have a touch of destiny about you, William Turner."
Peggy's brow furrowed.
How did Tia Dalma know Will's name? He had never strayed near her territory in all his life.
Then Peggy quickly looked at the water bowl on the table and shook herself.
Of course, she should have known…how else would the woman have been so calm at their arrival?
"You know me?" Will frowned, standing his ground warily as the strange voodoo priestess sidled up to him with that smooth sway, her brown eyes locking with his and holding him still like a statue.
"You want ta know me?" she purred, her face coming dangerously close to Will's.
Peggy turned her face away, quietly touching her chest as a painful sting shot through it like an arrow. By the sea gods, why did it hurt so much? She knew Tia Dalma was flirtatious and charming. The woman was as dangerous and tempting as the ocean itself. But Peggy's heart was so fragile right now that any knock, big or small, felt ten times worse than it should.
She was so distracted she did not notice Will quickly snap out of his stupor, his hand flying up to his chest and sucking in a sharp breath, much to the surprise of Jack and Gibbs, who had silently made his way into the shack without being noticed.
Tia Dalma tilted her head curiously, eying Will's hand on his chest. Her lips curled into a strange smile as she reached up with a careful finger to trace the spot the blacksmith had touched.
However, before she could make contact, Jack's hand shot out between them as he blurted out:
"There'll be no knowing here! We've come for help, and we're not leaving without it." He quickly put an arm around Tia Dalma's shoulders to steer her away from Will. "I thought I knew you, " he added with a pout.
"Not so well as I had hoped." Tia Dalma snorted teasingly, swatting the pirate's ringed hand from her.
Will sucked in a deep breath to steady himself as he watched Peggy gingerly settle into a seat offered to her by Tia Dalma, the voodoo lady's face tensing worriedly as she looked her up and down.
Will could not blame the woman for her concern. Despite trying to keep a stiff upper lip, Peggy was not looking good. Her face was pale, and the slight gauntness he had noticed that morning seemed much starker in the yellow candlelight.
He remembered the strange pang of pain he had just felt in his chest and felt sick. So, all those stings he was feeling were coming from Peggy? Was this what she had been going through all this time? How bad had the other attacks been that he had not seen?
No wonder her body was giving up on her. No mortal form, selkie or otherwise, was made to endure such agony for so long.
She was so out of sorts that she did not brush Jack off when he passed behind her. Instead, he gave her a small, reassuring pat on the shoulder as Tia Dalma turned to greet her other guests.
"Ahh. Another child of da ocean." Tia Dalma refreshed her seductive smile at Sloane as he crossed the threshold of her shack. "It has been too long since one of ya clan visited my 'umble abode."
To Will's surprise the selkie male looked nervous at being in the woman's presence.
"It is an honour to meet you, Madam." He whispered, bowing his head. It was not, Will realised, the respectful bob a gentleman might give a lady. There was almost a reverential deference in his tone…as if he were addressing a queen or a member of royalty. "On behalf of Grand Matriarch Margrat of the liath-chrios, I, Ronan Sloane, bid you the blessings of tide and wind sea sister."
"An' I bid ye, and ye clan de blessings of de tide an' de wind me, sea brother." Tia Dalma nodded graciously, her smile widening with delight as she gestured to him, Gibbs, Marty, Pintel and Ragetti to join the table, "Come."
"Come!" Jack repeated, eyes fixed on Tia Dalma as she swayed to the table to take a seat at the head of it.
Will turned to sit beside Peggy, only to be jostled out of the way by Sloane, who quickly took the spot.
The blacksmith snarled at the male selkie's shit-eating smirk in his direction, his stomach turning nastily as the man put a consoling arm around Peggy's shoulders.
However, before Will could retort, Tia Dalma's slender fingers gently stroked the back of his head. Then, they gripped his collar and guided him to the chair opposite Peggy at the table.
Will wanted to protest as the woman pressed him smoothly but firmly into his seat, fixing him with a stern, cold look of warning as she purred:
"Now…What service can I provide?" She quickly looked up at Jack and barked sharply:
"Ye know I demand payment!"
"I brought payment!" Jack then whistled at Pintel who scurried forward with a large birdcage in which Jack the monkey snarled and skittered anxiously around in as Jack raised his loaded pistol and aimed it between the bars. "Look!"
BANG!
"An undead monkey. Top that!"
Peggy and Will both flinched as Jack the monkey screeched in surprise. His teeth bared threateningly at Jack, who sneered viciously at the primate as he set its cage on the table before Tia Dalma.
The Voodoo woman tilted her head as she examined the cage for a moment. Then, with a careful hand, she unlatched the lock and opened the little door.
As quick as Jack's gunshot, the creature was off in a flash, darting for an open doorway that seemed to lead into another room. Peggy frowned as she caught sight of a pair of black-booted feet and wondered who else the voodoo priestess had in her possession. They hardly seemed to move as the monkey hopped onto them and out of sight.
"Ghaa! Don't!" Gibbs cried in dismay as Pintel and Ragetti sighed and shook their heads. "Ye've no idea how long it took us to catch that."
"The payment is fair." Tia Dalma nodded with satisfaction, ignoring the crewmen's annoyance.
Jack nudged Will's shoulder, and the blacksmith quickly detached from Peggy to pull a piece of cloth from his belt.
"We're looking for this, " he said, flattening the cloth on the table. And what it goes to."
Peggy recoiled as the picture of an ancient key drawn in dark charcoal was revealed to her eye.
She could not believe what she was seeing.
Oh gods. Oh gods…was this Jack's master plan? She glanced at Tia Dalma. The voodoo witch, too, was staring at the key with undisguised surprise and even a little bit of anger.
Her tone was much sharper as she turned an imperious eye on Jack.
"De compass ya bartered from me; it cannot lead ya to dis?"
"Maybe…" Jack muttered awkwardly, avoiding everyone's gaze. "Why?"
Tia Dalma's face split into a smirk as she sat at the head of the table where a much fancier chair with a high back and comfortable yet lightly torn upholstery was set for her.
"Ah-ha-ha! I hear ya! Jack Sparrow does not know what he wants. Or…do ya know, but are loathe to claim it as ya own?" she pinned Jack with her stare, but the pirate was doing his best to avoid it by blowing on the hair of a voodoo doll suspended from the ceiling.
Tia Dalma sighed at the man's antics and sank back in her chair to address the room.
"Ya key go to a chest. An' it is what lay inside de chest you seek, don't it?"
"What is inside?" Gibbs asked eagerly.
"Gold? Jewels?" Pintel piped in, trembling excitedly, "Unclaimed properties of a valuable nature."
"Nothing" – gulp – "Nothing bad, I hope?" Ragetti swallowed thickly as he almost knocked his head against a hanging jar full of eyeballs preserved in a strange, thick liquid.
Tia Dalma's smile widened.
"Ya know of Davy Jones." She said in a low voice, and all the sailors in the room nodded, leaning in to listen intently as she continued, "A man of de sea. A great sailor. Until he run afoul of that which vex all men."
"What vexes all men?" Will tried prompting only to find the sea witch's hand slide smoothly over his own as she purred:
"What indeed?"
"The Sea!" Gibbs cried out.
"Sums." Pintel put forward with a solid nod.
"The dichotomy of Good and Evil!" Ragetti piped in, and everyone turned to raise their eyebrows at him in surprise.
Since when did someone like him know the meaning of the word 'dichotomy'?
Yet a soft song filled the air even as Sloane rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to speak.
Will quickly pulled his hand out of Tia Dalma's as he looked at Peggy. Her eyes were downcast, fixed on two items that hung from Tia Dalma's neck. They were, Will noticed, a silver crab-shaped locket and a small conch shell on a chain. Will wondered what they could mean, for Peggy was staring at them most intensely as she hummed under her breath.
A soft, sad, sorrowful song…one Will had heard a few times before.
"A woman," Jack grunted, interrupting the song, and Peggy fell silent.
"A woman." Tia Dalma's smile twisted slightly as she glanced at Will's confused face. "He fell in love."
"No-no-no-no, I heard it was the sea he fell in love with!" Gibbs corrected, but Sloane shook his head.
"I've heard otherwise. A woman was his downfall. All the old songs I was taught say so."
"Well, I was told-"
"Same story, different versions, and all are true!" Tia Dalma snapped over both men, who shut their mouths and ducked their heads subserviently as she leaned back in her chair and gestured to her sultry form. "It was a woman. As changing, harsh, and untamable as de sea. Him never stop loving her." She paused as her gaze flickered to Will.
Jack followed her gaze, and his lip curled in disgust as he realised the blacksmith was staring, not at Tia Dalma, but at Peggy. The whelp's expression was difficult to read. He seemed torn between guilt and grief, though anger was swift to pass over his features as he caught sight of Sloane's arm still slung around Peggy's shoulder. The selkie was not holding her close in an embrace. It was merely a bracing arm a friend would use to offer comfort. Yet even such a touch was enough to have the blacksmith bristling and broiling like a kicked rattlesnake.
Peggy, however, was not looking at Will. Indeed, she was not looking at anyone else. Her eyes were focused on her bandaged right wrist, which she was holding tight in her other hand.
"But de pain it cause 'im was too much to live with. But not enough ta cause him ta die." Tia Dalma tilted her head with intrigue, her soft and curious tone drawing Will's attention back to her face.
"What…exactly did he put into the chest?" Will asked cautiously, his eyes flickering between Tia Dalma and Peggy's wrists as he did his best to keep from looking at Sloane's arm around her.
"Him heart." Tia Dalma said softly.
"Literally or figuratively?" Ragetti gulped only to get swatted and shushed by Pintel as he hissed:
"He couldn't literally put his heart in a chest?" He turned in horror to Tia Dalma with his wooden-eyed friend and Gibbs. "Could he?"
"In rage and sorrow, he did swear, To curse her name, her love laid bare, He carved his heart from out his chest, And hid it where their vows did rest."
The tune was soft, yet Will felt a chill sweep through him as it passed into his ears. In all the years he had heard Peggy sing, her voice had always been warm and sweet, but now…now there was no warmth, nothing but hollow emptiness. Her blue-grey eyes, too, seemed dead as they stared at the bowl of water before her, seeing but unseeing.
Will was not the only one unnerved. The crew, including Jack, looked as shaken as if someone had walked over their graves.
The only one unmoved was Tia Dalma, who agreed with the selkie's song.
"Aye, ya be right me gal. 'twas not worth feelin' what small, fleetin' joy life brings. An' so him carve out him heart," the sea witch savagely mimed a carving action against her breast much to the alarm of her guests "Lock it in a chest, and hide de chest from de world. De key," She glanced at the drawing of the key still lying on the table, "he keep with him at all times."
There was a pause as Will turned to see Jack's reaction to the news. Despite the astounding nature of all that had just been revealed, he seemed calm as a cucumber.
"You knew this?" Will hissed as he leapt to his feet. Of course, the pirate knew. Why else had he come here if not to confirm his suspicions?
"I did not." Jack sniffed haughtily, hardly phased by Will's ire. "I didn't know where the key was, but now we do. So now all that's left is to climb aboard the Flying Dutchman, grab the key, you shove off back to Port Royal where you belong and save your bonnie lass. Hey!"
The pirate quickly turned to shuffle out the door before Will could snarl at him, but Tia Dalma's voice called coldly across the room. She rose to her feet, her hand outstretched.
"Let me see ya hand!"
The crew of the Black Pearl all stiffened to attention at the commanding tone of the woman's voice. There was no room for argument, no chance to appeal.
Even Jack, who liked to be the one in charge, found his body turning back to the voodoo priestess of its own accord, though he looked very anxious to face her.
He tried offering his left hand, but the woman's stare only hardened like ice.
"Jack," Peggy muttered warningly as she felt the invisible magic wall around Tia Dalma tense. It was like being near a cobra getting agitated.
With great reluctance but no snarky words, Jack carefully handed his right hand to Tia Dalma, who swiftly but gently undid the red and white cloth he had bandaged around his palm.
Peggy smelt the mark before she saw it. The Devil's work always had that acrid, fishy scent. Even the mark on her wrist smelled similar.
The sight was just as bad as the smell.
A bubonic-like lesion throbbed painfully over the skin of Jack's rugged palm, strange hairy tufts sprouting around the circumference of the mark.
"By Poseidon!" Sloane hissed like an angry cat, his selkie fangs extending on instinct as he leapt out of his seat and backed away from the table.
Gibbs likewise also recoiled just as sharply, eyes wide with horror.
"The Black Spot!" he gasped, dusting himself off hurriedly, spinning around on his feet for one rotation and spitting on the floor by Will's feet, much to the Blacksmith's disgust.
Will grimaced as Marty, Pintel, and Ragetti copied Gibbs's actions, his gaze flickering to Peggy.
To his surprise, she stayed seated where she was. Even more astonishing was that, even though she looked repulsed by the mark, she did not seem surprised.
Had Jack told her beforehand? The two of them confided a lot in one another; after all, he mused bitterly. Yet when Will turned to glower at Jack, he saw that the Pirate seemed just as surprised as he was by Peggy's odd reaction.
"My eyesight's as good as ever, just so ya know!" Jack called to the room at large as Tia Dalma sighed heavily at the mark, tilting his head and examining with all the professional calm of a practised physician.
"Hmm…" she pursed her lips, letting Jack's hand go and lifting her skirts, "I have just da thing. Now, where did I put it?" She hummed as she ducked behind the curtain at the back of her shop.
There was the clinking of glass and the muffled thuds of crates being moved and feet on the floor.
Jack quickly took advantage of the pause to re-wrap his hand, his fingers deftly swiping one of the jewelled trinkets Tia Dalma had left on the table before her seat.
Peggy glared at the Pirate, who merely gave her a small wink and made a shushing action.
"Fine-fine. On your head be it." Peggy rolled her eyes, shaking her head at Jack's antics, drawing Will's attention.
She gulped and turned away as the blacksmith opened his mouth to say something to her, leaning across the table.
"Peg…are you-"
The thud of footsteps silenced him as Tia Dalma returned to the room, something large and made of glass in her arms.
"Davy Jones cannot make Port. Cannot step on land but once every ten years." She looked at Jack, staring him unblinkingly in the eye. "Land is where you are safe, Jack Sparrow. So ye shall carry land with ye."
Tia Dalma held out her hands, revealing a large glass jar filled with-
"Dirt?" Jack mumbled as he took the jar and weighed it in his hands. "This is…a jar of dirt."
"Yes?" Tia Dalma nodded.
"Is the…Jar of Dirt going to help?" Jack asked cautiously, gulping as Tia Dalma's eyes narrowed dangerously.
"If ye don't want it, give it back" She held her hands again.
"No!" Jack swiftly held the jar to his chest like a mother with a newborn child.
"Then it helps." Tia Dalma smirked, though the threat in her eyes did not leave.
It makes sense, I guess. Peggy gulped as she exchanged looks with the others. The Devil is bound by the rules he has agreed to. He cannot break his word to anyone, mortal or immortal.
She met Will's eye and gulped as she realised he was eyeing her suspiciously, the curious expression not too dissimilar from when he had first discovered her pirate roots.
She supposed it must have looked odd, her lack of surprise at the Black Spot. Peggy did not know Jack had the mark until he revealed it, but it did not surprise her that it had come to this. She knew all about Jack's deal with the Devil. She had figured he had been looking for a way to wheedle out of it. He was never good at sticking to his word if the result did not benefit him, and Barbossa's mutiny had cut down the thirteen years he should have had with the Pearl to a mere sliver.
No wonder he was so eager to beach the Pearl. If the Devil has marked him for his pet to hunt,, he has no choice but to stay far on land.
Of course, Jack could argue that since he had not been Captain for ten years, but Peggy doubted the Devil would care. The Black Pearl had been sailing the waters for thirteen years. Their deal never stated that Jack had to be the captain who sailed her, only that he could sail her. Whether he was captain or crew had nothing to do with the timeline.
And just as he finds his beloved Pearl again, so too does he see me…just in time for me to deliver him back to the Devil as I promised.
"It seems…" Peggy sucked in a deep shuddering breath as she forced herself to meet Tia Dalma's eyes. "We need to find the Flying Dutchman."
Tia Dalma smiled her strange, eerie smile as she retook her seat, reaching into a pouch tied onto a belt around her waist.
Something rattled in the voodoo priestess's hands as she shook them together, shutting her eyes and murmuring softly under her breath.
"A touch.." All eyes turned to watch her as she suddenly sucked in a sharp breath and opened her eyes. "of Destiny!"
The Devil of the Deep looked up from the grand pipe organ.
He had been sitting and playing for hours, as was his custom after the dinner rush. He did not know why he or his damned crew even bothered to eat human food any more—habit of the old flesh, he supposed.
More for comfort and pleasure than for sustenance. Besides, a warm meal in the belly kept crew members from griping and complaining.
And yet, all through that final meal for the day, the Devil could not shake off that feeling.
It was almost like expectancy…if one could use that word.
A sort of eager excitement that was palpable in the air.
He was not quite sure if it came from the ship itself or if it was feeding off his own emotions. A ship was a reflection of its captain, and the Flying Dutchman was no exception to the rule.
In a few short days, he would collect on two deals.
Two deals long in the making. The Devil sneered victoriously to himself as he sucked in a deep drag from the smoking wooden pipe entwined in his tentacles.
Long had he waited for these deals to come to completion. There was little pleasure he could deride from his duties, so the Devil took what little suffering he could squeeze from whatever poor, unfortunate souls he could.
And the two wretches he had bound to his word truly were pathetic.
A pirate lord, desperate to hold onto his freedom while the rest of the world came to heel under the shackles of civilisation. And a young selkie, desperate to live despite a world that wanted her dead.
Well, at least she would be somewhat safe in his keeping. The Devil smirked to himself as he eyed a silver-lined chest nearby. He hoped she would not be so foolish to run from him a second time. Though he enjoyed watching the young sea child squirm, he was loathed to put an end to her. To do so would mean putting an end to the last of the selkies of the Caribbean. And once one magical species in an area was eradicated, the other magical creatures would follow swiftly. Mermaids, Sirens, kelpies, even the Devil's precious Kraken. And if all magic were lost from the Caribbean, the other oceans would follow in their footsteps and fall.
It was a dangerous and precarious position for them all. And though he hated his curse, the Devil was bound to his oaths. But soon, that would be remedied.
That little Pirate Lord would be under his thumb, and the Selkie would be safely tucked away in the ship, out of sight and out of mind from the rest of the foolish mortals being put to proper work. Who knows, with the type of work the Devil and his crew did, she may even come to enjoy her time here…especially since it could offer her all the opportunity to get vengeance on those that took away all from her.
The Devil sighed and smiled up to the ceiling of his quarters.
Yes…not long now, and all would be right with the world again.
Will bit his lip as he tried to keep his breathing quiet.
It was nearly midnight. Tia Dalma had bid him, Jack, and the rest of the Black Pearl crew stay the night at her shack rather than risk travelling down the dangerous river by night. Now, most of the crew, Cotton included, had been ushered into an upper level of the shack hidden in the large tree it had been constructed around and fed a rustic dinner of eel stew served by their gracious hostess.
The stew was surprisingly good, although it had a less-than-appealing appearance. The blankets and hammocks Tia Dalma had provided them for sleeping in the lone room were warm, dry, and soft.
But to Will, nothing would compare to the feel of the blankets back at Mister Brown's…especially not after Peggy had laundered them fresh.
Not for the first time, Will wished everything could return to how things were…when life was simple. When the only thing to worry about was keeping Mister Brown at bay and fulfilling all the orders in the forge…days when Peggy greeted him first thing in the morning with a smile or a fond roll of the eyes as she ruffled his head of bed hair…
He did not know what felt worse: his longing for those days or the guilt gnawing at him as he remembered his marriage vows to Elizabeth, vows he had spent ages working on alone in that cold apartment surrounded by relics of that warm past with Peggy.
A past he had thrown away for a future so uncertain and filled with pain, anger and regret.
He rubbed his chest as the now familiar ache throbbed through him.
It was getting worse and worse with each passing hour. Why was Peggy in so much pain? Was it one of the symptoms of the bond being broken? If so why was he feeling it so strongly?
He remembered Tia Dalma's story about Davy Jones. It seemed so fantastical and cruel to exist without a heart, yet now, Will could feel this pain; he could almost believe it was true.
He bit on his lip as he chanced a peek through a beaded curtain into the main shop area of the shack, his ears pricking as he heard Peggy gasp and grunt.
"Ugh! What the hell was that?!"
"A tonic, for ya strength." Tia Dalma clipped though her voice was laced with amusement as Peggy wretched and gagged behind her hand, doing her best to swallow down whatever she had been fed.
"It will also dull de pain for a day or two. Give ye the chance ta sleep proper…and maybe get rid of some of that poison in ye mind." Tia Dalma's shadow offered another mug to Peggy across the table. "Here. Wash it down wit dis. Dat potion helps but it will make ya feel a little low for a while, dis will pick ya up."
"Thanks." Peggy accepted the mug and took a grateful sip. "Gah! That's better."
"Ya were lucky ya came when ya did," The older woman tutted in an almost motherly tone at the young selkie "Ya did not have much time left."
"How much time did I have?" Peggy mumbled as she drained the last of her mug.
"Two weeks."
Will felt his blood chill in his veins.
Two weeks?
Two weeks…that was all she had…but that was…no…NO!
"And now?" Peggy frowned, and it took Will all his power not to leap into the room and repeat the question himself.
"Four weeks. But only if ya careful and don't damage ya-self anymore." Tia Dalma answered bluntly, shaking her head with a tired groan as she slumped back in her chair, the back now facing Will. "Aye-yai-yai! I never seen a bond so damaged in all me years. How ya still standin' is beyond me. Den again, ye Caribbean Selkies always were de tough ones."
"You should have told me, y'know," Peggy grumbled, rubbing her chest. "About the whole selkie bond thing. The last time I was here as a nibbling, you should have told me I could die if I fell in love with such an arse."
"Aye…I should have. Dat is my mistake and mine alone." Tia Dalma admitted bitterly, "I thought ye mama woulda' taught ye. Tis usually one of de first things a selkie learns, for a heart tis a precious thing to lose."
"Mother was too busy playing prisoner for Daddy-dearest." Peggy snorted, though her anger was no longer directed at the voodoo priestess. "She loved him. Look where it got her."
"It isn't de fallin' in love dat kills ye." Tia Dalma corrected the young selkie gently, "Tis the betrayal of de heart. A betrayal that cuts so deep it makes a wound where none can see but ye can feel constantly. Ya young man betrayed ye big time, didn't he?"
"He did."
"An' how did 'e do that?" Tia Dalma prompted, "Ya said ya knew he loved another for a long time. So what changed?"
Will waited with bated breath for Peggy's answer. Finally, he was so close to figuring out the root of all this pain and suffering. Once he knew that, he could figure out how to fix it.
He was so eager to listen to Peggy as she opened her mouth to speak that he held a hand over his mouth to muffle his breathing.
"I don't know…" Peggy exhaled heavily, her voice trembling as her eyes watered. "I honestly don't know. Like you said, I knew he had always loved Elizabeth for years. Yes, it did hurt, but honestly, I was so happy for him to have his shot at being with her if it could make him happy. But then…then he had the opportunity to tell her everything while they had a moment at Isla de Muerta, and he did not take it."
"But dat was not de moment de bond broke?"
"No…" Peggy sniffled, wiping her nose as she tried to hold herself together. "No, that happened after…at Port Royal…the day Jack was supposed to hang…"
Will felt his gut sink. He had an awful feeling he knew where this was going.
No…please no…
"I had just seen Jack for what I had thought would be my last time, and then Will found me and said all those sweet things to console me.-"
No…no-no-no…
"Told me I was precious to him. That he cared. HA! I should have known that was all bullshit!"
It was not bullshit! I meant every word!
"But then straight up afterwards, he just waltzed right up to Elizabeth and…and told her he loved her…right in front of everyone…in front of me!" Peggy sucked in a sharp breath, her fists now clenching tight on the table before her as they shook with rage. "WHY? Why did he have to do it then and there? Did he have to confess his undying love for that woman while I was watching one of my dearest friends about to be put to death?!"
Will felt his breath still in his chest as he listened with mounting horror to the words now spewing out of Peggy's mouth in an angry tumble.
"And he did that in front of everyone! In front of all our friends and neighbours, who had probably all guessed how I felt about him because, let's face it, I was shit at hiding it! And this was after lying to me and telling me I was dear to him? Why did he tell me all those stupid things? Was it just to butter me up? Was it so he could keep me on the hook? He was happy to whisper sweet bullshit to me in private as if it were some dirty, shameful secret. Then to add sea salt to the wound, he blasts it out loud for the whole world that he'd much rather be with the PERFECT Elizabeth Swann than the selkie pirate-housekeeping scum like me!" she grunted as she accidentally slammed her palm on the table harder than she intended. "If Elizabeth had not returned his feelings…I…I would have just been that stupid besotted idiot he settled for…a shitty consolation prize. That's all I am to him…in the end."
No. That's not…how could she think that? How could she think what I said was a lie? Will wanted to reach out and shake her. How could she say such awful things about herself? How could she believe such things? Had Jack put it in her head?
But no. Jack would never put her down. The pirate might tease and poke fun at his cabin girl for kicks sometimes, but she was one of the few people he truly respected and held in high regard; even Will could see that from a mile off. No, Jack, of all people, would never encourage such degrading self-talk when it came to Peggy.
"Look, I know I have no say in who Will chooses to love or be with. That's his choice." Peggy gulped down on a large lump in her throat, wiping at her nose before it could stream. "But come on, Elizabeth?! ELIZABETH?! That filthy cat was eager to dump poor James Norrington high and dry without any remorse the second he lost his usefulness to her. Oh, and let's not forget how she treated Will all those years. She practically ignored him in public while all those ruddy, snobby sycophants chased after her. She only became interested in him the second he played the hero for her. If Hector had not attacked Port Royal or taken her away, she would have been happy to let him rot in that smithy without a second thought. Oh, don't get me wrong, I think she was fond of him, and yet, every time I suggested we drop by the shop to pretend to buy something, she'd always make up some excuse not to see him. I thought she was just being shy. HA! SHY? Her? She always enjoyed being the centre of attention at every party she went to. I wouldn't be surprised if she still enjoyed men's flirtations even if she's engaged or wed. After all, being married will only amuse her for so long before she gets bored and people stop being awed by it."
Will stared at Peggy as she panted for breath. He had never heard her so agitated. Her eyes were wide, and her nostrils were flared. And the way she spoke of Elizabeth…she had always been so warm and respectful for her friend…Had she always felt this way, or was this all recently borne of jealousy and hurt feelings?
Will could understand her anger at him for choosing another woman after loving him for so long.
But the vitriol…the venom…who was this hateful creature he saw before him?
But even as he thought this, his stomach churned uncomfortably. Was all of this rant just an excuse to badmouth the woman she felt had stolen her man? Or had Peggy's friendship with Elizabeth soured for other reasons that she had never confided in him?
Will might have dismissed these awful claims had he not remembered that flirtatious nobleman from all those months ago…the pleasure Elizabeth had taken in receiving his attention despite being newly engaged. And poor Commodore Norrington…disgraced and humiliated.
Now that Will has dwelled on it, had Elizabeth properly apologised to the man for leaving him high and dry after using him to rescue them from Barbossa? Apart from expressing that she felt sorry for him, Will had not seen any attempt on her part to bury the hatchet with the man or offer some sort of consolation or compensation for his troubles…unless she had urged her father to handle that particular problem. The same way she got him to handle any challenging topic with Will whenever conflict arose...
"You know…I don't know why I always stood up for her." Peggy shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. "She was not much of a real friend to me, unlike Anna or the girls at Fort Charles. When I was accused of stealing from the Governor's mansion, she did not lift a finger to help prove my innocence. Because she was more afraid of her father scolding her for skipping her lessons to play hooky at the beach than she was for me losing my job and being publicly shamed and beaten with a switch in front of the rest of the staff by that cow of a housekeeper! Y'know, I still have the scar from that? That's how hard that bitch thrashed me! And Elizabeth just stood aside and let it happen! She did nothing! Like yes! I guess watching someone getting beat is horrible, but if you're someone's friend, you'd step in to stop it if you knew it was wrong, right? Well, she didn't. She was happy to let me take the literal flogging until I accidentally let slip we were at the beach together, which made her father wheedle the right information out of her. Hell, she even made me feel guilty for ratting her out and said that as a token of good faith, and even told me I should probably accept her father's offer to transfer to Fort Charles washhouse to move on from the embarrassment of it all. HA! Move on from the embarrassment! She was the only one embarrassed by me! So embarrassed that she ignored me just as much as she ignored Will after I left her service. And me, being the absolute idiot that I was, felt so grateful to her that I lied to Will and told him I had been searching for another job anyway with better pay because I, the idiot, did not want him to be angry at her because I, for some stupid reason, did not want him to get hurt by realising the sick truth about her. Every bloody time I give something for either of those two, I pay the effing price, and I'm sick of it! I'm so sick of it! I hate it! I hate them!"
She raised the mug to her lips and skulled the last drink to stem the wrathful flow of words streaming out her mouth.
She doesn't mean that. Will shook his head. She can't mean that, surely.
He shut his eyes, remembering that event Peggy had just described.
How could he forget that day in a hurry? One of the footmen from the Governor's house had carried Peggy home, battered, bruised and trembling all over. He did not believe for one second her feeble excuse that she had fallen down the stairs, but she had been in such a state that he did not pursue the matter for her own sake. That Elizabeth had not stepped in to stop such a miscarriage of justice and had even essentially helped kick Peggy out was appalling after all the fuss she had kicked up to beg for his and Jack's freedom that day.
But that was not the worst part. Six months ago, he might have angrily objected to such a story. Though he would never dismiss Peggy's pain so flippantly, he would not have believed her anger at Elizabeth was justified. He would have tried to convince Peggy that Elizabeth had done all she could to help her friend when she was scared of witnessing such a traumatic event.
But even now, the excuse sounded flimsy in his head.
Friend or not, Elizabeth should have come forward before Peggy had been wrongly beaten. Being grounded for sneaking out of a lesson was nowhere near as terrible as being thrashed with a cane to the point one could hardly walk. She may have tried to make amends by helping Peggy get another job. However, Will had seen how Elizabeth crept out of conflict firsthand by using her father's influence. Was offering another job kindness if it was done with the intent to sweep an embarrassing incident under the rug?
And what if, God forbid, the false accusations had followed Peggy to her new job? Will would not put it past that awful woman Missus Berry to have used such rumours to get Peggy framed for something petty and then fired and blacklisted and that would have been disasterous. At that point in their lives, he and Peggy had been so poor that they barely kept out of squalor. They needed a double income, and Will hardly had time to pursue another job because Mister Brown kept working him to the bone. With a black mark on Peggy's name and the shame of being accused of theft (from the Governor, no less), she would have never found work as anything but a prostitute.
Even as a child, Elizabeth could not be THAT oblivious and detached from how things worked for the lower class…could she?
He found himself leaning against a wall as he heard Peggy begin to talk again, her voice still trembling with barely suppressed anger.
"You want to know what really pisses me off. If Elizabeth's father had never agreed to let them marry, would she have given up everything to be with him? Would she, that spoiled brat who hardly lifted a finger to carry more than a cup of tea, ever degrade herself to do what I did in that house? Would she wash filthy linens day-in-day-out for military men that would sneer down at her or fondle her arse when they pass her by? Would she scrub floors on her hands and knees till her hands were raw for extra cash because a landlord wasted it all? Would she risk exposing her biggest secret to protect the man she loves? I doubt it. She's a coward! Always has been. Is happy to sacrifice other people to get what she wants but won't put herself on the line. She would never have the balls to deal with the shit I have!"
"One can never know what might have happened on de path untrodden. Maybe dis Elizabeth might rise to da challenges ya faced. Maybe not. Maybe her strengths lie in facin' struggles on her own path that ye cannot imagine. I know ya angry chil'. Ye have plenty a' reason to be. It been a long an' painful road ta get here. But be careful. Throwin' ya anger around don't make her any worse or ye any better. It only make you more angry." Tia Dalma cautioned her gently, a dark, slender-fingered hand reaching out to hold one of Peggy's consolingly. "Speakin' of anger, I ain't seein' any more damage to ya bond even tho' ye are angry like dis. De potion must be workin'. But be warned. Dis is only ta buy time. If ya heart keep fixatin' on de hurt like dis den ya will run outta time before ya have a chance ta change ya fate."
"Oh, please." Peggy snorted, rolling her eyes. "Change my fate? I'm a dead woman walking."
"Ya givin' up so fast?" Tia Dalma sounded irritated now. "Ya de last selkie in de Caribbean and ya givin' up de fight."
"Yes." Peggy sighed heavily, her head hanging in her hands "I'm tired, Tia Dalma." She mumbled wearily "I'm tired. All my life, I've fought and scrambled for a scrap of safety and happiness, and now I'm…I'm all out. I can't…every day hurts. Literally, it hurts to sit here and exist right now. Breathing, hurts, thinking hurts. I…I just want it to stop…and if giving up really is the only way out of it…" she paused and sucked in a deep breath. "I'm not ungrateful for the help you've given me. This potion at least can buy me some time to set things right before it all ends…at least I can die on my two feet with what little dignity I have left."
"Ya not dead yet." Tia Dalma pulled her hands away from her face. "And ya don' know what da future might bring."
"Don't." Peggy pulled away from the woman sharply, eyes still teary. "Don't try and give me hope. That's why I'm in this mess in the first place…because I hoped it would all be better…because I hoped one day, if I just worked hard and cared for him enough, he'd look at me and forget all about her and love me for me – God, I sound so stupid – Will won't return my feelings. That's fine. He's a free man, free to love whoever he wants. As angry as I am with him for what he did, I…I do want him to be happy. I truly do from the bottom of whatever remains of my heart. But…but I can't live on with this pain…I can't. It's too much. It's too much, and I just want it to stop. For once! Just make it stop!"
Peggy's head fell back into her hands as she began to sob quietly.
There was silence as Will backed away from the beaded curtain leaning against the wall. His heart was hammering, and his breaths were heavy.
The ache in his chest was still throbbing painfully, though he did not feel the strange tearing sensation that he had felt the night before. But that was little mercy.
He had thought that once he heard the truth from Peggy, his mind would be clear, and it would all be so easy to solve everything.
How foolish he had been.
His confession to Elizabeth was not the cause of her pain, but it was the final nail in the coffin.
He had thought he had been romantic and bold, declaring his love for Elizabeth in front of many people. He had thought he was keeping Peggy safe from being tarred by his brush by keeping their talk quiet and private. If people had seen him talking with her before he had disobeyed the law and freed Jack, they might have accused her of collaboration and sent her to the chopping block for her part in their escape. Of course, she had, in the end, aided and abetted in the crime anyway, but still, he had hoped to keep her out of his plans for her sake.
That Peggy would see his actions as some vulgar ploy to toy with her vulnerable emotions made him feel sick. His initial gut reaction was to deny all claims. After all, he had meant every word. She was precious to him; she was family. Why would she ever think he'd lie about something so personal? Yet the more he thought about it, her reaction made sense, especially now that he knew her true feelings for him.
What else was she to think when he so crudely confessed to Elizabeth barely five minutes after being so tender with her? And he had done that when someone else she loved was in mortal peril.
No wonder she felt so betrayed.
After everything they had been through with Barbossa, after fighting so avidly for him to live, revealing her true selkie nature despite a risk to her own life, and putting herself in front of Elizabeth to save her life, he thanked her with a slap in the face, hurting her with his selfish desire to play the hero.
Jack's right…I did toss her aside. His hand flew to his mouth as he felt his stomach roll unpleasantly.
He could not even hide behind the excuse of being oblivious to how she truly felt because, deep down, he knew she treated him differently than anyone else. The sick feeling in his stomach grew as he remembered how smug he had felt when Peggy had been so protective of him before Jack and Barbossa. How much he revelled in being treated specially by her. He might not have known she was in love with him, but he sensed he held a special place in her heart, and he had used that to get his way for so many years that he did not even pause to think about what it might have put her through. And now his selfishness was going to kill her.
She should have punched me harder. He wiped his watering eyes with his sleeve as he leaned back into the wall behind him. I'm such an idiot! All this time, I felt angry at her for leaving me behind, but what else was she to do? How could I expect her to watch me get married to someone she resents after all those times I took advantage of her? She loved me, and I used her.
He stiffened as he heard footsteps thudding toward him and braced himself for being shouted at for eavesdropping. Let Peggy hit him; he deserved it and more after everything that had happened.
Yet when he opened his eyes to face her, he only saw Tia Dalma standing before him, arms folded.
To his astonishment, the voodoo lady did not seem even remotely upset with him. She stared at him curiously, her head tilted, and gazed hard at the open collar of his shirt, right where his heart was.
He shivered as she silently reached out with a sharp-nailed finger, tracing over his flesh with such a feather-light touch that it almost felt like a cold sea breeze was brushing against him.
He shut his eyes and shivered, though not from embarrassment like he usually felt when a beautiful woman tried flirting with him.
For this was no attempt to seduce him.
Tia Dalma was staring at his heart so intensely he was sure she could see through the skin and straight to the beating organ itself. He was sure that if she put her mind to it, she could rip out his heart from his ribcage with her bare hands.
Then her touch was gone, and he felt his entire body relax like a bowstring that had just been released.
He panted for breath and slumped to the wall, eyes shutting as he became aware that the voodoo woman had not moved away from where she stood before him.
"Interesting…" She murmured thoughtfully, her gaze flicking up to meet his terrified eyes and sweat-covered brow. "Most cannot feel me sight upon dem. But ye can."
"Sight?" Will gasped, wiping his brow as he tried to straighten up.
"All who practice de craft learn to see more than just their eyes." Tia Dalma said softly, "Tis how I can see the state of dat one's heart. And yers."
"Mine?" Will quirked a disbelieving brow.
"Aye. I see ya, sittin' by the fireplace of ye home, wearin' her shawl 'round ya shoulders" she reached up to gently caress the side of his face "I see ya go to her room and tidy up and clean her bed, ye make sure nothin' is thrown away. I see all de times ya draw her face on de pages of ya book when ya should be writin' ya vows for another. How ya call out her name in ya sleep and see her face in the de reflection of each sword that ya make with ya two hands. How when she bathed in de sea only yesta'day ya wanted to go to her an' ki-"
"That's enough." Will backed away, hitting the wall behind him, unnerved. He had never met this woman before in his life. How could she know such things he had never told anyone else?
"You've made your point." He gulped down the shiver of nerves, trying to keep a calm façade though he knew she must have seen his fear.
To his relief, however, Tia Dalma did not comment on his frazzled state or gloat. Instead, she just gestured to the front of her shop.
"Come. Sit with me a while."
"What about Peggy?" Will frowned. Now that he thought about it, why wasn't she responding to this commotion? Usually, she'd be furious with him for intruding on such a private moment.
Tia Dalma did not answer but merely jerked her head beyond the beaded curtain. Will followed her gaze and saw Peggy slumped unmoving on the table, her head resting on her arms.
"What happened to her?" Will breathed, swiftly entering the room and approaching Peggy's prone form.
"A sleeping draught." Tia Dalma waved him off airily as she sauntered back to her spot at the table, reaching for a water pitcher. "Now she can get de rest she needs."
She put down a freshly poured mug of water and slid it across the table to Will.
"And we can talk."
Will looked up from where he had been checking Peggy's breathing, putting his ear to her mouth. So far, she seemed blissfully asleep. Indeed, she seemed most peaceful despite the distressing conversation she had just had.
Still, he was unsure how he felt about this voodoo woman's remedies. He knew Jack and Peggy trusted her, and the selkies, like Sloane, held her in high regard, but Will did not know this woman. She seemed to be hiding a lot despite acting so hospitable.
Then he remembered the chill of her finger, like a cold dead bone against his flesh. He quickly obeyed Tia Dalma's request and sat beside Peggy, his hand resting on her cheek as she rested her head on the table.
"Ya heard everything then?" Tia Dalma quirked a brow at him, and Will nodded. There was no point in hiding it.
"yes."
"Good. Den dis will be a lot easier." Tia Dalma took a sip from her cup and gestured to Will to follow suit. "What do ya know about selkie bonds?"
"Only what little I've heard recently." Will took a polite sip of his drink. "I would not have believed it if I didn't feel it for myself."
"Ah…I see…and do you feel it now." Tia Dalma's lips curled upward into a tiny smirk.
"Yes." Will rubbed his chest. "I've…I've felt it since Peggy returned to Port Royal. It was small at first; I thought I was getting catches in my chest, but now…now it's constant." He frowned at Tia Dalma's smug expression. "Tia Dalma…if I find a way to make amends with Peggy, will that stop her from…" he trailed off, unable to even utter the word.
To his dismay, the Voodoo woman shrugged.
"Dunno. Depends on de state of her at de time. If she is strong and holds on den maybe. But, if too far gone and too much damage den…no ye can't stop it. But," she put a finger up to stop Will before he could open his mouth. "There is another way, to buy her more time to make tings right."
"So there is still hope?" Will straightened up, his heart racing in his chest. "You can still save her?"
"No…but ye can."
"…how?" he gulped, hardly hoping to dream. "What must I do?"
Tia Dalma smiled.
"How far ya willin' to go fer her?"
"As far as I have to," Will answered quickly. "She would do the same for me." He added softly.
"Ye'd do anythin' to make it right?"
"Anything." Will nodded "it's no less than she deserves."
He knew he was probably jumping into this too recklessly and thoughtlessly, but he did not care.
If Peggy was too drained to cling to hope, he would hold on for them both.
"What must I do?" He asked again, his voice firmer in his conviction.
Tia Dalma's smile widened.
The whelp was too easy.
"Captain! Captain!"
The Devil smiled as the door to his quarters thudded open to admit a member of his crew, humanoid-shaped though his head was oddly stretched at the sides like a hammerhead shark.
The man's teeth were bared in excitement as he panted for breath, almost bent double from the exertion of his fat run.
"Captain," the 'man' puffed as he quickly straightened up to attention as his captain turned to face him. "We've spotted 'er. The Black Pearl. She's here."
"Finally." The Devil's grin widened as a deep roll of thunder and drums crashed overhead in time with his ship's swaying. "And the other vessel?"
"Scuppered till the last wooden board." Maccus sneered with derisive pleasure "poor lubbers didn't know what hit 'em"
"Good. Submerge the ship and send the crew to scavenge what's left of the survivors." The Devil barked, "Let Jack Sparrow see what happens to those who try to run from me!"
"An' the selkie sir?" Maccus tilted his head. "Who should we send to fetch her?"
"No one." The Devil snarled, "I will go an' fetch her meself when it's time. She's a slippery thing." his lips curled viciously "An' I want to watch her an' Sparrow squirm."
Notes:
Muahahaha! Nearly there, folks nearly there. I am so looking forward to finally bringing the "Devil" out from the shadows (I know we all know by now who he is, but let's be kind and let him have his "dramatic" reveal).
So yeah, Jack got his precious Jar of Dirt, and Will FINALLY knows how Peggy feels. (Though he had to eavesdrop to get it, naughty Will.) I know it seems like I'm bashing Elizabeth a lot in this chapter, but there is a point. Peggy needed to let off that last bit of steam, and I think Will needed to hear from her rather than other people how much damage he did.
We will visit Elizabeth in a few chapters (spoiler alert) to see her side of things, and I look forward to writing it. However, I want to get through this arc before getting to her. I was initially going to alternate between the "Jack, Will, and Peggy's quest" storyline and the"Elizabeth's side quest" storyline from chapter to chapter, but that felt too jarring, so I will get to her later when it feels right.
It was fun writing for Tia Dalma. She's a neutral party with her agenda, and I like that she's drawn to Will because of his future destiny in the series.
Anyway hope you enjoyed
Keep reading, reviewing, faving/following for more.
Cheers
FuzzyBeta
Chapter 23: A Devil of the Deep Blue Sea
Summary:
"Have you not met Will Turner? He's noble, heroic - terrific soprano. Worth at least four... maybe three and a half. And did I happen to mention... he's in love? With a girl. Due to be married. Betrothed. Dividing him from her and her from him would only be half as cruel as actually allowing them to be joined in holy matrimony, eh?"
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
BOOOM!
Peggy shivered as she watched the rain fall through the window of her nook.
It had been four days since they had left Tia Dalma's shack. Four days since, she had drank that mysterious tonic.
As Tia Dalma had said, it had helped numb the pain in her chest for a day and a half. Even now, as it throbbed, it felt somewhat manageable, though Peggy did not know if that was because she had gotten used to it or she was too busy trying to ignore the pain in her right wrist.
The Devil's mark was now darker than ever before; the black ink in her veins spread so far around her wrist that it was creeping onto her palm.
She was glad their meagre crew was so busy above deck because she could not bear to explain everything with all the other drama in her life.
Jack had been cautious with her, not letting her do more than her assigned tasks and cutting her slack in some of her chores. To her surprise, none of the crew seemed to mind. They had all been very kind and gentle towards her in the last few days, letting her rest when her chest or wrist got sore or sending her to do less manually taxing jobs like taking inventory or helping in the kitchen. Even sharp-tongued and gruff Marty had brought her food up to her nook the night the pain in her chest had returned.
Peggy wondered if Jack had told them about her condition…or had those who had come to Tia Dalma's heard her talking that night. Whatever the case, it did not matter.
It would all be over soon. If she were lucky, she would not have to explain anything. She would be long gone before she could see Jack's hurt. Or the Devil would reveal everything without her having to open her mouth. He was a sadistic, hateful creature. He'd love to rub her betrayal in Jack's face.
Jack…Would he understand her actions? Or would he condemn her to the damned pits of hell?
It was hard to tell with a man like him.
Was there any point in telling him the truth? As fond as she was of Jack, she knew there were limits to one's forgiveness. Jack's betrayal at the hands of Barbossa had done much to break his trust in people, even her.
Peggy sighed raggedly into the heavens, unsure whether to curse the One God she had been forced to pretend to worship or pray to the old Ocean Gods she believed in for kindness.
Despite the heavy storm around her and the weight of her thoughts, Peggy felt strangely calm inside as the words of the old shanty drifted out of her mouth.
"Some men have died and some are alive
And others sail on the sea
With the keys to the cage
And the devil to pay
We lay to Fiddler's Green!"
This was it. This was the day.
The day everything would come crashing down, and the truth would all be out in the open.
"Yo, Ho haul together, hoist the colours high
Heave ho, thieves and beggars, never shall we die"
It was an oddly soothing thought, she realised, knowing that the worst of the worst times in her life was finally coming to fruition. After all, if today was the worst, the days after it could only improve, right?
"The bell has been raised from its watery grave
Do you hear its sepulchral tone?
A Call to all, pay heed to the squall
And turn your sail towards home!"
It would all be over soon. Jack would have his key and could barter with the Devil. The Crew of the Pearl would be safe. Will could get the compass, buy Elizabeth's freedom, and sail into the sunset with her. Sloane would return to her father or wherever he came from and pass on the sad tale of the last selkie of the Caribbean.
And Peggy…she would repay her debt to the Devil and serve her sentence as promised, locked away in the bowels of a cursed ship while the rest of the world passed her by. Her body would not die on that ship, but her mind would quickly shatter once the remnants of her bond with Will had finally faded and frayed with time.
By the time her sentence was over, death would be a kindness…if the Devil did not put her out of her misery himself.
"Yo, Ho haul together, hoist the colours high
Heave ho, thieves and beggars, never shall we die"
The last word had barely left her lips when the wood of the door behind her creaked open.
Peggy looked up quickly to see Will standing in the doorway to her nook. He was soaked from the rain outside, his brown hair plastered to his wet and grim face.
He had been very pensive since their visit to Tia Dalma's. Peggy had never known him to be so broody in all their years together. He hardly spoke much to anyone except Jack and Gibbs, with whom he was conspiring to steal that key.
Peggy had not bothered to listen in on their plans. Usually, she would have been annoyed to be kept out of such essential dealings. But what did it matter? She'd be back in the Devil's clutches soon enough. Even if she could get her hands on that key, she doubted the Devil would let her go quickly. It would do nothing to halt her inevitable doom.
Speaking of doom…She watched as Will timidly fidgeted on the threshold of her space.
Not only had he been brooding recently, but he had also been cautious around her. No longer was he desperately trying to chase her for answers. He no longer slept by her side, though she could sometimes swear she heard someone enter her nook at night. Then again, Jack sometimes checked in on her on nights he could not sleep so she could not be sure who was watching over her.
However, from what she could tell, Will kept his distance, watching over her from afar, his face a mask of guilt and sadness. If he was ever close to her, he treated her gently, doing his best to keep his fussing to a minimum, though she could tell it was a massive effort on his part. He was a natural worry wart, and she could see the torment in his eyes whenever she stumbled by accident or felt any pain.
She did not know if Jack had gotten through to him or if Tia Dalma had told him about her condition. Either way, it was a relief not to be hounded for answers for once. Distance kept the pain in her chest manageable.
Today was the first time in days that he had approached her in private like this. He looked very nervous, his eyes pointed down to his toes, as he tried his best to steel himself to talk to her.
"Peg?" He gulped. "Can I come in?"
Peggy felt her heart throb as a memory of him flitted across her mind. It was her thirteenth birthday, and Will was fifteen. She had lashed out at him for trying to hover around her after she had woken up that morning from a nightmare. She could not even remember what the dream was about. All she remembered was the sheepish apology he had mumbled while handing over her birthday present, a book he had purchased from scrimping and saving whatever he could salvage of his earnings. Instead of shouting back at her, he hugged her until she had lost steam and apologised for her loss of temper.
He had been such a sweet and innocent boy back then.
And she had been such a rotten, short-fused brat. Hell, a few days ago, she had even punched him in the face!
No wonder he'd want to be with Elizabeth over me. She grimaced sadly. She might have her shortcomings, but who wants a terror like me who would hit and yell at him like that?
"Come in," she sighed, nodding for him to enter her nook.
"The plan is going ahead tonight, " he murmured as he cautiously stepped over the threshold. We've spotted the place Tia Dalma showed us. I'll be going across to investigate soon."
"Alone?" Peggy peeked up at him in surprise, cursing herself at the concern in her voice. Damn, even now, she could not stop worrying about him.
"I'm just scouting ahead. Jack told Gibbs and Marty to prep the canons just in case." Will bit his lip as he took another courageous step forward. "I…I just…I wanted to see you before I left."
For an awful moment, Peggy wanted to snap at him, 'Now you've seen me, so now you can leave,' but she held her tongue. For all she knew, this could be the last time she ever saw him again.
"Peg…" Will murmured, reaching out to take her hands in his as carefully as if he were handling delicate glass. "I know things have been rough between us lately. And…I know you need space and probably don't want to ever look at my face again after everything that has happened." he sucked in a deep breath as he saw her eyes widen in astonishment. "I just…if something happens to me today, I just want you to know I am so sorry. When I proclaimed my love to Elizabeth, I thought I was being romantic and bold. I did not pause to think if my actions would affect you or others that day…That you would be so hurt by what I did…" he gulped down on the lump in his throat as he caught sight of the tears welling up in her eyes. "I should have warned you of what I had planned so you would not have been blindsided like that."
"It would have helped. But what does it matter now? It's done. We can't change it. It doesn't matter anymore," Peggy muttered through pursed lips as she willed herself not to blubber and melt into his arms like she usually did whenever they fought and apologised to one another.
"Please don't say that," Will muttered stubbornly, gripping her hands tightly in his "We have been through so much together. How often have you put your life on the line for me and my happiness? And when you needed me the most, I was not there for you like I should have been. I'm sorry. I have…I have no excuse for what I did other than I was selfish and stupid. So please, don't say it doesn't matter because it does. It matters so much to me because you matter so much to me." His hands reached up to cup her cheeks, smoothing his thumb over one tear as it fell down her cheek. "I know you probably don't believe me, but I meant what I said when you were dear to me. I meant every single word. I wasn't just telling you all that because I wanted to keep you on the hook. I did not know how my rescuing Jack was going to go. I did not know if I would come out of it alive-"
"You were tying up loose ends," Peggy mumbled, wiping at her nose before it could stream. "I know. I figured. I've been doing a lot of that myself recently."
There, she had said it. From the stricken expression on Will's face, she could tell he had already heard the truth, though it pained him to listen to her speak so bluntly about it.
"I will find that key," Will murmured fiercely, leaning in so his forehead rested against hers. "I will find it tonight, and when I do, I'll find a way to help save you-"
"Will. You can't stop this." Peggy whispered, tears now freely streaming down her cheeks. "It's too late-"
"No, Peggy. It's not too late." he cut across her firmly. "I know we can find a way to stop it. Tia Dalma gave you that potion to buy you some time. If I can get this key back to Jack as quick as I can tonight, then we can-"
"Will stop-" She tried to pull away, but he quickly wrapped his arms around her, one hand buried in her hair while the other wrapped tight around her waist, keeping her tight to his chest as he buried his nose into the crown of her head.
"I will not watch you die." He mumbled, and Peggy tensed as she felt the bubbling of grief well up in her chest at the feel of the hands that held her. They were trembling badly. Those capable, steady, calloused hands that were so careful when handling delicate gold filigree or iron now shook like leaves rattled by a cold wind. "There are many things I can do, Peggy, but do not ask me to watch you die."
"Then don't watch."
She pushed back against him, forcing him back, her eyes pinned down to the floor, unable to look at him lest her resolve crumbled.
"If you don't want to see me dead, then it's best you leave and never come back." Peggy spat out, but her trembling voice gave her away.
"Peg-" Will tried to pull her face up, but she shook him off and turned her back on him.
"Will, I'm not much longer for this world. Whether you like it or not, that's what will happen, and you can't stop it."
She folded her arms around herself as a cold breeze blew through her nook. As hurtful as her words were, it was easier this way. Her end was coming; she should not give him false hope. A tiny bit of cruelty would spare him all that pain later.
"So you're just expecting me to give up because you have?"
Will's sharp question cut through her thoughts so coldly that she winced.
"No." She mumbled, "I'm asking you to respect my last wishes so I can pass over peacefully."
There was a silence as Will stared at the back of Peggy's curls.
Though her voice was so soft, Will felt her words echo in his skull as if she had shouted them into his ears.
He might have wept to hear them, but the stirrings of anger had bubbled in his gut. Anger at Jack for tearing him from Peggy before they had found a way to save her. Anger at Peggy for giving up on him so easily…but mostly anger at himself.
If he had been less selfish or oblivious, she might not have left him in the first place. They may have been able to resolve this without the heartache. They may have been together back home, safe and happy in that dingy little flat, going about their day, laughing and finding fun in their chores and…and…
Peggy pursed her lips to stop herself from sobbing as she felt his strong arms wrap around her from behind once more, trapping her back against his chest. She tried to stay stiff and immobile, but her shoulders melted back into his warmth.
Will was always warm, like a furnace. Even when wet and shivering like he was now, he was still warm, and his hands were strong yet so gentle when they held her.
She shut her eyes, willing herself not to let any more tears fall as he rested his cheek against her head.
"I know you're only pushing back like this because you're in pain." He whispered, "But I still care about you whatever is said and done. You're still my dearest friend…my Peggy. So, no matter how you try to push me away, or even if you give up on yourself, I'll always fight for you. If you need me to step in for you to be your second in this fight, then that's what I'll do. If you want me to carry you because the burden is too great, I'll carry you, however long the road may be. But don't ask me to give up on you like this because that's the one thing I can ever do."
"You already did," Peggy whispered, Will's arms stiffened around her.
"I know." He murmured, shutting his eyes and his voice breaking slightly despite his attempts to stay steady. "I know, and I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you if I must."
"You can't, Will." Peggy shook her head sadly. "Not if you want to be happy with Elizabeth."
"Peg-"
"Will, you love her." Peggy's voice shook as she said, "You've wanted to marry her since you were children. If you're chasing after a ghost like me, you can't have the future you've always wanted with her. You know that-"
"Says who? You?" Will shook his head. "You keep saying it's not possible even when you haven't tried-"
"Because I can see it won't work!" Peggy snapped, her face falling into her hands. "By God, William, you still don't get it! You can't always be the hero! You can't save everyone! Nor can you keep everyone happy all the time! Not every choice you make can have a happy ending where everyone goes home with no hurt feelings. You made your choice, and I made mine. And now we have to pay the price-"
"Not like this!" Will's grip was so tight it was almost crushing her. "Not at the cost of losing you!"
Peggy groaned and shook her head in exasperation. There was no talking him down when he was being stubborn like this.
She opened her mouth to speak, only to tense as she felt her right wrist tingle beneath its wrappings.
No, not tingle; it was prickling like twenty tiny needles were poking the skin.
A warning…an omen…
A chill spread through her. She was not sure how she knew it, but she knew.
He's coming.
"Peggy?" Will frowned, his arms slackening around her as he tried to peer over her shoulder to see her face, only to stiffen as he caught sight of her tearful glower.
He let her step away, his heart sinking as he saw the tiniest hint of a fang as she snarled:
"Answer me this one thing, William, truthfully." She sucked in a deep breath. "Are you apologising to me because you feel really sorry for what you did? Or are you just trying to play the hero again because you think I'm some damsel in distress?"
"What? No Peg-" Will tried reaching for her, his eyes wide with shock, but she still kept going.
"If I wasn't dying. If I were just a heartbroken, normal human woman…would you be going so far as to make amends? Or would you have just given one half-arse apology and pissed off back to Elizabeth whenever it was convenient?"
"Peg-"
"I used to think you were the most honourable, kindest person in the world." She murmured, "All my life, I've been surrounded by people who've hurt me and used me, but I always took comfort in the fact that you were the one person I could rely upon to never do that to me."
"Peggy, please, I do care-"
"In the end, you're scum just like the rest of them." She glared at him. "You're greedy, ungrateful, selfish, and so oblivious to anything outside your narrow, naive little fantasy world that you just hurt anything good that crosses your path. And you want to know the worst thing? The worst thing is that you lie to yourself and try to paint yourself as some noble, decent person."
"Peg-"
"Get out!" She spat, eyes flashing silver as she pointed to the door of her nook. "Get out! and leave me alone! When you get your precious key, don't come looking for me. If I die before you get back, then don't be there at my funeral because I don't want you there! You don't deserve it! I…I'm done being your charity case, your consolation prize. I'm done with you! So get out! Get out, get that key and go crawling back to your precious Elizabeth! I never want to see your face again!"
Tears fell from Will's eyes as his chest stung horribly. Yet this time, he knew it was not the pain of her heartbreak he was feeling. No, these words of hers cut his soul more profoundly than any knife. They carved invisible grooves into his chest so deep he would not be surprised to look down and see bleeding cuts all over his body.
He looked back at her eyes, desperate for her to see what she was doing to him. How deeply those words stung…how much he truly cared.
Yet as he looked, he felt his sorrow falter.
Despite her vicious, cutting words, Peggy was not angry. Whenever she got angry, her nostrils flared, and her cheeks burned the same colour as her hair. Her fists flexed and clenched into tight fists, ready to strike as she glared him down.
However, her face was pale and clammy, and her entire body was as tense as a board. Her lips were trembling, and she gripped her right wrist so tightly that she cut off circulation to the limb. Her eyes quickly darted away to the floor.
Will reached up to touch her face, his heart aching as she cringed away from his touch. Its feather-light touch stroked a stray curl of copper from her face, and his hand wrapped around the back of her head to pull her into another crushing hug. His grip tightened as he heard her suck in a sharp tearful breath against the open collar of his wet shirt.
"Push me away all you want." He whispered into the top of her head, inhaling her salty-spicy scent and enjoying the warmth of her body. "I am never giving up on you. We will get through this, and you will live a long and happy life. Whether I'm in it or not, that doesn't matter. You may not trust me anymore, but believe me when I say I will never stop trying to make things right with you because, believe it or not, I do care about you. I care about you so much it breaks my heart to see you so hurt like this."
"Get out!" She pushed against his chest, but Will could feel her resolve wavering through the warbling of her voice.
They had known and cared about one another for too long, and both knew how to play this game. He knew her resolution would crumble the longer she was in his arms, the same way she knew exactly what to say to gut him.
"I will. But Peggy, I am coming back to you no matter what you say."
"Don't-"
"I am. And you can't stop me-"
"You stupid oaf!" she sobbed into his chest as she pushed and shoved against it. "You stubborn, stupid, selfish-"
"You're right. I am selfish," Will admitted bitterly. "That's why I can't let you die like this. I already lost you once; I'm not making that same mistake again."
This time, Will let Peggy push him back, her eyes wide with that same fear as she clutched at her wrist.
"Go!" She spat, half in pain, half in anguish. "Just go!"
Her eyes shut as he bent down and pressed a small kiss to the top of her head.
"I'll be back soon."
With that, he let her go and walked out, closing the door behind him, leaving Peggy alone to slump on the edge of her bed in the dark.
Tears streamed down her face as she choked back a sob.
Will you idiot, you utter idiot! Why, of all times, do you pick now to be so stubborn?
She clutched at her arm as it burned horribly.
Just when she finally thought she had gotten through his thick skull to leave her be and leave her alone, he doubled down like a stubborn bull. Everything she said should have made him angry with her. Any time she used to aim low like that in an argument, it would make him mad, and they'd both be snarling and sniping at one another.
Instead, he had just hugged her. He hugged and kissed and treated her tenderly as if he...
No…no, that could not be it. She shook her head to herself to dispel that thought. How foolish that even now, a small piece of her dared to hope he harboured more than just friendship or guilt towards her.
Why? Why weren't any of her rejections working?
Why did all her attempts to keep him away make him coil tighter around her?
Did he care about her as much as he claimed? Or was that just the guilt talking?
I'm not even going to be here when he gets back. When he knows the truth, he's going to chase after me. She shook her head to herself.
Gods just when she thought she could slip away into obscurity and make peace with her situation, Will bloody Turner decided to throw a spanner in the works.
The ship in the water was broken in two, with many pieces of its middle scattered over the spattering rocks that broke through the surface of the stormy sea like the spires of a castle on a horizon line.
She was not a large ship—merely a tiny sloop, quick but not that powerful. Her paint job was faded and old. Years of sea travel had taken a toll on her weary, aged wooden hull. And now, here she lay in ruins, waiting for the final blow of death to hit her.
Waves crashed against the broken vessel, the impact of each collision breaking off even more fragments bit by bit into the swirling waters, where they either drifted away or were submerged and drowned, never to be seen again.
Yet despite the salt of the sea and the howling of wind blowing massive sheets of rain in every direction, the smell of rotting corpses permeated the air.
Will scowled as he looked upon the grim sight, wincing as he was drenched simultaneously by the splash of a wave hitting the port side of the Black Pearl and a sheet of rain lashing down on him from above.
Usually, he hated being so drenched, cold and shivering, but tonight, he hardly paid any heed to it.
How could he? All he could think about was Peggy's terrified face in her nook.
It was like that night after Labelle and Sloane had told them about the Selkie's bond. The fear, the way she trembled all over. Even her words, as harsh and as cutting as they were, were laced with the tremors of fear.
What was she so afraid of?
Why was she so keen on him staying away from her when she knew he could help her?
He only ever saw her behave in such a manner whenever she had a nightmare.
And not just any nightmare.
That Devil…again, he comes between us. Just who is he, and why does she fear him so much? Why does he have such a hold over her that she would fear him in death?
But those questions would have to wait.
He had to find that key—and, along with it, the key to buying Peggy more time to save her. If Tia Dalma was right, then everything hinged on tonight.
His fists clenched on the Pearl's railing as he looked back at the broken ship in the distant waters, illuminated by the flashes of lightning in the raging storm.
"Will, I'm not much longer for this world. Whether you like it or not, that's what will happen."
"Over my dead body," Will growled.
"Ey? What's that, mate?"
Will gulped down on the burning rage.
Beside him at the railing, Jack and Gibbs were both similarly waterlogged and grim in mood, though he doubted either of them would be able to match his inner turmoil tonight.
"That's the Flying Dutchman?" Will snapped, unimpressed by the sight of the broken ship. "She doesn't look like much."
"Neither do you." Jack rolled his eyes. "Do not underestimate her." The pirate nudged Gibbs hard in the stomach, forcing the older sailor to cough.
"Must 'ave run afoul of the reef." He piped in, quickly avoiding Will's eye.
"So what's ye plan then?" Jack asked the blacksmith, eyeing the shipwreck before them with pity, even by his standards, that looked like a very gnarly.
"I row over and search the ship until I find your bloody key," Will grunted as another wave splashed onto his cheek.
"And if there are crewmen?" Jack quirked a brow at the lad, wondering at his fierce determination.
"I cut down anyone in my path." Will snarled, the fire in his chest intensifying as it burned with renewed vigour. Finally, after all these days of wallowing and uncertainty, he would do something that would actually make a difference.
No more would there be words of apology, grovelling or pleading. He would prove to everyone that he was not just talking out of his arse. Jack would see it, Gibbs would see it…And Peggy…She would finally see he meant every word he said to her. She had to.
"I like it." Jack nodded approvingly to Gibbs "Simple. Easy to remember."
"Lad's going to get himself killed." Gibbs shook his head sadly as they watched the young man accept a lantern from Pintel before lowering himself down over the side of the ship to the longboat Ragetti had prepared for him.
"Yer chariot awaits ye, sire!" the scrawny pirate cackled with wicked glee as he pushed two wet oars into Will's hands.
"Oi!" Jack shouted from above, "If you do happen to get captured, just say Jack Sparrow sent you to settle his debt. Might save yer life!"
I'm not doing this for you, you scoundrel. Will scowled but nodded all the same to the pirate as Ragetti pushed him out into the water with a gleeful 'Bon Voyage!'
But Will did not care.
Whatever debt Jack had to deal with, that was his business. Will had more important things to worry about.
With a grunt, he rowed through the choppy waters, his eyes drifting up to the railing of the Pearl as his thoughts turned to a head of red copper curls and a tear stained face.
I'll be back soon, Peg. I'll save you, I promise.
BANG!
The lightning flashed so violently and loudly that the winds and waves began to rock the Black Pearl even more violently in the churning seas.
However, Peggy paid no heed to the change in weather.
How could she when she suddenly caught sight of a barnacle-encrusted boot and a pincer crab leg in her vision as she stared at the floor of her nook?
"So…here ye are then." a man's voice rumbled, piercing through the violent and loud storm outside.
Peggy stiffened as a dark shadow loomed over her, blocking the light from the crack in the door to her nook.
A shadow so large it seemed to fill the entire room with his malice.
A shadow with broad shoulders, a long cloak and a large bi-corn hat silhouetted in the flash of lightning as his pale eyes glimmered eerily in the dark.
She had not even heard him enter the room.
Then again, he always loved entering from the shadows.
"Ye came back ter me! I'm impressed. I'd have thought ye'd have pulled another runner." the Devil snarled down at her. "Then again, it wasn't like ye could run from me this time."
His eyes drifted down to the black mark on her arm with savage pride.
"In the end, it doesn't matter how far ye run from me, lass…ye can never escape death, can ye?"
Peggy hung her head, tears streaming down her face as she stared at her toes.
"No, sir."
"And can ye-" the Devil stopped quickly as the thudding of booted feet thundered out in the captain's cabin.
"Blake? Blake, are you in there-"
"No…" Peggy breathed, her eyes widening as she looked up at the Devil.
He straightened up to his full height, alert, and his tentacled hand flew to his belt, where a cutlass was sheathed in a crusty old leather scabbard.
Peggy's heart leapt to her throat as he pulled out an inch of the tarnished but sharp blade, his slimy index-finger tentacle slithering tight around the hilt as a pair of booted feet blocked some of the light at the bottom of the door to her nook.
"Blake!" Sloane's voice called through the door, worried. "I saw Turner come out of here. Are you alright?"
"I-I'm fine!" Peggy bleated, her hand flying to stop the Devil from drawing his weapon.
"No-please!" She whispered desperately, her eyes wide and pleading as she met the Devil's pale orbs in the dark "He's not a part of this. He doesn't need to-"
"Blake?" Sloane called, his voice confused. "Is someone in there with you?"
"N-No!" Peggy cried, "Everything's fine!"
"Look, Blake, we're all worried about you out there. Maybe you should come outside for a bit. I know that lug is out there, too, but Captain Jack would not let him try anything in front of the men. He would look after you-"
"Oh, would he now?" The Devil sniggered maliciously.
Peggy's face fell in dismay as she heard Sloane sniff from outside the door audibly.
Oh no…oh no-no-no!
"Blake, are you sure you're not alone?"
"Sloane, wait!" Peggy called, but it was too late.
The door opened wide to reveal Sloane, soaking wet and dripping onto the wooden floor. His fair mop of hair fell into his eyes as he shook his head and tried to sweep it back from his green eyes.
"Okay, Blake, what the hell is going-"
"NO!" Peggy called, but too late.
Sloane looked up just in time to see a massive crab claw hammer down on him from above, his yell of surprise drowned by the crashing of thunder overhead.
Peggy stared in horror as the male selkie fell to the ground with a hard thump at the Devil's feet.
"Silly pup. Should've known better than to meddle in affairs that don't concern him." The Devil spat down at his latest prey before sneering at Peggy's distraught face. "Was that him then? Was he yer precious lad ye brought into yer silly heart?"
"N-no? He-He's just my crewmate." Peggy shook her head and quickly knelt beside Sloane to check his head.
He was unconscious and had a small lump where he'd been struck, but he was otherwise unharmed—one small mercy.
"You shouldn't have-" She whispered. "He wasn't a part of any of this-"
"He's one of Sparrow's crew." The Devil sniffed, "That makes him a part of this…speakin' of Sparrow…"
Peggy fell silent, her heart hammering as the Devil towered over her, his face split into a malevolent smile and his pale eyes gleaming brightly in the dark as a slimy hand with a tentacle for an index finger extended towards her.
The gesture would have almost been gentlemanly had it not been for the sneer playing across that horrible face. "Come, lass. There is one more job I need ye to do for me."
"Yes sir…" Peggy nodded, shutting her eyes.
Jack…Will…please forgive me.
It did not take Will long to row his way over to the bow of the scuppered vessel. Most of it was splintered wood cast in a crude mockery of what a ship should have been, the bowspit jutting out of the water at nearly ninety degrees skyward.
Will was forced to jump out of his small rowboat and wade onto the ruined boards.
She was in worse shape than he had thought. The only reason she had not sunk was because beneath them were hard and sharp rocks.
Yet still, he could see the outlines of men dotted here and there amongst the rigging.
How could anyone have survived this? Will gaped in horror as he held his lantern aloft to guide his path as he waded from one side of the broken vessel to the other.
The stern of the ship was no better than the bow. Bodies draped limply over several overturned pieces of rigging, a couple of them impaled by pieces of timber and metal from the broken hull or simply laying on the ground lifeless.
The torn, soaked sails hung and swayed above his head like wet, tattered laundry. One sheet dripped icy rainwater down the back of his collar and shirt.
Will winced as the cold droplets slithered down his spine. He held his lantern a little closer to him for the warmth of the tiny flame protected within. Unbidden, his mind wandered back to Peggy, of how warm and dry she had been in his arms barely an hour ago…the smell of her fiery hair filling his nostrils with its salty, spicy scent, soothing him…the smell of home.
He shook himself off again. No…no, he shouldn't let himself get distracted. He just had to search this ship until he found that key, and in a few short hours, he'd be back on the Pearl with her again.
The thought was enough to make the flame in his chest flare up and push him forward over the broken deck towards a shadow moving by one of the ropes.
At first, Will thought it was one of the sails that had fallen and was flapping about in the howling wind.
Yet as he cautiously approached, he found, to his astonishment, it was a man.
A thin, pale, terrified man, his clothes reduced to rags in his sorry state as he kept pulling and pulling on a rope looped around a pully that should have hoisted a jib…only, there was no longer any sail attached to the rope.
"Hoisting the jib, Captain's orders." The man mumbled, hardly noticing Will as he carefully stepped forward, doing his best to keep his face calm and his footsteps slow.
"Sailor?" Will called gently as he could manage, only to be ignored when the poor man before him kept mumbling and tugging on the sheet. "Sailor!"
"Hoisting the jib. Bring up with a round turn."
"Sailor, there's no use. You've run aground." Will jolted as the man finally turned to face him, his pallid face a mask of pain as a blister on his knuckles burst and bled.
"N-no!" he gasped at Will, eyes wide with terror "B-b-beneath us….foul breath…"
SPLASH!
Will almost leapt out of his skin as he wheeled around to face the source of the collision.
Another man had fallen from the mast rigging, and the impact sounded like it cracked many things inside him.
Will did not know whether he should feel ill or not that he had become so used to the sound of breaking bones after watching Peggy transform those few times.
How she could bear the pain of such magic was beyond him, for the man on the deck moaned and groaned in absolute agony as he tried crawling up from the waterlogged pieces of the ship and onto the main deck.
"Hey! Hey!"
Will rushed towards the man, hoisting his lantern on a nearby shard of wood.
The man was still moving and breathing. Good, maybe, as pained as he was, this new man might be able to shed some light on this horrific situation, passing by other survivors who were hiding traumatised in nets or trapped with their legs or arms caught under mounds of wreckage.
Yet no sooner did the light of his lantern glide over the man than Will cried out and leapt back in horror.
His face? HIS FACE?!
Will had a strong stomach, but even he nearly fainted at the gruesome sight below. He dared not describe it.
It was like…like…
"A fearsome creature with giant tentacles that'll suction yer face clean off", Gibbs's voice echoed loudly in Will's brain as he backed away, hand clapped over his mouth to stop himself from throwing up.
CRASSH!
Water splashed straight into Will's back, and he turned around sharply as something huge and solid ploughed out of a nearby wave.
Will gasped as he leapt to the railing to see the new arrival.
It was not a large ship, only a little bigger than the Black Pearl, but she was a sight to behold. She had a crocodilian maw at the bow and three tall masts trimmed with raggedy sails made from kelp and seaweed. Her wooden hull was worn but sturdy even as water spewed from all her iron-trimmed portholes. She hardly seemed affected by weight loss as she smoothly glided and cut through the stormy seas.
Will had thought the Black Pearl was an intimidating ghost ship back when she was under Barbossa's captaincy. Still, she hardly held a candle to this incredible monstrosity that was and could only be the Flying Dutchman.
"There she is. The Flying Dutchman. Still a beauty after all this time."
"Aye…beauty…a beautiful nightmare is what she is. An' her captain is no better. To think I'd live to see the day…ahem – Speakin' of beauties ye think we should check on Peggy, Captain? She an' Sloane have been in there for a good long while."
"Aye, Mister Gibbs, best leave her outta this as much as we can."
"Ye trust this selkie lad? I know he's one of Labelle's boys but still, he did work with the EITC."
"I know. But right now, whatever side he's on, there ain't much he can do to anyone out here. If he wants to leave, he sure as eggs can't take Pegsy along with him in this state without killin' her, and if he tries anythin', then he'll have me and the rest of the Court swoopin' down to nab him. He has no choice but to play nice now."
"Ahh…I see. Still…"
"I know, Mister Gibbs, I know."
"Speakin' of knowing things captain...are...are ye sure about what yer doing? I mean with Peggy in this state, are you sure it's wise to let him-"
"Of course I'm sure mate. Trust me on this one. Now, me that spyglass. I want to see what that whelp's up to."
"Oy! Wake up ya louts!" A harsh voice yelled.
Will grunted as something hard hit him and his cheek stung sharply. Good Lord, what happened? The last thing he remembered was being on that broken ship, and those strange man-like creatures had attacked-
"Gettup ye dogs!" the harsh voice from before growled and Will's eyes opened wide as he was shoved up onto his knees.
The first thing he saw was that he was on a ship. A very wet, rain-drenched ship.
He knew it was not the pearl he was on, for lichen and barnacles dotted the ground everywhere. Jack Sparrow might have appeared to be a careless, haphazard man but he would never let his beloved Pearl look anything less than perfect.
Then that had to mean…
Will sucked in a sharp breath as he beheld his new surroundings for the first time.
The ship was old and weathered, covered in slime and with rotting wooden boards. The sails above were a mix of tattered cloth and seaweed, so ragged they must have been held bound together by some magic because Will could not tell how they were staying stitched together in the harsh stormy winds.
Beside him, four other men of varying ages are knelt. Two of them had their hands clasped before them as they muttered and mumbled tremulous prayers to god. The other two were silent, too terrified to move a muscle as swords were held to their backs by their captors.
Their captors…
Will shivered at the sight of them.
These were not the skeletal, living corpses he had seen fighting in the caves of Isla De Muerta. These were people who looked half sea creatures and half human.
Most of them had arms and legs, yet nearly all were deformed or twisted in some macabre oceanic way. Behind Will, a shorter "man" sported pufferfish quills on one of his cheeks and both his shoulders as he aimed the tip of a rusted blade at the back of his ponytail.
A few feet away, a pale man with the head of a hammerhead shark and strange crustacean-like appendages growing out of his spine stood, his sharp-toothed grin twisting at the edges of his mouth as he called out.
"Attention! Captain on the deck!"
All the strange and malformed crew of the Flying Dutchman stood to attention immediately, their twisted half-human faces showing fear for the first time since Will had seen them.
Thunk-thunk-thunk-thunk.
The muffled thuds of a peg leg pounded into Will's ears. Or was that just his head pounding from the hit that had knocked him out a short while ago?
Whatever it was, he found his gaze drawn to the helm of the ship, where a tall figure was stalking out of the shadows, followed by a couple of other shorter figures.
At first glance, it appeared to be a man, for its overall shape seemed human. It wore human clothes, including a long dark coat and a large hat, all covered in slimy kelp and hard barnacles. Yet the closer the thing got, the less man-like it appeared.
Its right leg was not a peg leg, at least not in the traditional sense. Instead, it was a sharp point like a crab claw, matching the left arm, which was a gigantic pale pincer. Will frantically looked at the other hand as it reached into a pocket and saw that though it did have fingers and a thumb, it also had a pale tentacle for an index finger that coiled around the pipe it raised to its mouth.
It's face…Will shuddered at the sight of the face.
It had eyes and a mouth similar to a human, but the skin was smooth and strange. His bone structure was framed by a "beard" made primarily of tentacles of varying lengths and sizes that each moved of their own accord. One of them reached to hold the pipe in place at the being's mouth as he busied his hand with lighting a match, the yellow light of the tiny flame illuminating its pale blue-green eyes, the one truly human part of the creature. However, even these eyes were cold and pitiless as they settled on one of the terrified men kneeling and praying on the floor a few feet away from Will.
"Five men are still alive. The rest have moved on!" the man with the shark head hissed to Captain Davy Jones, "An' with the girl comin' aboard soon, that'll be six new crew. We'll be tight fer space, sir if we take any more."
"Never mind about the lass, " the Dutchman's captain snapped so harshly that the shark-headed man and several of the crew flinched,"She will have her place down below, where she belongs."
Will was jarred by the thick Scottish accent that left its mouth. For some reason, he had expected something more diabolical and resonant, like a demon from hell. The thing certainly looked like it belonged in such a place.
Yet something else tickled the back of his mind that threw all uncertainty about the creature's origins out of Will's mind.
Girl? What girl?
Will's looked around. From what he could remember and see, there was no woman on deck with them…was there? He had not seen any woman aboard the decimated ship. Was she a child of one of the sailors? Or had a woman been sailing with them, and was she lost at sea?
Will was not the only one confused. The rest of his fellow captives were also glancing about the deck in bewilderment, only to get cowed as the creature turned its terrible gaze upon them.
Will felt his insides shrivel at the expression and looked down at the wooden boards below, cursing himself for his cowardice. He had always prided himself on being brave in the face of fear, but-
"Let's take a look at ye." Davy Jones mumbled, taking a long drag of its pipe and blowing smoke into the face of one of the men.
"Do ye fear death? Do you fear that dark abyss? All your deeds laid bare. All your sins punished. Bah!" the accursed captain snorted, the exhalation blowing not just through his mouth but also through another tentacle on his face that blew out the match's light in his hand. "I can offer you…an escape-"
"Don't listen to him!" one of the other men shouted. He was bleeding from a massive gash on his forehead, but his gaze and his voice were incredibly steady despite his injury.
Will recognised him at once as the sailor he had found pulling on the broken rigging, only now, instead of rope in his hands, he held tight to a beaded rosary with a small wooden cross. Davy Jones eyed the holy trinket with disdain as he hobbled towards its owner, the pincer hand swiftly moving up to grab the man by the throat.
"Do ye not fear death?" he asked, eyes wide with delighted malice.
"I'll…I'll take my chances, sir." Will could almost admire the scared man for his courage even as the captain of the Dutchman straightened up and sniffed at the horrific sea creature-man nearby.
"To the depths."
There was a flash of steel and a splash of red. Will winced and turned his face away to avoid watching the now dead man's body slump, though he almost retched as a stray droplet of sea water did manage to hit him on the back of the head as the crew of the Dutchman tossed him overboard like trash.
"Cruel blackguard!" the first frightened man spat, only to whimper and cringe as Davy Jones rounded on him sharply.
"Life is cruel." he snapped, dousing his pipe on his crab-like claw hand. "Why should the afterlife be any different?"
He turned to face the man closest to Will with a sneer as he leaned in to inspect his haggard face.
"I offer you a choice. Join my crew and postpone the judgement. One hundred years before the mast. Will ye serve?"
"I…I will serve." The terrified man bleated, though Will was horrified to see a strange sort of relief well in those dark and haunted eyes. Then again, Will could see some telltale sickly yellow scurvy staining the man's skin and eyes, so maybe a hundred years before the mast in a frozen state of limbo would have been preferable.
Davy Jones's leer of victory at a new crewman did not last long as he moved along the line and did a double take on Will, for in comparison to the other bedraggled souls, he was still very much alive, whole and kicking.
"You are neither dead nor dying!" Davy Jones snarled down at him, pale eyes glancing at the rest of his crew for an explanation for this anomaly on his ship before settling on the blacksmith again. "What is yer purpose here?!"
Will gulped as he tried to think of some excuse. He could not claim to be a stowaway; that would get him killed. Nor did he look as injured as any of his fellow captives, so pretending to be one of them was out of the question.
Then he remembered…
"Jack Sparrow sent me to settle his debt." He muttered, and to his surprise, the Dutchman's crew and her captain drew back in shock.
"What is yer purpose here?" Davy Jones repeated his question, eyes wide as he tried to stare straight into Will's, doing his best to detect a lie.
"Jack Sparrow…sent me to settle his debt." Will gulped as he met the pale, tentacled face. It was just as gruesome as Barbossa's undead face, though Will felt he'd much rather have tentacles than skin and flesh hanging off bones.
"He! Did he now?" Davy Jones snorted, leaning back and straightening up to his most entire height. "I'm sorely tempted to accept that offer."
Peggy felt the Devil's presence before she saw him arrive on deck.
Jack had been looking through his spyglass since the dreaded Flying Dutchman had broken through the water's surface. Most of the Black Pearl crew watched in a mixture of awe and horror at the sight of the cursed.
Peggy could not blame them for their terror.
If ever a ship terrified any sailor pirate or not, it was the Flying Dutchman. She was the ghost ships of ghost ships, the home of the devil himself…a pirate's death sentence.
And she, Peggy, had led it right to their door.
She clutched at her arm as she quietly shut the doors to the captain's quarters behind her and locked it with her spare key. Inside, she had put an unconscious Sloane on the bed of her nook, a cool, wet compress on his head and a letter for him to give to Jack. It was not much of an apology to her fellow selkie, but it was all she could manage given the limited time the Devil had given her.
Now, here he was, standing before Jack Sparrow, towering over the pirate lord in the cold moonlight and flashes of lightning.
Peggy watched with teary eyes as the mangled and malformed crew of the Flying Dutchman all slithered behind the crew of the Black Pearl, swords and weapons raised to their throats.
Gibbs was pale and stood still as a statue, his eyes wide with fear. Ragetti and Pintel were whimpering like beaten dogs as they shut their eyes and quietly wept. Cotton, like Gibbs, was silent, though Peggy could see his lips were trembling as he put his hands up in token of surrender while his parrot Paulie squawked in agitation. Marty, who was a few feet away from Peggy with a couple of other men, found himself grabbed from both sides, gulping as the tip of a sharp serrated blade pressed against his Adam's apple.
Only Peggy did not find herself with a sword to her throat, though one of the devil's crew, a man-like creature with the face of a deep sea fish and a bloated body did grab her and twist her arm behind her back to keep her from running.
"'ello lass...miss us?"
"Angler." Peggy gulped as she nodded to the man-creature once before returning to watch Jack and the Devil.
Jack gulped,, taking a startled step back from Davy Jones, though unlike the rest of his men,, he was not terrified. If he was, Peggy was impressed at how well he hid his fear, as he muttered, "Oh…"
"Ye have a debt ter pay!" Davy Jones bore down upon the pirate, each thud of his pincer peg leg and his boot hitting the deck like a clap of thunder. "You've been captain of the Black Pearl for thirteen years. That was our agreement!"
"Uh…technically, I was only captain for two years, then I was viciously mutinied upon." Jack pointed out in his usual quick thinking only to find himself leaning back as Davy Jones stalked around him and spat:
"Then ye were a poor captain, but a captain nonetheless. Have ye not introduced yerself all these years as Captain Jack Sparrow!"
The crew of the Dutchman all chortled viciously as Jack quickly turned to face the sunken devil, hardly phased by the mockery.
"You have my payment. One soul to serve on your ship is already over there."
Peggy's heart froze in her chest.
Oh no…oh no…what the hell? When did Will go to the Dutchman? He was supposed to search the wreckage and then return. That was the plan, wasn't it? Unless...
She looked at Jack as tears streamed down her face.
Was there a greater plan at work? Was Will supposed to be on the Dutchman to find the key? Was he in on the plan? Or was this just Jack being petty and cruel? Jack had been very displeased with William since the blacksmith had dumped her high and dry six months ago. And he had been very reticent to let Will into his life or his ship again after discovering Peggy's condition. Was sending him into the Devil's clutches just Jack's way of getting rid of Will once and for all? Despite their differences, Peggy knew Jack did like Will as a friend to some degree…unless she had been entirely wrong and misread the signs.
Her heart hammered as Davy Jones's voice drowned out all other terrible thoughts from her mind.
"One soul is not equal to another."
"Aha!" Jack smirked "So we've established my proposal is sound in principle and now we're just haggling over price."
"…Price?" Davy Jones quirked a brow at the pirate, intrigued.
Peggy shut her eyes in dismay. Why did Jack have to open his mouth? The second you gave the devil an opening, he'd make a deal that always benefitted him and him alone.
However, she kept her mouth shut, wincing as her right wrist throbbed painfully in a reminder of her orders from before.
"Just how many souls do you think my soul is worth?" Jack whispered conspiratorially.
Peggy shivered as Davy Jones looked around the deck of the Black Pearl, his gaze eventually landing on her pale petrified face.
He sneered with malicious pleasure, eyes glimmering in the moonlight and piercing straight into her. She wanted to curl up and hide in a corner under that stare but she could not. She was pinned in place like a butterfly on a corkboard as the Devil hissed into the cold night air.
"One Hundred Souls. Three days."
The Dutchman's crew laughed again, and Peggy hung her head to stare at the deck's boards.
"Yer a diamond mate. Send me back the boy and I'll get started right off!" Jack grinned congenially and tried to turn his back on Davy Jones, only to find himself faced with a shark-headed crewman.
Maccus…he's still as fearsome an attack dog as ever. Peggy felt her hackles raised at the memories of the shark-headed man's harsh shouts and brutal slaps to her head.
"I keep the boy, a good faith payment. That leaves you only ninety-nine more to go." Davy Jones barked with laughter, the rest of his crew joining in. Peggy cringed away from Angler behind her as he sniggered greasily into her ear.
Her hair must have caught the light or Jack's attention because, for the first time, he finally seemed to notice she was standing there.
For the first time since his conversation with Jones had begun, the pirate lord did look somewhat grim and guilty.
Peggy wondered if it was because of remorse for Will or concern for her broken bond. Now that Peggy thought about it, would her heart shatter if the Flying Dutchman separated her and Will? She had never given it much thought before. The ship itself was a plane outside of life and death. Would she die if it took either her or Will away from one another?
But that would not happen. She knew it would not. The Devil had wasted too much time waiting to collect on her soul. She was going on that ship whether Will was on it or not.
Either way, he was a lot less convivial as he stepped towards Jones and called over the top of the chortling:
"Have you not met Will Turner? He's noble, heroic, a terrific soprano. It's worth at least four…maybe three and a half…And did I happen to mention…he's in love…with a girl." He glanced at Peggy's direction, and Jones followed his gaze curiously, listening intently as Jack now took the opportunity to circle him and whispered in his ear.
Peggy frowned as she strained to listen, but Jack spoke so quietly that even the crew nearby squinted as they desperately tried to eavesdrop without looking suspicious. What Peggy could see, however, surprised her.
For a split moment, the Devil's face was slack, the anger gone. His pale eyes stared between her and the open ocean with deep sorrow; it made her already damaged heart ache to see it.
It was the most human expression she had ever seen on the Devil's face, and as lightning flashed overhead, she thought she saw, for a split second, the face of a human man with a scraggly beard and a weathered face.
Then the moment was gone as Jones sharply turned to face the rest of the crew, squaring his shoulders proudly as he barked:
"I keep the boy. Ninety-nine souls-ah!" he shook his head slightly as he brought himself under control again to return the volley to Jack.
"But I wonder Sparrow, can ye live with this? Can ye condemn an innocent man, a friend, ter a lifetime of servitude in yer name while ye roam free?"
"…yep, I can live with it. Shall we seal it in blood or…uh…ink?" Jack smiled, holding out his arm, ready to seal the deal. Had Peggy not been so dismayed already, she might have facepalmed at his cavalier attitude.
She should have known Jack would give Will up without a second thought. Jack was selfish till the end…though it did not come as a surprise to her.
She watched as Davy Jones took Jack's hand with his own, the tentacled finger gripping the pirate's hand so tightly he gasped and winced with disgust.
"Three days." He muttered, wrenching his hand out of the pirate's with a few tugs as the suckers on the tentacles accidentally got stuck.
Once free, Davy Jones turned to face Peggy and glowered at her.
"Angler, bring 'er over!"
"Wait, what?" Jack blinked in surprise as Angler shoved Peggy towards his captain.
"Oy! Let go of her!" Marty struggled against his captors only to grunt as the blade against his throat pricked the skin.
But Peggy was already standing between Jack and Davy Jones, her head bowed as she kept her eyes fixed on her toes, and Jack held up a hand in his usual awkward negotiation.
"Ah, Jonesy, I already gave you the whelp, didn't I? No need to take her-"
"Aye, she ain't a part of this," Gibbs called out.
"On the contrary, laddie…" Davy Jones sneered, raising his pincer hand to push Peggy's chin up. "She has been a part of this since the beginning. How else did ye think I was keepin' tabs on ye all this time?"
"Pegsy, what is he talkin' about?" Jack's eyes sharpened on Peggy, trying to meet her eye, but she kept her gaze fixed on his scuffed black boots.
"Ah…didn't she ever tell ye she was one of mine?" Jones chortled wickedly, "Clearly ye don't know yer precious cabin girl as well as ye thought ye did, Sparrow! Well go on lass, tell 'im! Tell him the truth! Tell 'em how ye wiggled yer way into his service on my orders. Tell 'em how loyally ye have been keepin' me abreast of this ship fer the last few months with this!"
Peggy gasped in pain as the crab claw grabbed her right arm and pulled it up for all to see. Illuminated by the moon's light, the dark ring of black ink stood out starkly on her skin as if it were as white as paper. The veins around the mark were all black and tinged a violent, angry red at the ends, but towards the centre, they had paled to a sickly green.
"The Devil's mark!" one of the crew near Marty yelled as his fellow mate cried out:
"Witch! She's a witch!"
"I knew that red hair was a curse."
Peggy shut her eyes as Jones shoved her into Jack's arms, unable to bear the slew of curses hitting her eardrums; worse still was the expression on Jack's face.
It was cold and devoid of emotion, save the ice in his eyes as he pulled her away to examine the mark more closely.
When Jack's gaze met her tearful eyes again, his expression was strangely tricky to read. He could have been angry, indifferent, guilty, or even sad. She wished he was angry and shouting at her; it would be easy to plead and beg for mercy then. This silence and blankness scared her more than any of his odd moods.
"So…You are one of his lot. The last selkie of the Caribbean, the devil's loyal sea dog." He sneered, and Peggy hung her head in shame as she wept.
"Jack…I…I'm so sorry. I was trying to…trying to do what I could to survive. I had no choice-"
"Oh, you had a choice, love." Jack snorted. "Ye chose to slither yer way around and survive any way you could. Oh, don't get me wrong, as a slithering survivor, I can respect that. Be that as it may, I wouldn't be a good pirate if I let some scurvy little rat like you stick around on my ship, no matter what we've been through" He would have sounded accepting and supportive if not for the cold gleam in his brown eyes. He was beyond furious now. Peggy would not blame him for taking his gun out on her.
Instead, what he did was far worse.
Peggy winced as she felt Jack's hand slip something down the open collar of her shirt before she was roughly shoved back into the Devil's waiting arms.
"Tell yer beloved whelp I said hello. You two selfish brats deserve one another." The words were cold and blunt, with no hint of his usual smarm and swagger.
Peggy felt her heartache at the sound. It was not like the ache of her broken bond, but it came near second place to it. Second to Will, Jack was one of her dearest friends. She always knew he would be disgusted and hurt by what she did, but nothing could have prepared her for the wave of guilt that washed over her as she
"I'm sorry, Jack…truly I am." She murmured, only for Jack to grunt wordlessly in response, his expression rigid and blank, much to the amusement of Davy Jones.
"Daughters of the ocean. Deceitful little creature, aren't they?" The Devil snorted, his tentacled index finger wrapping around Peggy's throat as his hand rested on her shoulder. "Three days, Sparrow. Three days, ninety-nine souls-"
"Ninety-eight," Jack muttered stiffly, pointing a cautious finger at Peggy, who blinked at him in surprise. "Take her, and it's ninety-eight souls."
"The Lass doesn't count." Davy Jones sniffed waspishly.
"I thought we established that no soul is worth the same as the other." Jack tilted his head, his tone light and casual, but his eyes stiff and tense. "Now that I think about it. I'd have thought the last selkie of the Caribbean would be worth at least eighty souls-"
"Perhaps," Davy Jones leered. "But ye see, Sparrow, she's already been mine for the last thirteen years. Ye can't barter a soul that already belongs to me."
"Worth a shot." Jack shrugged bitterly. "Fine then, take her. See if I care."
"Haha- and people call me cold-blooded." Davy Jones chortled along with the rest of his crew. "Back to the ship! Our work here is done for the night."
Will stared as the hulking mass of tentacles and barnacles that was Davy Jones stepped out from the shadows once more and began walking up to the helm, waving an arm at his men to continue their duties.
While the devil of the deep had been busy with Jack and the Pearl, a mottled, barnacle-browed blackguard called Clanker had lined Will and the rest of the survivors of the shipwreck against the railings for a quick inspection, which included harsh pat downs and rough tilting of heads to check for vermin or parasites.
"Hmm, strong arms. It'll be the deck for you, laddie." He grunted as he shoved Will's head down to inspect it for lice.
"Oi, Clanker! Got one more for ye!" the shark-headed man, whom Will guessed was the First Mate, barked roughly, shoving someone hard onto the deck.
"He-he-he! Look who's back!" Clanker jeered, unhanding Will and thudding over to the newcomer, who yelped in pain as they were dragged roughly to their feet.
Will looked up at the sound. His heart almost vanished as he recognised a familiar head of damp copper curls.
"No…no-no-no-no!" He gaped in horror as Peggy's freckled face came into view, twisted in pain as Clanker pulled her head around by the hair.
"Well, well, well. Those are new." Another crew member sneered from nearby as they and several others leered at how Peggy's wet shirt clung to her curves, a couple of them even whistling and catcalling.
Will could only be thankful Peggy was so diligent about wearing her stays and a shift beneath her pirate clothes because many of these wretched creatures were eying her like a fresh piece of meat.
"Not bad, not bad at all." Clanker nodded approvingly as he looked her up and down, though his interest had less to do with lust and felt more like a trainer examining a champion racehorse. "Not too scrawny either. Show me yer arms. Hmm, ye got some muscle. Now let's see them legs-"
"Get your filthy hands off her!" Will snarled before Clanker could kneel to inspect Peggy's hips and thighs.
There was silence as all eyes turned to Will. Clanker and Maccus glowered at him so ferociously that the man beside Will shrivelled into a ball and started cowering.
Will, however, was no longer afraid. How could he be when his entire body burned with rage?
He was not sure what the hell was happening. He had no idea why Jack had let this sunken Devil take Peggy, but Will would not let these dastardly creatures have her. He would not have a repeat of Barbossa. Not when her life hung so delicately in the balance.
Before any crew could hold him back, he rushed for Peggy, planting himself straight between her and Clanker, who stumbled back as he was pushed aside.
"Will no!" Peggy tried pushing Will away, her eyes wide and frantic as she saw the rest of the crew suddenly reach for their weapons at their belts.
"What are you doing, boy!" Maccus snarled, baring sharp shark teeth at Will, who glowered back just as fiercely.
"I said, keep your hands off her."
"Will don't. You'll get killed!" Peggy whispered, her voice dying in her throat as the heavy thudding of footsteps announced the arrival of Davy Jones as he descended the steps from the helm, staring down his nose at Will with all the disdain of a feral cat.
"So…Sparrow was right." Davy Jones's voice echoed across the deck, cold and sharp as a dagger as he stalked towards Peggy and Will, who quickly stood in front of her to shield her from view. "This be him then? The lad you so foolishly wasted yer time on? Tch! Should've guessed."
"Whatever deal you made with Jack Sparrow and me is between us. Leave her out of this. She doesn't belong here." Will glowered at the captain, who threw his head back and laughed.
"HA! What's this lass? Ye really did follow me orders didn't ye? Ye didn't even tell yer pretty little whelp about our deal. Hmph! So much for the loyalty."
"Deal?" Will's brow furrowed. What was this devil talking about?
"Oh, ye might have her heart, lad. Ye may even have her hand." Davy Jones rolled his eyes "But her soul, well…that's belonged to me for quite some time. And thanks to ye, it will still belong to me for far longer." he then barked at Maccus, "Take these two to old Silver in the Galley. They got two hours till they start their shift-"
He looked back at Will and Peggy, his gaze turning to ice and steel as he sneered:
"-and I'm sure they have much to talk about!"
The bell has been raised from its watery grave
Do you hear its sepulchral tone?
A Call to all, pay heed to the squall
And turn your sail towards home!
Yo, Ho haul together, hoist the colours high
Heave ho, thieves and beggars, never shall we die
Notes:
And there we have it. Chapter 23! Finally the Devil himself arrives.
I hope it was worth the wait; I've been looking forward to getting to Davy Jones forever!
So yeah, poor Peggy and Jack have been hit with this massive blow, and Poor Will does not know what is going on (cue confused Legolas's face in the background). Yeah, he was really left in the dark. Will Jack ever forgive Peggy or will this bode ill for them? Questions questions, all of which will hopefully make sense as we move forward ;)
Anyways to keep it short and sweet hope you enjoyed and keep faving, reviewing and following for more.
Until next time,
FuzzyBeta
Chapter 24: A Crack of the Whip
Summary:
“We must go on, because we can't turn back.”
― Robert Louis Stevenson, Treasure Island
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
"Oy Silver, two more fer ye! Silver? Silver?"
Will winced as Maccus's harsh voice snarled into the dark, gloomy galley. Despite the ship's swaying and the wood's creaking groans as it was battered by the storm outside, the kitchen was surprisingly quiet and peaceful. It was near the stern, beneath the captain's quarters but above the bilges and right next to the crew's communal dining area, which led onto the hammocks near the bow.
All in all, the kitchen was a narrow, tiny space with a little stove, a long wooden counter along one side and what appeared to be a bench on the other with a blanket and a mattress made from old straw stuffed into old linens, which was curtained off by a raggedy piece of old sail. From how clean the bedding was compared to the shabbiness of the room, Will guessed it had not been used long and wondered who had slept in it.
There was also a tiny trap door at the far end of the kitchen with steps leading to the bilges, possibly to make reaching stores easier. Will was not quite sure why a cursed crew would need a kitchen. Were creatures like Davy Jones capable of eating anything cooked?
Speaking of cooking, a small fire was lit in the stove while the most ancient and frail man Will had ever seen sat in a rotted and barnacle and coral-encrusted armchair before it, fast asleep and snoring softly. He was not as monstrously informed as the other crew members. His face was very much human, but his pale, waterlogged skin, encrusted here and there with coral and barnacles, was thin and weathered like crushed paper. This, along with his round bald head, whiskery moustache and short scruffy beard of silvery-white, made him look like a wrinkly old seal, especially when combined with the thick fur he wore like a blanket to cover his lap.
Will frowned as he looked at the elder's weathered pale hands resting on his lap, only to find himself eerily fascinated by the massive webbing between each claw-like finger. However, despite the sharpness of the claws, the man looked so frail and wispy that a single gust of wind might break him if it made contact.
Will glanced at Peggy to see her reaction. She was surprised to see tears in her eyes as she beheld the old man in the chair. These were not tears of shock but of recognition…of sad fondness. So she did know this elder…but that had to mean…
What the hell is going on?
"Agh! Stupid old man. Figures he'd fall asleep the second we turn our backs." Shark-headed Maccus rolled his eyes irritably before turning to grunt at Peggy. "Ye and yer 'beau' 'ave got two 'ours till yer shifts start. Ye better keep it down in 'ere or else…" he trailed off, swiping a claw-like finger across his neck. "Is that clear?"
"As crystal," Peggy muttered, her tone listless and her stare blank even as Maccus stalked towards her and Will, who stiffened in readiness but chose not to act. He had a nasty feeling that those sharp teeth were not for show.
"Good, because the captain ain't happy with ye. Not happy at all." His lips curled into a taut sneer as he sidestepped Peggy to circle her back. "He gives ye thirteen years o' freedom for one job, and ye took a runner the first chance ye got. So don't you or your lad expect any special treatment. Ye disobeyed the captain's orders ye got ter pay the price. Personally, I think 'e shoulda' wrapped a line around yer ankles and dragged ye along the sea bottom. But the captain thinks letting you stay down here to rot fer yer sentence is best for ye, an' what he says goes. but be warned, if you or yer boy cause any trouble, you'll both be facin' the punishment, no matter who's at fault. And I'll personally make sure ye lad gets to watch ye get flogged. Ye got that?"
"Yes…I got it." Peggy clipped, grabbing Will's hand to stop him from snarling as Maccus turned his snarl upon him.
"And you? Do you get that? Don't think for one second I would not lay a hand on yer woman if ye crossed a line."
"I understand completely," Will growled, willing every atom of himself from lunging at the foul creature even as he smirked and shut the door behind him with a sharp snap.
Still, the old man in the chair did not stir.
"Silver?" Peggy quietly drew away from Will to gently touch the old man's shoulder, only for her hand to jerk back as he let loose a waffling snore that sounded less like a human sound and more like a dog's snuffling.
"I don't think he'll be awake for a while," Peggy whispered as she gently pulled the furry blanket to cover the elderly man more appropriately. "Once he starts snoring, nothing'll wake him save for the fire going out."
"Peg…" Will sucked in a deep soothing breath to steady himself. "Peg, what the hell is going on? What are you doing here?"
"That's…it's complicated." Peggy's shoulders hunched as she sat slumped on the makeshift bed behind the old man.
"That's putting it lightly." Will snorted bitterly, running a hand through his hair. "What the hell, Pegs? I thought…I thought we were past all the secrets, yet here we are again!"
"I had no choice," Peggy mumbled, not meeting his eye.
"Bull!" Will pinched his nose. "You had a choice. You were just too scared to tell me-"
"Because if I told you, I'd be dead." Peggy snapped, quickly glancing at old Silver. But he was still snoring comfortably in his chair. Indeed, he seemed to have slid down into a more comfortable position now she had covered him better.
"What do you mean you'd be dead?" Will glared at her suspiciously. "I thought the selkie bond-"
"It's not that." Peggy shook her head, and Will groaned.
"Then what is it, Peg?" He strode over to her and knelt before her, quickly pulling her hands down before she could bury her face in them. "Peg, please…just tell me what is going on. Why do you…wait, what's… what's this?" He gaped in horror as he looked down at her right wrist in his grip.
A black ring of ink, like a tattoo, was imprinted on her skin. The blood vessels around the tattoo were stained black, the colour leeching into her palms, while the once pale skin between now throbbed an angry, painful red.
"Peg...what is this? When did you…" Will trailed off as understanding dawned, as he remembered all the times she had gripped her wrist in pain or hidden it quickly beneath a sleeve. Was this what she had been trying to hide all these long years?
"It's…it's his mark," Peggy mumbled, staring at the tiny fire in the kitchen stove.
"Jones?" Will frowned, his confusion greater than ever. "But I thought the Black Spot was-"
"The Black Spot is a death sentence created by the old gods to punish mortals that wronged them." Peggy's voice was dry as if reciting from an old textbook. "It can be passed down to any mortal by any of the Children of the Ocean or a being who actively serves an old god. Davy Jones is the carrier of souls, a ferryman of the seas. He has the authority to grant this mark like any other servant of Poseidon or any one of the old gods."
"And this mark?" Will scowled. "What does this mark mean? Why is it special to Jones?"
"All supernatural beings tied to the ocean have their gifts…or curses, depending on how you want to look at it." Peggy sighed. "This is one of Jones's gifts. His mark is created from the poisonous ink he creates in his body. It is the direst of punishments given to the most troublesome and disobedient crew. It means a slow and painful death for anyone that disobeys a direct order."
"And how in all that is good and holy did you ever become a member of his accursed crew?" Will sighed with frustration as she avoided his eye yet again in favour of staring at the thin excuse of a mattress she sat on. "Peg, please. I just…I want to understand-"
"Why? What good will dredging up the past do?"
"I don't know, but that's why I have to hear it so I can make sense of it all-"
"For what reason? You're only here for one task, and that's to get that trinket so you can prance off to be with Elizabeth-"
"No! I came here to find a way to save you."
"Why? Because you feel guilty?"
"Because I care about you."
"And how does your caring change anything, Will?" Peggy snapped, her tone cold. "How do you caring whether I live or die change anything when all you'll do after you're done here on this ship is crawl back to your precious fiancé? That was the plan, remember?"
"Plans change." Will glared at her angrily. "I told you I would save you after I was done with my mission."
"And how would you do that, Will? You can't love me in return because you love someone else. I can't force you to return my feelings without knowing you're faking it forever; that would break me more." There was a pause as she gulped down hard on the sob threatening to engulf her, her teeth gritted tight. "So, what, what do you propose to do to stop me dying or going insane, hmm?"
"I…I don't know." Will admitted, his grip on her hands tightening. "But I refuse to believe there is nothing to be done."
"Of course you do."
"At least I haven't given up like you." He spat hotly. "The Peggy Blake I know would never give up when times were tough. And she would never take the easy way out like this-"
"The Peggy Blake you know and the Peggy Blake I know are very different people." Peggy rolled her eyes.
"Then tell me more about her."
"Why? So you can add another damsel to your roster?"
"For heaven's sake, Peggy, you accuse me of stubbornness? Can't you talk through this mess with me?" Will snapped, cupping both her cheeks so she would meet his gaze. "Please…Whatever has been said and done between us recently, we've been friends for ten years. You once said you would tell me the truth when it was time. Well, that time has come. Please…you can be angry at me all you want afterwards. Snipe at me, push me around, I don't care. I'll take what you throw at me. Just tell me what you are doing on this ship. Jack promised me you'd be safe on the Pearl. He said he'd look after you and keep looking for ways to help you. And yet here you are, and the Pearl is sailing away. This wasn't part of the plan!...unless…Jack lied-"
"No…he didn't," Peggy mumbled, her eyes now brimming with tears as she remembered the coldness of Jack's stare upon her. "He…he meant every word he said regarding my condition…It's my fault I'm here. Has been all along."
"What do you mean?" Will bit his lip as he saw the guilt clouding her eyes. "Peggy, what happened?"
"I…After I first fell off my father's ship…I was picked up by the Dutchman...by Davy Jones…" She shivered as the name passed her lips as if it were some taboo to utter. "They fished me out of the sea…and told me I could stay until they passed near another port. Then, one of the crew would row me to shore, and I could figure out my way. The only thing I had to do in return was stay out of everyone's way and not bother the captain. Then one night…I…I had a nightmare. I came up on deck for some fresh air and saw a man getting flogged. They said he disobeyed orders, but I still don't know why he was punished. I…" She trailed off in a small sigh, and Will felt his gut sink.
"You tried to defend him." He murmured, and Peggy nodded.
"I was so horrified they would treat anyone that way." Her eyes misted over as they fixed on a spot over Will's shoulder. "Back then, I was an innocent. I knew my father was a cruel man, but I had never seen him be violent with anyone. He preferred isolation and cruel words. Seeing the flesh…and the blood…and Jones laughing…I shouted at him. I tried to stop him but got swatted aside. Then, the man getting whipped saw his chance and tried to fight the captain. And…well, when you attack a captain, they can deal with you as they see fit. So…thanks to my 'noble' actions, I signed a man's death warrant and received my very first beating for interfering with the captain's duties."
Will stared at her aghast, unable to bring himself to speak as she sucked in a deep breath and continued:
"When I woke up, I was in here with old Silver tending to me. My selkie pelt was gone. Jones took it. And by the law of the ocean, when someone takes a selkie's pelt, that selkie is bound to serve them, whether it be through matrimony or slavery, for however long the person has it or lives…and since Davy Jones is an immortal being…well…" She shrugged. "Still, I tried to escape. I tried many times. Each time, I failed, or he used my pelt to pull me back. Then, five months after I boarded the Dutchman, Jones caught me again. However, this time, he decided on a cruel punishment rather than a beating. He offered me a deal. In return for spying on Jack Sparrow for him for thirteen years, I would only serve one hundred years aboard the Dutchman like an ordinary human. Once my hundred years were up, he'd give me back my pelt, and I'd be free to live the rest of my life naturally in the ocean."
"But…wouldn't you be too old?" Will frowned in confusion. "No offence, but…a hundred years, you'd be ancient by the time you were released."
"Time doesn't flow on the Flying Dutchman Will. It freezes. Aside from the mutations, everyone here is the same physical age as when they joined. You can't age while on the Dutchman, nor can you die. You're stuck till your sentence is up, and you move on to the next world, or you are freed back into the world of the living. Even I won't die from my selkie bond being broken so long as I remain on this ship."
"So why let you go in the first place?" Will muttered.
"I think he realised it would be easier to let me go out into the world and grow up. A child my age was hardly useful for many chores around a ship like this." Peggy snorted, the sound bitter and hollow. "Also, he's a monster. Beatings are fun sometimes, but the Devil's real delights are in cruel mind games. He wanted to dangle freedom before me like a carrot and then snatch it from me at the last second. And, like the fool I was, I fell hard for his game, and now…I'm paying double the price for my stupidity."
"What do you mean double?" Will asked, though he had an awful feeling he knew where this was going.
"I…I didn't stick with Jack, did I?" Peggy gulped down hard on the tears. " For ten years, I was in Port Royal, hoping that being on dry land would keep me safe. And it worked…for a while…he…Jones can't step on land but once every ten years. When I was living on land, he could not trace me."
"So if you were safe on land, how did he…" Will's voice fell away as his hands released her face. "No…You…you don't mean when we…when I dragged you with me to save Elizabeth-"
"Yep," Peggy murmured, eyes now fixed on her lap as Will's eyes watered. "The night we left Tortuga and got caught in that gnarly storm-"
"Oh god…"
"-He said ten extra years for every year I spent in hiding. So now-"
"No-no-no-" Will's head fell into her knees as he held onto her legs tightly.
"-It's two hundred years I shall serve the Dutchman. And if I tried to run again or tell anyone the truth, then the poison in his mark would kill me-"
"What no-You can't- you're already-!" Will choked, "He can't just…how could he do that? He had to know-You were so young. He can't have expected you, a child, to be able to spy on a man like Jack-"
"He didn't." Peggy's voice was hoarse as her tears began to fall. Her mind was again fixed on Jack's cold face, and her hands automatically found their way to stroke Will's dark brown locks gently, more for the comfort of the familiar sensation than anything else. "But, like I said, he delights in torture. You should have seen him when he exposed the truth to Jack tonight. I've never seen him so entertained. And Jack…I don't think he's coming back for me…not this time…especially not after what happened with Hector."
Peggy shut her eyes as Will reached up and hugged her around the middle and whispered:
"Peg, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"Don't be." She whispered. "This one isn't your fault, Will. I didn't just stay behind in Port Royal for you. I was the one who chose to enter a deal with the Devil himself; then, I tried to run out on it. It was only a matter of time before he found me."
There was silence as Will buried his face into her stomach. He hadn't felt this wretched since he was a young boy. Now, guilt and grief ate away at his soul like voracious termites, hollowing him from the inside out.
It was bad enough he had broken her heart and condemned her once. Now, he had done it twice by dragging her back into the gaze of such a vile creature like Jones. And worse, she did not blame him at all. She should have been even more furious at him for his part in bringing her back under the thumb of such a being.
Instead, she tried to spare him, taking the blame upon herself again to keep him from feeling the sting…the same way she always did whenever pain crossed their path.
How many times had she waved him off when he caught her limping after a painful beating? How often had he seen her quickly hide her tears and force a smile to greet him after a rough day being scolded and worn down by harsh words? How often did she swallow her anger and apologise when she wasn't in the wrong after they had fought about something stupid?
I have been so blind. So foolish.
He shut his eyes as he sucked in a deep breath, her scent filling his nose as his face was enveloped by the cotton of her shirt and the softness of her arms around him.
"It wasn't your fault." He murmured, his grip tightening around her. "You were just a little girl. Your father should have protected you better from your stepmother, and Jones should never have tricked you or hurt you after agreeing to help you."
"From what I remember of the old stories, he was once a pirate." Peggy shrugged, her voice distant and soft. "Pirates lie."
"Still doesn't mean it's your fault." Will raised his head and craned his neck to press his forehead against hers. "You were an innocent child, and you were so young. How were you to know anything about pirates after being raised so sheltered? And as for that man who died, you are not to blame."
"But if I hadn't interfered-"
"Jones would have probably killed him anyway. From what I have seen tonight of this tyrant, I have no doubt he would have found an excuse to cull down any resistance." Will cut across her splutter firmly but gently, shutting his eyes as he basked in the touch of her skin against his. "You keep trying to play it tough, but I know you. You never can sit back and watch others suffer. You should not be ashamed or feel guilty for trying to show compassion to that man."
"But it hardly made a difference-"
"Are you kidding? Of course, it did. It was probably the only kindness anyone ever showed him in his final moments. That would have meant the world to him. I know how much it meant when you stood up to Barbossa to save my life." He reached up to stroke a stray curl from her face, his thumb wiping away a tear. "Peg…this isn't your fault."
"How can you say that?" Peggy blubbered. "After everything I've done-the way I've lied- the way I've treated you these last couple of weeks-"
"You were trying to survive a near-impossible situation that no person, child or adult should ever deal with," Will whispered. "You may have lied and kept secrets, but you did so because you didn't want to die or hurt other people. You are a good person, Peg. Yes, you've made mistakes and done some questionable things, but despite all that, you're still good in here." he reached out to touch her heart. "You've always been good, and you'll continue to be good, and no one, not me, Jones or Jack or anyone, can take that from you."
"Be careful what ye say, boy." An aged voice croaked behind Will's back. "This ship has quite the way of twistin' even the purest of hearts."
"Shit!" Peggy squeaked as Will's arms tightened around her so hard she almost squished in his grip.
Sure enough, when Will turned his head, the old man in the chair behind him was stirring in his seat. His eyes were drowsy but open enough for Will to see the dark brown irises staring blearily over his shoulder at Peggy.
Upon seeing her copper curls, the old man's face split into a wan smile.
"Ahh…girl, I wondered when I'd see you again."
"Long time no see, Old Man," Peggy sighed as Old Silver grunted and straightened himself in his chair. The blanket slipped from his legs to reveal a horrid sight.
Peggy gaped as Will's eyes widened. The elderly man's thin, withered legs, pants, and everything else were covered in bleached and slimy coral, which also covered the chair. The skin of his feet fused at the ankles, making his large, webbed flipper-like feet look like grotesque leathery fins.
Will was painfully reminded of Peggy's transformation between seal and woman, particularly the in-between stage just after she shed her fur and was still mostly seal-shaped with human arms.
"Silver," Peggy's eyes filled with tears as she gently pushed Will aside to pick up the man's blanket from the cold floor. "Your legs…"
"Oh, this…" Silver shrugged, hardly phased by their horror at his condition. "This happened a while ago. Good thing ol' Jimbo put these on the back of me chair." He jerked a thumb to where a pair of small wooden wheels had been attached to the two back legs so that another person could lean the chair back and push it around.
"Ah, Thank you, me dear." Silver sighed as Peggy resettled the blanket over his lap, quirking a brow at her sad expression. "Ay, don't give me that look; it ain't as bad as it looks. Besides, my old legs aren't what they used to be."
He turned a sharp eye on Will, his moustache quivering as he grunted. "So this is him, then? The lad ye risked yer life for?"
"Will Turner." Will stood up and reached out to carefully shake the man's old, webbed hand, wincing in surprise as the strength of the other man's grip surprised him.
"Hmm, well, at least ye found one that can do an honest day's work. Blacksmith?" He looked up at Will, who nodded.
"Yes, sir,"
"Hmph! Well, don't expect any mercy from this lot, then. They'll work you to the bone as long as you keep working." Silver grunted as he pulled his hand away and reached beneath the collar of his stained white shirt. "Well, as much as I'd hate to interrupt whatever lover's tiff is going on between ye two, but ye don't have much time till the next shifts start." He pulled a silver pocket watch on a chain and flicked it open for Peggy and Will to see the time.
They only had ten minutes left till he had to be on deck again, and Will felt they would not tolerate any excuse for lateness.
Will sucked in a deep breath and sighed. He supposed he should count himself lucky that Jack had let him rest for most of the day as they had prepared to board the scuppered ship. But still…the idea of leaving Peggy alone in here…he doubted Silver could do anything to her in his frail state. Nor could he help her if someone came in to have their way with her…
"Will, it'll be fine, I'm-" Peggy began only to blink as Will pressed something into her hands. She looked down and saw, to her surprise, a small knife, sheathed in worn leather. It was one of Will's creations; she could tell at once from the shape of the wooden handle.
"Keep this on you. If anyone tries anything while I'm not here, you have some protection at least."
"Will-" Peggy tried only to stop short as Will wrapped his arms around her tight once more, his face burying itself into her shoulder.
"We'll talk more later. I'm sorry I had to make you relive such awful memories, but know, I'm glad you told me the truth." He murmured, and Peggy was not sure if she had imagined it. Were those his lips she could feel pressing into the crook of her neck?
She shut her eyes and shook her head. Silly man, did he still not understand-
"Evenin' Captain!" Silver's voice croaked and Peggy and Will froze where they stood.
Shit. Peggy swore as she glanced over her shoulder and saw Davy Jones standing outside the now open door, glowering at the pair of them with such venom it made Peggy shiver and nearly shrink into Will's arms.
"Time's up." The Devil of the Deep spat, his pale green eyes narrowing as he saw the blacksmiths' arms tighten around the Selkie woman protectively. "Get to the deck, lad. I've got to have a word with your wife."
Wife? Will opened his mouth to object, but Peggy quickly nudged his stomach and whispered:
"It's okay, Will, I got this."
"You're sure?"
"I'm waiting, lad!" Davy Jones snarled, his face twisting as Will planted another small kiss on Peggy's forehead and pulled himself off her.
"I'll be back after my shift. Stay safe." He muttered, and Peggy gulped as she gave the tiniest of nods.
"You too."
She stood still as Will stepped around her, hardly daring to breathe. She watched him sidestep around Davy Jones and leave the room, glaring at him with all the cold contempt he had.
Oh, Will, please don't do anything stupid.
She bit her lip as Will passed out of sight, and the Devil turned his attention back on her.
"Insolent pup. Hmph!" Davy Jones snorted as he stared her down. "Figures ye'd pick a troublemaker."
"Is there something I can help you with, Captain?" Peggy muttered through gritted teeth, willing herself not to cry as the title passed her lips and made her think of another familiar face.
"I came ter lay down the rules of yer stay. I take it Maccus already told ye, ye'd be responsible fer yer whelp if he causes trouble."
"He did." Peggy nodded. "Will he stay in the crew quarters?"
"No." Davy Jones growled, his face a mask of discomfort as if the very words he was about to say felt disgusting in his pale mouth "He will stay with ye in here. Whatever said an' done I won't split a married couple that 'ave taken their vows before God, so long as ye don't cause any trouble. Or else it's the brig fer the two of ye."
Married? Will and I aren't …what? Did Will tell him that? Why? What the hell? However, despite her confusion, she kept her mouth shut, though something of her confusion must have shown on her face because Jones snorted.
"Aye, Sparrow told me all about yer lad. Then again, don' know why I am so surprised he'd follow ye here, given the pup's cheek given that yer cut from the same filthy cloth. Bah!" He spat on the floor, and Peggy quickly masked her surprise as she asked:
"And what of my duties?"
"Ye be down here with Silver, cookin', cleanin', doin' whatever chores he tells ye. Doin' what a woman's best at." Jones sniffed haughtily. "I told the men they ain't ter touch ye. Anyone that dares touch ye out o' turn without my permission will lose their hand. But don't think I'm bein' soft on ye." He added, his stare hardening on Peggy, and she knew well enough then to question the ice she saw in his gaze. "Devil I may be, but let it not be said I am not a man of my word. I can just as easily give the lads the word to whip ye with the cat-o-nines should ye or yer whelp put one toe out of line. Do ye understand?"
"I understand." Peggy nodded glumly
"Good. Now get ter work. Evenin' shift is endin' and they'll be needin' their rations. Ye will start yer cookin' at the end of the next deck shift, an' it better be ready in time. If yer tardy like yer predecessor, there will be punishment ye hear me."
"Aye, captain," Peggy said listlessly and thought she saw Jones bristle with disappointment even as he turned his back on her and stalked out the room, his crab-peg-leg thudding angrily with each stomp.
He must have expected her to crumble and beg for mercy before him like some damsel in distress. Well, the joke was going to be on him. Peggy had cooked, cleaned and worked a full twelve-hour day during her life at Port Royal, and she had helped run the galley on the Black Pearl, running smoothly as butter.
"So… married ey?" Silver's bushy eyebrows rose as his lips quirked into a smile.
"It's…complicated," Peggy murmured, quickly dusting herself off as she heard the thuds of many boots down a nearby set of stairs.
That must be the last shift coming down for their rations.
She gulped quickly, turning to Silver.
"Where do you keep the rations?"
"They're already ready in the crate down below," Silver grunted, jerking his head towards a crate in the corner. "Yer predecessor was kind enough ter make some to ease yer load before ye boarded. 'Twas he that also set this up for ye." Silver pointed to the makeshift bed of straw and crates half hidden behind the raggedy sail curtain. "Said a young lady like ye deserved a decent bed away from the rest o' them rough sailors."
"That was…that was kind of him." Peggy swallowed thickly as she quickly clambered down the stairs into the stores below. Luckily for her, a lantern was glowing at the bottom, illuminating the dank and frankly foreboding, dark room with its bright, waxy yellow light.
Peggy was quick to find the rations neatly organised in a large crate. Each sailor on shift had a small bowl, mug, and spoon to be taken to the kitchens and filled with porridge and ale kept near the stove. Each bowl had their sailor's biscuits, dried meat strips, and a small fruit. Peggy was surprised to see that the live animals kept below were incredibly healthy despite the dank dreariness of their surroundings.
Davy Jones might have been cruel, but he was a good captain. He understood food's importance to a crew's morale and loyalty, even when undead. It was one of the few comforts from life the crew of the Flying Dutchman had left, and though most men had mutated into creatures beyond recognition, they still were, at their core, human.
And speaking of comforts… Peggy looked up at the ceiling and thought about the straw bed above.
Who would ever show such kindness on this ship of all places? Davy Jones usually abhorred such displays of 'softness' among his crew.
I should find out who he is and thank him. Peggy mused as she carefully brought the crate of rations above deck. He didn't have to go out of his way for me when I was replacing him.
"Silver?" she mumbled as she came up the stairs.
"Hmm?"
"The man working here before me, what's his name?"
"Ey? What's that, girl?" Silver frowned, and Peggy rolled her eyes.
"What's his name? A man gave up his bed for me, so I think I should thank him, right?"
"Funny ye should ask that." Silver's eyes twinkled as he smirked. "His name ain't too dissimilar from your young man's."
"So he's another William?" Peggy frowned. It was not an uncommon name, but something stirred in her mind—an old familiar feeling.
"More like a Bill. Bootstrap Bill."
Peggy nearly dropped the crate in her arms.
"What? Bootstrap?" She squeaked, eyes wider than saucers. "Old Bootstrap - he's here? On the ship? He's alive?"
"Nah. Not alive." Silver snorted. "You know nothing is ever truly alive."
"Whatever!" Peggy quickly set down the crate on the long kitchen counter. "Where is he? How did he get here? How is he-"
"Peace, girl, peace!" Silver raised his hands in a stopping motion, wincing as her loud voice hit his ears. "Keep screeching like that; the captain will have both our heads."
Peggy quickly shut her mouth and sucked in a deep breath.
"Silver, what happened?" she asked through gritted teeth, barely suppressing the nerves within her.
"If ye want to know what happened to Billy, then ye better wait till he's back from his shift. It ain't my story to tell."
"You mean he's above deck?"
"Yes, yes!" Silver waved her off waspishly as several cursed crew members began lining up at the door. "Now on with ye. These men are hungry."
Peggy nodded dumbly, her body going through the motions as she served each crew member a ladleful of warm, lumpy grey porridge and ale to accompany their rations. As she served them, each man thanked her, and a couple stared in awe at her relatively clean and uncursed face.
Peggy wondered if this was the first time they had seen a woman in a while, let alone one so relatively clean. Though her hair was still messy, and her face was wet from tears, she was not covered in barnacles or dressed in rags.
She wondered what had happened to Bootstrap.
The last time she had seen him was the night of Barbossa's mutiny. He had stood in the doorway of her nook on the Black Pearl, doing his best to block Koehler and Twigg from entering and taking her captive. Peggy's heart ached as she remembered Twigg punching his lights out with a hit to the face, breaking his nose before tossing him, groaning to the side. Peggy would never forget the way the man had desperately struggled against his crewmates as they dragged him below deck to the brig for his actions, all the while being beaten into submission whenever he got close to escaping their grasp.
Now that she thought about it, it was not too dissimilar from the way Will had thrashed and screamed for her when Barbossa had first taken them captive.
Like father like son, Peggy sighed sadly as she served the last crewman his rations and closed the lid on the pot of porridge.
Was he still looking the same? Would she even recognise him? or was he a disfigured half-sea monster hybrid?
Bootstrap was alive… Bootstrap, here on this ship…with her…with WILL?!
Oh gods, William, please be careful. She bit her lip, cursing herself as her stomach warbled. In all her terror about tonight's events, she had hardly eaten a thing all day.
"Ye should finish up the last of that porridge." Silver groaned as he leaned back in his chair, holding up his webbed hands to warm them by the stove. "Ye will need yer strength."
"What about you?"
"I already ate before ye and yer lad came in?" Silver shooed her as he shut his eyes. "Now, do me a favour, girl, and let me finish my nap peacefully. All the fish and vegetables are up here, ready fer you to use. Start cookin'"
Peggy rolled her eyes as she silently nodded, gently touching her stomach. It gave another loud warble, only to freeze as she felt something odd beneath her shirt.
Huh? What's that?
She quickly turned her back on Silver, looked down the front of her shirt and frowned.
Something was down there—something made from dark material.
A package? Peggy frowned as she pulled the tiny thing out from inside her shirt. It was a small pouch, tied with a thin cord of rope, made from scraps of black canvas, the same black canvas that made the sails for the Black Pearl.
Someone must have nicked it while we were doing repairs. Peggy mused as she examined the pouch more closely. She had never seen it before, nor could she recall tucking anything away-
She froze as she remembered a familiar pair of ringed hands shoving something down her shirt a couple of hours ago.
Jack! She breathed, hardly able to believe it. It had to be Jack. He was the only person other than Will who had been close enough to slip this onto her person without anyone seeing.
Carefully pouring some porridge into a bowl for herself before she quietly tiptoed around Silver's chair to sit behind it on the floor. His body blocked any sight of her from the door as she tipped the contents of the pouch into her hand.
A silver chain and oval locket pendant with an abalone shell embedded on the front.
"Oh, Jack…" Peggy wept softly. "Jack, I'm so sorry."
"HEAVE!"
Tug!
"HEAVE!"
Will groaned as he hauled on the thick rope with several other crew of the Flying Dutchman. Though she appeared smaller on the outside, on deck, she was a much bigger and bulkier ship than the Black Pearl. She was busier too, far more complex in her rigging, a battleship just as much as a pirate ship.
Cold rain lashed down from on high while thunder rolled overhead. Grotesquely deformed men and humans scrambled over the deck, groaning and grunting in pain while men with whips and batons shouted and hollered orders from the higher-ups.
He could understand how naive and innocent seven-year-old Peggy would have felt so scared of such an environment. If one were not used to the business of a ship, then it would have been a massive shock to the system.
By comparison, the Black Pearl, the Dauntless, and the Interceptor felt like havens even when under pressure. Maybe that had more to do with the captains of those ships than with the actual ships themselves.
Even that brief journey with Barbossa at the helm of his undead crew had been far less intense than this. There was some fear with Barbossa at the helm, but he also commanded respect from his crew with his impressive presence and air of authority.
Jack was similar in that sense. He, too, had a lot of respect from his crew, which had more to do with his reputation as a living legend, eccentric as he was. Yet, though Jack could be dangerous, he was not violent or intimidating by nature, so his most loyal crew served him out of fondness and steadfast loyalty.
Davy Jones, on the other hand, was indeed a formidable and intimidating figure. His crew respected him, but Will almost smelled the fear rising wherever the captain treaded. He was Hell incarnate to all who saw him, even his most loyal followers. The tenseness on this ship was palpable and could not be ignored.
Will shook himself as he caught sight of Jones's hat disappearing below deck.
To think he would meet the devil that had haunted his Peggy's nightmares for years. Will had always thought that when Peggy called Jones the Devil, it was because he was a figment of her imagination, a safe way for her to process her trauma in a way her young mind could understand.
To think all this time, it was a real, breathing person holding her life in his hands…or claws…
Will snarled as he hauled on the rope with the men again, thanking his lucky stars that he had retained enough self-control back in the kitchen when Jones had entered the room.
It had been long since Will had felt the urge to thrash the daylights out of anyone. Not even Barbossa had managed to incur that much wrath from him.
But then Will remembered how Peggy had shrunk into his arms at the sight of the Dutchman's captain, how she had shivered and looked down at the floor like a beaten dog.
Peggy was one of the bravest people he knew. Although she may have gotten scared of some things, he had never seen her cower like that before. She looked like that terrified, broken little girl he had found on the beach all those years ago.
She never stopped being that terrified, broken girl…she just got better at hiding it until it was too much to bear. Until I tipped her over the edge. Will thought miserably, remembering her story about the man she had tried to save…how she shivered as she recalled her first beating at the hands, or claws, of Davy Jones.
Will's knuckles tightened upon the rope. Not for the first time in his life did he wonder why there were so many adults who dared to hurt children. Why? What good did it do them to hear a child's screams of pain and see the fear in their eyes?
Will spared another small glower for the accursed captain, not caring if he was spotted. For all the man knew, he was mad about the weather. So long as he made it through this shift and could return to Peggy. Then he could rest easier knowing she was close at hand.
I must find a way to get to that key when I get off my shift. Will scowled as he was sent with a couple of men to haul on another rope across the deck. If we can get the key, we can escape and find Jones's heart. With Jones's heart in hand, he can barter for Peggy's freedom and release Jack from his debt. Yes…if I release Jack from Jones's debt, he would have no choice but to come with me to Beckett if he wanted to pay me back…Then Elizabeth can be spared the hangman's noose, and then…
Will's heart sank as he remembered Peggy's tear-stained face and utterly defeated expression.
Even if he somehow miraculously achieved this plan forming in his head, there was still that mess with Peggy's broken heart. Saving her from Jones would not magically heal their tattered bond and stop her impending doom. Now that he thought about it, Jones had also marked her with that awful tattoo that would kill her if she disobeyed an order or tried to run away from him.
I'll have to keep her out of my plans as much as possible. Or at least make sure Jones can't pin anything on her. So long as she remains innocent in his eyes, she can't be hurt. Will grit his teeth. And when we get out of here-
His thoughts halted as loud, booming music began to bellow from deep below—a haunting, blasting melody that swayed and swerved in time with the ship's rocking against the harsh, stormy waves. He was sure he had heard the tune before, but where?
Was he imagining the sound? Where on earth would music be coming from on a ship like this? But no sooner had the thought crossed his mind did the bosun bark:
"Secure the mast tackle, Mister TURNER! STEP TO IT!"
Will quickly rushed to his chore, barely noticing another man rush up to the foremast until they were shoulder to shoulder, jostling for a grip on the rope.
"Step aside!" Will shouted, wondering who this man was and why he had obeyed a command that was not his own.
"Hey! Mind yourself!" the other man shouted, and for a second, Will's ears pricked in recognition. That voice…he knew it from somewhere…
However, he quickly dismissed the thought as the rope slipped from his wet hands. He quickly grabbed it again, doing his best to haul it back to the rigging, but his efforts were halted when the other man tried to yank the rope from his grip.
"Oy!" he shouted at the man as he felt himself get jostled to the side. Just what was his problem? Why wouldn't he let Will complete his task?
"Let go, boy!" the man shouted.
Angry, Will straightened up to look his competition in the face, and his eyes widened in shock.
A pallid, waterlogged face of a middle-aged man stared back at him. Unlike most of the Dutchman's cursed crew, he retained most of his human features, though a starfish and barnacles stuck to the right side of his face. His mop of brown hair was half hidden under a cap of grey-blue, and his eyes were pale light blue.
For some reason, those eyes looked familiar to Will, though he could not pinpoint why. Where had he seen them before? Had he and this strange man met in the past? But if so, then when? And how did this man come to be in Davy Jones' crew?
The man, likewise, stared at Will, his eyes watering slightly as they roamed across each of his features, drinking them in one by one until he finally met his gaze.
"No…" He breathed, stumbling back and letting go of the rope.
Will gasped as the sudden weight displacement on his rope's end offset the cannon used as a counterweight high above the deck. With a yelp, Will found himself flying backwards off his feet, clinging to the rope for dear life as he was dragged bodily across the deck, his already sore back slamming painfully into the damp wooden railing.
He was so in pain that he hardly noticed the creaking groan of metal above his head or the loud crash as the cannon suddenly fell from on high and landed solidly on the deck. Luckily for the crew, they had been able to scramble out of the way of the impact just in time, though for many, it was a close call.
"Haul that weevil to his feet!" the bosun snarled, and Will grunted, still dazed, as two pairs of strong mutated arms pulled him to his feet.
He hardly struggled as he was thrown against the rigging. His two captors, a man with a pufferfish face and another who looked like he was made from coral, held his arms so that his back faced the rest of the crew as the bosun strode forward, whip in hand.
"Five lashes will remind you to stay on 'em!" the bosun shouted, raising the whip in his hands, only for his wrist to jerk to a stop high in the air as a pale hand grabbed it with a shout.
"NO!"
To his surprise, Will turned his head to look at who was sparing him and saw the man from the mast tackle with him. He was standing between Will and the bosun, doing his best to cover him with his body as much as possible, even as he was snarled at fiercely.
"Impedin' me in my duties? Then you'll share the punishment-"
"I'll take it all!" the pale man shouted, only to stiffen as heavy footsteps thudded across the deck.
"Oh, will ye now?" Davy Jones sneered as a flash of lightning illuminated his pale, tentacled face and flashing angry eyes. "And what would prompt such an act of charity?"
"My…my…son, "the pale man gulped, turning to look at William, his eyes full of emotion. "He is my son…"
There was silence on deck, save the howling of wind and rain and the creaking of ships.
What? Will stared at the pale man before him, looking him up and down as something in his mind finally sparked like a cannon fuse. Those eyes…that face…Will remembered them now, though they had used to belong to a face slightly younger and filled with more colour and life. His hair had been curlier, too, not the damp mop tangled with seaweed that drooped out from under his cap.
But…But it can't be my father. My father should have died the day we broke the Curse of Isla De Muerta. This miserable wretch can't be…he just can't…
Then Will remembered the order the bosun had shouted. Mister Turner…that was the name called, and this strange man had answered so readily.
Now that Will thought about it, it was only his first shift aboard the Dutchman. Hardly any man would have learned his name to call it out so readily on the deck. But if this was Bootstrap Bill Turner, then why wouldn't he answer the summons?
Will shivered as Jones threw back his head and laughed, the sound as cruel and cold as the stormy waves splashing into the ship's side.
"Ha-ha-ha! What fortuitous circumstance be this?" He looked between the two Turner men, examining their features closely. "Five lashes be owed, I believe it is." The Devil held out his hand to the bosun, who handed him his whip with a wide, malicious grin. Then Jones held it out expectantly to Bootstrap.
Boostrap stared at the whip in horror as Will struggled against his captors, the animal instinct in the face of fear taking over his usual bravery for a split moment.
Though he had taken many beatings in his life, Will had only been whipped once before as a lad, nearly eleven years ago when he first set sail from England after his mother's death. He had been lashed three times for stowing away on board that English Trading ship before being put to work and could remember the biting sting of his flesh tearing apart like it was yesterday.
"No…No, I won't!" Boostrap's voice wavered despite his attempt to be firm.
"The cat's out of the bag, Mister Turner!" Davy Jones scoffed loudly, his shout piercing the night air even through the rain and waves. "Yer issue will feel its sting, be it by the bosun's hand or your own."
"No." Boostrap shook his head, and the captain's eyes flashed angrily as he yelled:
"BOSUN!"
"NO!" Bootstrap snatched the whip out of Jones's tentacle-fingered hand, adjusting his grip.
"Shame yer woman ain't on deck ter see this lad." Jones barked as he watched Will's captors force his vest from him and ripped the back of his shirt open. "Then again, I suppose it'll be punishment enough ter see you marked by yer father's hand."
Will winced as the icy wind blasted against his bare skin and gripped the rigging he braced against tight as he tried to brace himself for the pain to come.
He thought of Peggy below, hopefully safe and hidden in that kitchen as he did. He was thankful she was not on deck to witness this, for she would have certainly tried to intervene on his behalf, no matter how afraid of Davy Jones she was. Then, the Devil really would show no mercy.
No. Will had to go through with this. He could not let Jones lay a hand on her…not after it was his fault he landed her back here.
Katwhack!
Will cried out as something heavy and sharp slammed into his back, the edge of it slicing into his flesh and dragging a painful line down his spine. The shock of the blinding pain was so intense that he would almost bite down on his tongue.
Quickly, he turned his head, groaning in pain as he bit into a thick rope that pressed against his face, bracing himself just in time for the next slice against his back.
He groaned into the rigging as his back seared from the second strike, which had crossed at an angle over the first one, almost doubling the pain.
That was two now.
Three more to go.
Will shut his eyes as the third strike hit his back, trying not to think about the pain that nearly forced him to his knees.
If only he could be anywhere but here.
For some reason, his mind wandered back to the night before Jack's execution, how he and Peggy had slept side by side in her tiny bed in her room in Mister Brown's home. They had both been so at ease with one another then. Neither cared about the outside world as they curled into one another beneath the covers.
Kathwack!
"AHHGHH!" Will cried out, releasing the rope from his teeth as the fourth strike landed heavily near his neck and slid over his shoulder blade.
Still, he kept his eyes shut as he forced himself to remember the morning of the execution itself. He had woken up to the sun shining on his face and the warmth of Peggy's head resting on his shoulder as she curled into his chest, her curls tickling his nose. He had awoken feeling rested and content with life, confident in his plans despite the uncertainty of his victory. For a tiny moment, it was just them and nothing else, and that was enough.
"GHAARGH!"
There was a cheer from the men as the final lash of the whip landed on Will's back, this time the tip sliding and landing a small slice over his ribs as he sank to his knees, his grip on the rigging slackening as the pain overwhelmed all his senses. He could smell the iron of blood mixing with the salt of the ocean for not only was his back bleeding, but his hands had gripped the ropes so tight that he had broken the blisters.
So in pain was he that he hardly registered the rough hands that hauled him across the deck and threw him down to a lower level.
With a cry of agony, Will landed with a heavy thud on the main deck, managing to land safely on his side rather than his back. The sting of cold air and salt water against the wounds on his back was enough to keep him wide awake as he desperately scrambled to his feet.
"You had it easy, boy!" the Bosun jeered from high above, but Will was not listening to him.
"Will!" the pale, cold hand of Bootstrap Bill Turner reached to help him up, but Will swatted it away.
"I don't need your help!" He growled at his father; his anger doubled in his pain. How could he? HOW COULD HE? His father, whom he had thought dead all these years – his father who had abandoned him and his mother to chase glory with pirates without looking back even once – Now he dared to act like he cared? Now? After whipping him on the orders of that Devil?!
Will did not know if he was shaking with pain or rage as he dragged himself up to stand against a piece of rigging.
"The bosun prides himself on cleaving flesh from bone with every swing," Boostrap called out as he threw Will his vest to cover his back.
"So I'm to understand what you did was an act of compassion?" Will snarled.
"Yes," Bootstrap said softly, his eyes wells of many swirling emotions. Pain, sorrow, grief, and yet there was also some relief there.
It hardly did Will any good to see it.
"Then I guess I am my father's son." He spat as he struggled to hold himself straight. "For nearly a year now, I've been telling myself I killed you – to save you!"
"You killed me?" Bootstrap blinked in confusion.
"I lifted the curse you were under, knowing it would mean your death," Will explained as he hobbled away, each step as painful as the last as his battered and bruised thighs burned under his weight "But at least you would no longer suffer the fate handed to you by Barbossa."
"Who…who's Barbossa?"
Will turned to face his father with a scowl, ready to snap at him, but he stopped in his tracks when he saw the man's face. He looked astonished…lost…, and confused. Will squinted. It seemed a genuine expression, and though he had barely any memories of his father as a child, he had a strange feeling that, like Will himself, Bootstrap Bill Turner was not good at masking his true emotions.
"Barbossa," Will prompted. "The man who condemned you to a life at the bottom of the ocean."
There was a pause during which Bootstrap seemed to consider this information. However, to Will's growing alarm, the man did not even register his name or the deeds he had committed. What Bootstrap did notice was the bewilderment on his son's face.
The pale waterlogged face softened as he strode to his side and said:
"The Dutchman is a strange place, son. Those who've done things to you, you tend to forget. But it's the things you've done to others…" he paused as his gaze swept sadly over Will's wet face. "Those are the things that hang on."
There was a pause as both Turner men stared at one another. Though nothing was said in words, Will could see the regret in his father's eyes…the grief and the desperation. All the words and apologies he wanted to say for years were in his eyes…but he was too scared to say them out loud.
Six months ago, such a sight would have made Will angry. But now…after everything that had happened recently…he understood the sentiment only too well.
So he let his father walk past him, letting the unsaid stay unsaid. Besides, those words were not meant for others' ears.
"Why do you forget?" Will asked as he and his father stepped under the shade of the upper deck, right next to a row of cannons illuminated by waxy candles encased in cage-like lanterns.
"It's part of the lie and the gift given by Jones." Bootstrap muttered as he shuffled before Will, treading the driest path on the damp, slimy floor. "Ye make the deal, join the crew. You think you're cheating the powers. But it's not salvation you found…" He paused in his step to stare Will coldly in the eye. "It's oblivion."
He turned back to his steps, gesturing for Will to follow him.
"Ye begin to forget." He muttered, "Losing who you were, bit by bit, till ye end up like poor Wyvern here." He pointed to one of the lanterns hanging from the wall.
Will glanced at the patch of wall and did a double take as he caught sight of an ancient weatherbeaten face almost hidden by the rot and coral. So aged and wrinkled was it that Will had thought it a carving that existed as part of the ship's woodwork. Yet as he looked harder at the man's face, he could vaguely discern where his neck and arms were, one of them permanently raised high as the lantern in his hand was solidified onto it by a mass of black…Will was unsure what it was, but it looked like hardened and filthy candlewax.
"Once you've sworn an oath to the Dutchman, there's no leaving it," Bootstrap explained grimly, his eyes welling with pity for his son's aghast expression. "Not until your debt is paid."
"I have sworn no oath," Will murmured, and Bootstrap sucked in a sharp breath as he desperately gripped his son's arm.
"Then you must get away." He whispered, but Will shook his head.
"I can't. My... someone I care about... someone very dear to me…" he gulped. "She's…she has a deal with Jones."
"She?" Bootstrap frowned, but then suddenly, his eyes widened. "Peggy?"
Will nodded, his gut twisting as he remembered that his father had known Peggy long before him. He was unsure what he would call the feeling jealousy…but it felt odd. He was not sure how to explain it. Envy perhaps? Envy that she had fond memories of the man when Will hardly knew him despite being his flesh and blood.
"Jack told me that the two of ye were close." Will felt his heart ache as his father's eyes sparkled in joy. "But he did not tell me the two of you were together. I should have known – I see the look in yer eye. The same I had when I met yer mother."
Then why didn't you stay with her? Why did you leave her behind with me if you loved her so much? Why did you leave us? Will wanted to say it out loud, but he squashed down the words hard. Now was not the time to rehash that old wound, as painful as it was.
"But if you two came here together," Bootstrap continued, stroking his chin. That must mean you're that married couple Jones brought aboard tonight."
"Yeah…that's us," Will grunted awkwardly, feeling his ears burn with embarrassment. Why did everyone on this ship think that he and Peggy were married? Then he remembered what Jones had said when he brought Peggy aboard…he had mentioned Jack…
Had Jack told the Devil that Will and Peggy were married?
Why? What good would that lie serve to Will's mission?
Whatever he's got planned, I don't think Jack would have told a lie like that if he didn't think it would work in our favour…or at least his favour. Will corrected himself as he fished into his pant pocket.
"That's why I came here. I need to free her. Jones tricked her into a deal and took her-"
"Aye, her pelt." Bootstrap nodded grimly. "The Captain keeps that under lock and key in his cabin. You'll be hard-pressed to find it without him noticing. A selkie's pelt is a rare treasure in these waters."
"How did you find out where it is?" Will frowned in wonderment to his father.
"I saw 'im with it once when old Silver down below sent me to deliver news on our stores a few weeks ago." Bootstrap reached up to the starfish on his face, which twitched and pulsed oddly at the memory. "I think he was tryin' to communicate with Peggy. I got punished for interruptin' him. Keeps it in a chest made of pure silver. Don't know where he keeps the key for it though."
Will nodded, quickly cataloguing that information. Good. At least he had a lead on one objective.
"And what about this?" Will held out the piece of cloth with the drawing of the old key. "The key."
There was a gasp, and Will and Bootstrap turned sharply to see a pair of murky, half-blind green eyes snap open in Wyvern's ancient face on the wall.
Will watched in horrified fascination as, with a strange creaking and crackling sound, Wyvern pried half of his withered coral and barnacle-covered body from the wall, leaving his brains and internal organs embedded into the ship's surface.
"The Dead Man's Chest." Wyverns' voice was as thin as paper and as wispy as the tiniest gust of wind as he looked down at the picture of the key in Will's hand.
"What do you know of this?" Will tilted the cloth towards the elder's face so he could see it better in the light of his lantern.
"Open the chest with the key," Wyvern mused, his voice distant as if trying to recall something from so very long ago "And stab the heart – no – no – Don't stab the heart!" he urged, eyes wide with dread at what he just said. "The Dutchman needs a living heart or there'll be no captain, and if there's no captain, there's no one to have the key."
"So the captain has the key?" Will urged but Wyvern flinched away from his eager face as if his words burned him. "where is the key?"
"Hidden," Wyvern whispered, his voice frightened as if the very Devil would crawl out of the woodwork to condemn him.
"Where is the chest?" Will tried prompting again.
"H-hidden." Wyvern breathed as he let himself melt back into the wall, his body moulding back into the wood and damp sea flotsam. He shut his eyes and his mouth, hardly moving even as Will quietly tried hissing his name.
After a few tries, Will realised the old man was literally and figuratively not going to budge.
"Yeah…he does that sometimes." Bootstrap sighed in exasperation, reaching out to take his son by the shoulder. "You should go down to your girl. You're in no state to continue working like this."
"What about you?" Will frowned at his father, who shrugged.
"I'll continue my shift. The captain might not blink an eye at you going down below to lick your wounds, but two of us…he'll get suspicious." he trailed off, and Will nodded in understanding.
"I'll…I'll see you later then," Will grunted as he turned, slumped down the stairs and into the blackness of the Flying Dutchman.
Tia Dalma smiled as she looked into her bowl of seawater and watched Will Turner stumble desperately through the bowls of the Flying Dutchman. His back was bleeding, but she could see from here his heart was ablaze with fire.
Finally, the wheels of fate were turning the right way. It had taken her a long time to manoeuvre the pieces so that the board ran in her favour, but it was all proving to be worth the risk. If the boy held to his promises and his heart, he would do well in playing his part.
The Voodoo Sea Witch exhaled heavily as she focused on moving her gaze to the red-haired woman cooking at a stove in the Dutchman's kitchen. Merely being so close to her pelt was doing her a world of good. Tia Dalma could only imagine how relieved the poor selkie would be of her burden when she finally wore it.
Still, for now, it was a start…
"Soon chil', soon ya will be whole again. Just don' give up yet. Not when ya so close." Tia Dalma's dark eyes burned as she clutched the silver crab musical box on the table beside her scrying bowl "Den we will both have our revenge."
"Ah, lad. You're early."
Peggy looked up from her spot by the stove as she splashed water on the fire below. She had been stirring a large pot of stew when Silver's voice had pierced her thoughts. It had been hours since Will's shift had started, and it would not be long till it was over. Soon, he and his fellow crewmates would be down and tired and ready for food and rest.
In the meantime, Peggy kept herself busy, taking stock of the stores, preparing the next meal, and somehow managing to repair a couple of shirts that had been brought to her.
From what she could see of the bloodstains in the material, the clothing must have been looted from the recent kills the crew had made aboard the scuttled ship earlier that night.
She shook her head as she turned to watch Will enter the kitchen, determined not to think about the grim chore, only to freeze at the sight of the blacksmith.
His face was pale, and his shirt was ripped open at the back. He took a timid and cautious step toward her, leaning forward to catch himself on the wall.
Then Peggy smelled the blood.
"Will!" She quickly left her cooling stew to dash towards him, nearly squeaking in alarm as he all but fell into her arms. "Will, what happened?"
"Whip." He grunted, his feet slipping as she hauled him onto the makeshift straw bed and sat him down clumsily.
He groaned as she crawled to sit behind him on the bed and began pulling off his vest.
"Will, please don't squirm." She growled as Will tried to shrug her off. "Let me see that-"
"I'm fine, Peg!" he grunted as he tried turning away from her, only to cry out as his back twisted and one of the wounds strained. "Don't! I just need to lie down and sleep it off."
"Not until I've had a look."
"Peg! It's not that bad-"
"I'll be the judge of that, William Turner." Peggy spat, a hint of fang baring as she managed to remove his vest and his shirt, only to gasp as the two halves split asunder under her light touch.
However, Peggy hardly cared about the ruined garment. Her eyes were on the five bleeding gashes carved into Will's tanned back.
"Oh, Will."
Will shut his eyes in dismay as he saw her water slightly. Incredible, he was supposed to protect her, yet she still bore his burdens.
"It's my fault. I didn't secure the mast tackle in time," Will muttered before she could open her mouth. "The cannon we used to offset the weight nearly crushed the crew."
"But no-one got hurt?" Peggy gulped down on her tears as she tried to pull herself together.
"No…not as far as I know." Will sighed, leaning forward so his elbows rested on his knees. "But the punishment was-ah!" he hissed in pain as her fingers accidentally grazed one of the marks.
"Don't! I said I'm fine!" he snapped, swatting away at Peggy as she opened her mouth to apologise. But before she could chide him for his childishness, Silver steamrolled over her in a surprisingly sharp, authoritative tone:
"Enough of that boy! Turn around and let me see the damage." The tone was so final, deadly, that Will shivered.
With a grunt, he reluctantly turned his back to face the older sailor, who squinted at the injuries.
"Hmm, don't seem too deep. Not the Bosun's handiwork. Oy girl, fetch some water, lemons, honey and bandages, there should be a needle and thread in there too just in case. There's a good lass."
Peggy nodded dutifully as she quickly dashed down the stairs into the storeroom, leaving Will to glower at the old cursed sailor in the chair.
"Thank you for the concern, but I'm sure I'll"
"Boy, shut it." Silver cut across him sternly, and though his body seemed frail, his brown eyes were sharp like swords. "If ye don't treat yer wounds on this ship, you'll end up with more barnacles than ye can take. The more of yerself ye lose, the less human ye become."
Will shut his mouth, horror and disgust filling him. Was this how the rest of the Dutchman crew became so hideously mutated? As all physical traces of their humanity were stripped away, the ocean's curse came and took its place.
At least with Barbossa's crew, it was a sudden change that could be undone with a finger…but this slow, unholy torture.
"Good ye finally understandin' something." Silver scoffed. "Now get that useless shirt off and lie on yer front. And when that girl gets back, ye better apologise fer yer cheek and let her heal you properly. She been worrying herself sick down here about ye, and now she's trying to help you; this is how ye treat her? By shoutin' at her and shovin' her around?"
"I wasn't trying to be ungrateful." Will snapped. "I was just…I don't want her to fret-"
"She's yer woman." Silver quirked a brow. "That's her job. Ter fret and care for ye in sickness and health the same way ye would do fer her. An' take it from me boy, you better take any care she can give ye because there ain't any other on this ship who would do the same for ye. Do ye know how many men aboard this ship would kill to be in yer place right now? Ter have someone love them so much they'd risk the Devil's wrath ter protect ye? Ye have a real treasure in yer hands. Don't toss it aside because yer pride got knocked around a bit. Now take off yer shirt and lie down on yer front. Don't make her job any harder than it already is."
Will stayed silent as he obeyed the stern command, his head bowed in shame, and he buried his face into his arms and lay down on his front. Though he could not possibly understand their entire situation, the old sailor's words hit him with the force of a battering ram.
His pride? Since when was his pride…but no…no, Silver was right. Will felt his gut sink as he heard Peggy's footsteps rush back towards the stairs.
There was a thud of a tray on wood, and Will felt Peggy's body heat settle beside him as she sat on the edge of the bed to examine the wounds again. God, she was warm. It took everything he had to stay still and not curl into her lap like a cat.
"Will?" Peggy timidly touched his shoulder.
"He's awake. Start treatin' him. I'll keep watch on the stove." Silver snorted, and for this, Will was grateful. He was not quite ready to face Peggy's upset face just yet.
"Tell me if it's too much, okay." Peggy gently stroked the top of his head,d and he nodded mutely to show he heard her.
The process was painful, not just physically. Will was almost glad of the cuts on his back because it allowed him to hide his wretched guilt.
Here she was offering him her help despite the fact it could put her in danger, and he was making her job harder by rejecting her aid and being a stubborn ass. Yes, he did not want to add to her burden, but pushing her away was only hurting her more. He could try and blame the pain of his wounds for his sour mood, along with the confusion still swirling in his gut from his father's re-emergence in his life, but even then, Will knew he had no excuse. Pain or no pain, anger or no anger, he had treated her poorly.
He had never done so to Elizabeth or any other person. He would politely assure them he was fine, or civilly decline help. But with Peggy…he had shoved her away so with such ease…as if it were second nature to snap at her so crudely.
How many years had he been doing this? When had he gotten so comfortable dismissing her concern for him? Then, to top it off, when she wanted her privacy to heal, he felt like he had a right to shove his concern for her down her throat.
I'm such a fool. He buried his face into his arms, his body wincing and tensing as she finished cleaning his wounds and began applying a salve of honey and lemon to each cut. All I do nowadays is hurt her. Still, she looks after me like this.
He groaned as Peggy smoothed some salve over one of the slightly deeper cuts on his back.
"Sorry," Peggy murmured tremulously as she pulled away to examine the remainder of her work. The wounds were shallow enough that they would not need stitches, but they still stung nastily. He was lucky he had not gone into shock. "Almost there, Will. Almost there."
Will's fingers gripped the sheets below tight as she resumed treatment, her fingers feather light as she did her best not to press down on the cut or bruised skin.
Such a gentle touch. He sucked in a deep breath to steady himself as she finished applying the salve, the combination of honey, lemon juice and seawater making his back burn and tingle as it disinfected the damaged skin.
"Will, do you think you could sit up?" Peggy stroked away his curls from his face. "I need to tie the bandages around you now."
Will nodded, cursing himself as his face leaned into her tender touch so eagerly, chasing the familiar warmth and softness even as he turned over to his side. And it wasn't just her hands on his face he chased. Every piece of skin she made contact with tingled and burned under her touch as she helped him sit up and began wrapping bandages around his chest.
"Not too tight, is it?" She murmured, and Will shook his head, feeling his cheeks burn as her fingers danced across his skin.
He remembered all the other times she had tended to his injuries…then the way she had touched him during that dinner before the fight at Isla De Muerta. The tender way she had held his hands, the graze of her lips against his, even when drunk…the warmth of her mouth against his when they had kissed by accident two days ago…
He remembered the day of Jack's execution when he had taken her aside to talk with her…how when she had breathed his name, he had found himself staring at her lips as his thumb had brushed them by accident, marvelling at their softness.
Or had it been an accident?
Now that Will thought about it, her touch had often made his skin tingle, even as an adolescent. It was one of the big reasons he had started holding back on hugging her and being tender with her in public when he was eighteen…when he had begun to notice how beautiful a woman she had become.
He remembered that day most clearly. He had returned home from the forge one evening, and she was alone in the tiny apartment, so she had not shut her bedroom door as she was changing. She was just as lovely then as she had been on the beach two days ago. Even just thinking about both instances made his stomach do strange things. Strange but pleasant things.
Two years ago, he had thought it was just his male body reacting to a woman's touch because of sin and temptation. Yet he had seen women in Tortuga bear just as much skin, which hardly affected him. His heart fluttered when he saw Elizabeth in her glorious wedding dress, but seeing Peggy standing on the deck at sunrise on the Black Pearl in her weathered shirt and breeches had him spellbound.
He chanced a peek up at her as she busied herself, tying a knot at the end of her handiwork to secure his bindings. Despite his misery, his heart swelled in his chest as he saw her brow furrow and her lips purse as she concentrated. How many times had he seen that expression on her face when she was scrubbing a stubborn stain on one of his shirts?
For one shining moment, Will could not see the dank, dark, depressing kitchen of Flying Dutchman. All he could see around them was him on his bed back at their old apartment while Peggy tended his bruises by the light of a dismal candle, pouting in concentration or snarling under her breath about Mister Brown.
"Will?" Peggy frowned as she looked up from her handiwork to see her friend's current state. She found him staring at her unblinkingly.
His gaze was oddly distant and wistful, yet intense. His eyes drifted down her face, drinking in all her features as if he were seeing them clearly for the first time.
She opened her mouth to ask him if he was in pain, only to blush as she noticed his gaze flicker down to her mouth. Her stomach jolted as she became aware of how close she had let herself get to him. They were nearly nose to nose now…and Will leaned in further as if to…
What am I doing?
Peggy quickly pulled back, eyes downcast as she shook her head. No…she was just being silly. Will was probably still in pain. Besides, why would he want to kiss her when he was betrothed to his beloved Elizabeth?
"All done, " she murmured, her eyes averted and completely ignoring the stricken expression on Will's face as she pulled away. "You should lie down and rest. Dinner will be ready soon."
"What about you?" Will asked softly, taking one of her hands in his. "You need to sleep too."
"I'll sleep after the next watch comes down and eats." She shrugged, but Will could see the bags under her tired and puffy eyes. "There must be a spare hammock somewhere."
"Hammock?" Will frowned. "Just sleep next to me-"
"Will, you need space to rest properly-"
"So do you." Will's hand gripped hers tighter. "There's more than enough space for us both if we sleep on our sides, and if you sleep in the crew quarters, you'll be in danger-"
"Boy's right." Silver grunted from his spot by the fire. "This is the safest place for ye girl, and ye'll be doing yer friend Bootstrap a disservice if ye don't accept the kindness he showed ye. Now, if ye two don't mind, I will settle back in for another nap. Do try to keep the noise down." He waved Peggy and Will off as he slumped back in his chair.
It was almost impressive how swiftly he started to snore as soon as he had pulled his fur blanket high enough on his lap.
"That geezer could sleep through a hurricane sent by Zeus." Peggy rolled her eyes at the elderly cursed sailor as he opened his mouth and saliva dribbled out of the side.
Will, however, was a little more bitter as he said:
"You knew my father was alive?"
"Not until tonight. Silver told me just after you left." Peggy bit her lip only to blink in surprise at him. "Wait…how did you-"
"I met him up on deck." Will grunted, lip curling in bitterness as his back prickled at the memory "You haven't seen him yet?"
Peggy shook her head. "I've been stuck in here. When Silver told me he was alive, I could hardly believe it. I was…I hoped to see him when he came off his shift…I…I haven't seen him since the mutiny…I never thanked him for trying to save me-"
"Save you?" Will narrowed his eyes.
"When Koehler and Twigg came to grab me from my cabin, your father stood in their way. He tried to stop them throwing me overboard, but he got knocked out. That was the last I saw of him before he…and it was one of the reasons Barbossa ordered him to…to…" She trailed off, gulping down on the lump in her throat.
Will's heart felt heavy in his chest as the gravity of her words sunk like a stone in the ocean.
"You never mentioned that before…" he mumbled.
"I thought if you knew about my part in his death…you'd…you'd hate me." She whispered. "If I had just woken up sooner, I could have helped him-"
Her words were cut off as Will, ignoring the searing pain in his back, wrapped his arms around her tight.
"It's not your fault."
"Will-"
"It's not your fault. So please don't feel guilty." Will kissed her forehead bracingly, breathing in the smell of her hair and relishing in the feel of her skin against his even as the cold metal of her-wait, cold metal?
"Will, what's wrong?" Peggy frowned, her eyes still teary, as Will quickly pulled back and looked her up and down.
Finally, his eyes landed on her chest where her silver and abalone shell necklace hung.
"Where did you get that?" he asked, tilting his head curiously. "You weren't wearing that when we came aboard."
"I…I think Jack left it to me before I left the Pearl," Peggy whispered. "He snuck it down my shirt. One last dig at me, I guess…for betraying him." Peggy added morosely, only to feel Will's fingers graze her sternum as he reached out to take the oval pendant in his hand and turn it over.
"I don't think so." Will examined the piece critically: "I saw him fiddling with it just before I came to see you in your nook. He tried to fit something inside but wouldn't show me what it was. Whatever he's up to, I don't think he'd have left it to you without a purpose…nor would he abandon you as easily as this."
"I don't know about that. Jack can be very vengeful when he wants to be."
"Not when it comes to you." Will shook his head. "I've seen it, Peg. You're probably one of the few things he cares about other than rum and that ship of his. Even after everything, I don't think he'll give you up without a fight. Hell, you could kill Gibbs, and Jack would probably forgive you and let you get away with it-"
"Will…you didn't see him this time. I really hurt him-"
"Hurt or not, Jack won't abandon you. I know it. Here, I'll prove it."
"I'm not so sure about it this time", Peggy sniffed, curiosity winning over her lingering grief as Will carefully fiddled with the clasp on the front of the locket. "Besides, you can't fit much in there save a lock of hair."
Click!
"Or a small piece of paper." Will smiled triumphantly as he held the pendant out in his palm, open and waiting for her. There, already unfolding on its own, was a small square of parchment.
"I'll never figure out how you manage that with those big fingers of yours," Peggy muttered mulishly, and Will smirked fondly down at her annoyed pout.
"Trade secret. Now take it quickly." He glanced warily at Silver, who was still snoring in his chair. "Before he wakes up."
Peggy took the paper and quickly unfolded it, her watering eyes spilling over as her eyes swept down the small scrap of paper.
"Jack…" She breathed as she scanned the page again, eyes wide in awe and disbelief. "You bastard. You utter bastard."
"What does it say?" Will stared in alarm, only to find the paper thrust into his hands.
Will looked at the paper, eyes straining as he tried to discern Jacks' tiny chicken scratch in black ink.
"Nice try, Pegsy. Thought you could pull the wool over my eyes, did you? Well you thought wrong.
That squid-faced bastard may own your soul, but you're still MY cabin girl, you brat.
If you want to make it up to me, you better find me that key and return to the Pearl when you're done.
Make sure your whelp doesn't get himself into any more trouble. I ain't cleaning up any more of his messes.
– Jack.
P.S. Give Jones hell and show him no quarter. Captain's orders."
"I'm going to kill him," Peggy mumbled as Will looked up at her and was surprised to see that though she was once again crying, there was the faintest hint of a smile. "If I see him again, I'm going to bloody kill him."
"I told you he wouldn't abandon you." Will grinned as he cupped her cheek and kissed her head. "And neither will I. We'll find that key together and your pelt, and you'll be free."
"You really shouldn't," Peggy whispered into his shoulder. "You're already in enough trouble because of me as it stands. If Jones finds out-"
"He won't. And if he does, I'll take the fall."
"Will, he'll kill you, or worse, he'll-"
"It's a risk I'm willing to take," Will whispered fiercely, wiping away her tears. And before you say anything about dying or the Selkie bond, let me say this: Whatever happens after we find the key and your pelt, at least you'll be free. Of course, I'm still going to save you. And I will. Don't you dare say it's impossible, " he added fiercely when she opened her mouth to object. "You just thought Jack couldn't forgive you after you betrayed him, yet he still trusts you. So believe me when I say we will make it through this. We will." He leaned his forehead against hers as she sighed in exasperation.
"And if I do die. Will, don't! You know it could happen."
"Then I guess I'll have to follow you to the afterlife and drag you back home." Will snorted, and Peggy rolled her eyes.
"You…" she sucked in a sharp breath to soothe her frustration. "You are the most stubborn, stupid man I have ever met."
"Yes, I am..." Will muttered, his mind sparking as he remembered her words from that night in the Black Pearl's dining room as he murmured into her crown. "I'm your stubborn, stupid man."
"But Elizabeth-" Peggy started to say, but Will sighed.
"She might be my fiancé…but I have been – have always been, your idiot…yours." He mouthed that last word so quietly Peggy did not hear it.
"Hmm? What?" her brow furrowed, only for her to jolt in shock as someone banged loudly on the kitchen door.
"OY! GIRL! WHERE ARE OUR RATIONS? WE'RE STARVIN'!"
"Go…" Will whispered, wincing as he twisted his injured back. "I'm going to lie down for a bit."
"You should eat something, " Peggy said, biting her lip as she stood and dusted herself off.
"So should you." Will shot back, quirking his brow as she shrugged.
"I'll eat after I'm done serving."
"Then I'll eat with you."
"The food will be cold by then."
"Knowing you're cooking, it'll still be delicious." Will took her hands in his and kissed the backs of them warmly. "I'm sorry I was acting so beastly earlier."
"It's okay."
"No, it's not." Will shook his head. "I should not have snapped at you like that, no matter how much pain I was in. I swear, I will do better by you in the future."
"OY GIRLIE COME ON! HURRY UP!" a man's voice yelled on the other side of the door, waking Silver up with an undignified spluttering snort.
"Ey?! Whoosaat yellin'?" the old man grunted, glowering at Will and Peggy irritably. "Come on, girl, ye can canoodle with yer beau later. You got a job to do now."
"Aye, Mister Silver." Peggy blushed in embarrassment, quickly extracting her hands from Will's, her heart hammering in her chest even as she opened the door to admit the queue of tired and grouchy undead sailors for their dinner.
"Captain? Captain, can I come in?" Gibbs gulped as he quietly poked his head inside the door of his captain's quarters
It had been a few hours since the Black Pearl had left the Flying Dutchman behind, Will and Peggy along with it.
Ay, lass, what have ye gone and gotten yourself messed up with? Gibbs shook his head as Jack grunted and waved a hand at him to enter.
The Captain was sitting in a chair, his feet resting on his small wooden desk over the top of a stack of maps that had once been neatly organised by Peggy's careful hand earlier in the day. To Gibb's surprise, the man seemed oddly calm and collected.
Now, Gibbs did not expect Jack to trash his living quarters. No, the captain's rage was rarely, if ever, violent unless he had drunk too much rum. But to be this calm and, dare he say it, at ease, especially after losing someone as precious to him as his cabin girl…something didn't add up. Gibbs felt rather like he had missed something very important and was not sure he liked it.
"Still up and about, Mister Gibbs."
"Can't sleep," Gibbs grunted, holding two bottles of rum. "And I figured you couldn't either. So, I figured, if neither of us can sleep, we might as well have a friendly nightcap. Could use it after all the chaos of today."
"No arguments there, mate." Jack nodded, accepting a bottle from his oldest friend, who sat at the edge of his desk and took a long swig.
"The crew all bitchin' and moanin' about what I did to Pegsy ey?" Jack sighed after a sip.
"Some of them. That Sloane boy is steamin' mad that ye let her go. He may just kill ye the next time he sees ye." Gibbs added, and Jack snorted into his bottle, gesturing for the old sailor to continue, "A couple are bitchin' about her betrayin' us. Seem to think that we should have seen it comin' with her bein' a redhead an' all that."
"But you don't feel angry at her at all?" Jack frowned with intrigue.
"Red hair bein' bad luck. Yes, I do believe it." Gibbs snorted, taking another hearty swig. "But Peggy bein' a traitor? No. Say what ye will about Selkies an' their witchcraft, but I don't believe a girl like Peggy would have joined a monster like Jones for a second…at least not of her own free will."
"That's what I thought too," Jack murmured, and Gibbs nearly choked on his rum. "The brat's too soft-hearted to follow a captain like him."
"You knew?!" Gibbs spluttered, coughing roughly as rum went down the wrong pipe. "You knew she was working for Jones all this time?!"
"Knew? Of course, I knew." Jack scoffed, waving Gibbs off irritably. "Saw the mark on her scrawny wrist the night we escaped Pelecostos. Silly girl was too busy drinking and crying over the bloody whelp to notice it wasn't covered up."
"And ye just let her go back to the Devil?" Gibbs stared incredulously at him. "Unless…wait, she's not in on the plan with Turner, is she? Because I swear, we didn't discuss this."
"She's part of the plan, yes," Jack answered carefully. "Like you said, we needed a second man on the inside to help the whelp in his search. Who better than Pegsy? Jones was taking her anyway, and yeah, bloody stupid Will broke her heart, but the two of them are a good team, all things considered." He admitted almost bitterly. "But no…she was not in on the plan. She will be now if everything's gone right and she's found me message-"
"But she was not in the know when ye talked with Jones?" Gibbs frowned. "Bit of a risk ye took there, Jack. Hoodwinkin' the devil himself-"
"That's exactly why I had to risk it." Jack clipped, "The girl has always been shit at lying. Jones would have seen her act from a mile off if she was faking it. Had to make it look as real as possible if it's going to work."
"She'll kill you when this is all over." Gibbs chuckled. "When she realises that you tugged her heartstrings like that."
"Nah, mate, she won't," Jack smirked smugly as he raised his rum bottle to his lips again. "Oh yeah, she might smack me around a bit, but she loves me too much to kill me."
Gibbs shook his head, knowing that while his captains' words were valid, Peggy's wrath would be something to behold. She always hated being on the receiving end of Jack's manipulations. He'd be receiving more than an earful for this one.
"So…you're not angry with her after all? Not really?"
"What angry? With Pegsy? Of course, I'm bloody angry!" Jack scoffed bitterly. "Stupid selkie brat goes and makes a deal with the devil behind my back. What's she thinkin' ey? Bloody hell, I wanted to wring her neck when I saw that mark on her. Jones don't give that to just anyone, ye know. That's only for the really disobedient crew that gets deep into the shits. How the hell did Pegsy, of all people, get into such bad debt with the Devil? Even I don't have that mark after all I did!"
"Well, she was supposed to spy on ye for thirteen years." Gibbs shrugged. "And she only did that for two and a half. The rest she spent with Turner."
"That bloody whelp," Jack muttered. "So he breaks her heart and signs her death warrant twice? And she still loves him? Now I'm really pissed." He took a swig and sighed, and Gibbs frowned as a sudden thought seized him.
"Selkie..."
"What?" Jack looked up from his bottle of rum and saw Gibbs staring into the contents of his drink with a thoughtful expression.
"Davy Jones is a ferryman for dead human souls, right?"
"Correct," Jack nodded, gesturing for Gibbs to continue.
"Well, Pegsy ain't dead, nor is she a human. She's a child of the ocean, an' from what the legends of Davy Jones say, he ain't allowed to touch the children of the oceans. Unless-"
"Unless they make a deal that satisfies the old ways of the ocean, yes," Jack confirmed, rolling his eyes as memories of his old, gnarly grandmother forcing him to read a gigantic tome filled his mind's eye. Boy, he did not miss those days at all. "Where's this goin' Gibbs?"
"Well," Gibbs coughed and cleared his throat "Ye don't think he has her pelt, do ye? From what I remember of the old tales, once a man has a selkie's pelt, they are bound-"
"-to his will." Jack finished softly, eyes glazing in wonderment. So that was why they had never found her pelt. She was not keeping it a secret from them. She had no access to it while that old squid-faced monster kept it under lock and key.
"Well, whatever Jones has done with her pelt, knowin' that blighter, he's probably got it on the Dutchman with him or else Pegs would have gone to find it by now. Selkies are pretty sensitive to that sorta thing. An' I can't see Jones keepin' such a valuable treasure too far from reach, not when he can use it to control her so easily. If she's goin' to get it back, she's on her own. Or that whelp can help her." Jack snorted scathingly. "He broke her heart; it's the least he can do to make it up to her, short of takin' her place and droppin' dead himself."
"Jack-"
"Oh, come on, don't tell me you bought his heartbroken act?"
"It ain't an act, Jack, an' ye know it. Yes, the lad is a bit of an idiot…well…no, he's a massive idiot." Gibbs corrected himself before quickly adding, "But he ain't the first young fool to break a woman's heart. He isn't the first stupid young man to break a selkie's heart, either. But at least he's tryin' to make things right. Even ye can't deny him that."
"Hmph! Just you watch me." Jack growled mutinously, and Gibbs sighed. On this point, he'd never reach out to Jack. The man was too personally involved for him to have any unimpaired judgment on the situation…though Gibbs could hardly blame him for that.
"So then…What do we do now?" the old sailor murmured, "Do we tell the crew-"
"Of course, we tell them. Can't have another mutiny on our hands because I left Pegsy to die," Jack grunted as he raised his bottle to his lips. "But first, mate, let's finish off this rum. Seems a shame to let it go to waste."
"Amen to that."
Notes:
PHEW! Here we are. Yes, I went for a monster of a chapter, but I could not find a point that felt natural to stop until that last bit.
On that note, naughty-naughty Jack! tricking poor Peggy into believing he was abandoning her. Well, it would not be the first time he manipulated other people, and he saw the mark on her wrist earlier (kudos to those who noticed that small detail). I incorporated the extended version of Will and Bootstraps conversation from the DMC deleted scenes, with a few extra details. And Will is finally getting off his arse and figuring SOMETHING out about his feelings for Peggy! God, it took him effing long enough! (Yes, I know, I'm the author, and I made him that way in this fic, but even I was getting sick of his obliviousness, and like Jack, I felt he needed the effing kick up the pants...or a smack around with the whip as it were). And finally, FINALLY, Peggy told Will everything. GHAH, I'm relieved to get that bit over and done.
My new OC Silver is a super-massive reference to Long John Silver from Treasure Island. I've been bing reading many of the old fiction classics recently since i realised i know a lot of pop culture references surrounding them but have never actually read much of them. I've just finished reading Dracula as I was getting hyped for Robert Eggers Nosferatu (which is excellent btw) and also finished reading Treasure Island which i enjoyed immensely. Long John is such a nuanced grey character, which is highly unusual for the genre and time it was published. In many ways, he's a lot like Jack Sparrow in that he's morally grey and does bad things for his selfish gain while still having a soft spot for the protagonist (though Jack decides to go in a more 'heroic' direction while Long John is more an antagonist). So far, my fave renditions of Long John Silver are from Disney's Treasure Planet (That film is gorgeous and deserves more love), the TV show Black Sails (just starting season 1, and I'm enjoying it) and, of course,, Muppet Treasure Island with Tim Curry (One of my fave childhood films). Actually, I always thought it was a shame Tim Currey never got to cameo in the POTC franchise. That alone would have been epic, but alas...that will never be...*sigh* oh well, I can still fan-cast him as Silver in this fic.
Speaking of Fan casting, who would you guys pick to cast as Peggy or Sloane? I've been trying to figure it out in my head, but can't pick actors that would fit their appearance-wise.
But enough about me gushing on and on. It might be a while before I post again because I have a few things happening over the next few weeks that will take up a lot of time. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this monster of a chapter.
Please keep reviewing, faving, following and reading for more if you enjoyed it.
Thanks
FuzzyBeta
Chapter 25: A Roll of the Dice
Summary:
"Ye can't beat the Devil twice, son."
"Then why are you walking away?"
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
"Come all you young sailor men, listen to me
I'll sing you a song of the fish in the sea
And it's windy weather, boys, stormy weather, boys
When the wind blows, we're all together, boys
Blow ye winds westerly, blow ye winds, blow
Jolly sou'wester, boys, steady she goes
Up jumps the eel with his slippery tail
Climbs up aloft and reefs the topsail
And it's windy weather, boys, stormy weather, boys
When the wind blows, we're all together, boys
Blow ye winds westerly, blow ye winds, blow
Jolly sou'wester, boys, steady she goes."*
Will Turner winced as he rolled onto his side to hear the familiar song waft into his ears. It had been a long time since Peggy had sung this shanty. Or at least it had been a long time since he heard her sing it, for it was a song she often sang whenever she made dinner, and Will had hardly had time to spend with her around dinnertime for many years.
He never thought he'd wake up to her singing again. Thinking he'd hear it here on the Flying Dutchman was more than he could ever have dreamed of.
He opened her eyes and smiled as he saw Peggy sitting on the edge of their makeshift bed, her back facing him. Her curls were drawn back into a long, messy plait that fell down her back. His heart clenched in fondness as his gaze trailed over each stray curl that rebelled against being bound in place.
She had never been able to tame it, even when they had been children. She had often bemoaned that it would never be as prim or perfect as the other girls, but Will had liked every strand of it the way it was. It was always so soft whenever he pressed his face into it or ran his fingers through it, and though he knew it could be a hassle when working, he liked the way it would stream behind her and fly in the wind like a small fire.
Unbidden, the memory of her bathing on the beach of Cannibal's Island floated over his mind. He gulped as he suddenly imagined her bare, freckled back seated before him, her curls flying wildly about her shoulders and soft curves. At the same time, her gentle singing wafted into his ears on the sea breeze.
He quickly shook his head as he felt his gut squirm oddly but pleasantly, and his fingers twitched in longing to reach out and-
No…as lovely as she had been, thinking of her in such an inappropriate way when they were in such danger…while he was still engaged to another…
God, Jack was right; I am scum.
He sighed to himself as he glanced down to her hands where she held a large white cloth and a needle and thread-
My shirt. Will realised as her nimble fingers pulled and pushed the needle through the torn material. That's right, the crew of the Dutchman had ripped it apart before his father had…
Will shut his eyes and sucked in a deep soothing breath to calm himself.
"Will?"
Will felt his face relax as Peggy's familiar fingers gently stroked a stray lock of hair away from his face. Still, Will kept his eyes shut, basking in her touch. He knew it was wrong of him to fake being asleep, but he knew she'd stop being so tender the second she saw him awake. It seemed she saved her affection for him now only when he couldn't see it. Why?
Don't be dim, Will Turner. You know exactly why.
He scolded himself, shutting his eyes and letting himself sink into the feel of her and the bed.
Yes, he knew it was wrong of him to want this, but it had been so long since it was just the two of them like this, and he did not want it to end-
Rat-tat-tat.
Too late. Will grimaced as Peggy's hand pulled away. Still pretending to sleep, Will only opened his eyes a crack to peer through his lashes at Peggy as she turned her head to greet the newcomer to the kitchen.
Will stiffened as he caught sight of his father, William "Bootstrap Bill" Turner's pale face, peeking into the room with a fretful glance.
"Silver? Silver, are you awake? Where's…William…" Bootstrap's voice fell away, and his face slackened in shock as he saw Peggy sitting beside Will's prone form on the bed. "Peggy?"
"Bootstrap?" Peggy breathed, and Will was astonished to hear the tremble in her voice.
There was a pause as the selkie and the older sailor stared at one another, Will gulping as the air thickened in the kitchen with anticipation.
Tears pricked the corners of Peggy's eyes as they swept over his father's pale, waterlogged face, taking in each feature, new and old, from the paleness of his familiar eyes and the starfish that throbbed nastily on his right temple like a wound.
Will wondered what she was thinking. Was she happy to see his father? Sad? From what little she had shared with him about her time with the elder Turner, she seemed to have been fond of him. Then he remembered the sorrow in her eyes as she had explained their last parting, and his heart ached with pity.
How long had she spent feeling guilty for her part in his father's fate? How must she have felt discovering her friend of ten years was the man's son? How must she have felt now after discovering he, too, was suffering under the thumb of the Devil that imprisoned her?
No wonder her heart had broken so brutally after his stupidity. She was carrying so much grief and pain on her shoulders already. Now that Will thought about it, when was the last time he had ever seen Peggy truly carefree? Even during their happiest moments, he often saw her face cloud momentarily with uncertainty and sadness.
"It's been a long time." Bootstrap's voice was hoarse as the ghost of a smile flickered over his pale face. "You're all grown up."
"And you're...alive..." Peggy gulped as Bootstrap chuckled softly.
"As alive as one can be on this tub." He looked at her face, and the smile grew wider. "Speakin' of living, I could hardly believe it when Jack told me ye survived, let alone he'd know my son."
"Believe me, I was just as surprised by that connection." Peggy snorted and Will shut his eyes as she stroked his bare shoulder, her touch leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. "Then again, you always did say that if we met, we'd get along like a house on fire."
"I did." Bootstrap nodded. "Never thought you'd both end up married, though."
"Yeah...yeah, that was another surprise," Peggy muttered with only a hint of irony as she stood to her feet, her warmth leaving Will's side.
Will opened his eyes a fraction and watched as Peggy strode towards his father and tightly wrapped her arms around him. The sight might have made his stomach broil had it not been for the small sob that reached his ears.
"I'm so sorry, Bootstrap. I'm so sorry for what happened-"
"Aw, no need for that lass. No need for that." Bootstrap patted her on the back with a sigh. "I'm just sorry I couldn't stop ye from being tossed overboard like that. Thank goodness selkies are made of strong stuff. It's a high drop from the deck of the Pearl."
Will grimaced to himself at the words. The Pearl was not a big ship like the Dauntless or the Painted Lady, but she was tall enough that being thrown over the side would hurt. That his father would have been thrown off so brutally with a cannonball stuck to his legs...or that Peggy would be thrown from such a height when she had been so small…
"So how did you find out?" Peggy scrubbed hard at her eyes as she pulled away from her old friend. "I never told anyone about being a selkie. Even Will did not find out until a few months ago."
"Saw you transform once at the end of one of our stops at Tortuga. I looked over the side of the Pearl, and ye were in one of the longboats squirmin' an' tryin' ter get dressed. Barely ten minutes later, Jack came around shirtless and snapped about how a cheeky seal pup stole his best shirt." Bootstrap chuckled, and Peggy smiled as she remembered that day. "It wasn't hard to figure it out from that."
"You already knew about selkies?"
"Aye, a clan of them lived not too far from where I grew up. Never came into much contact with them, mind you." He added grimly. "Only saw them from a distance sometimes as a lad, coming up onto the beach ter dry off in the sun, but they'd always slip back into the ocean the second they saw any of us lads sneakin' up for a peek. Lovely creatures, they were but secretive, not that I blame them," Bootstrap grunted sadly. "The crown and the EITC have been huntin' any creature from the old world for centuries or so me gran used to say."
"And yet you never said anything to me or Jack-"
"Didn't want you to get into trouble." Bootstrap mumbled, "Jack would've protected you, I'm sure. But the others...couldn't trust them. It was too dangerous. The less that knew, the better. Besides, it's dangerous enough for a normal little girl to live on a pirate ship without fearin' for the EITC coming after your blood."
"That's true." Peggy sighed, relief flooding her.
Will, however, felt a pang of bitterness sweep through him. While he was glad to hear his father had been a good man and had protected his friend and her secrets, his gut could not help but curdle at the thought that while his father had been out on the ocean looking after another child, Will had been struggling at home with his mother.
All those lonely years, wondering when his father would send a letter or walk through that front door.
All those lonely years, Will had been forced to stop playing with his friends and being a child so he could pick up odd jobs to earn enough so he and his mother would not starve.
All those months he had spent homeless after his mother had died, passing from ship to ship until he was brought alone to Port Royal.
All those long years growing up under the thumb of a man like Mister Brown, being talked down to or having bottles of rum thrown at his face, when he could have been out at sea with his father learning all he could from him.
Or what if Bootstrap had brought Peggy back home with him? Then, they both could have been raised in a loving, caring home.
He forced his thoughts back down as the tail end of Peggy's sentence wafted into his ears:
"-he's still a bit tired but I'm sure he'd be happy to see you."
"I doubt that." Bootstrap's shoulders sagged morosely, the light he had once had when seeing Peggy now dimming as they fell upon his son's bare feet, sticking out over the edge of the bed. "Not when I'm the reason he's hurt."
"What do you mean?" Peggy's brow furrowed.
"He didn't tell you?" Bootstrap frowned, and Peggy shook her head.
The older sailor sighed.
"I'm the one who whipped him, Pegs," Bootstrap muttered, avoiding her eye as guilt consumed his face. "I whipped my own son."
There was silence as Peggy looked at Bootstrap. Will could see the man's head turned down to the ground, his eyes averted like those of a frightened dog terrified of being kicked after being caught stealing a piece of food.
"Was it on the captain's orders?" Peggy asked carefully, and Bootstrap nodded, though he still avoided her eye.
"Yes. But that changes nothin'-"
"You say that, but we both know that there are plenty of people out there who'd willingly hurt their children for no real reason. And we both know you are not one of them. You never were." Peggy mumbled, and Will wondered if she was thinking about her father. Yet the more Will pondered on the idea, the less likely he thought Cutler Beckett would be the sort of man to use violence to discipline someone.
At least not by his hand.
No. Beckett seemed a more hands-off, cold and detached type that would prefer isolation and cruel words to an outright beating, though that, in some ways, was worse. At least with a beating, you could always know who to blame. Manipulative men like Beckett were always delighted to make someone else believe it was their fault for everything bad that happened to them.
"Is he...is he alright?" Bootstrap gulped. "He's not...I didn't-"
"He's fine." Peggy cut across the older sailor firmly but gently. "a bit scratched up and grouchy from the pain, but he'll heal up quickly. He's always been a tough one." She added, and Will was astonished by the fondness he heard in her voice as she shook her head. "Never could sit still even back home. Once, he got yellow fever, and I almost had to tie him to the bed to stop him from working. But he was stubborn to finish crafting that stupid sword even though he could hardly see straight."
Will almost smirked at the memory. He had been quite a massive pest at that time. It was one of his first commissions requested of him rather than Mister Brown, and he was so excited to get it done even after getting sick. At the time, he had been so peeved at Peggy for keeping him from working, but in hindsight, she probably saved him from getting even more sick or injuring himself with her firm but tender care.
"Stubborn like his mother." Bootstrap's smirk fell sadly. "I'll never forget the day he was born. Kat was in such pain, but she was so determined to push through and see him. And when he came into the world, he was so tiny." Bootstrap's eyes glistened as the memory swam across his vision. "They all said he'd never make it past the first week since he had come so early. But she never gave up on him. She always said he was born with that glint in his eye-"
"Still has it." Peggy chuckled fondly, and Will felt his chest warm as he saw her gaze soften considerably. "Probably the reason he's made it so far." She turned to pat the starfish on Bootstrap's cheek, her hand quickly coming up to settle his damp, dark hat over his hair. "I know I probably have no right to say this, but...I'm glad you're alive, Bootstrap. It's good to see you."
"It's good to see you too, Peggy." Bootstrap smiled fondly, reaching out to pat both her shoulders. "My god, I still can't get over how much you and William have grown. The last I saw of you both, you were barely past my waist."
"Yes, Will shot up like a weed when he was fourteen. Never let me forget it either." Peggy rolled her eyes, and Will smirked to himself.
He remembered when they were children, they would go home after Sunday church on the scenic route by the beach. He would hold her hair ribbon hostage above his head whenever they had a petty argument. She'd whine and pout as she climbed all over his laughing form to snatch it back, knocking them into the sand where they would tussle. She could always pin him down, if only because Will never could raise a hand to hurt her.
Those were simpler, happier days…
Then suddenly, no sooner did the smile threaten to take over his face, did his shredded back throb painfully. With a soft groan, Will turned onto his front and pushed his face into the pillow.
"Will?"
There was the thudding of feet as Peggy and Bootstrap rushed to his bedside. Will shivered as Peggy quickly pulled the blanket away to see his injured back.
"I'm fine." He mumbled, his voice hoarse and soft from exhaustion. "I just turned too fast."
"Still, I'm going to check." Peggy stroked his hair from his face. "We still don't know if they got infected."
Will wanted to object, but seeing her worried expression, he nodded with gritted teeth. No, he would not hurt her again, no matter how much pain he was in.
"I'll go get more water." Bootstrap coughed awkwardly. "You'll need to keep the wounds clean before you rebind the bandages."
"Thanks, Bootstrap." Peggy nodded gratefully.
Will, however, said nothing. He stared at the pillow beneath his head as he listened to his father shuffle down the stairs.
"I know he didn't mean for any of this," Will mumbled when his father was safely out of earshot. "It's just...it's tough seeing him again after all these years. And on top of that, he-"
"I know." Peggy stroked his cheek. "I felt the same way when I met my father two weeks ago. However, he did not have a whip to hand. Not that he'd ever be able to use it." She snorted "The man's arms are like twigs."
"His hands were very soft, too," Will snorted as he remembered the handshake with the man. It was firm but lacked the callouses that spoke of a hard day's work. "Even a pen must weigh him down like an anchor."
Will and Peggy paused to allow themselves a small chuckle at the thought of Cutler Beckett being dragged down to the sea floor by a massive pen.
"Do you think you could sit up, or do you want to keep lying down? I can still rebind your bandages in this position if you want-"
"No, I'll sit," Will grunted, pushing his hands beneath him. "Need to be up for a while.
With Peggy's help, he gingerly sat up once more, taking a moment to lean into her shoulder as his mind went fuzzy from the blood rushing from his head.
"Still dizzy?" She whispered into his ear, rubbing his bare shoulders soothingly.
Will nodded, feeling sick with himself as his body leaned into her and nuzzled his nose into the crook of her neck. As childish as it was, he just wanted to curl over her and not move for the rest of his life. Her arms were so safe…warm…and her smell…it…it was like being home again.
"Will?"
"Can we just sit like this for a bit?" he mumbled into her neck, wrapping his arms around her middle. "Please. Just a little bit."
Peggy bit her lip, cursing herself and her selkie heart for giving into his request before she could consult her brain. Will always got clingy whenever he was sick or injured…but after everything that had gone down between them, she had told herself that she needed to keep a distance. As much as she loved him, she could not let him take advantage of her feelings…not again…
And yet, while her mind rebelled, her body let him sink into her, enjoying his body heat and the way his lips pressed into the column of her throat.
He's just tired and in pain. Nothing more. Peggy sighed sadly, turning her face away to avoid looking over his shoulders at his back's lean, tanned muscles. He'd be doing this with Elizabeth if she were in my place. There's nothing special about how he's holding you, so cut it out and stop letting him get to you, Peggy Blake. He's just milking your bleeding heart again, and you're falling for it hook-line-and-sinker.
She was grateful that Bootstrap had returned to the hold with a jar of honey and a couple of lemons, if only because his presence distracted her from her heartbreaking thoughts.
"Good job Peg, ye have got that place all neat as a pin down there." He smiled at her. "Then again, you always were good at this sorta thing."
"This is nothing," Will mumbled into her shoulder, smiling despite himself as he said: "you should see how she organised the Pearl's stocks."
"Will-"
"I'm serious. Gibbs allowed me to look at the loot records. You keep things so accurate he hardly does anything below save keeping things neat."
Peggy felt her cheeks burn pink as Will carefully pulled himself off her.
"Come on." He sucked in a bracing breath. "The sooner I get patched up, the sooner we can get moving."
Peggy nodded, her ears warming as Will stroked a copper curl behind her ear, his thumb stroking her earlobe.
It's just a part of the act. He has to be tender in front of this lot because Jack said we're married. She breathed as she steeled herself to start working on his wounds.
Thankfully, they had stopped bleeding, though the bruising around the lash marks was now black, purple and blue. It would be a couple of weeks before his flesh would return to how it was…though the most profound marks would probably scar.
Bootstrap could hardly look at the marks because of his shame but forced himself to help Peggy rebind the injuries. Peggy felt a strange bittersweet fondness as she recognised the expressions of the man she loved on his father's face.
All these years, she had wondered why Will had seemed so familiar and safe from the first moment she met him. She did not trust people that easily. Usually, she kept her guard up from the first, but with Will, she immediately felt a connection. Was that because she had seen her friend's face in him from the start, even if she had not recognised it for what it was?
And now, here we all are. She mused sadly as she finished retying a clean bandage around Will's back and reached for his re-sown shirt.
"Here, arms." She mumbled, and Will obeyed and pulled his arms through the sleeves as she brought his shirt over his head. He enjoyed her warm touch as she helped him redress, being careful not to strain his back.
He sighed as the worn, dry cotton warmed his aching limbs.
"I put it in front of the fire while cooking," Peggy explained, coughing. It is easier to repair if the material is dry. You don't have a change of clothes or any spares on hand…" She glanced down at the pile of bloodied and filthy clothes and then turned to Bootstrap. "There's no chance of washing anything, is there?"
"No." Bootstrap shook his head. "The only new clothing we get down here is from whoever dies there." He jerked his thumb to the ceiling.
Will grimaced as he shrugged his vest over his shirt, which Peggy had also dried by the fire. Now that he had listened hard enough, the rain had stopped outside, though the chill in the air persisted.
"Thank you." He murmured as Peggy helped him stand, the clumsy thudding of his feet finally rousing Silver from his heavy nap.
"Hey-wassat. Whossat? Oh, you're up, are ye boy? Good. Yer missus was worried." The old sailor grunted. "Don' go scarin' her like that again. That girl could barely concentrate."
"You fumble a knife once, and suddenly, you're a hazard," Peggy muttered as she rolled her eyes. "Wasn't even my fault. We jibed hard."
"Yes, yes, whatever, girl. You and yer lad should go up above deck." Silver waved her off. "Storm's cleared. The crew will be taking some time off. Get the fresh air while you have a chance."
"He's right." Bootstrap muttered, "Captain always lets us take a breather after rough sailing. So long as ye get back to yer post quick smart when he gives the order."
Peggy reached for her abalone pendant, which rested on her neck. She had kept Jack's note inside it for now, but she was still nervous about helping Will get the key to the Dead Man's Chest.
It seemed too good to be true that they'd ever be able to achieve such a feat. And now that Will was injured-
"Peg?" Will touched her cheek, his face a mask of concern.
"I'll see you both above deck." Bootstrap nodded at the pair, a faint smile on his lips. "Give you a moment to get your bearings."
He shuffled off, and Peggy and Will quickly followed him out the door, ducking to the side underneath the stairs leading above the deck.
"So you're going to do this then?" Peggy whispered, uncomfortably aware of Will's arm wrapped around her waist, holding her close so their noses almost touched. "You're going to search for the key?"
"I already found a lead," Will muttered, leaning his forehead against hers as he pressed her into a support beam. As inappropriate as this was, now no one would suspect their true motives. They'd only think they were intruding on a married couple's attempt at intimacy. "One of the crew said the key was with the captain. So either it's on his person, or it's in-"
"-his Cabin." Peggy shuddered. "of course it is."
"You know where it is?"
"I do." She mumbled, and Will grimaced as he saw her shiver and her arms fold over herself. She added, "It's towards the stern, on the level above us. But it'll be tough to get in. The captain rarely leaves it. He always expects the rest of the crew to be up on deck when he does inspections. And if he's not in there but on the alert, he'll send Maccus or one of his dogs to guard the door."
"Then we'll have to keep Jones from suspecting anything." Will nodded, pursing his lips as he noticed her body trembling and her eyes misting. "Peg, don't worry. He won't hurt you again."
"Don't make promises you can't keep, William." Peggy shook her head, and Will sighed, leaning in further so he could press her into his chest.
"I'm not. I won't let him hurt you. If Jones catches me, I'll take the fall. I'll leave you out of it-"
"That won't work," Peggy mumbled in dismay. "Don't you get it, Will? He thinks we're married. He thinks you love me. If you get caught and take the blame for everything, he'll still use me to manipulate and torture you. Even if I were to rat you out to save my skin, he'd still use us against the other. That's just how he works. And…and if I outright disobey him, he'll use the mark, and he'll…he'll" She looked down at her marked wrist.
Though he held her tighter to him, a part of Will was relieved at the slight fear in her voice. If she was that afraid of the Devil's mark killing her, then that had to mean that deep down, she did not want to die. And if she didn't want to die, then…then…then that had to mean she still wanted to live. A piece of her had not given up yet. There was still a chance.
The thought filled him with fire, and the ache in his bruised, sliced back seemed duller as he pressed a firm kiss to her forehead.
"We will get through this, Peg. We will, I know it."
"Why do I feel you're cooking up something perilous and stupid?" She mumbled, and Will smirked despite himself.
"Because you know me too well. Now, come on. Let's go on deck. We can think clearer in the fresh air."
"And that's the whole sorry story, lads."
The crew of the Black Pearl stared dumbfounded at Jack Sparrow as he made one last dramatic flourish. They were all standing on the Deck of the Pearl. It was mid-morning, and though most had very little sleep the night before, none were feeling up to resting just yet.
Not when they were so keen for answers. And so, their captain had graciously obliged to sate their curiosity and hurt feelings, with many confusing words and gestures with his First Mate Gibbs helpfully piping in to keep things from getting too befuddling.
"So let me get this straight." Ronan Sloane glared at Jack Sparrow, his green eyes flashing like lightning. "Blake was a slave to Davy Jones himself for god knows how long-"
"Thirteen years, to be precise." Jack corrected him, and Sloane's eyes narrowed.
"-Thirteen years then – So you decided to let her go back to him in the hopes that she could help that stupid whelp Will Turner get this key to a chest containing Davy Jones's heart."
"Yes."
"So you knew all this time that the Devil himself was holding the life of the last selkie of the Caribbean in his palm, and you said nothing?" Sloane's nostrils flared, and Jack shrugged.
"Weren't my secret to tell, mate."
"Aye, if we had, it would've made things worse," Gibbs piped in before Sloane could snarl at the man. "Ya see lads, Peggy was not in Jones's pocket because she wanted to be there. The Devil were holdin' her life above her head all this time. That mark ye saw on her wrist that be his death sentence."
"Mark?" Sloane scowled, and Cotton quickly traced a circle on his right wrist.
"Yeah, Pegs had a black ring on her wrist. Looked pretty gnarly, too." Marty explained, and Sloane swore loudly.
"Jones's mark? She had the mark of DAVY EFFING JONES! ALL THIS TIME?!"
"Aye…that be so." Gibbs turned to Jack, who sighed.
"So…" Pintel frowned "So Pegsy weren't betrayin' us at all? She was just-"
"Tryin' to survive." Ragetti finished morosely. "Damn. So wait, if she has been under Jones's thumb for thirteen years, does that mean she was workin' for him when she first joined the crew?"
"Aye?"
"So…if she were workin' for him, wouldn't that make her cursed an' undead like we were?" Ragetti asked, and the rest of the crew tilted their heads at Jack, who rolled his eyes.
Fools, the lot of them.
"No. Pegsy ain't undead. That brat is still alive and kickin', and if she does what she's told, she'll keep kickin' till the very end."
"So, she's still on our side?" Pintel frowned only to wince as Marty slapped his side hard.
"Course she is. Ye saw how scared she was when Jones came aboard."
"Yeah, but ye can be scared o' someone and still be loyal to them, can' ye?"
"Not Blake." Sloane shook his head. "I may not have known her as long as the rest of you, but she doesn't strike me as the kind of person who would willingly serve someone who hurt her."
There were mutters of agreement, though Jack noticed a man named Buck, who stood at the back of the crew's huddle, still did not look entirely convinced.
"As I was saying, gentlemen, Pegsy didn't betray us, nor did I give her up willy-nilly. If we went in guns-a-blazin', Jones would've killed us all, no mercy. But now, we have three days, don't we? An' a lot can happen in three days."
"Like us getting' to Tortuga-ow! Oi! Watch it!" Gibbs winced as Cotton's parrot Paulie suddenly swooped down from the crow's nest in a flutter of blue and gold plumage, squawking loudly as it landed on the port side railings.
"GAHH! Man overboard! Man overboard!" the parrot bobbed its head, frantically whistling as it kept squawking the exact words repeatedly.
The crew and Jack quickly slid to the port railings, squinting as the sunlight gleaming on the ocean surface assaulted their eyes.
Then they heard it. The splashing of something heavy in the water and a scream-
"HELP! OY! OVER HERE! MAN OVERBOARD!"
It was a boy's voice, an adolescent from how it cracked between youthful shrillness and lower, more mature notes.
"There! I see 'im!" Marty pointed; his sharp eyes quick to spot the shadow drawing nearer in the water to the Pearl.
It was a tiny raft made from a rowboat's battered and splintered remains. Bits of wood were black and sooty from where cannon fire had burned at them earlier, but despite the damage, it was floating quite well on the water.
Its lone passenger was a thirteen-year-old boy with a mop of damp, dark curls and toasted caramel skin, some of which was covered in soot. His clothes, likewise, were torn to rags and covered in soot.
At the sight of the Pearl looming before him, the lad quickly dropped the plank of wood to his feet and began vigorously waving his hands in the air. His desperate face split into a grin of relief mixed with fresh tears.
"Jimmy?"
"JACK! UNCLE JACK! OVER HERE!"
"I see ya lad!" Jack turned back to his men "Mister Gibbs! Cast him a line!"
"You heard the Captain! Toss the boy a line!" Gibbs repeated, but Sloane and Cotton were already dashing to secure one end of the line while Marty roused the rest of the men to throw the line over the side for the young lad.
It did not take them long to haul young Jimmy Labelle into the Pearl. His excitement about being rescued gave him such energy that almost catapulted him over the railing and to Jack, whom he hugged tight around the middle as he burst into tears.
Jack stiffened in surprise but quickly returned the embrace stiffly, patting the boy on the head and shoulder as he assessed his condition.
The boy wasn't just dressed in sooty rags that were completely and utterly soaked with seawater, but he also had many burns and scrapes on his arms and one nasty bruise on his head. From what Jack could tell, the boy had no injuries from a sword or fists. No, these were injuries sustained by being surrounded by cannon fire and being thrown about on deck.
"Woah-woah! Easy lad, easy. We got ya." The pirate lord hissed soothingly, bracing his nephew by the shoulders as he swayed dangerously on his feet. Now that Jack thought about it, the boy looked ready to drop at any moment.
"S-Sorry Uncle Jack," Jimmy mumbled, shivering as a cold breeze blew across the deck. "I ain't eaten in a while."
"Ain't slept too likely as not," Gibbs noted, nodding at the large dark rings around the boy's puffy red eyes.
"What happened, Jimmy? What are ye doin' out here like this?" Jack added as he pulled his long dark coat around the scared boy's shoulders.
"The-the Company." Jimmy snivelled, wiping his streaming nose. "The EITC…we got attacked…they sent two ships after us. The Lady…the Lady…she's gone… they're both gone."
"Both?"
"The Painted Lady and Mom. I can't find Mom!" Jimmy cried out. "Where is she? She isn't with you, is she? She went over the side, but I didn't see where she landed-She said she'd find me-"
"No, we ain't seen your ma just yet. But we'll keep an eye out." Jack rubbed soothing circles on the back of the boy's shoulders as he began to sob once more.
"No-no, I have to find her. She said she'd be right behind me. She promised! She promised!"
"Hey-hey Jimbo! Calm down. We'll look for yer ma. We'll look for her." Jack cut across him, firmly but not unkindly, his entire body stiff as he scanned the horizon line for a sign of a ship, friend or foe. However, no ships were anywhere in sight—just the open ocean. "Right now, we're on our way to Tortuga. If yer ma is alive, she'll make her way there. An' if there's one thing I know about Jacquelin, is she won' let herself die that easily."
There was silence as Jimmy sobbed harder into Jack, and the crew of the Black Pearl stared in horror at one another as the weight of what they had just heard sank in.
"The Painted Lady got sunk?" Ragetti hissed at Pintel with wide eyes. "That tough old girl? Even Barbossa couldn't manage that, and we were cursed."
"Well, yeah, but that's only 'cause Labelle always knew how to outrun us." Pintel folded his arms. "She as wily as ol' Captain Jack. But I doubt even she could outrun two Company ships-"
"SHH!" Sloane hissed as Cotton mimed a slicing of the throat action. Pintel and Ragetti quickly shut their mouths, though their worry spread through the rest of the men as they remembered the red and black painted hull of their old comrade's ship.
Only Jack remained calm and collected, or at least it appeared that way. Gibbs could see the darkening of those brown eyes in anger as Jack's brain whirred to figure out this new wrinkle.
"Hmm…guess we 'ave no choice…" The captain muttered but quickly squashed down any questions as he turned and barked at his crew:
"Marty, get up to the crow's nest and see what's goin' on. Mister Gibbs, break time's over. Get us to Tortuga quickly, toot sweet, c'mon. Prep the cannons, too, while we're at it. Sloane, take this one down below to Diggs. Get him checked out thoroughly and get 'im some food and new clothes an' whatever else Diggs suggests. He better be alive when I get down there." He pointed at Jimmy, who sneezed loudly, its force almost making him wobble like an unstable glass vase.
"Aye, captain!" the men shouted, dashing away from Jack.
Sloane quickly scooped Jimmy up into his arms and murmured soothingly: "Come on lad, we got you. You're going to be okay now."
Selkies. Mother hens the lot of them. Jack shook his head as Gibbs dashed towards him, his face set in a worried frown as he finished barking final orders.
"Looks like the Company is making their move. Somethin' must have gotten up Beckett's breeches."
"Or someone," Jack muttered darkly as he began striding up to the helm, where he took the wheel from Cotton with a wave. "He must have gotten sick of waiting for the whelp to return with Pegsy."
Gibbs swore quietly.
"Great, just what we need. If the Company has taken down the Painted Lady, then there'll be panic in Tortuga. No pirate worth his salt will want to risk sailin' on the open ocean with Beckett's force's decimatin' Court ships."
"An' no Court ships are goin' to risk sailing through the Caribbean to stop him. Shipwreck Cove will be shut tighter than a mermaid's purse," Jack finished bluntly. "But this changes nothin' master Gibbs. We still have a job to do."
"Aye, a hundred souls three days…well, two and a half days." Gibbs shook his head. "With a sea full of EITC ships huntin' down all pirates and the ruddy Kraken not too far behind." He gave a dismal sigh "I never thought I'd live to see such dark times Jack, I really didn't."
"Neither did I, Master Gibbs." Jack grimaced bitterly. "Neither did I."
The deck of the Flying Dutchman was surprisingly peaceful, or at least the least busy Will had seen it since arriving.
Nearly all the crew were above deck, milling about or crowding around groups of "men" as they played Liar's Dice and other games of chance with cards or dice on the deck or using barrels as boards. Very few of the crew were missing, and those were the crewmates who were too busy sawing logs below in their hammocks for some much-needed shut-eye.
Will and Peggy were ignored as they stood beneath the shade of the deck above in a corner half hidden behind a wooden beam. Will stood behind Peggy, his arms wrapped around her waist to rest his cheek into her curls, her warm back plastered to his front.
Though she had been stiff at first at the contact, she had been quick to relax when she realised its effect on the rest of the men. Before Will had held her, several of them had been eyeing her like a piece of meat or with a deadly suspicion. Once Will had put his hands on her, all eyes quickly turned away, though some shady characters like Angler and Maccus did sneer and lick their teeth menacingly when they spotted her. There was no lust in their eyes, only delighted malice. They were undoubtedly trying to think of petty ways to hurt her and Will for sport.
True joy was rare on the Flying Dutchman, so the crew took delight in any pleasure, from the most benign of songs to the cruellest games.
Thankfully, however, Davy Jones's orders not to touch her were followed, and even the vilest of crewmates were obedient to his will like lapdogs.
Peggy had to admit she was glad to have Will's arms around her. It anchored her to reality and stopped her fear or despair from overwhelming her as a pipe organ's haunting and daunting melody thrummed through the ship from the captain's cabin below.
How often had she heard the Captain of the Flying Dutchman playing his sorrowful music as she had been beaten by one of his loyal dogs? She would never forget each note blasting into her ears, mingling horribly with the laughter and jeers of the bosun as he raised a belt in his hand-
Peggy sucked in a sharp breath to steady herself.
"What's wrong?" Will murmured into her ear, his grip around her tightening.
"Nothing," Peggy gulped. "Just…old memories." She shut her eyes and sank into Will's embrace as he pressed his nose into her temple.
"We can always go back below deck if you don't like it up here, " he muttered, but Peggy shook her head.
"No…I'm fine. Heaven knows when I'll get another chance to be in the fresh air again." She bit her lip as she opened her eyes, her eyes seeing but unseeing as they settled on three of Jones's four loyalists settling down on their knees to challenge another game.
"So this is Liar's Dice?" Will frowned. "Seems simple enough."
"Rules are simple. But it's harder than it looks. The key is deceit and observation," Peggy murmured. "Hector always used to beat me at it. I mean, I wasn't bad, but…well, Old Codfish could always read me like a book," she added with a small sad smile. "One time, I was so determined to beat him, so I stayed up till three in the morning playing against him while Jack was busy bedding one of his wenches. I think I fell asleep at the table, but then I woke up the next morning in bed. Dunno how I got back there."
Will's smirk softened sadly. From what he had heard of Peggy's life on the Pearl as a child, she had many fond memories of Barbossa. It was odd. To Will, he was nothing more than an adversary, an enemy. But to her…she had known him. And whatever said and done, Barbossa had not let any harm come to her until she had provoked him to fight. Indeed, Will remembered how Barbossa had done his best to stall a duel with Peggy at the Isla de Muerta. Despite his attempts to seem cutthroat, the older pirate had valued the remnants of that friendship he, Jack and Peggy had all shared. Will did not think the betrayal would have stung so much on all sides had there not been a true bond in some form between the three of them.
The corners of Will's mouth twitched upwards momentarily at the image of young Peggy doing her best to lie to the grizzly and snarky pirate. He could almost see her mouth twisting and pursing as it did whenever she desperately tried to calculate numbers and sums in her head.
Yes, Will could imagine Peggy struggling in a game like this. She would be excellent at guessing what was beneath the other cups, and she always had a good head for such calculations, but she could not lie to save her life or hold a poker face for long.
"Peg?" he whispered.
"Yes?" Peggy turned her head only to blush. She found his face very close to hers, and he put his lips to her ears.
"Do you trust me?" his words were so soft they were almost drowned out by the music below deck and the murmurs of men as they placed bets on the game they watched.
"Depends on what you're up to." Peggy frowned, shivering as his breath ghosted her earlobe. "Why do you ask?"
"Because I have an idea..." Will inhaled deeply as he braced himself. "It's risky-"
"How risky?"
"Probably suicidal." He muttered, glancing pointedly at the dice players seated on the ground.
Peggy felt her gut fall away like a weighed anchor.
"No," she murmured, trying to squirm to face Will, but his arms were too strong. "Will, are you crazy?"
"Maybe I am," Will murmured, keeping a tight grip on her before anyone could notice the change in their tone. The last thing he wanted was for the rest of the crew to be suspicious of their true intent. "I need to do this alone, or else this won't work."
Peggy glowered at him, then at the players and men about them. If Will was thinking of doing what she thought…suicidal was an understatement. It was downright mad. Almost as wild as one of Jack's schemes.
But then, Jack always did manage to get out of hairy situations by the skin of his teeth…But Will wasn't Jack…Will was Will…
"Please, Peg." Will murmured into her hair, "I know it isn't easy, but we may not get another chance."
Peggy sighed heavily. Contrary to what Jack and Barbossa had said about the young blacksmith, Will could be cunning when he wanted something. She knew that because she had seen it and had been on the receiving end of it for so many years. Even now, she could sense him pulling on the threads of her feelings for him to get her to agree with his hair-brained schemes.
His inexperience and moral pride kept him from being as cutthroat and conniving as the other pirates around him.
But perhaps that was just the reason such a scheme would work. If Davy Jones thought him a pathetic whelp, he would never expect such a ploy.
"Fine…" She gripped Will's hand tight in hers, her fingers shaking. "Fine, do what you want. Just… promise me you'll be as careful as you can. I…I don't want to see him skewer you alive."
"I promise, Peg. I won't let that happen." Will returned her grip, lacing his fingers with hers. He pressed a small kiss behind her ear, his lips brushing her earlobe. Then, he nuzzled his nose into her curls and inhaled deeply.
"Will," She muttered warningly, but Will hardly listened as her scent filled his nostrils, fortifying his spirit for the task ahead.
"Sorry," He muttered, smirking a little despite knowing he should be angry with himself. He couldn't help it. He had missed seeing her annoyed pout after all these months. Plus, wasn't this what newly married couples were supposed to do? They might as well keep up the act until they could find a way to escape.
"So, when is this going to happen? This ingenious plan of yours." She coughed stiffly, though Will could see her ears and cheeks were as red as her hair.
"Soon. I need to watch a few more rounds." He murmured. "There's still a few rules I don't understand."
And he wanted more time to hold her close. He sighed in his head as he rested his chin on her shoulder, thinking about the second stage of his plan. If the first stage went well, then he'd have to work quickly and…and then…then came the tricky part…
And so, they watched and waited.
Several rounds were played, and different players were subbed in and out. Maccus, the shark-headed First Mate, stayed for each round, determined to win back whatever he lost or show up those he could best.
"Ah, there ye are." the gravelly voice of his father, Bootstrap Bill Turner, grunted as he shuffled beside them, his pale eyes gleaming with delight despite the glumness of their surroundings.
Peggy wondered whether they should tell him the truth about their not being married. After all, he already knew of Will's mission to find the key to the Dead Man's Chest. However, she did not have the heart to ruin the older sailors' joy. Not when she saw how bright his face lit up at the sight of them so close to one another.
However, what surprised Peggy was how easily Will lied to his father. Usually, he felt awkward and ill at ease lying to people he cared for. Will did love Bootstrap, and she could tell he was glad to see him. Yet there was also still a lot of old resentment brewing in the blacksmith's brown eyes, which welled up whenever Bootstrap and Peggy talked or the older sailor spoke of his late wife, Katherine.
Yet the more she dwelled on it, Peggy could not blame Will for his bitterness.
Despite his dismal fate, Bootstrap had left his only son behind to struggle with poverty and the death of his mother. On top of that, while the man was away, he was helping look after another child. That must have felt like a massive slap in Will's face. Peggy was surprised he did not feel so bitter towards her for her friendship with his father.
"Wonderin' how it's played." Bootstrap nodded at Maccus and the two new players on the floor, the former most crying out as he called another player's bluff.
"I understand," Will murmured. "It's a game of deception, but your bet includes all the dice, not just your own. What are they wagering?"
"The only thing we have. Years of service." Bootstrap shrugged sadly, and Peggy grimaced as Maccus cried out in defeat after seeing the other player's dice and his folly.
Of course, it made sense, Peggy thought glumly. None of the crew could leave or spend time on land in their cursed forms, so money was useless to them. Food was not allowed to be bet upon; she remembered that from her last stay aboard the Dutchman, which left time as the only currency worth its weight in gold.
"So any crewmember can be challenged?" Will asked, and Peggy sucked in a deep breath, her heart hammering as she recognised the hardening in Will's tone and the stiffening of his chest behind his back as he straightened up.
"Aye?" Bootstrap frowned.
There was a pause in which Peggy felt Will's hand squeeze her own as he pressed a small kiss to the side of her head in a silent attempt at an apology before he squared his shoulders and raised his voice.
"Then I challenge Davy Jones."
All eyes turned to Will, some in horror, some in awe, all in shock. Even Bootstrap was surprised.
Peggy was the only one who was not surprised, though her face went pale as the swelling music from within the ship stopped so sharply that it almost stung her ears.
For a moment, Will thought his plan had not worked, and the men would laugh at him for his foolishness.
But then they heard it.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
Peggy looked up and shivered as she saw the sea flora and fauna growing on the ship shrink and curl into itself as every thud of the boards above made the wood judder.
Then the footsteps got louder and faster as they lowered the stairs to the port side.
Now, the crew began to laugh. It was not hearty or jeering. It started as a wicked little snigger that caught on swiftly to other men before they all devolved into cackles of malevolence as the shadow of Davy Jones loomed over the deck, his form briefly illuminated by a stray flash of lightning.
"I accept, mate." The sunken devil sneered, and Peggy gripped Will's hand tighter.
Oh god, now there's no turning back. She gulped as Will whispered in her ear:
"Everything will be fine. Trust me."
"I do." She breathed, her terrified gaze fixed on Jones as he stalked to their level. "It's him I don't trust."
Will frowned at her as she reached down her shirt, pulled out a small canvas pouch and shoved it into his grip.
To his surprise, Will quickly looked inside and saw a set of six-sided dice made from bleached white whalebone.
"Tia Dalma gave them to me," she mumbled. "Don't lose them."
"I won't" Will nodded as he gave her one last small peck on the head before detaching himself from her. Whatever he had become, Jones was and had always been a fearsome and deadly pirate. He had not survived this long by being a fool or letting himself be fooled easily.
"Whatever happens, don't let her intervene," Will whispered to his father, who nodded and quickly shuffled to stand with Peggy. Bootstrap put an arm around her shoulder to brace and hold her still. However, she could see his nerves in his pale eyes as they both watched Will be strongarmed to sit on a barrel. At the same time, the crew set up a makeshift table made from a wooden crate, with another couple of barrels for seats so Will and the captain could sit comfortably.
Will watched someone shove a cup onto the table before him, then carefully removed Peggy's dice from their satchel. He then noticed that instead of a single dot on the "one" face, there was a small, inked carving of a crab.
Will felt like he had seen this symbol before…was it at Tia Dalma's? She did have a lot of crab-themed ornaments around that crowded shack. Her scrying 'dice' were made from crab claws, and her silver musical box was shaped like a crab…
For some reason, he had a feeling it was important…
However, he forced himself to squash down such thoughts for later as Davy Jones stormed up to him, proud and tall. To Will's relief, his father pulled Peggy back to stand at the edge of the spectators, pulling her terrified form as far away from the sunken devil as they could as the crowd around them pressed in.
"I wager everything I own." Will stared coldly at Davy Jones, who scoffed and rolled his eyes as he sat down and had Maccus hand a set of dice to him.
"I only bet on what's dearest to a man's heart. Else, there's no way to tell when he's bluffing. What a man is willing to risk or not to risk" The Devil smirked in Peggy's direction, his eyes twinkling in derisive pleasure as she looked down at her toes. "That's a measure of his soul."
There was the soft 'plink' as his tentacled index finger let the dice in his hand fall one by one into the cup.
"I wager a hundred years of service."
"No." Bootstrap gasped, and now it was Peggy's turn to grab her old friend to stop him from balking forward.
"Against your freedom?" Jones sneered.
"Against my father's freedom." Will put Peggys' dice into his cup and began to shake them.
There was a pause as many eyebrows rose. A few eyes turned to Peggy, who avoided them all.
They had all expected Will to free her first since they were supposed to be married. And yet he had chosen his father?
Peggy, however, was not surprised. Whatever Will said and did towards her, Bootstrap was his father. His flesh and blood. Besides, the woman Will loved and claimed he would "die for" was safely tucked away in another cell across the ocean. He could hold and kiss Peggy and claim to care about her all he wished, but he would always run back to Elizabeth at the end of the day. That was the harsh truth of it.
She felt her chest sting as another tiny fragment of the selkie bond broke off. However, Peggy was so used to the pain that it hardly registered. It seemed almost commonplace now.
"Agreed," Jones smirked as he glanced back over his shoulder at Bootstrap and then to Peggy, his gaze lingering on her as he lit his pipe and took a long drag, using his tentacled beard to hold the pipe while his hand shook his dice in his cup.
Peggy almost felt the tremors of the two mugs hitting the board. The players' gazes were heated and intense as they carefully raised their mugs to look at their dice beneath. Peggy felt her heart hammer in her ears as she watched Will's expression.
He was calm, though he grimaced and carefully rubbed his chest for some reason. God, she hoped his wounds were not infected.
"Two threes," Will grunted, his voice low as he forced himself to look Jones in the eye.
"Hmph! You're a desperate man." Jones sneered as he took another drag of his smoking pipe. "What is the cause? It can only be a woman. Three-threes."
"A woman need not cause you to be desperate. If you choose the right woman." Will clipped, glancing at Peggy. Despite the direness of the situation, she blushed at the intensity of his brown eyes as he held her gaze and said: "Four threes."
"Tch! And ye believe she be that right woman? That selkie she-devil that lied and cheated her way to survive." Jones spat bitterly. "Ha. No matter what the two of ye do, yer fate is ter be married to this ship boy.
"I choose my own fate," Will responded calmly, forcing himself to glare at Jones.
"Then it wouldn't be fate, would it?" The devil sneered. "Five threes."
He's way too comfortable. He can't have five or six threes. Peggy mused as she glanced at Will's face. Despite the Devil's taunts, he had yet to lose his cool. He hadn't yet gotten that tick in his neck or forehead that belied his nerves.
It's more likely there are five or six of a higher face on the table. Most likely five-fives or five-sixes. That's why he started at such a low number.
"Five sixes," Will responded, and Peggy bit her lip as Jones chuckled and growled:
"Liar!"
Will sucked in a deep breath as he and Jones reached forth and pulled up their cups.
"Five sixes." One of the crew muttered, and Peggy sighed in relief as she caught sight of the four sixes under Will's cup, with the lone three, while Jones's black dice only had one six and four threes.
Many eyes turned to Bootstrap Bill, who gazed down at the dice with watering eyes filled with awe and amazement, barely heeding his Captain's presence as the latter snuffed out his smoking pipe on his claw hand.
"Well done, Master Turner." Jones nodded, and to Peggy's surprise, the old devil seemed quite impressed with the young man. Then again, the stakes were relatively low, and the loss was hardly a blow for the Dutchman's Captain. Bootstrap was an older sailor with more experience, but Will was younger, a talented blacksmith and could provide more entertainment if Jones tortured her.
"I'm free, Jones," Bootstrap whispered to the captain, who sniffed but stayed silent as he stalked away. Despite his grace in the face of loss, he still had some pride.
"Another game?"
Peggy bit her lip as Will's words caused the captain to halt.
"Ye can't beat the devil twice, son." Davy Jones clipped warningly, but Peggy could see the gleam in Will's eyes.
"Then why are you walking away?"
There was a bone-numbing silence as the crew sucked in sharp breaths of horror and awe at Will's daring. Yet, unlike when he first challenged the captain, there were no sniggers or chortles. Only the hammering of hearts and the gulps of nerves as Jones's growl almost melted into the thunder that rolled ahead.
Peggy shivered as she saw the Devil's pale eyes flash in the light of a bolt of lightning. Now Will had well and truly stuck his foot into it.
She knew she had promised to stay out of it but drew closer to the blacksmith's side, grabbing his arm. She could not tell what terrified her more, the thought of losing Will or the familiar urge to run and hide from Jones as he wheeled around and stalked back towards them, his expression seething.
"The stakes?" Jones spat.
"My soul," Will stated bluntly. "An eternity of servitude."
"Will!" Peggy's eyes bulged. She knew he said his plan was suicidal, but this was too much.
Even Bootstrap seemed to think so, for he, too, looked horrified as he gasped:
"No!"
The only one not horrified was Jones, who looked mightily pleased with Peggy and Bootstrap's struggle as he hissed:
"Against?"
"Against Peggy's freedom." Will scowled, and the devil's lips curled down instantly.
"No," Jones spat. "Yer woman made a deal with me, boy! And when we made that deal, she agreed it was non-negotiable. Ain't that right, lass?" his glower now turning on Peggy, who shrank into Will's side on autopilot.
"She was only a child when she made that deal." Will snapped at Jones, gently pushing Peggy behind him to shield her from the demon's stare.
"Aye, she was," Jones admitted without remorse or pity. "But selkies ain't bound by the same laws as mankind. Once they give their word, they are bound to it, and if their word is broken by them or another, it breaks them. Would you risk breaking the woman you love for another roll of the die?"
Will felt the fire in his chest grow at the taunt but sucked in a deep breath to soothe himself as he turned to Peggy and asked:
"Is it truly non-negotiable?"
She nodded mutely, cursing herself as she tried and failed to speak. She could open her mouth, but the words got caught in her throat whenever she felt like pushing a sound out. Gods, she hated how pathetic she was. But she could not help it. There were too many memories…too many beatings…and yet, a piece of her, a stubborn, angry piece of her, knew she could not just sit around and watch anymore. She had to do something.
But her feet couldn't even move. They were stuck there as Will returned to Jones and reached into his belt for a scrap of cloth.
"Fine then. If I can't barter her freedom, then I want this."
Will threw the cloth to the table and sneered:
"What was it you said about that which is dearest to a man's heart?"
There was a pause as Jones cautiously reached out with a tentacled finger to pick up the cloth, opening it to look at the now familiar drawing of the ancient key.
The rest of the Flying Dutchman's crew drew back in alarm, and many whispers and mutters spread amongst them. They looked worriedly at their captain as he threw the cloth on the table as if the material had burned his slimy skin.
When he looked at Will, Peggy drew back in alarm. She had never seen the devil so rattled. He was trembling in shock, and when he spoke, his voice was nearly a hurried whisper:
"How do ye know of the key?"
"That's not part of the game now, is it?" Will smirked as he sat back down; his eyes remained fixed on Davy Jones for his reaction. "You can still walk away."
Will stiffened as he felt Peggy give his shoulder two small squeezes. At first, he wanted to shrug her off; after all, she had promised not to interfere. But then he peeked at her from the corner of his eye and saw her watching Jones closely, gauging every tiny micro-expression piece by piece.
For the first time since arriving on this ship, she did not seem afraid of its deadly captain. She looked eerily as calm and shrewd as her father, Cutler Beckett when he assessed a manifest or report.
Will followed her gaze and looked closer at the captain of the Flying Dutchman. Though Davy Jones had been surprised, there was still an air of danger around him. Indeed, the threat had only heightened from how his crew shifted anxiously around them.
Carefully, Will schooled his expression back to neutrality and reached up to pry her hand from his shoulder. He did his best to keep the motion as casual as possible, not meeting her eye as if dismissing her without care but surreptitiously returning the squeeze of her fingers to show he had heeded her warning.
Peggy was right, now was not the time to get too cocky. Even when a beast was backed into a corner, it still had teeth and claws…or tentacles in Jones's case.
Will watched as the tentacles on Jones's 'beard' slid apart to reveal a long braided black chord and a thin iron ring on which two keys hung, their surfaces catching the light.
The first was a solid silver key with a grip moulded into a clamshell shape and a three-pronged pin that looked like a trident. Will felt Peggy stiffen behind him immediately and knew what it must mean. However, as he beheld the second key, he kept a blank face as possible.
The second key was made from black iron and shaped exactly like the drawing of the key from the cloth. It had a circular pin and a split gnarled pin at the end. Despite its great age, it looked bizarrely tiny and unimpressive in person, especially compared to the ornate and pretty silver key that hung next to it. And yet, he could almost feel something shift around him…not the wind, but something else unseen. He was unsure how, but the heaviness in the air felt similar to when he entered Tia Dalma's shack.
To think so much would hinge on such an unassuming piece of metalwork. Will frowned.
There was magic around that black key; he was sure of it… magic he, for some reason, felt drawn to. Even now, his fingers itched to hold the key…but he quickly shoved that thought down as Jones's tentacle drew both keys back beneath his beard and tucked them safely away.
Peggy felt her heart hammer in her chest as Jones settled in his seat opposite Will and tossed his dice into his cup.
Will followed the Captain's lead, brown eyes and pale green locking onto one another even as they slammed their cups down to the table, only to find a third hand with another cup had joined their game.
"Bootstrap." Peggy sucked in a sharp breath as she watched Bootstrap Bill Turner sit on Jones's left, putting himself between him and Will in the turn order.
"What's this?" Davy Jones snarled at the older sailor, who grunted and shrugged his shoulders in Will's direction.
"I'm in. Matching his wager."
"No!" Will's eyes were wide, his cold mask slipping as Peggy pinched the bridge of her nose behind him.
"An eternity of service to you," Bootstrap mumbled. lifted his cup and checked his dice. "I bid three twos."
"Don't do this." Will hissed, but when his father met his gaze, he could tell there was no stopping him now.
"The die is cast." The elder Turner mumbled, the finality in his tone leaving no room for argument as he turned to face a now amused Davy Jones. "It's your bid, Captain."
Three twos…Bootstrap, you bid too low. Peggy folded her arms, pursing her lips as she remembered when she had faced Bootstrap in games during her time on the Black Pearl. He never liked playing against the rest of the crew because he could not lie, bluff, or cheat to save his life. He didn't mind playing against Peggy because their games were never for money, just simple fun. But even she, as inexperienced as she was, often beat him.
Will had an honest face; it was true, but Bootstrap…Bootstrap was an open book. What was he playing when he entered this game? What did he have to gain putting himself between Jones and-
Peggy stopped, horror-struck as she briefly met Bootstrap's gaze and saw the sorrow behind his blue eyes.
No…no…She had thought Will was protective, but Bootstrap had taken the cake.
It did not matter what Will did now; Jones could never accuse him of lying with Bootstrap between them. It would go against the game's rules, and Jones's pride would never let him violate them.
It did not matter if Bootstrap won or lost the petty gain; he had achieved what he wanted. He had protected his son from eternal punishment…by sacrificing the freedom his son had just won him.
Like father like son, Peggy felt tears prick as she watched the three players begin their game.
"Four-fours." Jones bid.
So he has four of something under his cup. Peggy frowned, though she doubted Jones had many, if any, fours beneath his cup. Most players often started with face values lower than they had so they could start small and work their way up, though they usually gave away how many dice might be the same number. However, given the presence of fifteen dice at the table, it was reasonable to assume that either Will or Bootstrap might have had at least a two to three fours between them until proven otherwise.
"Four fives." Will countered swiftly.
So Will has at least four-fives beneath his cup or three-fives, and he's accounting for Jones possessing more. Bootstrap can't have more than threes or fours on the table if he bid three-twos.
"Six threes." Bootstrap bid but Jones did not even deign to look at the older sailor. Instead, he sneered in Will's face:
"Seven fives."
Peggy opened her eyes, and her heart sank as she caught sight of the twitch of the vein in Will's neck and the tiny flex of his hand on his cup.
So he only has three fives under his cup, and Jones has four…Bootstrap can't have any because he's been bidding on twos and threes. If Will bids higher, he'll lie outright, and Jones knows it. But neither can Will call Jones a liar because he's not lying…
Peggy looked at Bootstrap again and could tell from his clenched jaw that he had caught onto the same train of thought as he, Will and Jones re-checked the contents of their cups.
"Eight-fives," Will stated, his voice calm and steady, though Peggy could see his neck was stiff as a board as Jones's face and the faces of the crew all twisted into gnarled chuckles.
"He-he-he! Welcome to the crew, lad." the devil chuckled wickedly only to stop abruptly as Bootstrap's voice suddenly piped up:
"Twelve fives."
Jones looked sharply at Bootstrap, whose face was blank and calm as he repeated his bid:
"Twelve fives. Call me a liar…or up the bid."
Peggy shut her eyes. Though she knew what Bootstrap was trying to do, it still pained her to watch it happen and be unable to intervene.
Especially when she could hear the smirk in Jones's voice as he snarled:
"And be called a liar myself for me trouble?"
Peggy grabbed Will's hand before it could shoot out to stop Jones from taking his father's cup. But it was already too late. Five red dice were now visible to all eyes watching, the white dots on the faces betraying the dismal three-twos and two-threes that Bootstrap had had under his cup the whole time.
"Bootstrap Bill, yer a liar, and you will spend an eternity on this ship!" Jones's voice echoed across the deck as he threw the cup aside and stood up abruptly, sneering at Will.
"Master Turner, feel free to go ashore. The very next time we make PORT!"
The thunder crashed and rolled overhead. The Captain and crew of the Flying Dutchman all laughed heartily at the incensed expression that flashed across Will's face as he braced himself to stand.
Monster! Monster! Will wanted to lunge at the captain, to hit him with everything he had, rip his tentacles off his face-
"Will don't."
Will stopped as he felt Peggy's arms wrap around his shoulders from behind and hold him back.
However, even as he stayed put, his entire body almost vibrated with rage as the Dutchman's crew left him, Peggy, and his father behind to head to another section of the deck to watch someone else play another game of cards.
Once they were safely out of earshot, she let go of Will, who sagged to his elbows on the table.
"You fool, why did you do that?" Will groaned in dismay.
"I couldn't let you lose," Bootstrap mumbled, unable to meet his son's eye.
"It wasn't about winning or losing." Will hissed, and Bootstrap looked up at him in wonder.
"The key…" he breathed. "You just wanted to know where it was."
Will nodded, her eyes flickering to Peggy as she took Jones's old seat. Her freckled face was pale, and her entire body trembled from head to toe, but otherwise, she seemed fine.
"Like father like son. You both are mad." She muttered with a scowl.
Despite himself, Will couldn't help but smile a little as she narrowed her eyes at the two Turner men.
"So what happens now?"
"Now we wait," Will murmured, grimacing as his back twinged. "When does the next shift start?"
"Not for a couple of hours," Bootstrap mumbled. "Now that the storm has passed, we get to return to regular day-night shifts like any other ship."
Will nodded.
"Then we'll wait till our next break to act. Let Jones think we've given up or are too tired to go on-mnn!" Will groaned as he twisted his shoulders only to find his back burn.
"You've overdone it again," Peggy sighed. She and Bootstrap got up to help lift Will back to his feet.
"I've got him," Bootstrap muttered as he hauled one of Will's arms around his barnacle-covered shoulders. "Remember yer dice."
Peggy nodded, quickly scooping Tia Dalma's dice back into their pouch, but only in time.
The heavy thudding of footsteps announced the return of a crewman.
The newcomer was a broad man who retained some human features. However, his entire face was covered in barnacles and mussels, his left eye was covered entirely like an eyepatch, and his hair was replaced by tangles of seaweed that sprouted from beneath his algae-covered heat. Sea anemones grew on his left shoulder, swaying and swishing oddly despite hardly any breeze.
His broad face twisted into a grimace as he raised one hammy hand to Will in a token of peace. The younger man bristled in readiness despite his injury.
"Hey, lass." The man grunted at Peggy with a deep, gravelly voice.
"Clanker." Peggy straightened up. "Is it the captain?"
"Aye, he wants to see ye." He looked at Will, his expression surprisingly apologetic as he said: "Sorry mate. She has te come alone."
Will opened his mouth to ask why but stopped when Peggy's hand flew to her right wrist, her face contorting in pain.
"Peg?"
"Captain's orders," Peggy muttered, turning her wrist over so Will could see the hideous black mark pulsating against her skin. "I can't disobey."
Will felt his blood freeze in his veins.
"But why-?" Will started, only for Peggy to kiss his cheek as she dropped the dice bag into his hands.
"I'll see you below deck when I'm done." She turned back to Clanker and nodded at him. "the cabin, yes?"
Clanker nodded, gesturing for Peggy to walk ahead of him. His face was sombre and sad as the young Selkie woman walked before him. Though she tried to stay calm and draw herself straight and tall, Will could see the bittersweet sorrow in her eyes.
"Come on, Will" Bootstrap tried tugging him in the opposite direction, but Will refused to budge.
"What's he going to do with her?"
"I don't know." Bootstrap sighed. "But we should stay out of it-"
"He's punishing her, isn't he?" Will breathed, gripping the dice bag tight in his hands. "He's punishing her for what I did." With all his strength, Will pushed his father off to stumble after Peggy, panic flooding him and replacing any warmth or triumph he had felt in his success. He suddenly found most of the crew in his way. They crowded around Peggy from behind, silently herding her towards the captain's cabin.
No-no. This wasn't supposed to happen. This wasn't supposed to happen! Will thought as he desperately tried to shove his way through the dense crowd, doing his best to follow the glimpses of copper red he could see through the gaps between heads.
As he moved, he noticed the faces of the men Peggy passed. Most were silent, some looked in pity, and Jones's loyalists were excited as they watched their captain open the door to his cabin.
"Missus Turner," Davy Jones smirked with derisive pleasure as he looked up and saw Will struggling up the stairs, his injured back throbbing and impeding his process. He growled and moaned in pain as one of Jones's followers purposefully tripped him at the top to stop him from reaching Peggy, his arms flying out just in time to stop his face from contacting the sharp edge of the stairs.
"Will wait." Bootstrap tried to grab the back of his vest, but Will shoved his father off him as he ran to the closing double doors, which shut in his face.
"No!"
But too late.
The door was shut.
Will roared as his palms slammed down on the wood, the sound almost drowned by the murmurs of sympathy and laughs of glee at his misfortune. "Let her go, Jones! Let her go! She doesn't-"
"William, stop!" Bootstrap grabbed at his son and tugged him back only just in time.
Two bladed weapons, one made like the head of a sawfish and the other a rusted yet sharp cutlass, came down in front of the door, right where Will's neck would have been.
"Oy Bootstrap! Get yer brat under control ey!" the Bosun growled, shoving him back as Maccus and Angler bared their sharp teeth at the blacksmith.
"Come on, Will," Bootstrap grabbed and tugged Will back by the scruff of his neck.
"I can't just leave her-"
"Ye don't have a choice, lad." Clanker put a large hand on Will's shoulder, pushing him back.
"Stupid boy. Ye think ye could pull a fast one on the Captain and not pay the price? Ha-ha!" Maccus guffawed. "Who knows? Keep this up, and the cap'in might let us have a turn with her when he's done."
Several crewmen laughed, though some, Will noticed, only did so out of fear of the First Mate. Their eyes all turned sadly away from the younger man, unable to meet his eyes for shame or pity as he was dragged squirming by his father down below deck.
"Will-" Bootstrap hissed, pushing Will into the shadows beneath the deck. "Will, that's enough, boy!"
"No-no. I can't let him-"
"William!" His father shouted, grabbing him by both his shoulders and shaking him. "You need to stop, son! Stop."
"How can you say that?" Will snarled at his father. "If that were Mother up there, you would-"
"I know," Bootstrap whispered hoarsely. "I know I would've,"
"Then why won't you let me-"
"Because if you went up there and beat down that door, you'd both be dead or worse." He pushed Will up against a beam, taking advantage of his son's injured back to stop him squirming. "You think you're the first couple Jones has brought aboard this ship? Well, you're not. Jones delights in tearin' people apart. He uses one against the other, uses them to torment one another. The longer ye stay out here and yell, the longer he'll keep Peggy…if only to make you squirm-"
"But if she's up there alone with him," Will finally managed to squirm his way out of his father's grip.
"Aye. And yet she went up there with her head held high." Bootstrap said, gaze hardening. "She knows what kind of demon she's facin'. She trusted you when you took a risk. Now it's your turn."
"She's terrified of him!" Will hissed, and Bootstrap shook his head.
"Maybe, but stormin' into that room won't help her. You want to help her, son, then you wait and be there for her when she gets out. Care for her the way she cared for you. And he will let her out. Jones did not wait thirteen years just to kill her this quickly."
Will opened his mouth to retort, only to bite his lip to stop the groan of pain from escaping him as his injured back throbbed painfully.
He vaguely remembered his father saying something else as he was dragged down below deck and seated on a crate while his father went to the kitchen to get him something to drink.
Why…why was everything he did nowadays just all going wrong?!
This was his plan; he was supposed to take the flack. Jones had no reason to touch Peggy, who was not involved. Will had told her not to intervene and promised her she would not get hurt.
He had promised her!
He had promised her with all his heart he would never let anything harm her again!
Will's hand clenched tight over the bag of dice, only to frown as he realised it was heavier than the first time he had held it.
Carefully, he looked inside, his heart clenching as he saw Peggy's abalone shell necklace mixed in with the whalebone dice. The one trinket she treasured from one of her dearest friends…and she had given it to him for safekeeping.
"She knows what kind of devil she's facin'" That was what his father had said. However, it did little to soothe any of Will's fears.
"I'm going to kill you, Jones," Will whispered to the dark, night air, his voice cold as ice, his heart hammering as he gripped the necklace so tight in his hand his knuckles went white. "I'm going to find the key and the chest, then I'm going to take your godforsaken heart and kill you. My father will be free, and you will never hurt my Peggy again. I swear it...even if it means my soul is doomed to the locker. You will not touch her again. Not while my heart still beats."
"Ye know how ter pick 'em. Don't ya lass?"
Peggy shivered as she knelt on the floor, Davy Jones's shadow looming over her, blocking out any light from his cabin's massive stained-glass window.
"First Sparrow, now this upstart Turner. Two conniving wretches who would stab me in the back when given the chance."
Peggy did not answer. She knew better than to speak unless he ordered her to in these circumstances. Any back-chat would only make the beating worse, and she was already sporting a massive bruise on her neck from where his claw pincer hand had gripped it tight.
"The boy will come after me key. An' if he's after the key, he be hopin' to barter yer freedom an' his no doubt." Davy Jones stroked his chin as he glared down at the girl at his feet "But we won't let it get that far."
"We?" Peggy frowned in confusion, cringing as the Devil stalked around her and slid a tentacled hand to the back of her pants.
"Aye…ye didn't think I'd let ye off the hook so easily, did ye?" Davy Jones hissed as he drew from the waistband of her pants a knife…Will's knife…
Peggy's eyes widened in horror as the captain unsheathed the small weapon and examined its blade.
"Hmm…nice and sharp." He nodded in approval. "The boy's work, I'll bet."
Peggy remained silent,, but Jones's smile widened as he deftly twirled the knife between his fingers, tentacled and normal.
"If or when yer lad decides to make his move – and I'm bettin' it'll be soon – ye are to kill him with this. That," he cut across Peggy's choked sob, "is an order. Disobey it, and yer dead. Oh don' worry. If ye die, I won't kill yer lad. I'll let him live just long enough to see yer corpse. Let him know what his folly has cost him, and after that, we'll see what happens. Either way, one of ye will die by your hand or mine, whichever is the swifter."
"and if he doesn't make a move?" Peggy asked quietly. "What then?"
"Then ye both stay as ye are. Though I highly doubt a whelp like him will stay still fer long." Jones sneered, sheathing the knife and tossing it to the floor before Peggy's knees. "As ye know, I value discretion in me crew. So ye won't be tellin' yer dear beloved any of this. He's been lucky so far, but no more. Ye understand."
"I understand," Peggy whispered staring at the knife before her, as the devil's laughs were drowned by the rolling thunder outside.
Oh old gods of the sea, please have mercy on my damned soul.
Notes:
DUN-DUN-DUUUUUN! Oh boy. Davy Jones is bringing in the heat here.
Yeah, so things are taking a less-than-great turn.
Will is finally figuring out his feelings for Peggy. Bootstrap is trying to step up and be there for his son. Jack is starting to see the effects of Beckett tightening the noose around the Caribbean and Peggy...Yeah...I really am making her suffer a lot (Sorry Peggy).
As for the ending with Davy Jones, I always found it kinda odd that a villain as ruthless and particular as he would be so lax in security after Will made such a blatant bid for the key...and so this happened. He made Peggy into his pawn with her Devil's Mark, unable to let her disobey him.
For reference, I used the official extended version of the Liar's Dice scene from the movie, as well as the explanation of it from a YT clip done by Lord Ravenscroft called "Well, Someone Had to Explain the Liar's Dice Scene...". It's a very good video. I highly recommend watching it as it explains in detail the rules of Liars Dice and all the game theory employed in the scene.
The song Peggy sings in the beginning, is "Fish in the Sea" - Song by Michel Schrey, Nils Brown, and Seán Dagher. which i found when listening to the Assassins Creed: Black Sails Soundtrack. That soundtrack has quite a few nice shanties.
Anyways, hope you all enjoyed and as always keep reading, reviewing, faving and following for more.
FuzzyBeta
Chapter 26: A Thief in Time
Summary:
“For long the two enemies looked at one another, Hook shuddering slightly, and Peter with the strange smile upon his face.
"So, Pan," said Hook at last, "this is all your doing."
"Ay, James Hook," came the stern answer, "it is all my doing."
"Proud and insolent youth," said Hook, "prepare to meet thy doom."
"Dark and sinister man," Peter answered, "have at thee.”
― J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
"Get lost! Ye can rest till the next shift starts. An' remember yer orders."
"Yes, Captain."
Peggy was unsure how long she had spent kneeling on the floor in the captain's cabin of the Flying Dutchman. The perpetual shroud of night the Dutchman sailed beneath meddled with her sense of time. Even as a selkie more attuned to the rise and fall of the tides, she found herself disoriented and adrift.
All she knew was that it had been long enough for her legs to go to sleep and for her head to feel dizzy after she was commanded to her feet.
Besides choking her with his crab claw initially, Davy Jones had not touched her. However, the damage he did inflict was enough to leave a pair of nasty darkening bruises on either side of her neck. From what she had seen of her reflection in the captain's mirror, it would be noticeable – like a choker or a collar.
A morbid reminder for both her and Will of whose leash she was shackled to…
She ignored the crew's stares as she passed them by on her way below deck. Their break had ended some time ago, and they were back to work sailing. There was no storm now, so their movements were less frantic and their moods more relaxed.
Some eyes she caught staring were full of malicious glee, but a majority were looks of pity, especially when they caught sight of the bruises around her neck.
To her surprise, one of the crew, a short man who had mutated into half a shrimp, nodded his head politely to her as she passed and muttered:
"Missus Turner? Yer fella is waitin' fer ye at the bottom of the stairs." He pointed to one of the stairs that led to the kitchens and galley.
"Thank you." Peggy nodded as men stood aside and let her pass.
As expected, she found Will sitting hunched on a crate in the shadows below the stairs, his head bowed and his face glum as he picked and chewed his nails.
She had never seen him look so miserable. Not even his beatings from Mister Brown as a boy had achieved this effect on him.
It's all my fault. She thought glumly, barely heeding the tiny sting in her chest. This is why we couldn't be together. From the mess with Barbossa to this…all I do is draw him into more misery and hardship. He'd be better off with someone who won't drag him down like this.
She stiffened as Will suddenly raised a hand to his chest to rub against it, his head turning to check his surroundings. He leapt to his feet when he saw her standing at the foot of the stairs.
"Peg!" He gasped, brown eyes brightening as he strode to her and grabbed her by the shoulders. "I'm sorry-I-I didn't hear you come down. Are you alright? What did Jones do to you? My god, your neck…"
"It's not that bad." Peggy muttered as he carefully tilted her head to examine the bruising around her neck, "Looks worse than it feels."
"You're not hurt anywhere else?" Will gulped as he began to pat the rest of her down.
"Knees are sore, but that's just from kneeling on the floor for a bit." Peggy snorted softly. "One of his favourite punishments. You sit there, kneel in silence, and wait for the blow that may or may not come. It really drives some mad."
"I can imagine." Will sighed in relief. "You don't seem all that rattled"
"The less you react to his punishment, the more bored he gets. Eventually, he leaves you alone." Peggy shrugged
Will grimaced but chose not to comment. She did not sound too out of sorts, but then he remembered the sting in his chest just before he saw her.
"There's more, isn't there?" He murmured, hand cupping her freckled cheek. "Did he say something to you?"
Peggy shut her eyes in dismay. Oh yes, how could she forget about that little tidbit?
"He…he gave me orders…" She gulped, holding up her right wrist to show him Jones's mark.
Now, the ink from the black ring was spreading into her palm. All the blood vessels were so stained that her hand had taken on a strange, sickly green hue punctuated by the reddening of the skin.
Will shivered in disgust and horror at the sight. It looked eerily like the beginnings of gangrene, yet her hand was still soft and full of life.
"He wants you to stop me, doesn't he?" Will groaned as he leaned his forehead against hers. "He's trying to use you against me like you said."
Peggy stayed silent, but Will could tell from how she avoided his gaze that he had hit the nail on the head.
"But he's still allowing you to stay by my side."
"For now", Peggy muttered slowly and carefully, keeping her senses pricked on her wrist for any sign of pain or unnatural discomfort. If there was one thing she had learned at Jack Sparrow's knees, it was the importance of choosing one's words with care. Besides, she had only promised the Devil she would not tell Will about her task; he had never mentioned anything about Will guessing it for himself.
She supposed she should have counted herself lucky Will knew how to read her like a book.
"Will…" She gulped. "You need to leave me behind."
"Peggy-"
"Will…I can't leave this ship." She showed him her wrist again. "Don't tell me when you do…whatever it is you have to do. Not even in passing. Don't say goodbye. Don't let me see you leave…" She trailed off as her mark prickled warningly.
"Fine. I'll leave you behind if that stops Jones from hurting you." Will groaned in dismay, though his gaze was quick to steel itself. "But once I find what I need, I'm coming back for you."
"No, don't-"
"No." Will shook his head. "No. Please do not argue with me anymore about this. I'm coming back for you and freeing you from this ship, end of story. Now that I know what fresh hell this place is, I cannot leave you here, no matter what you say. "
Peggy sighed in exasperation as she leaned her head forward to rest against his chest. After kneeling in that frigid cabin, his body heat was so soothing.
"God, you're freezing," Will mumbled as he wrapped his arms around her, only to wince as he felt her temperature. He pulled away to rub her hands in his, blowing on her knuckles to warm them with his breath.
As he warmed her fingers, Will noticed for the first time how puffy her blue-grey eyes were and the dark circles surrounding them. She needed real rest in a proper bed in a safe place. Somewhere, she didn't have to fear for her life or worry about looking after him.
"Here," he whispered, his hands wrapping around her neck. His heart sank a little as she flinched at the motion. However, she quickly relaxed as she felt the familiar cold touch of metal against her skin.
She looked down and saw her abalone shell necklace lying on her breast.
"Thanks." She sighed in relief. "I…I didn't want him to find Jack's note."
"I figured." Will rested his forehead against hers, keeping his arms around her. "I'm sorry I put you in this position. I swear when I challenged Jones, I did not think he would-"
"I know you didn't," Peggy whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face into his shoulder. I don't blame you at all."
"You should," Will groaned into her neck. "I promised you I wouldn't let him hurt you, and then I just gave you to him on a silver platter-"
"He was going to find an excuse to use me to torment you no matter what you did," Peggy whispered. "At least…at least something good came out of it. We know how far he will go to protect the key, and I now know where my pelt is."
"You do?" Will frowned, and Peggy nodded.
"Yes, it's in the captain's cabin. He keeps it in a corner behind a tapestry of Poseidon on the starboard wall. Bastard doesn't even bother to hide it that well." She added bitterly.
"Probably because he doesn't think anyone will dare to steal it," Will muttered, frowning as he saw her trying to hide a sniffle. Now that he looked closer, her skin was far paler than before and was starting to turn a little blue. "Come on. Let's get you in the warm. You are almost frozen solid."
It seemed like no time when Will took her back to the kitchen, warmed her by the fire, and ushered her into that crammed bed. There, she fell asleep almost instantly, her exhaustion finally catching up.
Luckily for them both, Peggy had already prepped all the ingredients for the next shift's meals, so Bootstrap could quickly put it all together while she was cloistered away in the captain's cabin.
Even as Peggy curled to sleep after eating, the next shift came down for their meal and was surprisingly quiet as Bootstrap gave them their rations. Some spared Peggy a few looks of sympathy, though some glowered at her with undisguised loathing.
To Will's surprise, no one hounded him about not returning above deck for his next shift. Instead, they ignored him as he sat and ate on the edge of the makeshift bed by Peggy's side, only rising to his feet when his father shuffled to the door on the orders of the Bosun at the end of the meal rush.
Will felt guilty and was about to vouch for his father, but Bootstrap bade him to stay put.
"She'll need you more than I will," Bootstrap said gently but firmly as he put a hand up to stop Will following him out the door. "Jones is quiet now, but he will probably set his dogs on her the second you have yer back turned, and Silver can do nothin' in his chair." He jerked his head towards the aged man, snoring soundly in his chair by the fire.
"That's the thing." Will sighed heavily. "I don't think he will do that."
"What do you mean?" Bootstrap frowned.
"Peggy…she…well, she can't tell me what's going on because of her, y'know…" Will gestured to his wrist and said, "But from what I can tell, I think Jones gave her orders to sabotage whatever we do."
"Hmm, that does sound about right." Bootstrap nodded gravely as he pushed Will to sit back on the bed. "If I know the captain, he'll have probably asked her to kill ye. Jones doesn't like leavin' loose ends, and I daresay it would amuse his bloodlust to watch two lovers kill the other."
"Because he is so bitter about the love he lost?" Will wondered aloud, only to jolt as a withered voice muttered softly behind him:
"That's what happens when ye pledge yer love to one of the Old Gods. You end up courtin' tragedy for the rest of yer life."
"Old Gods?" Will frowned, turning around to see old Silver sitting in his chair. His wizened face was oddly alert, and his dark eyes gleamed keenly as he folded his hands in his lap.
"Aye, a sea goddess. Calypso, daughter of the Titan, Atlas. Nurturer and destroyer of man. 'Twas she who held the great warrior Odysseus on her island for seven years, waylaying his voyage home until Hermes, the messenger of the gods, delivered the order from Zeus himself to free her captive. Heartbroken and fearing Zeus's wrath, she fled here to the Caribbean, where she was worshipped for centuries by seafarers and sea children alike. Her magic is powerful, as is her dominion of the oceans. Until she was bound in human flesh by the First Brethren Court."
"Bound in human flesh?" Will frowned as he carefully approached the old man, determined to hear more.
"Aye," Silver coughed and resettled his blankets over his lap. "Bound her to mortal form they did. An incantation of ancient times. And in doing so, they left us all open to a greater threat."
"How do you know all this?" Will tilted his head, and Silver snorted.
"Because I was there, boy. I was there the day they bound her. Watched it all happen."
"You were a member of the First Brethren Court?" Bootstrap frowned. "Ye never mentioned that before."
"Ye never asked." Silver snorted bitterly. "No one ever does."
"If you were a member of the Brethren Court, then why would you stay here on this ship?" Will's brow furrowed. "You must have already served your hundred years."
"Aye, I did. But I chose to stay on." Silver shrugged. "So many stories…so much history to see in the making. So much to write-"
"Write?" Will felt something tingle in his mind. "You were a scribe?"
"More than a scribe, son. I was THE scribe." Silver sniffed haughtily. "I sailed under the colours of Captain James Haken."
"James Haken?"
"He means Old Captain Hook-"
Will looked up to see Peggy still in bed. Her eyes were open, and she turned to face them.
"-the first king of the Brethren Court," Peggy mumbled tiredly.
"I see ye managed ter pick up a book or two when you were gone." Silver snorted.
"Yes. I sure did," Peggy smirked. "Mister Stafford."
Will felt something click in his mind like a key in a lock.
"Percival Stafford? As in the Tales of the Deep?"
"Ah,h you've seen my book then?" Silver's face split into a wrinkly grin. "I did wonder if any copies survived after all these years."
"Aye. One did. It's on the Pearl now." Peggy mumbled. "as far as Jack's concerned,d that thing has pretty much become his bible."
"Wait, you're the Sage of the Brethren Court?" Bootstrap's eyes widened. "What the hell are you doin' here on the Dutchman? Why would you choose to stay here?"
"I wanted to hear more stories." Silver shrugged, "And where better to sit by the fire and hear stories from all over the world than a ship of the dead and damned. Though I have to say, it was getting quite stale until you two lovebirds came along." Silver chuckled, and Will felt his gut fall in horror. All those times he and Peggy had talked about what happened between them and their plans, and they thought he was asleep…had he been asleep? Or was it all just a ruse? Was the old doddering man by the fireside just a cover for his eavesdropping? Had he been spying on them for Jones-
"Relax, boy, I won't rat you out to the captain." Silver winked at Will "Not when the two of ye are keepin' things interesting around here. There ain't been a challenge to the old squid for a long time. He needs a shakeup now and then to keep from getting too big for his breeches."
"Glad we could entertain," Peggy mumbled, wincing as her bruised throat ached.
"BOOTSTRAP!" a man's voice shouted from above, and Bootstrap winced at the volume.
"I should get goin'. Rest up, you two. I'll be back soon." He grunted, a small smile gracing his blue lips as he watched Will help settle Peggy back into the bed.
"Stay safe." Will nodded at his father as Silver yawned wide and sank back into his chair.
"Yer leavin'? good. Now I can get a proper quiet nap."
"Lazy coot," Peggy whispered, glaring as the ancient man in the chair shut his eyes and snored almost immediately. "All he does is nap."
"Speaking of naps, you should lie back." Will hissed at her as he pressed her back into the thin excuse of a mattress. "You're exhausted."
"Nothing I haven't dealt with before."
"Still, you must rest. You've hardly slept a wink since we arrived." Will grimaced as he smoothed her curls from her face.
"You're one to talk," Peggy grumbled. "How's your back? And don't lie. I saw you rubbing it earlier."
"It's fine. No infection so far from what I can tell." Will grunted. "Just bruises, that's all."
"And you're not going back on shift till the next one?"
"No."
"Then that means you can sleep too," Peggy mumbled grumpily, grabbing his sleeve and tugging it.
Despite himself, Will felt a smile creeping up his lips as he carefully shed his boots and slid into the bed beside her, pulling the raggedy curtain over the side to hide them both in semi-darkness. Now, the only light was a small yellow lantern outside the tear in the curtain on the opposite wall. In the dimness, Will watched in worry as Peggy quickly melted into him, her fingers curling into his shirt.
"Sorry." She mumbled. "But you're warm."
"I don't mind. So long as you feel better that's all that matters." He stroked a lock of hair behind her ear. "So…Old Captain Hook, huh?"
"I know, right? Pirates and their nicknames." Peggy snorted. "The story goes that one of his cabin boys, Peter Pannell, betrayed him, seduced his daughter and stole a valuable enchanted artefact from his treasure horde. To add insult to injury, Pannell killed Haken's lover and first mate, Belle Tinkerman, by accident after serving her a tonic that was supposed to knock her out for a few hours, only to poison her by giving her too much. As you can imagine, with his lover dead and his greatest treasure stolen, Haken was furious and vowed vengeance on Pannell. Months passed, and Haken hunted Pannell down to an island, where he found the lad in a swamp trying to outrun a crocodile. They fought, and in the skirmish, the boy cut off his hand and tossed it into the water, where it is believed the crocodile ate it and proceeded to hunt down Haken through the swamp, hungry for more. Luckily, Haken was rescued by his first mate, but from that day on, his hand was replaced by a large silver hook and his dreams were forever plagued by a crocodile hunting him in a swamp."
"And Pannell?"
"They say he ran into the swamp laughing with Haken's daughter and disappeared, never to be seen again. Some say they died in the swamp together." Peggy yawned. "But no one knows what really happened."
"And the treasure? What was it?"
"No one knows for certain. Some say it was a pocket watch or a clock, enchanted to tell the time of death of any who held it; others say it was a compass pointing to your heart's greatest desire. All who know the legend agree that the treasure was circular and had a needle in the middle that pointed to something and that nothing of it was seen since Pannell disappeared."
Peggy shrugged tiredly, her heart aching at the sight of the eagerness that lit up Will's eyes. He looked just like that innocent, excitable boy she used to read stories to by the fire all those years ago…
"What?" Will's brow furrowed as he saw her give a wan, tired smile.
"Nothing…" Peggy murmured, carefully turning over onto her other back, her head turned so it faced the wall instead of his face "Goodnight, Will."
"…goodnight Peg," Will murmured, brow furrowing in concern as her breathing deepened alarmingly fast as she succumbed to her exhaustion.
She was never one to collapse like that unless she had pushed herself to the extreme. Usually, she liked to sit up and read or lie awake and slowly drift off. Now lying here so still, so cold, so pale…
A shiver ran down Will's spine as an image of his mother's sickly face lying peacefully on white linen sheets crossed his mind, and he shook his head hard to dispel it.
No. He shouldn't think like that.
Peggy was not dead yet.
She still had time. She was still breathing; he could see her chest rise and fall even now as she curled onto her side away from him.
But still…Tia Dalma had given her only weeks to live. Weeks…days…that was all the time he had. And to make matters worse, he was finding it hard to keep track of time. The Flying Dutchman always seemed shrouded in shadow as the ship chased the night across the ocean. According to Silver, it had only been one and a half days since Will and Peggy's arrival, but to Will, it already felt like ten years had passed.
What if he didn't make it off the ship in time? Or worse, what if he made it off the boat and got delayed returning? By the time he came back, Peggy might already be…
No! Don't think that way!
He felt her shift onto her back again as she tried to find a comfortable position, and instinctively, he rolled over onto her, shutting his eyes as he tried to force himself to sleep.
It may have been inappropriate, but it was the only way Will could ensure that she stayed put and did not move without his knowledge.
Now she had given up and was deep in sleep, her eyelids twitching as she drifted in dreams, her arms limp as they curled around his neck, one resting between his shoulder blades and the other in his hair as she cradled him into her breast. Will had to admit it was comfortable laying with her like this. He had never once dared to hold her like this in his sleep for fear of her reaction…for fear of being inappropriate. God, he had been so stupid.
Will sighed heavily as he nuzzled his nose into Peggy's collarbone, enjoying how her body shifted beneath him to accommodate his weight.
How could he ever be afraid of being so close like this? It was so warm and soft. Her salty, spicy scent surrounded him and drowned out the acrid, fishy smell of the Dutchman, while the steady up-and-down of her chest was calming, like the way the ocean rocked a hammock.
Best of all was the gentle thumping of her heartbeat against his ear. Will had thought that since her heart was broken, it would somehow sound broken, too. But no, it was still beating strong. He still had time to hold her close…make things right…
A small part of him wondered if his feelings for Peggy were merely physical and not emotional. Was he clinging to her because she was there? Would he have reacted similarly if Elizabeth had been in her place?
He had agreed to marry Elizabeth and to live a life with her. Yet now, in Peggy's arms, all he could think about was how he could return with her to that dingy little apartment above that forge and live safe and sound away from it all, even if it meant dealing with Mister Brown's drunken ravings every day.
Was he missing home? Did he want to run back to the safety of the familiar to avoid the danger of an uncertain future?
Again, his mind rebelled against the idea.
Yes, he had missed his life with Peggy…but it was not because of the creature comforts she gave him.
She had made that hovel a home simply by standing there with him…she could make any place feel like home. Even here on the terrible Flying Dutchman, Will felt at peace in her arms.
The thought of it all being gone in a couple of weeks was so awful he could hardly bear to think about it. Watching her vanish into Jones's quarters was hard enough without his heart flying out of his chest.
He knew Peggy only said she was giving up or would pass on soon because she was trying not to give herself or him false hope. However, Will could not accept this. He had no choice but to; the alternative was too sad and dreadful to consider. This year alone, he had discovered a new side to her he had never seen before, and he wanted more.
He wanted more time with her. More time to talk, to hold her…to kiss her…He had kissed her on the head and cheek so many times before, and he had tossed those moments away so flippantly. He was such an idiot that it had taken her being at Death's doorstep for him to realise how precious each touch was. And then there was that accidental kiss on the Black Pearl and their kiss that night before Isla De Muerta.
If only Will could kiss her again, not by accident or because of alcohol, but just for himself as a man. Then he'd know that his emotions for her were more than passing lust, curiosity or desperation.
He grimaced and remembered Peggy's turn away after they boarded the Dutchman. Worse still was how disappointed he had felt at her rejection. She had said she loved him so much that she was dying from a broken heart, yet she kept turning away from him when she could have had him to herself. Why?
Because she doesn't want to be the other woman, idiot!
A small voice sneered at Will.
She knows it's wrong for her to pursue you while you are betrothed to another. She's trying to do the right thing, unlike YOU.
The voice was right, of course. He was an engaged man. He shouldn't have been trying to be so intimate with Peggy when he was promised to wed another.
But he…he had to know…
He had to know if his feelings were real, as awful as it was. Or was it just like Peggy had said, and was it just his selfish desire to play the gallant hero rearing its ugly head again?
Now that he thought about why he had been so determined to chase after Elizabeth? Will could not deny feeling a certain, almost child-like thrill throughout his adventures six months ago. Fighting pirates, actually taking charge of his own life. Exploring new places, meeting interesting new people who had travelled and lived and not the same boring rich snobs who never left their sheltered bubbles and told the same stories repeatedly over lukewarm tea. Being freed from the chains of propriety and talking with people from all walks of life as equals…Being beside a woman who loved him unconditionally without constantly fretting about embarrassing her because of his humbler upbringing.
The thudding of booted feet was loud outside the door, and Will scowled as Peggy stirred beneath him and grumbled.
"Wassat?"
"Nothing Peg. Just the crew. Go back to sleep." He whispered as he carefully raised his head to look at her.
"Mmkay. G'night," Peggy mumbled sleepily, eyes shutting as she melted back into the thin straw mattress.
Will stared down at her as he hovered over her on his elbows.
Her face was so relaxed, so peaceful. He could see the slightest trace of a smile gracing the corners of her lips. It was the first time he had seen her so calm in his presence since she left him six months ago.
He was so close he could taste her breath with every inhale…so close…all he had to do was-
NO!
Will stopped his lips a hair's breadth from touching hers.
No…as tempting as it was, this was wrong.
I can't kiss her like that. Will shook his head in shame as he moved his lips to peck her cheek instead before he resettled himself with his head against her heart.
Not like this. No matter how much I want to, it will never be right. If I kissed her like that now, I'd be no better than her father, keeping a lover in secret while being promised to another. No. That would not be fair on either her or Elizabeth.
No… matter what he felt for Peggy and Elizabeth, neither woman deserved to be hurt like that.
Not like when Norrington was strung along so brutally. The same nasty voice from earlier hissed in his mind.
Will bristled as the memory of Norrington's heartbroken face washed over his mind.
That poor man who had most likely died at sea disgraced and dejected at such a loss.
Will remembered watching the officer at his engagement party slowly losing the battle to sorrow and inebriation. Will had reservations about inviting the man after all that had happened at Jack's botched execution, but Elizabeth had assured him it would be fine. No… assured was not quite the right word.
She had declared it would be fine and that Norrington would have put the whole mess behind him because it was his duty as an officer of the Crown.
But he did not put it behind him. Even duty has its limits. Everyone else could see that, so why couldn't she?
Will's mouth twisted as he sighed into Peggy's clavicle.
If Will had had a say in the invitations in the first place, he would have strongly protested the arrangement. Or he would have invited Norrington out of courtesy but quietly offered him a legitimate excuse to back out at the last minute to spare him the humiliation. That would have been the kinder option.
It was cruel that Elizabeth would not heed Norrington's hurt feelings and invite him to witness her happiness with his rival so soon after his public humiliation. Will did not believe the cruelty was intentional; however, in a way, that almost made the situation worse.
Even if she had not meant to be cruel intentionally, was Elizabeth really that naïve that she could not understand the damage their actions had caused her old fiancé? Indeed, she must have figured that inviting a man who had so clearly loved and valued her to watch her wed someone else would hurt him even more. And if she knew, why did she still bother inviting him?
Or was it naivete?
Will knew he had been naïve when it came to Peggy's suffering. As selfish as he was, he had never purposefully set out to harm her. His damage was more accidental. When he wanted something, he tended to charge ahead without thought like a bull, knocking her out of the way, not out of malice, but more tunnel-visioned singlemindedness. He knew it was no excuse for the damage he caused, but he never purposefully set out to hurt Peggy.
But Elizabeth…she had knowingly used Norrington's marriage proposal to get her way. She had to know that if she broke her word to the man, he would be hurt. Yes, Norrington was prim and proper, but Will had seen from their brief time on the Dauntless that he had cared for Elizabeth, and if his downward spiral was any indication, he had cared about her a lot.
Yet, for all Will had seen of his fiancé over the past few months, Elizabeth did not seem to have any remorse for her actions. She truly did not care about what happened to the man after he had lost all usefulness so long as her happiness remained undisputed.
Just think…that could have been you.
Will shivered as a chill went down his spine at the thought.
Hell, if she was willing to toss a loving and loyal man like Norrington aside to get what she wants, what's stopping her from doing that to you? Who's to say it hasn't happened already?
Will shuddered and sucked in a deep breath as he tried to banish the awful thought from his mind.
No! No! That could not be true.
Yes, Elizabeth had not handled the Norrington situation well, but that didn't necessarily mean she would do the same to him. She loved him. She had told Will she loved him and had agreed to marry him…
And all the while, he was chasing another woman for her affection…and it was the woman he had tossed aside to be with Elizabeth in the first place. A very warm, loving, devoted woman he had doomed twice to hell because of his selfishness.
I must free Peggy first. Will thought stubbornly.
Whether I feel anything for her or not, she deserves to be free of Jones. Then, I must find Elizabeth and cancel our engagement or put the wedding on hold until I figure out how to stop Peggy from dying.
And then what? The small voice in his brain sneered. What will you choose then? Who will you choose?
Will sighed heavily.
No… that didn't matter right now. Right now, it wasn't about choosing one woman over the other; it was about doing what was right and making sure it was done the right way.
Yes. Whatever was done in the past was done. But whatever he did moving forward had to be done the right way. Even if he did not have feelings for Peggy, he knew he could not marry Elizabeth while his heart was in such a mess.
Nor could he marry her if he knew it would kill the other woman in his life he cared about.
No wedding, not even one to Elizabeth Swann, was worth that much.
"LAND HO!"
"Ahh, Tortuga. There be a sight for sore eyes." Gibbs sighed in relief as he caught sight of the familiar pirate port on the distant horizon.
"You really think she'll be there?" a young voice mumbled, and Gibbs looked down to see young Jimmy Labelle standing beside him at the railing.
After a night's solid rest, a bath, fresh clothes and medical treatment, the boy looked remarkably better. One of his arms was in a sling and splint to keep a fractured wrist in place, and the blow to the head was bandaged up, but so far, he seemed to be walking about steadily even on the swaying ship.
Jack had not given his young nephew anything to do save rest, but, like all young adolescents, Jimmy was not one to sit still for long, though he remained subdued.
"I'm not sure where yer ma is, boy, but Tortuga has a lot of eyes and ears about. If she's been through there, we'll hear it." Gibbs patted the young boy on the shoulder. "How's the head feelin'?"
"Not too bad. It's me ribs, honestly." Jimmy muttere,d glancing about the deck. "What happened to Peggy? I slept in her bed last night, but I haven't seen her anywhere,e and Sloane won't tell me nothin'-"
"Oh Pegs…she's…" Gibbs gulped. Oh goodness, how would he explain the mess with Jones to the kid? Would the captain give him hell for it or not? "She's…on an errand fer the captain."
"Errand?" Jimmy narrowed his eyes, and Gibbs sighed as he was reminded fiercely of Jack's kohl-lined brown eyes. Damn, the family resemblance was disconcerting.
"Aye, yer uncle is huntin' down this chest, see, but the problem is that the key to this chest is not with the chest but on this other ship. Unfortunately, Jack's only got three days to find both the chest and the key so he sent Turner and Pegs to-"
"-To steal the key while we go and find the chest." Jimmy finished, and Gibbs nodded. "But how are they going to catch up with us in three days if they're somewhere out there."
"The captain of the ship they're on knows the location of the treasure," Gibbs explained. So once they get the key and the information, they should be able to find us quickly…if everything goes to plan."
"Uncle Jack really does leave a lot to chance." Jimmy sighed. "Anything could go wrong at any moment."
"Aye, Jimmy, it could." A new voice piped in from behind the boy and the older sailor, making them jump.
They wheeled around to see Jack Sparrow standing behind them with a small, pleased grin and a twinkle in his eye.
"But that's all part of the fun."
"Boy was wonderin' where Peggy was," Gibbs explained as the captain shot him a questioning look.
"Ahh, Pegsy. She'll be fine, boy, don't you worry." Jack waved Jimmy off. "She survived bein' on the wrong end of Barbossa. She can survive that mad bastard."
"And Mum?" Jimmy looked back at the seaport on the horizon.. "Do you think we'll find her in Tortuga?"
Jack paused. Usually, he had no problem being brutally honest in times like this. But this was different. Jimmy was family, not just family, but a real decent kid…or as decent as one could be after growing up with cutthroat and conniving pirates like Jack and his family. Whatever caution Jack felt towards his older sister, he had to admit she had raised her son well. Jack did not doubt that he'd be a great pirate when he got older.
"Honestly, Jimbo…I…I dunno if we are going to find yer mum there." Jack answered carefully, patting a ringed hand on his nephew's shoulder. "But I do know this, yer mom might be a conniving, double-crossing, back-stabbing infuriatingly know-it-all wenc-"
"Ahem!" Gibbs coughed, hiding his smirk behind his hand as Jack smoothly changed tack.
"-Wwooman. I was going to say, woman. But as a mother, aye, as a mother, I know she would never abandon you on purpose. Now, I'm not sayin' she will or won't be in Tortuga. Hell, I don't know if she's dead or alive; I ain't a bloody soothsayer, ey. All I'm sayin' is that there is a good chance of findin' something in Tortuga. Maybe whispers, maybe rumours. Hell, yer Ma might arrive after we leave. But whatever the case may be, goin' to Tortuga is the best chance you have right now of findin' what happened to her or letting her find you. People talk, and if we leave before she arrives at Tortuga, she'll be able to follow the whispers and find us. Whatever happens, at least you have a chance. Savvy?"
"I…I think so." Jimmy nodded as he tried to decipher the confusing jumble of words. "But if she's going to find me, then wouldn't it be better if I stayed behind when you-"
"Outta the question!" Jack and Gibbs exclaimed together, the latter bowing his head as Jack shot him a look.
"Leave you in Tortuga alone like this?" Jack gestured to the boy's bandaged head and arm. "Nah Jim. I like ye and all, but your ma would viciously slaughter me in my sleep if I let ye go off on yer own in this sorry state. And if she's dead, her ghost would come back to haunt me somethin' fierce. And I've had my share of undead hauntings to last me a lifetime." He looked at Gibbs, and they both shivered. "The only place she'd trust me to leave ye behind would be back with the Old Man at Shipwreck Cove, and we ain't gonna be going that way for a while. So until we find out what happened to yer ma, yer to stay with me. Captain's orders."
He gently ruffled Jimmy's hair and turned to Gibbs.
"Get us to land, Mister Gibbs. We've got work to do and a barrel of rum with my name on it."
Will Turner held his breath as he tiptoed through the door.
All was silent. Nothing stirred in the Captain's Cabin of the Flying Dutchman…not even the Captain himself.
Will could see him at the far end opposite the door, seated on a piano stool with his body bent over onto the keys.
A soft snoring sound filled the air, nearly syncing in time with the creaking of wood as the ship swayed gently side to side like a cradle in the calmer seas.
Will carefully crept forward, thanking his lucky stars that the large long damp carpet beneath him dampened his footsteps. He didn't even dare open his mouth, only breathing through his nose for fear of the sound echoing against the organ's massive pipes that loomed up and overshadowed half the room.
Will had never seen such a musical instrument in his life. He had seen the pipe organ at the church on Port Royal, but that was a tiny pathetic toy compared to this monstrosity.
It was huge, and each pipe seemed made of a tubular piece of coral. The woman in the stained glass window above seemed to be smiling eerily down at him as if every move he made towards the sleeping captain was for her entertainment.
Will wondered if it was a picture of Jones's lost love—that Heathen Goddess Calypso.
If so, she was a formidable figure to behold.
Will wondered how such a union could have been possible, at least in this day and age.
He knew Peggy and Sloane swore by the old gods like Poseidon rather than the Lord Almighty, but he had chalked it up to them being superstitious like pirates. To think old gods of the sea were surviving till this day and age and living amongst humans? Falling for them, cursing them…
Will silently sucked in a deep, bracing breath as he reached Jones's side, praying that neither clawed nor tentacled hand would reach out and throttle him.
However, no movement came.
Davy Jones slumped in his chair, shoulders and head bent, his mouth moving in soundless mutters and soft snores.
Well…here goes nothing.
"Look lively, men! We've got only one night, and we don't want to waste it. Mister Gibbs, you, Mister Sloane, and young Jimbo will follow me to the Twelve Daggers. The rest of your lot, get this lady re-stocked and ready to sail again! Chop-chop!"
Ronan Sloane glowered as he followed Jack Sparrow, Gibbs and Jimmy off the gangplank and onto the pier of Tortuga's wharf.
To everyone's surprise they had been able actually to secure a safe mooring at one of the piers.
Then again, with how many pirate ships the EITC were gunning down these days, there weren't as many ships out there.
But that was not what had Sloane seething.
He could not believe it.
He really could not believe Jack Sparrow would be able to pull off a stunt like this. Sending that annoying whelp Will Turner over aboard the Flying Dutchman was one thing. Served the boy right for all the crap he had pulled.
But leaving Peggy Blake, the last selkie of the Caribbean, in the hands of the Devil of the Deep?
That was nearly traitorous.
Worse still Peggy herself had been in debt to such a creature FOR YEARS.
Sloane remembered the smell of the mark on the other selkie woman's wrist, and even now, his hackles rose.
Just what was Jack Sparrow playing at? Letting her go to such a creature?
Why hadn't she fought back?
Fools, bloody fools, the lot of them. He thought savagely as he stomped after Jack, keeping Jimmy square in front of him with a hand on his shoulder so he would not slip away.
Despite promising to obey his uncle's command, the boy was as wily as the rest of his family. If you gave him an inch, he'd slip out of your grasp like an eel.
However, it would seem his anxiousness to find his mother kept his usual rambunctiousness in check as they were ushered in through a side door of the Twelve Daggers by a very irate and harried Annamaria.
"Ye lot did choose to come at an awful time." the woman snarled at Jack. "I don' have any rooms available at all! With the EITC shootin' up all them ships we've been packed since ye last left."
"Not to worry, Anna." Gibbs responded on his captain's behalf, "We won't be stayin' the night. We're just 'ere recruitin', that's all, and getting' some rum and grub."
"Recruiting?" Annamaria frowned suspiciously, now looking around at their small group. "What happened to yer crew? Where's Peggy?" her eyes narrowed dangerously on Jack as she added, "And where's that whelp? Has he gone and gotten her in trouble again?"
"Actually, no. It's the opposite." Jack's smirk fell into a grimace as he muttered to the pirate turned inn-keeper. "I'll tell ya about it later. This ain't news for waggling ears."
"Fine," Annamaria grumbled though Sloane could see the worry brewing in her brown eyes as she looked down at Jimmy's bandaged head and arm. "Ay-yai-yai! What happened to ye ,Jimmy boy? You've gotten all roughed up." She reached out to gently tilt Jimmy's face from side to side.
"The company," the boy blushed in embarrassment at the woman's fussing. "the Painted Lady she was…"
"Sunk." Annamaria sighed heavily. "Aye, I know. Been the talk of the town for two days now."
"Any survivors?" Sloane asked, squeezing Jimmy's shoulder reassuringly.
"A few." Annamaria nodded.
"And Jacquelin?" Jack quirked a brow curiously.
Now Annamaria shifted very uncomfortably on her feet.
"She's alive…or at least that's what Franky and Griffin told me." She sucked in a deep breath and said softly. "The Company have her. They took her just before they sunk the Lady good and proper."
"No! No, that can't be true!" Jimmy cried ou,t and at a look from Jack, Sloane grabbed the boy to stop him from moving. "No! The EITC can't have mum! They'll kill her."
"No, they won't." Sloane muttered, "If I know Lord Beckett, he will keep Captain Labelle alive. She's too high up in the Court to kill off so easily."
"Mister Sloane is right, Jimmy," Jack murmured, stroking his twin-plaited beard thoughtfully, though everyone could see his gaze had turned unnaturally cold even as he tried to smile and ruffle his nephew's hair. "But I wouldn't worry too much about it. This ain't the first time the red coats caught yer ma, and each time she got out of it with her crooked tail squeaky clean."
So…he's not quite as oblivious as I thought. Sloane's teeth gritted as he watched the pirate captain order Annamaria to set aside a table to be cleared out for Gibbs to sit at and start recruiting.
As the innkeeper and her brothers moved to fulfil the request, Sloane quickly steered his charge to another table in a corner where he ordered a round of drinks and some food, his green eyes drifting over each patron in turn.
Nearly all were drunken and wasted pirates. If any were working for the EITC like he had been, it would be difficult to spot them in this mess.
There was too much going on at once.
Fights and brawls, loud music and singing, drunken roars and swaying. Women and men writhing in dark corners as they gave into vice and debauchery.
Had this been any other time, Sloane would have drunk in the hedonistic anarchy with much gusto and glee. A lot of selkies enjoyed such freewheeling company-
He paused in his musings as he spotted a dark-clad figure standing and leaning against a pillar.
The figure was familiar: an older man garbed in dark clothes and with a scar across his face.
What's that reptile doing here? Sloane froze in horror, quickly excusing himself from Jack and Jimmy's company as he slid away from their table to meld into the shadows.
This wasn't good. After all the drama of the last few days, he had utterly forgotten his first assignment. If Beckett thought him a traitor now…
He quickly slid down at the bar and slipped out a small journal tucked away in his dark shirt.
It would not be the neatest report, but it would have to do.
He had worked too hard for too long for his cover to be blown so severely.
He kept his message to the point and truthful. Lying right now was not in his best interest. True, he could not reveal his involvement with the brethren court or his true allegiance to his clan, but so far, Beckett had never been able to poke holes into his backstory.
He had just about signed off his note when he felt hot air breathing down his neck.
"Well, well, well. Mister Sloane, fancy seeing you here."
"Mister Mercer," Sloane muttered, quickly tearing off the paper from the journal before tearing out another sheet and folding it into a makeshift envelope. "What brings you to my humble stomping grounds."
"Oh, not much," Mercer smirked as he oh-so-casually sat down by his side at the bar, eyeing him with almost sadistic pleasure. "Just business. Our boss has not heard from you for a while, so he sent me in his stead to check your progress. How fortuitous it is that you returned to this hovel tonight. If you hadn't, I'd have been forced to send our men to scour the oceans to find you and check on your progress. Make sure nothing happened to you while you were in the company of these…degenerates." He added softly, his voice a snake's hiss.
"Fortunate indeed that you found me then." Sloane forced a smile to his face, though his green eyes were cold and disgusted for the man beside him. "I was wondering how I was going to send a message across to our boss. There have been some interesting developments, and I'm sure he wants to know as soon as possible. Developments relating to his eldest daughter and the Turner boy." Sloane slid the hastily made envelope to his fellow clerk, who took it and turned it over in his hand.
"I know it's not my most stellar work, but I do not have much time," Sloane admitted. "I am leaving at first light with the Pearl, and I need to stay sharp tonight."
"And mister Turner and Miss Beckett? I don't see either with you tonight." Mercer's eyes narrowed suspiciously at Sloane, who grimaced.
"All will be explained in my report. Bosses eyes only."
"O,h I would never dream of opening our master's private messages." Mercer rolled his eyes as he pocketed the envelope into the inner pocket of his long coat. "Not even yours."
"Good." Sloane snorted. "Because this is not something you want getting out."
"Speaking of getting out. Here's some new orders from the top." Mercer slid another small envelope made from paler and thicker card paper across the grubby countertop to Sloane, who took it and opened it swiftly.
His eyes widened as he scanned the page inside.
"No…no way…" he looked up at Mercer, who was scowling and bristling angrily.
"You're kidding?"
"I wish I was," Mercer grunted. "But alas, it is true."
"She just left? On her own? She's so young-"
"That didn't stop her sister." Mercer snarled fingers flexing around the hilt of a small knife on his belt. "I trust you will keep an eye out and report immediately if you see her?"
"Yes…yes, of course. Naturally,"
"Then our business is done. If you happen to be delayed in leaving and require my services then I am lodging at the Faithful Bride. Goodnight."
"Goodnight." Sloane nodded, hardly heeding the man as he slid smoothly away from the bar to slip back into the shadows
Oh, by Poseidon. The corners of the selkie male's mouth twitched upward as he scanned the page before him again.
You Beckett girls are a handful.
Will's heart almost flew in his chest as he locked the door to the captain's cabin behind him.
He couldn't believe it. He had done it.
He had done it.
He looked down into his hands. In one of them, he held an old and rusted-over iron key. He held a pelt of dark brown and cream-coloured fur in his other hand, dappled with darker brown spots on the back.
With a shuddering breath, he tucked the pelt between his legs and tied the key on a black chord he kept tied around his neck, all the while doing his best to keep his breathing quiet. He was so anxious that every breath he took felt loud and rattling in his ears.
As soon as the key was secured around his neck, he bundled up the fur pelt, which was as small as he could make it, and stuffed it under his shirt. As the fibres touched his skin, he felt a shiver run down his spine.
He could almost feel the magic pouring out of the garment…so raw…so powerful…and yet it smelled and felt…like her…
Will had heard from Gibbs and Jack that a selkie's pelt was a piece of their soul, made solid, but he had never really believed it till now. He just thought it was like the cursed treasure of Cortez, an enchanted item.
But now…now holding the pelt to his skin…it almost felt like she was in his arms.
I need to get this back to her. With this, she could swim away from Jones the minute I kill him…but Jones has ordered her to hurt me if I try to make off with the key…
Quietly, Will crept across the deck, only pausing to glance at his father, who had been acting like a lookout. The man was preparing one of the smaller rowboats on the ship's side.
For the first time since Will had arrived, the deck of the Flying Dutchman was quiet and almost deserted. Since the storms had passed and the wind was near dead, not even Davy Jones could find an excuse to keep his crew working to the bone. Now, she only needed one man at the helm while six other crew members sat on deck ready to leap to action should their circumstances change. However, since there was barely any wind, the six men had taken advantage of the peace and were fast asleep in the shadows beneath the upper deck.
As it wasn't uncommon to hear a man walk above or below deck, the thudding of Will's footsteps went unheeded by any of them as he stowed below deck.
He had very little time and had to ensure he did this right.
As soon as Davy Jones woke from his nap in his quarters, Will's hours would be numbered. The Devil would notice the key to the Dead Man's Chest was gone, and hopefully, that would keep him too distracted to notice the other priceless treasure missing from his cabin.
Will had taken the silver trident key and used it to unlock the chest it opened before returning it to its rightful place. He had ensured that the tapestry that had hidden the silver chest looked the same as when he found it. Now, all he had to hope for was that Peggy could keep the secret safe all alone. Yes his father would be there but...but Will was not sure he'd be able to do much to protect Peggy from Jones's wrath.
Will crept into the kitchen, taking a few cautious steps over to old Silver, leaning back and snoring loudly in his chair like usual. His mouth was open, and he was drooling, so Will was confident that the old sage was dead asleep.
Good. Though Silver had said he would not rat him out, Will had learned long ago not to trust the words of any pirate blindly.
And so, with bated breath, Will pulled aside the raggedy curtain that hid the bed from view.
Peggy was still fast asleep, her curls a mess around the pillow and her chest rising and falling as she breathed deeply.
Will felt something inside his chest pull and tug almost painfully. However, it was not the familiar sad sting he associated with the broken bond. No, this was a pang of longing.
How easy would it be to slip under the covers beside her once more and hold her till the dawn came…
Will shook his head as he pulled the selkie pelt from his shirt. Carefully not to disturb her, he pulled off her blanket with one hand while the other carefully draped the pelt over Peggy's body.
The effect was instantaneous. Will leapt back as Peggy sucked in a sharp breath, her chest heaving for a moment as if she were breathing clearly for the first time. He could feel something in his chest warm and strengthened, and he knew, he just knew, something had gone right.
He could see the colour returning to her skin before his eyes, her cheeks returning to the rosy hue he remembered from six months ago, before that fateful day Jack had arrived in Port Royal. Her face slackened, and her brow smoothed as if an enormous weight had been lifted from her entire body. She even looked younger, more like the young woman she was supposed to be.
Sure, there was still some lingering pain. Will could feel the ache of the broken bond still there, barely tethering her heart to his as it hung on its flimsy threads. However, with the return of her selkie pelt, even those strings seemed to tense and strengthen on their own.
He may not have bought her much time, but it was better than nothing.
When it was clear she wasn't going to wake up from her slumber any time soon, he let himself approach her once more, swiftly pulling her other blanket over the top of her and her pelt, making sure to hide the latter as much as he could before tucking a folded sheet of yellow parchment beneath her pillow. He had stolen it earlier from a journal kept down in the hold below, among all the other bits and bobs that had been scavenged off shipwrecks the Dutchman had encountered.
He just hoped his message would be enough to stop her fretting.
"I'll be back soon." He whispered, stroking his thumb across a freckled cheek, "I'll come back for you when I've dealt with Jones. Please hold on for me for a little longer." He pressed his lips against her forehead and sucked in a deep breath as he murmured.
"I love you…and I'm going to make things right…I promise."
She was sitting on a beach in a plain white shirt and brown breeches. The soft, white sands contrasted with the fiery copper red of her hair, which blew wildly in the winds.
She smiled and chuckled as she looked at the breaking waves lapping on the shore. There, ankle-deep in the water, two children were playing. Both had brown hair, and their faces were unclear, but they were smiling, shouting, and laughing as they splashed and tousled in the water. Both were in shirts and breeches like she was, though the shorter child was a girl and the taller one was a boy.
"Woah-woah-woah Darling! Steady on there!" she shouted as the girl grunted and pushed the boy bodily into the water, where he landed with a groan and a squeak. "Go easy on your brother!"
"Owww! What was that for?"
"Oh, stop whining. I didn't hit you that hard, har-ah! Hey! " The girl rolled her eyes, then squeaked as her brother tackled her into the waves. "MUUUM!"
"Typical." She rolled her eyes, stood to her feet, and rushed towards the children, her bare feet leaving a clear impression in the sand. "Alright, now, you two alright. Break it up. When I said you could play for a bit, I did not mean to start a fight. Keep that for your sparring lessons."
"Aww, mum!"
"Don't aww mum me. Your father will be back any time, and what am I going to tell him when he sees the two of you all battered and bruised as if you were in a Tortugan bar fight?"
She smiled as her two children pouted at her mutinously; however, her son's attention was quickly distracted as something splashed behind them.
He turned around and pointed.
"Mum, look."
She looked up and saw a magnificent seal raised on the beach. It was as long as she was tall, with dark chocolaty brown fur and a creamy underbelly. Along its back were a dappling of slightly darker brown spots. Its big eyes were dark grey-blue, and it stared at her with an intelligence that was near human, even as she reached out a hand to touch it.
"I know you…" She whispered as the creature trilled eagerly, ducking its head so she could touch the top of it.
Soft fibres, warm despite the wet sea, grazed her fingers as she stroked them gently, her fingers tingling.
Tears streamed down her eyes as the two brown-haired children melted away like smoke in the wind, leaving her alone on the beach with the large seal.
"You're really here…aren't you? But…how-"
"Wake up."
She blinked as she looked at the seal,, which opened its mouth to bark. However, instead of the usual 'Aawuff!' of a bark, words came out.
Words in her voice.
"Wake up! You must wake up now! NOW!"
Peggy Blake gasped, and her eyes flew open.
She lay alone on the thin bed in the Flying Dutchman's kitchen. The curtain had been pulled aside, bathing her in enough light to hit her eyes and make her cringe instantly.
Above her, a man hissed as he shook her by the shoulder. He tried very hard to be gentle,, but his fear was evident in how badly his pale hand shook, and his voice wavered as she rubbed her eyes.
"Bootstrap? What's…what's going on? Where's Will?" Peggy frowned as the hunched, coral-covered figure of the older Turner man came into sharper focus.
"Will's gone. He's left. You need to get up now."
"Gone? Gone where…" Peggy trailed off as she sat up and felt her covers shift, only they felt heavier than before. Now that she thought about it, there seemed to be two blankets over her.
She looked down and gasped.
SMASH!
CRASH!
There was the smashing of glass and the thudding of many heavy objects, which hit and collided with a solid surface.
All the crewmen of the Flying Dutchmen trembled with terror as the roar of fury echoed over the deck.
It had been a long time since they saw their captain this angry. The Devil was usually so composed and in control. Although he sometimes had bouts of melancholy, he always found a way to express it through his music whenever one of his funny turns took him over.
Now, however…now he was enraged.
And everyone knew exactly why.
The Turner boy.
Against all odds, the whelp had pulled a fast one over the Devil himself.
This was no play of the dice like before. He had dared to waltz into the Captain's Cabin and steal the keys from the Devil's neck.
They all would have admired him for his pluck…if their captain were not so terrifying to behold in his wrath.
They just hoped none of them would be next on the chopping block because whenever Davy Jones caught William Turner, and he would, there truly would be hell to pay.
Tia Dalma smiled as she looked into the bowl of seawater.
Finally.
Finally, things were starting to go in the direction she had planned.
The boy had the key.
The girl had her pelt.
Now, all that was left was to nudge Jack Sparrow in the right direction. The pirate seemed surprisingly distracted despite his mission. Not even Tia Dalma had seen his heart so torn between his desires.
It was no wonder his compass was not working.
Tia Dalma's gaze hardened with derisive glee as she remembered the day she had acquired the compass.
Despite being bound in mortal form, she still had a great deal of power and influence over the creatures of the water.
Even the crocodiles of the swamps nearby obeyed her command. How well they had obeyed her that day that boy and that pirate king had fought.
That Pirate King. Tia Dalma's hands tightened around the edge of her bowl. That monster…that blackguard, that had bound her to this form…how she had been so disappointed in him escaping the wrath of the crocodiles.
However, there was only so much she could do when bound like this.
And so she had settled for that other traitorous creature delivering her that compass.
That young man, foolish, greedy, flighty. He had been so eager in his search for immortal youth that he had been willing to lead the woman he loved to death and kill her father.
Such a wretched, filthy excuse for a human. But she had made a deal with him to give her the compass in exchange for being young for the rest of his life.
The idiot had never specified how long the rest of his life had to be after delivering his cargo. Oh, how he had screamed so deliciously as the crocodile had devoured his young flesh…
Tia Dalma smiled as the image in the water shifted as she carefully swirled the wooden bowl.
How fitting would it be that the very compass that had led her greatest enemy to bind her to this horrible existence was now going to be the very thing that freed her from this disgusting existence?
Now if only Jack Sparrow could get his head screwed on straight…or if he had another head to help him.
Tia Dalma bit her lip as the image finally refocused on another face.
A young woman in rough, ill-fitting men's clothes was trying to push her way through a crowd of rowdy, drunk pirates. Her long blonde hair was tied up and tucked into a black hat, and her face was harried as she looked behind her to call out to someone.
What 'ave we here?
Tia Dalma's eyebrows rose as the blonde woman reached out to grab the hand of a much smaller, delicate-looking figure and pull them out of the squash of the crowd.
It was a child—a girl with a pale doll-like face, dark brown hair, and light blue-grey eyes… blue-grey eyes familiar to Tia Dalma, even though she had only seen them a few days ago in a different face.
"Hmm…" Tia Dalma murmured, "It seems de wind and de tides bring me another gift."
Her lips widened into a wicked grin.
"Dis shall be interesting."
Notes:
MUAHAHAHAHA! And there we are.
Chapter 26 is over. Will finally gets the key, Peggy has her pelt, and Jack and the others are in Tortuga.
This is where the Flying Dutchman arc will end (we'll get some peek-ins here and there), and the focus will shift to the Black Pearl for a little bit. It was hard to find a natural stopping point for the FD arc, but I feel this is a nice comfy spot with us getting to know what happened somewhere else while Will rows out to sea (kinda like Gendry in Game of Thrones rowing for a few seasons before he gets back LAMO).So Will has finally figured out he's in love with Peggy (now tell her you love her when she's awake you dummy!). but in all seriousness, probably for the best he doesn't get with her at this moment when he's still engaged. Wouldn't be fair on Pegs. I've tortured her enough as an author.
Yes I did weave Captain J. Hook and Peter Pan into the POTC universe. And yes, I did make Hook the first Pirate King. Honestly it felt right and I'm enjoying putting little snippets of other disney/literature franchises into the POTC universe. I feel like there is some place for them. Also Haken is the German word for Hook. Pannell is a surname that means "tiler" (as in one who lays/makes rooftiles) so that felt like a natural extension of the Pan name. Then we have Belle Tinkerman (aka Tinkerbell, who did drank poison and nearly died for Peter). Hooks daughter being stolen away by Pannell is basically a reference to Wendy Darling, and how her father George Darling is often played by the same actor as Captain Hook in the play. And of course had to include the crocodile (I know i probably didn't get their habitat right but there are some crocodiles native to Cuba). Yes, I did change the infamous clock to Jack's compass but i felt like both are round, both have hands, it's the sort of detail that could get messed about when passed along through word of mouth.
Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. I enjoyed making it. It was nice to get the ball rolling with Jack and Sloane again, and it will be nice to see Elizabeth and this new player in the story ;)
if you enjoyed, please keep reading, reviewing, faving and following for more
Thanks
FuzzyBeta
Chapter 27: A Lady's Choice
Summary:
"A marriage interrupted, or Fate intervenes."
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The director's office at the East India Trading Company Headquarters was quiet as Lord Cutler Beckett strode towards it from the beach, a letter in one pale hand and the other holding a lantern aloft to guide his way.
It had been an exhausting three days.
After all his hard work to secure her back in his keeping, his eldest daughter had been whisked away from him by one of his men and that damned blacksmith.
William Turner. He was proving to be an unexpectedly nasty little thorn in his side. From what his men had reported to him, Beckett had assumed the lad was naive and foolish, chasing his selfish desires for adventure and romance. He had assumed Turner's youth and recklessness would make the younger man easily pliable to his threats. That had been a massive mistake.
I should have known that an associate of Jack Sparrow would be just as slippery as the fiend himself. Beckett mused as he looked down at the letter in his hand. It was the one from Ronan Sloane that had been left three nights ago, on the morning he took Margaret.
While Beckett knew it was a wise decision to let his clerk use his daughter to worm his way into Turner and Sparrow's confidence, something else prickled at the back of his mind. Something had been left out. Something was wrong.
It all seemed too convenient, too neatly tied up.
Sloane was a double agent, and Beckett, having employed too many spies in his time, could not trust such men so blindly. But it did not matter. Beckett knew that if push came to shove, he could quickly bring his clerk back to heel.
Cutler Beckett always had a talent for pushing and pulling the right levers in others' hearts…well, at least those unrelated to his own.
He grimaced as his mind dwelt back on the faces of both his daughters. Margaret had always been wild like her mother; he should not have been so surprised at her rebelliousness in the face of his discipline.
He had not expected young Katrina to follow in her footsteps.
He did not know what had happened to his sweet, little, doll-like daughter. Barely two days after meeting his eldest daughter, Katrina was already showing signs of rebellion. It had all started going downhill during that somewhat rocky meeting with her intended and his family.
Katrina had behaved herself at dinner, but her displeasure at observing her intended had been noticeable. She had made a point of avoiding spending any time with him, choosing instead to fuss over that tetchy feline, Orion, or talk with Arlington's younger sister and his mother, keeping her back turned on her betrothed to avoid speaking with him.
Granted, his daughter's sixteen-year-old fiancé, Cuthbert Arlington, was not the worthwhile investment his family had promised him to be. The boy was spoiled, uninterested and lazy, and from the way he already flirted with the maids, he promised to be a remarkably absent and unfaithful husband.
On paper, it seemed an unhappy and unsuitable match. However, the boy was the second son of a noble bloodline that dated back at least six generations. Though he would not bear the title like his elder brother, his father was willing to entrust him with a great deal of money and the ownership of many galleons and warships upon his death if Beckett would offer the boy a decent position within the company. One where all he had to do was sit on his pasty arse while the money poured in from well-chosen investments.
Would it be a happy match? Probably not. However, boys like Arlington could be easily managed if one knew how to handle them. Beckett would manage it to start, but hopefully, as his youngest daughter grew older, she'd learn to manage the fool for herself, a task that would become easier if she bore him a healthy son. From what Beckett understood of the doctors and nursemaid's checkups on his youngest, she had much promise in birthing future heirs.
If only she would give up the silly notion of marrying for love like her older sister.
For all their years apart, both his daughters had held similar, yet foolish, notions of love and romance.
He wondered where they got it from. He was not a romantic soul by nature, and he had instructed the governess of his youngest to do her best to keep such fanciful subject matter to a minimum in her lessons.
And yet, it had not worked.
Beckett scowled as he remembered how his youngest had begged him not to sell her off to Lord Arlington and his son. Her feet stomped childishly as she cried that maybe her sister was right to leave if this was the future she was offered.
All this hysteria was so unnecessary. He understood this might be a massive transition for her and did not begrudge the fear she must have felt. After all, she was such a delicate flower, and the prospect of marrying and leaving the safety of his protection would scare her. But surely, as his daughter, she was smart enough to realise this was for her good? Hadn't her governess explained to her time and time again that it was her duty to marry well so her future and the future of their family's legacy would be secure?
But no. One meeting with her older, fearless, and fearsome pirate sister and all that hard work to mould his youngest into the perfect wife and noblewoman was already starting to crumble.
Of course, it would. He rolled his eyes to himself, half torn between anger and fondness. Margaret was her mother's daughter, after all, and the protégé of Jack Sparrow himself.
A dangerous combination if ever he saw one.
And speaking of dangerous combinations…
Beckett smirked as he strode back into his dark office, his sharp eyes catching a tiny flicker of silk peeking out to him under the light of a stray moonbeam.
With a calm sigh, he approached the small wooden chest on his desk and snorted as he saw the unlocked latch. A quick peek inside revealed that the letters of Marque he had kept tucked within were now missing.
Just when he thought his night could not be more disturbed. Still, it was an interesting development…
"No doubt you've discovered that loyalty is no longer the currency of the realm as your father believes." He clipped into the silent night.
There was the familiar rustle of material, a silk skirt, if he had to guess. Of course, if this was who he thought it was, she probably had neither the time nor the resources to disguise herself better.
"Then what is?" a woman's quiet, refined voice answered him tersely.
Beckett turned around. And there she stood in the dark. Elizabeth Swann. Regal and elegant, yet he could smell her desperation from here. Or was that because she had been denied fresh clothes and a bath since being imprisoned on her wedding day in her wedding dress?
Still, she held herself with dignity befitting a lady of her status.
Had she not been so foolish to engage in piracy, Elizabeth Swann might have been a decent marriage prospect for Beckett himself. A proper noblewoman, with her long family lineage, father's influence, wealth, and good breeding. She would have been a far better role model for his youngest daughter, and her youth would have ensured him another decent opportunity for a proper heir.
But, alas, Elizabeth Swann was no longer a viable option for courtship—what a terrible waste of all that beauty and brains.
"I'm afraid currency is the currency of the realm." Beckett forced a polite, cold smile to his face, which he usually used when conducting business with new potential clients.
"I expect, then, we can come to some sort of understanding," Elizabeth muttered as she stalked towards him, hands behind her back. "I'm here to negotiate."
"I'm listening." Beckett took a step forward only to stop dead in his tracks as the barrel of a pistol was pointed between his eyes. He sucked in a deep breath as he noticed it was already prepped to fire. "I'm listening intently."
There was a pause as Elizabeth slowly raised her other hand, tightly holding a parcel of brown leather in her pale fingers.
"These letters of Marque, they are signed by the King, yes?" she asked softly, and Beckett smirked.
"Yes, and they're not valid until they bear my signature and my seal."
"Or else you would not still be here." Elizabeth lowered the gun, the only sign of her disappointment evident in the uncertain flicker in her brown eyes. "You sent Will to get you the compass owned by Jack Sparrow. It will do you no good."
"Do explain." Beckett quirked a brow, intrigued. Foolish girl. Did she think this was the first time someone had 'negotiated' with him at the point of a weapon? Guns, swords. He may not have been much of a fighter, but Beckett had been through a great deal across the years. His silver tongue and pen were his favoured weapons, and he had learned to wield them as well as any duellist.
"I have been to the Isla de Muerta. I have seen the treasure myself." Elizabeth stepped forward so that the point of the gun was now directed squarely at his heart. "There is something you need to know."
"Ahh, I see." Becket snorted smugly, "You think the compass leads only to the Isla de Muerta, and you hope to save me from an evil fate. But you need not worry." He turned his back on her to look at the unfinished map of the world that spanned across the entire wall opposite his desk. It was indeed a work of art, and soon it would not be long till all areas were filled in, his hand at the helm of its finishing.
"I care not for cursed Aztec gold." Beckett sniffed, folding his arms, ears pricked for any sign of the gun or Elizabeth moving behind his back "My desires are not so provincial. Besides, there's more than one chest of value in these waters." He finished turning back to smirk at the noblewoman behind him and stalked back into point-blank range of her weapon, which now rose to click under his chin. "So perhaps you may wish to enhance your offer."
He began to walk towards his desk, delighting in the way Elizabeth's confidence fell as he held her stare with his own calm and cold one. He was utterly relaxed. She had a gun on him, and he had barely lifted a finger to plead for his life or call for his guards.
The sight of his composure was almost enough to rob Elizabeth of hers.
"Consider it in your calculations that you robbed me of my wedding night." She snarled as she thrust the Letters of Marque into his hands, her gun steady despite her rage.
"So I did." He smirked as he took the paperwork and began to sign it under the light of his lantern on the table. "A marriage interrupted…" He paused as he reached for a stick of red wax, his eyes landing on a leather-bound journal lying closed on the desk nearby. "Or fate intervenes."
There was silence as he carefully melted the wax onto the Letters and pressed his seal into it, Elizabeth's eyes watching every movement of his like a hawk.
"I must say, you're making a great effort to ensure Mister Sparrow's freedom."
"These aren't going to Jack." Elizabeth tried to snatch the papers from the desk, but Beckett slammed a hand on them so hard she almost flinched. Worse still was the icy severity in those grey-blue eyes.
Elizabeth almost shivered at the sight of them as she was reminded of a similar pair of eyes set in the face of a freckled and copper-haired young woman.
"Oh really? To ensure Mister Turner's freedom then, I'll still want that compass. Consider that in your calculations." Beckett quirked a brow and slid the Letters of Marque back towards him as he sat down at his desk. "Now if you would please be patient. I have a private message I would like you to pass on to your dear fiancé when you find him. It won't take a moment."
Elizabeth stood, staring at him as he calmly opened the journal on the desk before him. Her eyes widened as she recognised Will's technical drawings from his time at the forge…amongst other sketches she had never seen before.
He had shown her his journal once when they began courting, his cheeks pink with embarrassment and shyness at his skill with a pencil and ink. Though Elizabeth had begged him many times to draw a portrait of her, he had refused, saying he would never get it right and that he wasn't skilled at portraits, even after she and her father had offered to hire a tutor to help him improve.
Elizabeth had never known why he was so reticent to share his passion or skill. He was more than happy to discuss blacksmithing, but to the upper class, such a skill was considered lowbrow. But drawing and painting… It seemed silly to hide his talent when it could gain him such favour.
Her heart jolted as she noticed here and there, every few pages, the familiar face of a young woman. A young woman with freckles and a mass of curly hair. Most of these were scribbles, half-finished or still in the planning stages, but the care and attention to the details revealed a hand well-practised in portrait drawing.
Some dates she could see scrawled here and there were from last year. Well, that made sense, Elizabeth mused. Will had told her that this journal was a gift from last year's birthday.
How long will he take? Elizabeth's jaw clenched as Beckett flicked through page after page with infuriating slowness.
There were other drawings, too, of beaches, buildings, ships, and weapons and occasionally animals like a dog or a chicken or Ethel, the sweet donkey who lived in Mister Brown's forge or studies of hands or eyes, as well as a few scrawls of text to jot down Will's thoughts.
But every few pages, Elizabeth's eyes would always spot the familiar face staring out at her.
Always the same young woman – no one else, not Elizabeth, not a nobleman or woman, not even one of the villagers or the officers. Just that same young woman, over and over again.
Those curls, those freckles, those eyes.
Sometimes, Will had drawn the curls tied back in a braid, but it was messy, with curls escaping their bindings here and there. There was even a rough sketch of the woman's complete form, sitting in a chair in a dowdy dress, with a needle and thread in hand, sewing something; the smile on her roughly sketched face was warm and happy. Now that Elizabeth thought about it, all the drawings of the woman depicted her with a warm, smiling face. A sketching study was even conducted on the woman's ear and neck. Elizabeth only realised it was the same woman because of the freckles. Will had been so meticulous in pencilling in a couple of notes scrawled in a corner, detailing his frustrations with the shape of the earlobe, such as:
"Stop moving"
Elizabeth felt her breath catch in her chest as she caught sight of another drawing of the woman's face beside the scrawl of marriage vows that filled up page after page.
Poor Will must have gotten stuck. He did say he was struggling a bit with the words.
Elizabeth mused, yet the warm fondness in her chest vanished to be replaced by the coldest ice cube from hell slithering down her back as Beckett chose to look up and 'check' their surroundings, his finger lingering on the page so that Elizabeth could take in its contents.
It had only one sentence on it, the letters crossed out clumsily. Elizabeth could still read it as clearly as if they had been blown up to the size of a shopfront sign.
"I, William Turner, with all my heart, take thee Peggy Blake"
It's just a mistake. Elizabeth sucked in a sharp breath. He's crossed it out, so clearly he didn't mean to write it. It's just an honest mistake. We've all written the wrong words when we're nervous or tired; William's no different.
Her fingers twitched on the gun in her hand, and she hoped to God Beckett could not see her lip trembling.
Unfortunately for her, the East India Trading Company Director noticed everything. Even in the dim light of his lantern, his eyes were keen and sharp as he gauged her reaction to his silent, torturous fingers turning over the page and blocking the offending sentence from view.
Who needed twelve lashes of the whip to hurt someone when all you needed were twelve words?
"Hurry up!" Elizabeth snapped, her grip around the gun tightening. Despite her renewed aggravation, Beckett smirked, his chest swelling slightly with pride as he glanced at another drawing of the curly-haired woman in the journal.
And the bait is on the hook.
Beckett smirked slowly as he flipped through the pages, finally turning to the last entry in the journal, which he had already marked by folding the bottom corner. The tension in Elizabeth's face was palpable; her nostrils flared, and her brown eyes flashed with shock and anger as they drifted to the portrait that dominated the page. It was just the young woman's shoulders and head, her face smiling gently, and her eyes soft and tender. Elizabeth bit her lip as she noted the date of the day before her wedding scribbled in a corner just underneath another scrawl in Will's hand, obscured by the lacy cuff of Beckett's silk shirt.
"Yes, it is quite a lovely piece, isn't it?" He mused fondly, a pale finger tracing the shape of his daughter's gently smiling face on the paper. "I must say, for a man of such humble origins, Mister Turner does have quite the talent. I have commissioned many artists to immortalise my beloved Niamh and my dear Margaret, but none ever came close to capturing their beauty. I suppose young Mister Turner had the advantage no other artist ever had. Living with Margaret for so long must have made him familiar with all her features. Had he not been convicted of piracy, I might have pushed for the two of them to be wed as soon as I arrived in Port Royal, if only to dispel all the 'unsavoury' rumours circulating about their unconventional living situation. A Lord's daughter living in sin with a lowly apprentice for ten years would ruin her prospects, but with the right guidance, a young man like Mister Turner might have made a passable son-in-law."
"That's not-" Elizabeth snapped, coughing as she did her best to compose herself "Will and Peggy were just dear friends. Will told me so himself!" Her hand tightened on her gun as Beckett smirked at her. "He only saw her as a sister and nothing more. That's all she is to him. Nothing untoward ever happened while they shared a roof, of that I am certain!"
"And yet, here you are. Saving yourself while Mister Turner took off with my eldest daughter three days ago." Beckett murmured, turning over to smooth out a fresh page.
"What?" Elizabeth froze, her face paling.
"Oh, didn't your father tell you?" Beckett muttered, pausing to dip his quill into his inkwell. "Three days ago, your precious fiancé stole away with dear Margaret at dawn to find Jack Sparrow. Left without so much as a word. Of course, I have sent my best man, Ronan Sloane, after them." Beckett's lip curled with derisive pleasure as he saw her shift in the corner of his eye. "As the director of the East India Trading Company, I can't have my eldest running off with some convicted criminal, no matter how close they are to one another."
He signed off the short message with his signature and carefully reached for his penknife to slice his message and the picture from the journal with clean, straight cuts.
"Strange, isn't it?" He muttered as he folded the message, sealed it with wax, and tucked it and the drawing safely into the leather bindings of the Letters of Marque, "Turner had all that time to collude with Margaret to sneak out like a thief in the night and yet so little time to make plans with your dear father to aid in your escape. Then again. I suppose it would have been quite the trek to your father's estate from the cells of Fort Charles."
He fell silent as Elizabeth snatched the bound paperwork from his hands, her chest heaving to control her already frayed temper.
"Talk all you want." She sneered; the expression, paired with her loose, bedraggled dark blonde hair, gave her the look of a seething lioness. "I am sure Will had a perfectly reasonable explanation for leaving me behind and going ahead with Peggy. She is, after all, Jack Sparrow's associate. She of all people would know how to find Jack."
"Oh, I'm sure she does. And while you're at it, would you tell my daughter that she is to return to me at the first opportunity? While I am sure Mister Turner will do his best to take care of her, there are important matters she must take responsibility for at home." Beckett stood slowly to his feet, a smirk widening as Elizabeth backed away from him, gun raised once more to cover her escape.
He silently watched her leave via the balcony, her footsteps fading as they transitioned from the wooden boards to the sandy shore.
Silly woman. He shook his head as he quietly stalked out to the balcony, watching the moonlight illuminate her silhouette as it rushed across the pale sands, trying to hide in the shadows of the treeline.
All this trouble for a man whose interest shifts like the tide.
He chuckled softly as he recalled the look of wrath that had flashed across Elizabeth Swann's face only moments ago. Perhaps it seemed counterintuitive to his cause to press the noblewoman's buttons so much; however, if there was one thing Cutler Beckett had learned while pushing pieces across the chessboard of business, it was that no one was more productive or resourceful than a scorned woman.
If anyone could locate Will Turner, it would be Elizabeth Swann. And once she had completed her task, it would be only too easy to dispose of her, put her pretty head on a spike, and elevate both his daughters to their rightful place above her for all to see.
During the last few days at Port Royal, Beckett had gleaned very troubling information about his eldest daughter's tenure working at the Governor's estate.
Aside from the usual scorn a laundry maid faced at the hands of her superiors, Margaret had been wrongfully accused of stealing money from the Governor's purse when the true culprit was the fool's daughter.
Dotard. Beckett's lip curled. This is what happens when you indulge too much and discipline too little.
A reckless and thoughtless attempt at adolescent rebellion, hastily covered up and blamed on Margaret, an easy target given her then "orphan" status, who had then received an extraordinarily harsh beating at the hands of a very power-hungry housekeeper. Then, to add insult to injury, not only was the incident swept under the rug, but the Governor had also dispensed a very dismal compensation for young Margaret's recovery and given her a hastily written letter of recommendation to the Fort Charles washhouse, keeping her far away from his estate as if she were the culprit.
Governor Swann had apologised and tried to smooth things over when confronted about the issue earlier today, even offering further monetary compensation to make amends. Fool, as if money would be enough to make up for such dismal failings. Beckett had done his best to keep a calm and cool façade, though he had to wonder if he had not done as good a job as he had thought. After all, his eldest daughter had been wrongfully hurt under the nobleman's roof, so why wouldn't he be angry?
By that same notion, it was only natural that Governor Swann had decided to act so foolishly tonight. He must have known that his precious daughter's days would be numbered once the story had reached Beckett's ears. Or maybe Governor Swann had heard about what he had done to that disgusting pig John Brown?
Yes, he must have heard already. Beckett had ensured everyone in Port Royal knew the blacksmith's fate. It was only too easy for one of his men to ply the drunk with so much rum he could hardly see straight before pushing his head into the waters of a secluded beach and leaving it there as the tide splashed over his corpse, much like waves would splash over a beached whale.
Over the years, Beckett had built himself a reputation for never letting a slight go unpunished. Whatever his eldest daughter had become, Beckett could not let such an insult to his family slide.
It was only too bad that Beckett needed the bumbling nobleman; otherwise, he'd have been hanged, drawn, and quartered already.
Beckett's smirk curled into a slight sneer as he leaned against the balcony railing and gazed at the waves.
Clandestine dealings aside, it was a beautiful evening. The moon was a silver sliver, yet it still shone brightly over the ocean, bathing it in a silver light that made it look almost like glass. The breeze was the perfect offset for what would have been a warm Caribbean evening.
Perfect swimming weather, Niamh would have said. Beckett wondered if his daughter shared her mother's fondness for such odd little fancies. And yet, from what he had seen of the account books that his daughter had kept for Mister Brown's smithy, she had inherited his gift with arithmetic and business and had done well to keep her found family afloat with so little.
If only Margaret had been born a boy, then Beckett could have pretended to adopt her as his ward, sent her to the finest educational institutions and groomed her for succession rather than relying on managing stupid and vapid noblemen and their equally dumb sons.
Of course, that did not mean Beckett did not love his younger daughter, too. Her birth was a blessing he had been most fortunate to receive. Even if he had no heir to carry his family name, at least his youngest could carry on his bloodline.
He sighed heavily as the evening peace was disturbed by the hurried thudding of footsteps rushing toward his office. No doubt it was the officers, those stupid oafs, finally catching up on the trail of Elizabeth Swann.
Then came the shout of a sobbing woman, accompanied by the shouts of men.
"We've just searched the drawing room and the parlour, but we didn't spot her anywhere."
"Madam, please, perhaps you should sit down!"
"No! No, I will not sit down! Not until we find her! Search the house again"
"But Madam-"
"I don't care! Search all the rooms again! She can't have left the grounds! That poor child is all alone and completely innocent. We must find her or else she'll be in great danger."
Lord Beckett's eyes widened. That was Miss Burgess, his daughter's governess. He had never heard her so distressed, and she was usually such a prim and proper woman, hardly prone to hysterics.
Then came the words that made his blood run cold.
"Miss Beckett! Miss Beckett! Miss Katrina, where are you?"
"Shh! Stop squirming, Orion." Katrina Beckett hissed as she ducked behind the crates for cover. A fluffy white cat glowered mutinously in her arms as it desperately tried to leave her hiding place.
Morning had arrived bright and early to Port Royal, but the youngest Beckett daughter had hardly slept a wink all night as she had stolen aboard the Speedwell, a rather drab, slightly outmoded but sturdy merchant's ship.
Katrina could not believe how easily she had managed such a feat.
It had not taken much to sneak out the window of her room and into the dense foliage of the nearby tropical forest. Her father's guards had not bothered to patrol around her quarters, for she had never caused trouble in the past. Katrina Beckett was just sweet, a useless, pretty doll in all but name.
The clothes were slightly more challenging to acquire, but Katrina had managed to sneak down to the EITC Headquarters washhouse and steal a shirt, vest, hat, boots and breeches belonging to one of the young apprentices who worked for her father's clerks. They were all a size too big on her, which was lucky because Orion could hide, tucked in her shirt like a fuzzy pillow-turned-fake belly. Fortunately, Katrina had not yet developed a woman's curves; as long as she kept her hair hidden beneath her hat, everyone thought she was a very young boy who had yet to shed her baby fat.
She wondered if this was how it had been for her sister.
Oh how Katrina wished her older sister had stayed longer. One conversation was hardly enough to answer any of Katrina's burning questions.
Questions like "why was it so easy to steal aboard a ship in the dead of night?".
Katrina frowned as she recalled how easily she had snuck aboard the ship. She had hardly had to do much sneaking, for the men had been so busy loading their cargo. She had just walked up to them in her boy's clothes and asked the Quartermaster to take her on, and the man agreed, grumbling something about them needing a new cabin boy. He was a rather gruff, heavyset man who smelled of hay, sweat and something alcoholic but foul, but thankfully, whatever drink he had indulged in had dulled his senses enough not to notice anything odd about her and he had merely handed her a goat to carry down to the hold with a gruff grunt. And there she had stayed, with Orion hidden behind some crates already accounted for and tied down.
And now here she was, an hour out of Port Royal's harbour and sailing on the open ocean. She had to admit it was different from how she had sailed with her father. For one thing, the hold was far more cramped and less comfortable than her small cabin had been. There was no feather bed to sleep on, nor any books to find refuge in, as the ship tilted and swayed rather raggedly in the blustering winds. Instead of a stern Governess always keeping watch on her, her only companion was now Orion the cat, whose traitorous instinct for catching mice was overriding his usual loyalties.
Not for the first time that night did Katrina wonder guiltily about what would become of her governess. She was not a bad woman, but like her father, she did not seem to understand Katrina's plight, nor did she want to.
"You must marry well for the sake of your family, " she always said, and while Katrina understood the responsibility, she still could not help but feel angry. "That is the duty of all daughters to their fathers."
She would happily do her duty for her family, but did her father have to sell her to that pig?
Katrina shivered as she remembered that awful dinner with her intended and his family.
At first, she was as excited as any young girl would have been. She thought that since he was the child of a Lord like herself, there would be much they would connect about. She imagined him to be dashing, sincere, and well-mannered, like her father, if perhaps a little silly due to his youth and inexperience.
Oh, for sure, he was charming in his introduction, but as soon as it was over, Cuthbert Arlington was quick to shed his skin and reveal his true nature. Not only had he leered at all the maids who had brought the tea, but he had spoken to them rudely as well, talking down to them as if they were dumb ninnies.
While cold and aloof, Katrina's father was at least courteous to his staff, even those as lowly as a scullery maid.
"It always pays to be polite to the help", he used to tell her. "You never know when they might prove useful. Treat a person politely, and they will remember it. Treat someone rudely, and they'll never let you forget it."
Well, Katrina would certainly remember Cuthbert's rudeness till the day she died. Not only had he been rude to the servants, but also to his mother, Katrina, and sister. Granted, both ladies were somewhat spoiled, annoying and vapid, but still. They were his family. How could one be so nasty to one's own family?
Katrina remembered her friend Beatrice's older brother back in England. He had always been kind to his sister's friends and mother. He may have been a little cheeky with his wit, and maybe he and his sister squabbled sometimes, but he would never cause insult, and if he did offend by accident, he was always quick to apologise and make appropriate amends.
But Cuthbert was just rude. He did not care for the feelings of anyone he addressed who was not male and of their social class. His father was no better.
He was not rude in his words, but Katrina could feel his disdain as he looked her form up and down.
Katrina knew that her petite frame caused others to be concerned about her future ability to bear healthy sons. However, Lord Arlington's stare made her feel squeamish, as if a hungry carrion bird was picking her apart, bit by bit. She especially did not like how the older man suggested he be present at her next physical to ensure all was well below the skirts.
The mere thought of that old man being anywhere near her body, clothed or otherwise, made her skin crawl.
Katrina shivered as she remembered her older sister's words about the men at Tortuga and how she had taken a job on a ship to avoid being sold into houses of ill repute. Katrina did not know what happened at such establishments, but from what little she had gathered from her elders, they were no place for young ladies of high breeding.
If those men in those houses of ill repute were anything like Lord Arlington, then Katrina could understand why her sister would be so eager to become a pirate. At least then, no one would bat an eye at her using a gun or raising a sword in self-defence against a man. As a pirate, she was no one's property.
Not like Katrina.
She had thought her father would have stood up for her rights. Lord Beckett was a powerful man, perhaps one of the most powerful men in the British Empire outside the Aristocracy and the Royal family. Indeed, he could have arranged a better match with a compassionate, sweeter gentleman than Cuthbert Arlington.
Someone like Ronan Sloane. He was handsome and charming and had always treated her with kindness—and it was not fake kindness, either. He was always polite with her and listened attentively when she talked and complained about her lessons, occasionally adding a cheeky joke to help her feel better. Katrina always felt envious hearing his stories from his youth, the way he talked about his siblings and their misadventures and japes. Being a part of such a large and loud family sounded like fun.
She almost wished her sister would marry the man, if only so she could gain him as a brother.
And then there was her sister's 'friend,' William Turner.
From what little she had heard from her Mister Mercer's reports, she had expected a hulking, harsh, scraggly ruffian.
The lean, courteous man who had sat by her sister at that dinner did not seem so dangerous or uncouth. Perhaps a little hot-headed and rough around the edges, but the way he had looked at Margaret-no, Peggy. That's right. Her sister liked to be called Peggy – The way he looked at Peggy when she had grabbed his hand below the table to subdue his temper…it had been so warm and tender…
Nothing at all like the licentious leers of Cuthbert Arlington or his father.
I'm going to need a boy's name if I get discovered. Katrina shook her head and gulped down hard on the shivers of disgust as she recalled Lord Arlington's horrible gaze. Something easy… something similar enough to my name that I won't get confused… but what?
All her friends back in England had called her Kitty, but she wasn't sure if such a nickname would work for a boy. She could imagine getting teased and bullied to high heaven if she were a boy called Kitty.
Maybe Kit? That would work. Her old nursemaid had sometimes called her Kit for short, which could pass as a boy's name, couldn't it? What was it short for? No. She could think about that later; she still needed a last name.
She hardly had time to think as a man's gruff voice called out:
"Oy, lad! Get down 'ere and fetch the cook a fresh chook."
"Yes, sir!" a second voice replied. It was an odd voice, strained as if a young boy were trying to deepen his voice to sound much older.
Whoever they were, their arrival was enough of a distraction for Katrina to loosen her hold on Orion's scruff.
"No! Stop!" she hissed, but the cat had darted out of sight too late.
Cursing softly, though she knew little about swearing, Katrina clapped a hand over her mouth, grateful that the thundering footsteps ascending the stairs to the upper decks masked any sound she might have made.
Oh, god, I shall be discovered! They'll figure out who I am and send me back to Father. Or what if they don't figure out who I am and they toss me overboard? Or what if they sell me or-or use me? Oh dear, what have I done? Why did I leave Port Royal? I should have just hidden out on land.
She shut her eyes as she heard Orion mew at the newcomer who squeaked in surprise. Katrina frowned at the voice. Even for a young lad, it sounded very high-pitched and feminine. Then again, her governess did say that some boys' voices did not break until much later in life. But something was odd about the voice, something that became much more apparent when it sighed at feline.
"Just a cat. Here puss-puss."
Despite herself, Katrina cracked her eye open and gasped. That was a woman's voice, not a man's.
What was going on? Did the captain recruit women?
But no, that wasn't right. The man from before had called this woman a lad. Did that mean there was another woman like her who was trying to sneak aboard?
"Who's there?" the woman cried out in shock, only to cough quickly and repeat in a deeper but distinctly fake voice, "W-What's that! Who's that?"
Katrina bit her lip.
Should she show herself? If this were another woman, then perhaps she could be safe. But what was stopping the other woman from snitching on her to secure the captain's trust?
"I can see your shadow." The woman's fake male voice coughed. "So, you better come out. It'll be easier for us both if you do."
Katrina gulped.
Well, here goes nothing.
She sucked in a deep breath and slowly rose to her feet, only to bump her head hard on something above.
She yelped in shock, grabbing at the top of her head as the other woman groaned above her and pulled back sharply.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Katrina squeaked as she finally looked up to see the new arrival.
The ship's hold was dark, even during the daytime, lit by a few lanterns and the occasional crack in the floorboards above that allowed the light from the upper levels to pass through.
Before Katrina, the figure could have been a thin and reedy teenage boy, had it not been for the distinctly pouty and feminine face trying to hide beneath the hat.
She was a young woman in her early twenties. Pretty and too well-groomed and pale to belong to a commoner who toiled hard in the Caribbean sun, that was for sure. Her body also had a delicacy that not even the oversized men's clothes could hide, and her hands...
Katrina remembered her sister Peggy's hands. Though they had been well maintained, they were rough from years of housework and sailing.
This woman's hands were clean as a whistle and so well-manicured and soft like Katrina's, it was clear they had hardly had to lift anything bigger than a folding fan.
The woman's eyes widened as she beheld Katrina's equally shabby disguise. While the dark of night did much to conceal her identity, Katrina's doll-like features were clear in the light of day.
"Oh…" the other woman blinked in surprise and opened her mouth to say something, only to shut it quickly as a man's voice called from above:
"OY! WHAT'S GOOIN ON DOWN 'ERE!?"
"Quick, hide!" the woman hissed at Katrina, pushing her head down back below the crate as he coughed and called out in that fake boy's voice.
"Nothin', sir! Just tripped on my own feet."
There was a grumble from the stairwell, but to both Katrina and the woman's relief, the man above shuffled back to whatever he was doing.
"I think he's gone now." The woman hissed as Katrina chanced a small peek over her crate.
"T-thank you," the young girl coughed. "If he found me-"
"I know."
"I-I didn't…The Quartermaster let me sign on last night, but he was a bit drunk, so I don't think he noticed I wasn't a-well…" Katrina gestured to herself, and the woman nodded.
"No, he didn't notice I wasn't, man, either." The woman coughed. "Are you alright, Miss umm…"
"Kitty." Katrina mumbled, "But you can call me Kit for short. And you are?"
"Elizabeth. Lizzy for short." The woman, Elizabeth, nodded, eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion. "But everyone on this ship just knows me as Ellis. So if anyone asks, that is my name. Why are you hiding down here? If you got rostered on by the Quartermaster, then you have no reason to hide-"
"I…I thought he might notice I'm not a boy." Katrina admitted, "I mean, it was easy in the dark, but now-"
"I wouldn't worry about that," Elizabeth assured her gently. "I've been above deck all morning, and no one's noticed me so long as I keep my hair under my hat. Besides, most cabin boys spend their days scrubbing the floor so no one will notice you so long as you keep your head down."
"I…I guess." Katrina mumbled, only to blush as she felt her stomach grumble.
Elizabeth's face softened at the sight of the young girl's embarrassment.
"Come on, if you can help me fetch that chicken, I'll see if I can get the cook to give you some food."
"Thank you."
There was a comfortable silence as Elizabeth Swann and Katrina Beckett settled down to sleep in their hammocks on the crew's deck.
It had been nearly two weeks since the pair had met aboard the Speedwell.
Two weeks in which both the young woman and the young girl had joined forces to successfully stowaway aboard the ship. Now to the world, they were just Ellis and his little brother Kit, a pair of young lads, freshly orphaned, who needed money to start a new life.
It wasn't too hard a lie to spin. Many young boys came out to sea to seek their fortunes, so the crew had been sympathetic to their plight.
To both females' surprise, no one questioned their feminine appearance that much. Even when their deeper boy voices slipped back to their regular female ones, the men merely waved it off as their voices cracking in that embarrassing way that often happened during puberty.
Still, that did not stop the quartermaster from assigning them to work under the eye of Harris, the cook. Harris was a tough but fair master, though his speech was as rough as sandpaper. Katrina had never heard a man swear so much or so colourfully. It was almost an education to listen to.
Still, he had taught her a lot about cooking during those long hours they spent peeling vegetables or plucking chickens or geese. And between cooking, Katrina listened avidly to the many stories about the old pirates like Edward Teague, Anne Bonney, and even the awful monsters like Borgan the Butcher and Blackbeard. Then there were the stories of far-off ports in lands in the East, who wore elaborate robes made from rare silks, consorted with the Portuguese, ate their food with strange sticks, and sat on the floor instead of chairs.
However, before Katrina could ask more questions, Harris always quickly assigned her a new chore to keep her busy, or sent her up on deck to help swab and scrub with Elizabeth, who had been tasked with the more physically gruelling jobs because she was the 'older sibling'.
It was challenging work for a pair of young women who had hardly raised a finger to do more than fluff a cushion before they joined this crew, but they had both adapted quickly. They had no choice but to if they wanted to keep living.
Elizabeth, however, still felt cagey around the younger girl. She was unsure how to explain it, but there was something familiar about the thirteen-year-old she could not place—something about her eyes and the way she smiled and talked.
She could not put her finger on it, but it drove her up the wall.
She also had a distinct feeling that Kitty was not her real name, or at least was only a nickname. Elizabeth had not given her full name either, nor had they given one another their surnames.
However, from what little they had talked about their pasts, Elizabeth knew that her new 'little brother' was a noble-born girl. And not just any noble born, but one of the higher elite.
Most noble-born girls her age were usually only taught the basics of numeracy and literacy, their parents preferring to keep their education mainly focused on social etiquette and deportment and household management, with perhaps a foreign language or two and maybe some music, needlework and dancing thrown in for good measure. But Kit was very bright with numbers and could calculate quite easily in her head, and from the small conversations she and Elizabeth had when none of the other sailors were watching them, she was reading well beyond the level of most peers her age, not just in English, but in French, and she had a decent grasp of Latin and Greek which usually only boys were instructed in learning through their schooling.
Whoever Kit's father was, must have truly invested a lot into her formal education, Elizabeth mused. And from the sounds of it, he had the money to invest in excellent tutors.
That meant she must have been one of the children of one of Elizabeth's father's connections, who had come to the Caribbean to attend her wedding. Her father was not among the highest-born noblemen, but he had served the Crown faithfully for so long and cultivated many incredible connections through his younger years.
It stood to reason that some of his friends and acquaintances of the higher echelons of society would see his daughter's wedding as a ripe opportunity to network and conduct business affairs away from the prying eyes of the Crown, including arranging betrothals. Elizabeth had heard that Kitty's father was trying to sell her to Lord Arlington for his second son.
Elizabeth could not blame her younger companion for wanting to run away from such a match. Arlington might have been extremely wealthy and could play the part of a respectable aristocrat, but behind closed doors, he was a vile piece of work. His family were no better. His insipid wife had been one of Elizabeth's most vocal critics after her and Will's engagement had been announced.
His eldest son, Hubert, had been one of Elizabeth's many admirers. Elizabeth had done her best to avoid him due to his arrogance and terrible temper, which often got him into fights with his peers, some of them physical.
Elizabeth hardly knew the second son or the daughter, save what she had heard from her friends. The girl was young and just the run-of-the-mill airhead gossip, but according to the other nobles, the second son was shaping up to be an arrogant layabout.
Yet while all this information had been gleaned, Elizabeth had been very private about why she was on the run. She had told her young friend that she was searching for her fiancé, who was in trouble with the law, but had not revealed his name. It wasn't that she didn't trust the girl after they had held to their secret pact for the past couple of weeks. However, sailors were notorious gossipers at the worst of times. If someone overheard them, then not only would their identities be exposed, but news of Will's arrest and piracy charges would spread, and the crown would hunt him down and hang him before Elizabeth could clap eyes on him.
The noblewoman sighed as she looked down at the leather satchel she had in her lap. Inside it were the bound copies of the signed Letters of Marque and Lord Beckett's letter to Will. She had not opened the letters since that fateful night she had escaped Port Royal. She had been too busy trying to keep undercover and keeping an eye out for young Kit.
Every day of this new, rough living had left Elizabeth too sore and mentally drained to think of Lord Beckett's scathing words. Her once soft and manicured hands were now covered in sores. Her stomach constantly growled from the much smaller food rations, which tasted awful and unseasoned. Her back ached from all the heavy lifting and bending over to scrub at the deck while she was constantly tired from lack of sleep after so many nights being forced to share a tiny, cramped hammock with Kit, with only a thin blanket to keep them warm.
Some nights, it took all she had not to jump overboard and swim back to Port Royal, if only so she could sleep in the safety and comfort of her silk sheets and soft mattress.
But she could not do that now. Not when she had so much riding on finding her fiancé and that selkie daughter of the man who had ruined her wedding day.
Tonight was the first time she had some time to herself.
To Elizabeth's surprise, despite the massive workload below deck, she was not faring so poorly today. She supposed she must have gotten used to her workload. Since the sailing had been lighter today, most of the crew were up on deck enjoying some music and stories.
Now, only Elizabeth sat on a small stool in a corner of the crew quarters where she and Kit had set up their hammock. The younger girl was fast asleep in said hammock, snoring lightly from under the blankets she kept draped over her head.
She, too, was getting used to her chores, though Elizabeth could not help but notice her envy that her hands were not as scuffed as her own. Then again, the ship's cook had grown quite fond of his young helper and often gave her lighter chores that mainly included scrubbing pots and pans, peeling vegetables, helping learn to cook, and keeping stock of supplies.
I probably should not do this. Elizabeth bit her lip as she carefully opened the leather bindings and peered at all the paperwork Lord Beckett had oh-so-kindly provided her.
There were the letters of Marque, signed and bearing the official EITC seal as promised. Then she saw the scroll with Lord Beckett's seal, which was carefully placed over another folded piece of paper.
That's right, this was Beckett's private letter to Will.
Elizabeth's fingers twitched to rip the seal on the small scroll, but she stopped as her father's voice chided her in her mind.
Propriety and common decency dictated that she should leave the letter alone. It was a private message for Will's eyes only. It would be wrong to intrude on his privacy like this.
But then she remembered Beckett. Her nostrils flared as she recalled the infuriating slowness with which that smug, little man had written that message, along with that sneer.
Just what was he planning? What did he have up his sleeve?
With trembling fingers, she traced the unbroken wax seal.
Surely she could not be in the wrong here. Maybe it was private business, but Beckett had proven long ago that he was not to be trusted. What if he had written absolute lies to trick Will or her into danger?
Elizabeth knew Will was intelligent, but he could also be a bit too naive and trusting when it came to seeing the good in people. If Beckett was Peggy's birth father, then Will may have been willing to hear him out, if only because he trusted Peggy so blindly.
Gulping, she reached to undo the seal, only to fumble the scroll in her hands, the action dislodging a folded piece of paper.
Quickly, Elizabeth bent down to pick the paper off the floor, only to curse under her breath as her hat fell from her head, revealing her long blond locks. She snatched the hat off the ground, her gaze snapping this way and that to make sure no one saw her as she tucked her hair safely under the brim.
But nothing happened. Any man who was not working a shift or enjoying the music on deck was fast asleep in their hammock, too busy sawing logs to notice her or any sound she made. Still, it was a close call.
Sucking in a deep breath to steady herself, Elizabeth unfolded the piece of paper and felt her stomach lurch. There, in the light of the oil lamp, was a drawing of a young woman with curly hair.
Elizabeth scowled at the sight. Oh yes, how could she forget THIS little gift from Lord Beckett?
The culmination of Will's little sketching "studies" from his journal.
This final portrait was a good likeness. Elizabeth would give him that, though it irked her to do so.
He says he's too poor an artist to sketch me, but he has no problem drawing HER the day before our wedding and so many times before that. Elizabeth's lip curled as she glanced at the date again, only to blink as she realised there was more writing below.
"What?" She hissed, fingers gripping the page so tight her knuckles were whitening as she read the two words scrawled in Will's hand.
"My Peggy?" she breathed into the cold night air as something white hot filled her brain.
"My Peggy"?...what does he mean by "My Peggy" ? Why is she his? What does he mean by calling her HIS? Did he forget to add a word in between? He must have. Maybe he meant "My Friend Peggy" or "My housemate Peggy". Yes, that's right, it must be a mistake. After all, he wrote down her name for the marriage vows and then crossed it out. Yes…that's all it must be. Just a simple mistake he made.
She clapped a hand over her mouth as the thudding of many footsteps down wooden stairs announced the end of the musical entertainment above deck.
Quick as lightning, Elizabeth scrambled to put away all the papers back into the leather bindings. Heaven forbid anyone caught her with a picture of the selkie since she was now a pirate sailing under Jack Sparrow's colours, who knew what kind of bounty she had on her head.
"I keep tellin' ya." One of the men slurred a few hammocks away, "I keep smellin' flowers"
"That's just the drink talkin', Fred." One of his mates rolled his eyes.
"Nah mate I'm serious. I keep smellin' it around the place."
"Maybe some got mixed with the supplies?" another man grunted.
"Nah, don' think so." The man, Fred, shook his head as he lay back in his hammock. "I ain't seen any flowers anywhere on this ship. And it ain't the soap. Y'know the cap'in don't use that fancy girly stuff."
"Oh by the love of all that is good and holy would ya just get ter sleep Fred."
I need to get to Tortuga. Elizabeth sucked in a deep soothing breath as she carefully clambered back into the lower hammock below Kit. I've been too distracted in these last two weeks, but now we need to get a move on. Who knows what trouble Will has gotten into because of Peggy and Jack?
She scowled as she tucked the leather-bound letters into her shirt, only to wince as the white fluffy body of Orion the cat leapt up to curl over her stomach.
And maybe Will can explain to me what's going on with that stupid drawing.
"What do you mean you cannot find her?!"
"My Lord Beckett, we have searched high and low-"
"Then search again! She's only a little girl! She can't have gotten far! Where is the last portrait she had done? Send copies to ALL our agents across the Caribbean. Tell them to keep an eye out and bring her back under EITC custody if they should catch sight of her, and to treat her gently, and that no harm should come to her! As of now, treat this as the highest priority!"
"Of course, my Lord, but-"
"No buts! This is my daughter we're talking about—the future of my family's bloodline. I will not tolerate any failure to find her. Now begone! and don't come back in front of me until you've found her"
"Yes, Lord Beckett."
A door slams shut, and a voice sighs heavily.
"MERCER!"
"Yes Lord Beckett?"
"Head to Tortuga immediately. See if you can find anything about Peggy Blake or Jack Sparrow. And keep an eye out for news of Katrina while you are there."
"Surely you don't believe someone as innocent as Lady Katrina would go to such an awful place as Tortuga, sir?"
"I do not know Mister Mercer, but I will leave no stone unturned. I have already failed once to keep Margaret safe from the corruption of piracy; I won't make that same mistake again with Katrina, not even if it costs me my soul. Now go!"
"Of course, as you wish, my Lord."
"Give tha' here! I found it! I shoul' give it to the cap'in!"
"An I said-"
"Lads come on sto-it!"
Katrina wiped her brow as she lifted her head up from scrubbing the wooden deck to watch the men of the Speedwell squabbling in a group.
The winds were infuriatingly light today, making sailing slow, which, when added to the hot Caribbean sun blasting down from above, made the crew nervous and itchy. Slow sailing meant delays. Delays meant wasted rations and missing out on collecting precious cargo.
It also meant it would be difficult to flee from pirates who tried to raid them, or sail out of range of their cannons.
So far, the Speedwell had been lucky and had avoided nearly all other vessels in the water, but still…being stuck on the water in dead wind…
"What do you think they're arguing about?" she whispered to Elizabeth, who was scrubbing the railing beside her.
"No idea." Elizabeth muttered, "But Danny has been itchy for a while now. Wouldn't take much to set him off."
Both noblewomen paused as Captain Barnaby stormed away from the helm, where he had been talking with the quartermaster, to pull the two men apart.
"What's all this?!"
Katrina stiffened as the gap in the group revealed an intricately embroidered gold and ivory silk dress, now partially ripped from the rough handling of the sailors tugging it between them. It was so fine and luxurious that, compared to the rough cotton and grime of the ship, it seemed to shine. At first, she wondered if it was hers, but then the young noble girl remembered she had left her old clothes behind in the servants' quarters of the EITC headquarters of Port Royal when she had stolen the youngest footman's clothes.
Besides, this beautiful dress was too ostentatious for a young girl her age, and it was far too large for her, as she had not grown that tall yet, nor did she have the right curves to fill it out.
She glanced back at Elizabeth, who nudged her side with her foot and shook her head warningly, even as the Captain addressed his crew.
"If ye both fancy the dress, you'll just have to share it and wear it one after the other."
Katrina snorted, the sound drowned as the rest of the crew chuckled in good humour. Even the two men arguing allowed themselves to relax, though the thinner of the two men, Danny, still looked anxious as he said:
"Nah, it's not like that, sir. This ship is haunted."
"Is it now?" Captain Barnaby quirked a brow, clearly unimpressed as he turned to the other scuffler, a big beefy man called Franky "And you?"
"There's a female presence amongst us here sir, All the men they can feel it." Franky muttered, furtively looking around at all the other men who shuffled uneasily on their feet.
"The ghost of a lady," The familiar voice of Fred gulped, his voice sad and pitying "Widowed before her marriage, I figure it. Searching for her husband, lost at sea."
"A virgin too likely as not." Another man piped up beside him, the words making the rest of the men stir where they stood.
Katrina and Elizabeth both exchanged anxious glances at one another through the corner of their eyes. Oh great, just what they needed. Superstitious sailors, pirates or normal people, were never a good sign, and they had been out at sea for a while without stopping at port. Tensions were running high.
"I say - " Danny snatched the dress from Franky's grip. "-we throw the dress overboard and we hope the spirit follows it."
"No-no! That will anger the spirit, sir." Franky snatched the dress back, panic the only emotion in his beady eyes despite his attempt to stay calm and composed. "What we need to do is find out what the spirit needs and then just get it BACK to her!" Franky yanked at the dress, almost dragging Danny along with him.
"Enough! Enough!" Captain Barnaby shouted at the pair of men before another squabble could break out. "Yer' a pair of superstitious goats and it's got the best o' ye."
The Captain snatched the dress from both men, who looked down at their toes in embarrassment.
"Now," The captain sighed as he did his best to reel himself back into what he hoped was a professional and calm façade. "This appears to be no more, as we have a stowaway on board. A young woman, by the look of it. I want ye to search the ship and find 'er." He turned to walk away, but then hesitated when he saw none of his men had moved from their spots. "Oh, and she's probably naked."
THAT woke all the men up sharp. In seconds, the entire ship was hustling and bustling with many moving feet as all the men began checking every nook and cranny.
Pigs. Katrina scoffed at Elizabeth, who gave her a roll of the eyes in agreement as she grabbed her by the arm and tugged her to her feet just as the captain approached them, muttering angrily under his breath.
"Bloody Danny, first that mess with the logs and now this." He tossed the bundled dress towards Elizabeth with an annoyed scowl. "You, boys! Get this to my quarters and get back to work! NOW!"
"Yes, captain," the two young women nodded dutifully, keeping their voices as low as possible and their faces turned to their toes.
The captain's expression softened slightly, no doubt interpreting their caution for fear of his temper.
"At ease, lads, I ain't mad at ye. I know ye both do good work. Just stick to your chores, keep your heads down, and don't listen to this lot and their wild fancies." The captain patted Katrina in a fatherly fashion on the shoulder before strolling off to the helm to talk with the man at the wheel.
"That was close." Katrina sighed as he clambered to one of the higher decks and out of earshot.
"Too close." Elizabeth clutched the dress to her, her fingers skimming over the golden embroidered thread. It had been two weeks since she had put this dress on. Two weeks since she had stood in front of her bedroom mirror with her ladies-maids fussing over her hair and congratulating her for her wedding.
How excited she had been when her father had helped her unwrap the elaborate box the dressmaker had packed it in specially for her…
"Come with me." She coughed, avoiding Katrina's worried gaze. "I think I've got an idea."
"This is crazy." Katrina hissed as she watched Elizabeth clamber carefully up the mast using only the rigging.
It was the dead of night. Most of the crew had gone to sleep, leaving a small number of men on shift to keep an eye out. Two of them had already gone into the captain's quarters to report on their dismal situation, leaving Katrina and Elizabeth to their own devices, which suited both girls just fine.
Especially since Elizabeth seemed to have a plan up her sleeve to get them moving in the right direction, finally.
Katrina did not know whether it would work or not. But what choice did they have?
They both needed to reach Tortuga soon if they wanted their plan to work.
Katrina had no idea why Elizabeth wanted to make her way to the Pirate Port. She supposed that if her fiancé had run off on her, it would be a good place to start looking, seeing as it was one of the few free ports left that was not under the control of Katrina's father.
As for Katrina…well, if she was going to search for her pirate sister, then she supposed the infamous port would be the logical place to start.
When she first set out to leave home, Katrina had been somewhat adrift about what she should do with herself. Looking back, it was foolish of her to leave without a plan for where she wanted to go. She had just been so focused on getting as far away from her intended and his family as possible that she spared no thought for direction.
Then she remembered her sister and the stories she had heard of the Black Pearl, and it all started clicking into place.
If she was going to pursue a life for herself, then why not go out and find her sister? After all, Peggy had promised to spend more time with her before mister Sloane had whisked her away. She would be safe with her sister.
Of course, Katrina was happy for her new friend Elizabeth's help. Despite keeping her secrets to herself, the older woman had been most kind in helping her maintain her cover and looking out for her while they were both surrounded by these rough men.
Dumb louts the lot of them. Katrina rolled her eyes as she knocked at the Captain's door with her foot, his evening rations ready for him to consume on a tray.
"Come in!" The captain called somewhat distractedly.
The reason for his disarray became apparent as he continued to speak to Franky and Danny. The papers on his desk were all strewn haphazardly, much to Katrina's disgust.
Her father was always meticulous with his paperwork, so it always irked her to see other men being so disorganised. Was it truly so hard to keep things in neat piles?
"Oh Kit, lad, leave that over there, would ye? Thank you." Captain Barnaby scowled as he slapped down new papers on top of his records and maps. "It's an outrage." He muttered, more to himself than to the room at large, "Port Tariffs, berthing fees, wharf handling, and heaven help us, pilotage. Are we all to work for the East India Trading Company?"
Katrina bit her lip as she quietly bowed her head and slunk over to a nearby sideboard, her eyes catching glimpses of the missives bearing the EITC symbol and the new tariff prices. She knew her father had been enforcing rather strict regulations on regular merchant ships, but she had no idea the tariffs were going to be so brutal. From what little she had seen during her peeks at Captain Barnaby's paperwork, the Speedwell was already struggling to make a profit under the Crown's current taxes. She was also not a large or fancy merchant ship that could afford to arm itself with the newest cannons, either, so if they came under attack by pirates and lost their cargo, there would be truly no hope for the small vessel.
Katrina knew her father meant well by taking control of the business in the Caribbean. It had been lawless and dangerous for merchants for a very long time. But even this seemed extreme.
She wondered how many other vessels like the Speedwell were out there, struggling under the burden of these new laws.
Franky sucked in a deep breath, all signs of his earlier superstitious fear now gone in the face of business.
"I'm afraid, sir, Tortuga is the only free port left in these waters."
"A pirate port is what you mean." Captain Barnaby scoffed, waving a hand at Katrina to leave his dinner be, even as he strode up to his men "Well, I'm sorry, an honest sailor is what I am. I make my livin' fair and I sleep well each night."
Finally, Katrina sucked in a sharp breath as something pale swooped by the window of the captain's cabin.
She was not the only one who noticed. Franky and Danny had seen the spectral shape too and had all but jumped where they stood.
"What the-" Captain Barnaby frowned at the two men and young "boy" in confusion and quickly turned to look over his shoulder just in time to see the strange shape whip around a corner.
"S-s-Sir!" Danny pointed at the window, and at once the three men scrambled over to stare out the glass panes, only to leap back as the strange shape passed before them.
It was, to their greatest astonishment, the golden wedding dress from that morning.
"But that…that can't be…" Captain Barnaby gasped, and Katrina took that moment to cry out:
"Captain over here!"
It took everything Katrina had not to laugh as Captain Barnaby, Danny and Franky all squeaked like mice and spun to face her, faces pale and eyes wide.
"What-what is it, lad?"
"Look! Out here!" Katrina pointed out the door that she had opened before dashing outside.
She quickly sent a quick thumbs up to the rigging, hoping Elizabeth saw her as she dashed towards the railing of the poop deck. Behind her, Franky, Danny and Captain Barnaby all rushed out, almost tripping over their feet in their haste.
Katrina heard the rustle of material and quickly pointed up towards the rigging where the golden dress now hung suspended in mid-air.
She had to admit she was a little proud of how well she had tied the garment to Elizabeth's makeshift puppet rods. During their downtime, Fred and Gregory had been teaching her knot tying, and she had been most anxious that the ropes they had used might not hold under the weight of all that silk.
But to her great relief, the dress stayed secure. It was good that the night was so dark and filled with fog, for it shrouded the thin ropes, keeping the dress suspended in the air even as Elizabeth carefully moved one long sleeve so that it pointed to the captain and then out to the starboard side.
"She…she wants you to do something?" Danny gulped as all eyes turned on the Captain, who looked as pale as if his mother's ghost had rolled over his grave.
"Maybe she's trying to give a sign?" Katrina piped in oh-so-helpfully, doing her best to sound meek and timid.
"Aye…I think you might be right, lad." Captain Barnaby breathed only to jump back as the dress swooped starboard and slid out of sight.
As all the men scrabbled to look over the side of the ship, Katrina looked up and saw Elizabeth's slender shadow give her a small wave before returning both hands to her task.
The second signal.
Katrina watched as Elizabeth puppeteered the dress to swoop over the man's head.
"Over there! Look for a sign!" Captain Barnaby pointed across the deck, and as one, all the men rushed to the other side of the ship.
As their backs were turned, Katrina quickly pulled out a thin candle she had stolen from the hold earlier and lit it on the flame of a nearby lantern. Then, when she was sure their backs were turned on her, she bent down and held the small light over the ground.
At once, the gunpowder she had spent so long trying to pour out in the dark sparked and caught flame. Katrina leapt back, a wide grin spreading across her face.
While Elizabeth had come up with the ghostly dress, this had been one of Katrina's ideas, and she could not help but feel a little smug at how well it had turned out.
She had been worried it might burn down the ship, but seeing as they had not left any oil on the wet deck and had moved any ammunition that could explode out of the path of the gunpowder, it should have been able to be put out once the gunpowder had burned away.
One thing was for certain: these men would not forget such a sight in a hurry.
Katrina's expression fell slightly as she remembered travelling with her father through London, watching the conjurers and street performers through the window of their carriage. Charlatans and swindlers, he had called them with disdain—people who were to be admired for sure, but never to be trusted.
But this isn't like we're stealing money from these men. Katrina bit her lip. We need to get somewhere, and then we'll be on our way. If anything, we'll be doing them a favour because if they can sell some stuff in Tortuga without the taxes, then they can make their money back.
Katrina was quick to squash down the guilt building in her stomach as she thought about all the effort her father had put into restoring peace and order.
No. She could feel guilty later. Right now, she had to find a way to Tortuga and her sister…but first, to make sure these stupid men saw her "sign" from beyond the grave.
"Look! There! There it is! There's the sign!"
"That's seaweed."
"Seaweed can be a sign."
"Looks more like entrails"
"That would be a bad sign."
"Captain-"
"Not now, boy!" Captain Barnaby waved Katrina off, much to her annoyance.
She was glad Elizabeth chose that moment to slide down a nearby rope from the mast and land beside her.
"They haven't seen it yet?" She frowned, and Katrina scowled.
"I tried but…well…" She jerked a thumb at the men by the railing as they all bickered about the flotsam and jetsam passing by their ship and what they could mean.
Men. Elizabeth and Katrina both rolled their eyes at one another, the former straightening up and coughing loudly in her 'boys' voice:
"What's that over there?!"
Captain Barnaby turned around, his mouth open to shout at the young lad, only for the words to die in his throat as yellow firelight illuminated his face.
"By the powers." Danny breathed while Franky quickly made the sign of the cross across his chest.
There on the deck, blazing hot and bright in the night, in yellow flames was one word.
"Tortuga?"
All eyes turned to the captain, who looked almost ready to faint.
Could it be? First, the woman's dress, then the whispers of Tortuga among the crew and now this ungodly message?
He looked between his men and the word blazing before his eyes.
If they went to the pirate port, there was a chance they could get looted by thugs and ruffians. Or if they did do business there, they could be fined heavily by the EITC and the Crown for trading with unlicensed merchants.
But then, if they didn't go, then who knew what this unholy spectre from beyond the grave would do to their souls? They might get damned to the Locker.
With a trembling breath and a sweaty brow, Captain Barnaby straightened up to his full height and did his best to cough.
"Well…what are you waiting for, men! Step to it. We have an appointment at Tortuga."
Elizabeth and Katrina sighed in relief.
Finally.
Finally.
After two weeks of drifting, they were going to Tortuga.
In the dark of the night, Katrina Beckett grinned to herself.
Black Pearl, here I come.
Notes:
Hi there, everyone! Long time no see.
Yeah, life got a bit on top of me, and I also had a bit of writer's block. But now I'm over it (hopefully) and can get back in the saddle.
I got a laugh while editing this chapter because I noticed that I had given Katrina the nickname 'Kitty', the same name as one of Elizabeth Bennett's sisters in Pride and Prejudice, in which Keira Knightley also played Elizabeth Bennett. Not only that, but Tom Hollander (who plays Lord Beckett) also played the role of Mr Collins in that film. Poor Tom Hollander. That's twice his character gets screwed over by a woman named Elizabeth played by Keira Knightly!
Speaking of Elizabeth, I'm excited to continue writing for her bits, as she's an interesting character in her own right, even without the romance in her story. Gotta say i don't envy Will when she gets her hands on him for what he wrote in his journal but we'll wait and see.
It's always fun writing Beckett. He's so petty and smarmy and such fun. It's kinda funny that both his daughters are now runaways. Poor guy. All he wants to do is build his evil empire, and both his kids keep running off on him.
On that note, let me know what you think about Katrina so far. I'm looking forward to fleshing her out a bit more moving forward in the next few chapters.
As always, please fave, follow and/or review if you enjoyed and want to read more.
Aideu till the next chapter,
FuzzyBeta
Chapter 28: A Warm Tortugan Welcome
Summary:
"I'll tell you, mate, if every town in the world were like this one, no man would ever feel unwanted."
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
"So, this is Tortuga?"
"Apparently so."
Katrina's nose wrinkled as the smell of sweat, alcohol and something else that she did NOT want to know about filled her nostrils.
Katrina Beckett and Elizabeth Swann stared at the pirate-infested town from the pier. They had only heard stories of this town's reputation as a den of debauchery, sin and crookedness.
However, both of them had merely written it off as pure fantasy. Of course, they had expected it not to be as fancy or as well policed as the other colonies, but this was…this was pure chaos.
There was no other way to describe it.
It was utter chaos everywhere they looked. The bedlam of songs and shouts from taverns mingled with the drunken shouts of men and women toppling out of said establishments or in the gutters.
Whores were selling themselves on streetcorners and in doorways to buildings, winking at passersby or snarling and shoving off patrons that could not afford their services. Katrina had never seen so many women being so loud or exposing so much of their flesh. She had always been taught to be demure and to wear clothes that, while beautiful and flattering, were modest and covered her from the sinful stares of men. Yet there was an almost terrifying, wild and bedraggled beauty to the women around them.
Sailors of all ethnicities and ages were crowding the streets and the pier. Some were working on getting ships repaired or restocked, while others were enjoying the pleasures of the raucous nightlife.
There were stores and stalls with vendors selling foods and trinkets, many of them shouting over one another as they tried to swindle and haggle with customers or promote their latest wares.
"Well…this is charming." Elizabeth snorted, clearly unimpressed by the bedlam before them.
"I guess…" Katrina mumbled, reaching up to scratch the white head of Orion the cat, who had slung himself around her shoulders despite having been tethered to her with a small piece of rope tied to his collar. He had never liked loud places. Even when they lived in London, he had stuck close to Katrina whenever she took him out into the city. Now he clung around her shoulders, glaring at all the passersby with his big yellow eyes whenever they paused to look at his mistress's sweet, pale face.
Even when dressed as a boy, with a grey bandanna over her head to mask her dark curls, it was clear to see she was a pretty child. Elizabeth held her younger friend's hand as they wove along the crowded pier, not daring to let herself think of what would happen if one of these rough characters got their grimy paws on her.
These filthy pirates will eat her alive. Elizabeth bit her lip, remembering the fear she had felt when Barbossa had stared her down at that awful dinner. There was hunger in his eyes as he waved the green apple cruelly in front of her face.
"Lizzy?" Katrina asked carefully, keeping her eyes peeled. They were both far, far enough away from the Speedwell, and they could not see any of its crew nearby.
"Yes?" Elizabeth shook herself.
"What are we looking for? Is your fiancé on one of these ships?"
"I think so." Elizabeth gulped hard as Will's face popped into her mind, accompanied by the familiar broiling of confused anger as she remembered his journal. "Well…more like hoping so. I do not know if the ship is here or not, but Tortuga is one of the ports it frequents the most, so…" She trailed off as a vagrant crossed their path, his stench of alcohol, vomit and horse dung so powerful it almost made Elizabeth and Katrina gag and Orion hiss.
"Wh-what's the sh-ship's name?" Katrina spluttered, as she and Elizabeth both quickened their paces to get away from the foul stench.
"The Black Pearl," Elizabeth said, her voice almost getting lost in the cacophony of the Tortugan nightlife.
"The Black Pearl? Your fiancé is on the Black Pearl?" Katrina's eyes widened.
"Yes, she should be around here somewhere. Keep your eyes peeled for a black ship with black sails."
"Uh…yes, I-I will."
Oh my god… Katrina gulped, glad for the business of the street as Elizabeth craned her neck to look further down the pier.
Oh my god…She's Elizabeth Swann…she's Governor Swann's daughter…she was Mister Turner's fiancée?! Of course! Of course, that makes so much sense. Why else would another nobleborn like her also be running away like I am? By god, Katrina, you have been so DENSE!
"There! Spotted it. Come on, Kitty!" Elizabeth called over the hubbub, and Katrina shook herself as she felt the older woman detach from her hand in her haste to dash towards the vessel.
She could catalogue that revelation for later. Right now, she was so close to finding her sister.
Just you wait, Peggy. I'm almost there.
James Norrington sighed as he finished wiping down the bar of the Twelve Daggers inn. It had been a long night. A depressing night, too.
It had been two weeks since Peggy Blake had set sail from Tortuga in the arms of that bloody Will Turner. It had been two weeks since Norrington had heard the news of her impending death. He had tried not to think about it. He tried to dull his thoughts with a drink whenever a thought about the poor young woman popped into his head.
He did not know why it bothered him so much. People died every day, didn't they? Men, women, children.
But none of those people had been the ones to bother giving him a second chance at life.
Is this to be our fate? We give up all we have for love and duty, and then we die alone and forgotten like garbage at the bottom of a ship or a bottle…
"Oy! Commodore! Ye alright there?"
He glanced up at Annamaria behind the bar, cleaning glasses and watching him closely. Despite his attempts to keep his sorrows to himself, the pirate woman had noticed his dark turn of mind over the last two weeks. She kept saying she was merely watching her employee, but Norrington knew better.
Annamaria liked to believe she was too tough to care about anyone, but she was just as much of a worrywart as her mother, Marigold.
Norrington had to admit, though it had initially grated on his pride, he had grown quite fond of the pirate and her family. They were a rough lot, but they treated their employees well, and they had taken good care of him over the last few weeks, despite doing their best to keep him from consuming the liquor he needed to forget his troubles.
He knew it was a filthy habit, but the alcohol was the only thing helping keep his mind from straying to the dark and depressing thoughts.
Tonight, he had found a way to fill his system by drinking the dregs from people's abandoned cups whenever he could find them. It was not too hard. The inn was overcrowded, fights were breaking out, and many were leaving their tables to talk to other people, so it was easy for him to down a couple of half mugs when someone wasn't looking while Annamaria was too busy.
"I'm fine." He grunted, not meeting the woman's dark brown eyes as she narrowed them upon him.
"Ye don't have to put on a brave face if ye don't want to." She muttered with a grimace. "I know how much ye hate Jack-"
"He's not my favourite person, no." Norrington agreed bitterly, "But I'll be fine, Anna. Truly." He added, wincing as two men began arguing loudly at a nearby table.
Annamaria sighed heavily. The two men were regular patrons who often fought over the payment of their drinks. So, with a heavy, sagging of shoulders, she left the bar to sort them out.
Norrington watched her go, a small smile playing on his lips as he watched the dark woman put her hands on her hips and scold the two patrons in tones that could have made the most bitter drill sergeants stand to attention.
He chuckled and turned back to the bar, his ears pricking up as the voices of two men nearby reached his ears.
"I know it's not my most stellar of work, but I do not have much time."
Norrington quietly turned his face and saw a handsome young man in dark clothes with a fair head of hair and the shadow of a beard sitting at the opposite end of the bar. Why did he look familiar?
"I am leaving at first light with the Pearl, and I need to stay sharp tonight," the fair-haired man grimaced at his companion, a darker-haired man in finer-cut clothes and bearing a nasty scar on his face.
"And mister Turner and Miss Beckett? I don't see either with you tonight."
"All will be explained in my report. Boss's eyes only."
Turner? Norrington blinked in surprise, keeping his head down and ears pricked. Why would these two men be talking about Turner? But even as Norrington watched both men through the corner of his eye, he remembered where he had seen the fair-haired man before.
He had been travelling with Will Turner and Peggy Blake the last time they had been in Tortuga.
What was he doing passing on information about them behind their back?
"Oh, I would never dream of opening our master's private messages." The scar-faced man drawled sarcastically. "Not even yours."
"Good." The fair-haired man snorted. "Because this is not something you want getting out."
"Speaking of getting out. Here's some new orders from the top." The scar-faced man slid a small envelope across the grubby countertop, his head turning sharply around to check on anyone watching
Norrington quickly turned away, swiping a glass from the bartop and pretending to wipe it down with his cleaning rag. The scarred man's eyes were cold and calculating as they swept over him with dismissive disdain before returning to his younger partner in business. His voice was too low to be heard over the din around them when he spoke next.
Norrington shivered. There was something about the scarred man that put him on edge. A creepiness and slipperiness that did not quite match the rest of the pirates in this bar. There were shady characters in the Twelve Daggers, but this man was completely sober and so unerringly cold.
A killer.
Even the fair-haired man he was conversing with seemed to regard him with the same wariness as he opened the letter offered to him.
Something thudded into Norrington, and he winced in surprise.
"Ah."
"O-oh! S-sorry, sir." A young voice bleated.
Norrington looked down as a young lad with his head turned down brushed past him, a white cat draped around his lean shoulders.
Must be one of the cabin boys from one of the ships. Norrington mused, only to feel his gut sink as he remembered a familiar head of copper curls. That's right…Peggy Blake had pretended to be a cabin boy to get access to his ship once, hadn't she?
Though the deception had wounded his pride at the time, Norrington now couldn't help but admit he was impressed by the ruse. Peggy was far womanlier in shape than Elizabeth, yet she somehow managed to make him believe he was talking to a boy when she was in that disguise.
She should have treaded the boards if she weren't so set on being a pirate. He snorted to himself, his eyes straying to the white cat around the young lad's shoulders, which glared and hissed back at him even as its owner meandered through the crowd and out of sight.
Katrina bit her lip as she wove through the crowd, her head ducked low as she desperately tried to keep her face out of sight.
She could not believe Mister Mercer was here. That was not good, not at all. If he found her, she'd be caught and turned back over to her father.
Luckily for her, he had been too absorbed in talking to another man. Katrina had only seen the back of the man's fair head, but from the expression on Mercer's face, it must have been one of her father's men, too.
How many people from the company were secretly working in Tortuga? Her father never mentioned having business deals in this den of cutthroats and thieves.
She just hoped nobody thought to look closer at her face. She had somehow lost sight of Elizabeth while they had been trying to enter the Twelve Daggers through the massive crowd collecting at the front door. She hoped the older woman would quickly find her, or she would soon find her sister Peggy. She had to be around here somewhere. She had heard from the tough, dark woman who had been serving drinks that Jack Sparrow and the Crew of the Black Pearl were here recruiting for new crewmembers.
They must have had a room or a table set up-
The sound of wood dragging against stone hit Katrina's ears, and she winced.
Quickly, she turned and, to her relief, saw a scruffy older sailor with greying sideburns dragging a couple of wooden chairs to sit behind a table. A young cabin boy sat by his side, tanned skin wrapped in bandages and bruises all over his face.
He looked roughed up and oddly nervous as he glanced around the establishment. Katrina thought he was looking for someone, but he couldn't spot them.
Well, good luck with that. The Twelve Daggers was packed tight as a tin of sardines.
There was movement behind the table, and Katrina's eyes darted up in time to see a man with dreadlocks, a twin-plaited goatee, and a red bandanna casually pat the boy on the shoulder before slouching his way over to a stool set aside against a pillar and a potted plant, a pint of ale in his hands.
Katrina noticed the man's very odd gait curiously. It looked less like a walk and more like a drunken seagull stumbling. Yet somehow, Katrina did not think the man was drunk. His brown, kohl-lined eyes seemed far too alert for that.
"Mreow!"
"Orion!" Katrina hissed as the white feline suddenly leapt from her shoulders, dragging her along as the thin piece of rope she had tied around its neck connected with her wrist. "Orion no! Ah!" She winced as she tripped over her feet.
A man's voice yelped in a most undignified manner.
Katrina looked up and saw that she had fallen right before the feet of the strange pirate with the dreadlocks. Orion was clawing at his leg, trying to climb up onto him despite his attempts to shake him off as quietly as possible.
"Go on then! Shoo! Shoo!" he hissed, kohl-lined eyes narrowing as the feline leapt into his lap. "Oy! Gerrof puss. Get-hmm? What's this?"
Katrina gulped as the strange man peered curiously at her face.
"Oy, kid. What ye doing down there ey? Ye ain't one of Anna's usual little birdies."
"Huh? Who's Anna?" Katrina blinked.
"Ahh! I got it. Yer one of Old Lucinda's new recruits, aren't you?" He scoffed and rolled his eyes "I gotta say yer a bit young te be flingin' yerself at me lass. I don't fancy children meself…" he paused to examine her face with a critical eye "Even if they are as pretty as a doll."
"Excuse me! I did not fling myself at you, SIR! Nor would I ever!" Katrina flushed at the disgusting insinuation as she leapt to her feet. As she dusted herself off, she could not help but realise the man was eyeing her up and down with a curious expression. At first, she worried that she had perhaps been lying about his attraction for young girls, yet when she met his eyes, she was surprised to see no desire at all. Instead, his eyes were a mixture of fondness and intrigue as his grin widened, revealing a couple of gold teeth in his mouth.
"Ah, shame. Your loss, love. Ahh!" He hissed in pain as the cat tried to dig its claws into his thigh. "Agh! Bloody hell. Gerrof me you stupid vermin!"
"Don't hit him!" Katrina scolded, though she quickly scooped Orion from the man's lap, much to the cat's annoyance "I'm sorry he disturbed you, sir, but that is no excuse for you to hit him."
The man stared at Katrina, and she stiffened with dismay as she realised she had slipped straight into her normal, posh tones, which stood out starkly from the rough or common drawls from the other patrons.
"What's your name?" The man asked, tilting his head interestedly at her, his brown eyes sharp and calculating.
"I beg your pardon?" Katrina winced as Orion wriggled in her grip.
"Your name, love? It's clear neither you nor that vermin belong in this rat nest, and yet here you are, bold as brass talkin' to me without a care. I'd be impressed if it weren't so bloody odd."
"…Kitty…" Katrina muttered, biting her lip as she glanced at their surroundings. "Kitty Blake."
"Kitty Blake…" Something sparked in the man's eyes. Recognition? Or was it something else? But it was gone before Katrina could determine what it was.
"And your name, sir?" Katrina narrowed her eyes at him, her cheeks burning with embarrassment as he snorted in surprise and took a swig of his ale.
"My name? Ye don't know who I am?"
"Why else would I be asking?" Katrina quirked a brow, and the man chuckled softly.
"Should've known." He mumbled, yet before Katrina could ask him what he meant, a voice hissed:
"Captain!"
Katrina sucked in a sharp breath as a man approached her and the strange man. She immediately recognised him as the older sailor sitting with the boy at the table.
He eyed Katrina with curiosity and suspicion, then turned to the strange, dreadlocked man.
"We're all set up whenever yer ready."
"Well done, Mister Gibbs. But you'll have to take the reins this time. I'm busy."
"So I see." Gibbs tilted his head at the young girl. "One of Anna's errand runners, ey?"
"No. And before ye ask, Mister Gibbs, she ain't with Lucinda either." The strange man's smirk widened slyly like a fox "Isn't that right, Miss Blake?"
Katrina gulped anxiously. Something about the way his lips curled around the name gave Katrina the feeling that this man had guessed something about her.
Did he know her sister? Was he a friend of Peggy's? Or had she done something foolish and walked right into a rival pirate?
Oh no, why had she been so stupid?
"Blake?" Gibbs frowned at the man, who snorted and waved him off.
"Go on, Gibbs, I'll take care of this one."
"There's…there's no need." Katrina spluttered, fear gripping her as she in turn gripped Orion tighter in her arms, much to his displeasure, "I'm sorry to have bothered you, sirs-"
"Not a bother at all, Kitty Blake," the man with the dreadlocks smirked, reaching out to grab her by the arm and pull her back beside him. "In fact, why don't you join me over here? I'd like to know what a posh little princess like you is doin' out of her dear ol' dad's clutches ey?"
"Y-you know my father?!" Katrina gasped, completely forgetting her need for secrecy in her absolute terror. Even worse was when Gibbs gave the man an odd look, a shrug and then shuffled off back to his table in front of them.
"Oh aye! Your dad and I go way back, love." The dreadlock-headed man smirked quietly as he pulled Katrina back into the shadows of the pillar with him. "He and I did quite a lot of business back in the day…till the bastard sank my ship." He added bitterly and Katrina sucked in a bracing breath.
"Please let me go, sir." She muttered.
"Let you go?" the man quirked a brow, but he did not let go. "Why would I do that?"
"Because if you don't, I'll scream," Katrina growled, her nostrils flaring as she glared at the man.
However, the expression only made him chuckle.
"Oh, I bet you will love, and I'll bet you have a holler as loud as yer sister's if yer anythin' like her. Speakin' of which, here's a bit of advice, love. Don' go throwin' around Pegsy's name like that willy nilly. She got a lot of friends here, it's true, but she also as made a lot of enemies sailin' under my colours"
"Your colours?" Katrina stopped squirming at once, staring at the man up and down. Wait a moment…those eyes…the strange hair…the slightly drunken sway…
Memories of her time on the Speedwell's kitchens with Harris the cook drifted across her mind. In all their talks, there was only one Pirate that ever matched such a bizarre description.
"You're…You're Jack Sparrow?"
Kitty frowned. The way Harris spoke of the man made him sound so dashing and smooth... But this strange scallywag that sat before her…
She looked him up and down once more, taking in the red bandanna, the beads in his dreadlocks, and the striped red and white sash around his waist… that sly grin… the fingers on those hands, which had surprising strength despite looking like spindly, sweaty, and tanned spider legs beneath those rings.
She supposed he was charismatic; she would give him that. Something about those kohl-lined brown eyes drew one in, as if they held many secrets.
But the rest of him… Katrina had expected… well, she wasn't quite sure what she had expected, but this wasn't it.
"Captain," Jack Sparrow corrected her, letting go of her arm to take another swig of ale. "Captain Jack Sparrow. Ye gotta use the right title love, that's very important 'round here y'know. And you, Kitty-Cat, aren't supposed to be in a place like this."
"Says who?" Katrina pouted, and Jack snorted.
"Says that posh little voice of yours and those dainty hands." He pointed at the hands clutching the cat Orion to her chest. "Smooth as a baby's arse. Ye spend yer days doing fancy needlework and dancing, I'll warrant?"
"Not recently." Katrina straightened up proudly. "I've been sailing these last two weeks."
"Nah, you haven't." Jack rolled his eyes. "Ye've been servin' on a ship but ye ain't sailed properly yet. Let me guess, ye've been stuck in the kitchens and scrubbing around on deck doin' chores and whatnot?"
"Well…yes." Katrina blushed, "But I was still a part of a ship's crew."
"Which crew?"
"The Speedwell."
"Ugh! That old tub." Jack pulled a face, "Hardly got anythin' good on her from what I hear."
"Still counts," Katrina mumbled stubbornly.
"Not among pirates, it doesn't." Jack drained the last of his drink. "But somethin' tells me ye want ter change all that ey? Which brings me to my next question." He leaned in to eye her face critically and murmur, "What's the daughter of one o' the biggest men in the EITC doin' in Tortuga of all places?"
"I…" Katrina sucked in a deep soothing breath "I…came here to search for my sister."
"Yes, I got that much love, I ain't an idiot. No matter how much yer sister calls me one." He added with a fond grunt. "But why do you want to come here and find her? Ye hardly know the woman."
"I…" Katrina bit her lip. "I…I…I guess…I guess I wanted to…My father, he…" She looked hurriedly around at their surroundings. She could not see Mercer anywhere. She leaned in and whispered, "I ran away."
"That much was obvious," Jack sighed in exasperation, waving his hand for her to hurry up her tale "Runnin' away from what?"
"A boy," Kitty mumbled bitterly.
"A boy?" Jack rolled his eyes "You and your sister…I swear, your heart breaks once and ye got to run off to join me because ye-"
"N-no! he didn't break my heart" Kitty scowled over him "I…He…my father wanted me to marry this boy…and he was completely and utterly-" She coughed, trying to compose herself, though Jack could see her grip tighten around Orion again with anger. "He was not proper husband material if you understand my meaning."
"Ahh! I see," the pirate captain nodded in understanding, his lips curling into a smirk as he leaned back against the column behind him. "Let me guess, you were expecting some sort of sweet and dashing prince charming to sweep you off your feet, ey?"
"No!" Katrina blushed indignantly. "I was hoping he'd at least be somewhat decent and kind, but he's-"
"All looks and no brains, or too much brains and no looks?" Jack snorted into his mug of ale.
"Neither." Katrina sighed. "I-I mean, he's not bad-looking, but he's…" She sucked in another breath, but it seemed to Jack that the floodgates were starting to crack. "He's nothing but a good-for-nothing, useless, stupid, boorish, sneering little pig-headed snot with an empty head that contains nothing but sawdust between the ears!"
Jack paused mid-sip to smirk at the girl's flushed cheeks and flared nostrils as she continued to rant. Her voice was quiet, but the rage was palpable even from his seat.
"And the worst thing is that my father is insisting HE's the only option I have for a husband." She sighed, "I spent so many years doing everything my father told me. I danced in shoes so tight my feet got blisters, and I studied so hard that I could hardly sleep at night. Every step I took was scrutinised, every word picked apart, and all my food watched so I would keep a good figure to bear children. Even my friends had to be people my father chose based on status and connections. Everyone I talked to had to be investigated and vetted before it was decided if they were 'worthy' of my company. I couldn't leave the house without an escort or my father's permission. All those years I put in to follow the rules and make my father proud and to be the perfect lady, and now he tells me it was all so I could marry that pathetic skirt-chasing toad and deal with his stupid family and his creepy father?!"
Well, what do you know? Even after all these years, good old Cutler is still a little controlling prick. Jack's eyebrows rose as he thoughtfully fingered the side of his mug. He was not even sure why he was surprised. Peggy had told him about her and her mother's imprisonment, but somehow, Jack had not wondered if that was merely a one-off thing to keep the two selkies in line.
That the man would be as controlling with his legitimate child to the point that even she would consider piracy as a preferable life option was downright amazing. He would laugh if he weren't so bewildered by the entire situation.
"And so what?" He muttered carefully, taking advantage of the girl's pause to breathe, "Ye thought ye'd give it all up to become a pirate like Pegsy? That's a big leap to make love. What with ye havin' yer whole life ahead of ye. How old are you, ten?"
"Nearly thirteen." Katrina grimaced.
"Oh yeah…Pegsy told me that, didn't she?" Jack nodded almost to himself. "And what? You think ye can waltz right in here and join her on the Black Pearl just like that?"
"Well, you're recruiting, aren't you?" Katrina shot back without hesitation. "The workers at the pier said you needed more men-"
"Aye, love. Emphasis on the 'men' part," Jack held up a finger. "As in, able-bodied men who can haul heavy ropes and hold their own in a fight. You are still just a little girl-"
"My sister was younger than I when she joined your crew the first time."
"Aye. But she didn't have her big and powerful daddy–or should I say short and powerful daddy – heh! – huntin' her down across the seven seas, did she?"
"Yes, she did." Katrina's eyes narrowed. "My father said he searched high and low for her after she fell overboard."
"Yeah? Well, he didn't search high or low enough."
"Look, you can sit there and sneer at me all you want, sir, but I came here to find my sister, and I am not leaving you or the Black Pearl alone until I do. I'll swim after you myself if I must."
"Oh, you will, will you?" Jack snorted.
"I made it this far, didn't I?"
Jack smirked, enjoying how the young girl's face flushed with frustration and her nostrils flared. Only one other young woman could glare at him like that with those grey-blue eyes.
Grey-blue eyes, which, now that Jack thought about it, were so much like her father's…
He was surprised he had never seen the resemblance until now. Then again, Peggy's red hair and freckles were distinctive from Beckett's fair and freckle-free face. This little dark-haired doll, though, he could see it very clearly.
Oh yes…he could see it all so clearly now.
Who'd have guessed it? He smirked as he watched the poor girl squirm slightly under his scrutinising gaze. Not only will I have the key to the Devil's heart soon, but I now have the key to that bastard Beckett's heart, too. This almost seems too good to be true.
"S-so…" Katrina coughed nervously, snapping him out of his thoughts "What's it going to be, Captain Sparrow?"
What a demanding little chit. He mused. Using his title to butter him up.
"What's what going to be, love?" his smirk quirked to one side as she bristled and pouted.
"Will you take me to my sister or not? She is still a part of your crew, yes?"
"Oh, your sister is still a part of my crew, love." He answered carefully, "But she ain't with me here in Tortuga if that's what you're wonderin'"
"Then where is she?" Katrina frowned.
"She's busy on an errand for me," Jack answered airily, waving his hand about.
"And again I ask, where?" Katrina's eyes narrowed, and Jack sighed.
She was a persistent one.
"And again, I say, she's busy on an errand for me, her captain —a very important one." He added, hoping she would pick up on the firmness of his tone and let the matter drop.
To her credit, she nodded with understanding, though he could tell by the sharpening of her gaze that she was far from finished with him.
"But you know where she is?"
"Yes."
"Which means you could take me to her?" Katrina prompted.
"I could." Jack leaned back and steepled his fingers "But what would be in it for me?"
Katrina paused.
She hadn't considered payment. She would not sell herself and did not think Jack would ask her to. Despite how his eyes distractedly roamed over the wenches in the tavern, he never looked at her with the same licentiousness.
And he was right about her being a small, weak-armed girl. What use would she be when he already had a cabin boy?
But then… then she remembered being on the docks with Elizabeth, as the older woman had asked a man rolling barrels where to find the enigmatic captain.
Meanwhile, somewhere to the side, a dirty man with a wooden eye complained to a much shorter man with a bald head about the rats he had seen on the pier, and how they hoped none would hop on the ship.
"I have this." She held up Orion before Jack, who stiffened as the feline glowered moodily at him.
"The cat?" Now it was the pirate's turn to be confused. "You're giving me the cat?"
"No," Katrina smirked proudly. "I'm loaning him to you in exchange for taking me aboard. I heard your men complaining about not having any cat aboard, and Orion loves to hunt. You get a cat to keep your ship clear of vermin, and I get to come on your ship and find my sister."
"And prey tell what's stopping me from gutting you where you stand and just taking the damn cat?"
"What else good, sir, but my sister?" Katrina sniffed haughtily. "I may not have known her for long, but I do not think she would be too happy to hear you hurt her flesh and blood."
Jack stared at the young girl.
She had guts, he'd give her that.
Guts and a quick mind. Not even Peggy had found an excuse that fast when he first met her. Granted, she had been a scared and traumatised child back then. Still…it would be good to have a cat aboard the ship again. Peggy and the rest of the crew had been bugging him about it for the last few months, and it would be nice to have an animal aboard that was not for eating or shooting (like that blasted monkey).
Also, she was right about Peggy coming after his blood if he laid a finger on her, or let any other man do any harm to her.
Damn his cabin girl. Even when she was halfway across the Caribbean in the arms of that blasted whelp, she was still holding his balls hostage.
The things I do for you, Pegsy.
"Fine. You got yourself a deal, Kitty-Cat." Jack held out his hand, and Katrina took it daintily on autopilot.
"You gotta grip harder than that, love." Jack rolled his eyes and, before she could protest, turned their hands so they were locked in a proper grip. "Now go on. Give it a proper shake."
Katrina timidly tightened her grip, grimacing as she felt the rough calluses and cold press of metal from the many rings he wore on his fingers. She was sure she would see the metal indentations in her flesh if she gripped harder.
"Now that's how ye seal a deal properly", Jack nodded with approval "Though we've gotta do somethin' about those scrawny arms of yours. You want to be a proper pirate like yer sister, you've gotta work hard for it. Speakin' of work, do ye know how to hold a sword?"
"Uh…" Katrina looked down at her toes.
"I'll take that as a no." Jack tutted, shaking his head as he pulled out another stool from around the pillar and drew it beside him. "Now go on, take a seat. We'll be here a while yet."
Katrina followed the captain's gaze as he turned to watch Gibbs. The older sailor was sitting at the table before the pillar with the young boy, a short line of scraggly, dirty men lined up before them. Most looked either halfway in the grave or had emerged from a gutter.
Katrina's nose wrinkled as the smell of rancid alcohol hit her from the nearest man. Now that she looked closer at the queue in front of Gibbs, all the men looked drunk off their faces or falling apart at the seams.
"Captain, how goes the recruiting?" A man's voice muttered as a shadow fell over Katrina from behind.
Katrina froze. She knew that voice. It spoke in tones far more casual and gruff than usual, but she knew it so well.
"Goin' alright so far," Jack grunted, flicking out his compass and giving it a slight shake of annoyance. "Blast this thing."
"I see we've got ourselves another cabin boy at least." The man behind Katrina smirked, clapping a large, friendly hand on her shoulder "What's your name la…" his voice fell away, and Katrina's eyes shut in dismay.
"Miss Katrina?" the voice gasped in shock as the man quickly grabbed her by the shoulders to get a better look at her.
"Mister Sloane." Katrina gulped as she looked up into the familiar face of her father's clerk.
He wore much rougher and more worn dark clothing than usual when in her father's company, and his fair head of hair was a little mussed up. His usually defined clean-shaven jaw was now home to a thin shadow of stubble. However, despite his slightly ruffled appearance, he was still as handsome as ever. His light green eyes were keen and worried even as he drank in all her features.
"Oh, you two know one another? Good." Jack snorted distractedly at the pair "Mister Sloane, young Kitty here will be in your care. Keep her busy with Jimmy. Show her the ropes an' all that. Keep her out from under everyone's feet." He turned his attention back to his compass, shaking it once more and softly cursing.
"What are you doing here?" Sloane hissed, hardly caring for the captain's antics as he patted the young girl down, his eyes scanning the tavern for any watchful eyes. He had no clue where Mercer was now, but the last thing he needed was for that reptile to discover THIS! Forget the hangman's noose; he'd be shark food in two seconds if anyone knew what was happening.
"Excuse me, young miss, but I believe that is what I'm supposed to say." Sloane's shocked face fell into a frown. "Good grief, how did you get here? I barely received the news of your disappearance till today."
"I…I ran away."
"Stowed away." Jack supplied oh-so-helpfully, not taking his annoyed frown off his compass.
"You stowed away?" Sloane hissed, looking over his shoulder and pulling up a chair to sit beside Katrina so it would not cause a scene.
"Technically, I joined a crew." Katrina squeaked softly as Orion the cat suddenly decided to launch himself from her arms to sit on Sloane's lap, rubbing his head up close against the rough stubble on the man's jaw.
"Which crew?" Sloane's eyes narrowed as he absently petted the cat in his lap.
"The Speedwell," Katrina muttered. "But I wasn't caught."
"But you could have been." Sloane rolled his eyes, running a hand over his face "Miss Katrina, you know what the punishment for stowing away is? Do you realise the danger you put yourself in-"
"I know!" Katrina folded her arms "I'm not that naïve, Mister Sloane. But I'd much rather be in danger on a ship than be kept prisoner back at home with that-that pig and his family."
"Lord Arlington would hardly treat you that badly," Sloane muttered, only to be silenced as Katrina shot him a deadpan glare.
"You and your sister… I swear I will go grey with the two of you." The selkie male sighed, rubbing his temple as he turned to face Jack "And YOU! You're letting her join the Pearl? Really?"
"It was either that or let Pegsy haunt me from beyond the grave." Jack shrugged as he slapped the side of his compass, hoping to shake the needle to where he wanted it to go. "Besides, she did say she had a cat. And we need a cat."
"Good grief," Sloane groaned in dismay, and Katrina felt her gut churn guiltily. Of all her father's clerks, Sloane was perhaps the kindest. His worry for her was a testament to his concern for her and his good heart.
"Mister Sloane," Katrina reached out to touch the selkie's arm "I am sorry for making you so worried. But…but I can't marry that-that creature. I can't do it. I-"
"I know," Sloane murmured, pinching his nose. "Believe me, I know Miss Katrina. But what you are doing…" he paused to look her in the eye, light green meeting grey-blue. "This is piracy. You cannot go back once you've crossed that line. Not even your father can protect you if you choose this path, no matter how much he tries to."
"I… I know." Katrina squeezed his arm. "But this is my life…my choice. I…I can't live a life chosen for me by someone else…not anymore."
Jack peeked up from his compass to watch the girl.
The little brat was good at tugging on the heartstrings. The big, round pleading eyes, the pursed lips…the way her hand gently touched Sloane's arm to placate him.
She'd be an absolute menace to any man who crossed her path when she came of age.
Beckett doesn't know what he let slip through his fingers, does he?
Jack sighed as Katrina and Sloane quietly turned to watch Gibbs and the boy with him interview the recruits approaching their table.
Only two of them had signed up so far. The rest of the men turned away after Gibbs refused to tell them where they were headed.
Well, Jack expected that. Times were tough, the EITC was getting antsy, and pirates wanted regular income from reliable sources that were out of the reach of any soldier.
Adventuring and wild chases were too dangerous for those seeking stability.
Well fine. Jack knew he would never get a hundred men onto the Pearl, but at least he could fill out his crew just enough for the task ahead.
"Mister Sloane!" He grunted, and Sloane looked up at him with narrowed eyes.
"Yes, Captain."
"Take this one and Jimmy back to the Pearl. Get them set up in Pegsy's room for the night."
"Aye, Captain." Sloane nodded, slightly relieved. At least Jack was taking her safety seriously. None of the crew would dare enter Peggy's nook without the Captain's permission. According to Marty, the last man who tried that a few months ago was nearly gutted like a fish by the selkie and her guardian.
Jack was known for being a more easygoing captain, but he made sure the few rules he had were followed to the letter.
"Come on, Miss Katrina." Sloane scooped Orion in his arms and hauled Katrina to her feet, only pausing so that the young girl could politely nod to Jack with all the demureness of a true lady.
"Thank you, Captain Sparrow."
"Miss Kitty," Jack nodded back, the glint in his eye betraying his amusement at her propriety. Guts and manipulation aside, she was a soft and dainty little thing.
She would have gotten eaten alive if she had stayed in a pit like this.
Jack watched with amusement as the young boy beside Gibbs scowled but agreed to quietly follow Sloane back to the ship, shooting wary glances at Katrina as he caught her eye.
"Oi! Who's this?" the lad grunted at Sloane.
"My name is Kitty Blake," Katrina answered primly, looking the boy up and down with just as calculating a stare. "And you are?"
"Jimmy. Jimmy Labelle. An' I wasn't talkin' to you!" Jimmy's lip curled as he matched her stance, doing his best to keep a straight face as he turned gingerly to face Sloane. "Who's she and what's she doin' with uncle Jack?"
"She is your new roommate and your fellow cabin boy. From now on, you two will be working together." Sloane looked between the two children, sizing one another up.
"Really? Her? A cabin boy?" Jimmy snorted, looking the girl up and down and taking her smooth hands and delicate frame. "She looks as scrawny as a chicken's leg."
"You're hardly one to talk." Katrina scoffed, taking in the boy's injuries. He looked in rough shape, and he had the gall to sneer down his nose at her? The cheek.
"Hey! Enough." Sloane cut across Jimmy wearily as he adjusted his grip on Orion. "It's getting late, so we should be headed back to the ship. You'll both share Peggy's nook so you better play nice."
"What?!" Jimmy and Katrina gaped aghast at the man.
"Share with him? But he's filthy-"
"Share? With her? She's…she's won't even last the-oi! Who you callin' filthy?"
"Hey! Stop that, both of you. This is the Captain's orders, so if you have a problem, I suggest taking it up with him!" Sloane steamrolled over the two adolescents as they glowered at each other with venom.
However, at the mention of Jack, Jimmy and Katrina both blanched and shut their mouths, though they still kept a close watch on one another as he steered them out of the tavern.
Good. Now that she's out of the way, maybe I can focus on fixing this damn thing. Jack's lips twisted and pursed as he turned his attention back to his compass, keeping an ear out for Gibbs, who was still going through recruits.
He winced as he glanced up and saw a dark skinned man with one leg and a gaunt face leering at Gibbs across the table. An ex-slave, Jack, mused as he noticed the brand burned into the man's cheek.
"Me 'ave one arm and a bum leg." The man grunted at Gibbs, who nodded politely and said:
"It's the crow's nest for you." He held out his hand and gestured to the roster the man filled out with shaky hands. "Next!"
"I know what I want! I know what I want!" Jack hissed at his compass as the needle swivelled in odd directions again. God's dammit why wouldn't this thing work properly?
"Ever since I was a little lad, I've wanted to sail the seas. Forever" An older man with the top of his grimy head balding said earnestly and Gibbs smiled as he once again gestured towards the roster.
"Sooner than ye think. Sign the roster."
"How we goin'?" Jack asked his Quartermaster, and Gibbs sighed.
"Includin' those four, that gives us…four." Gibbs looked cautiously at his captain. "So about that little lass-"
"I'll explain when we're back aboard the Pearl, mate." Jack grunted as he shook out his compass again "But to answer your next questions, yes, she is coming with us, and no, it is non-negotiable."
"Of course it is." Gibbs rolled his eyes and muttered something about bad luck and young women on ships even as he turned his attention to the next potential recruit.
"And what's your story?"
"My story…" A man's gruff voice snorted from somewhere high above. "It's exactly the same as your story just one chapter behind. I chased a man across the seven seas. The pursuit cost me my crew…my commission…and my life."
A grubby hand in a long, dark blue sleeve shot out and grabbed the bottle of rum set on the table by the roster.
Gibbs' welcoming expression fell as he beheld the face the bottle was lifted towards. It was rougher than he had ever seen it…the eyes had a haunted look about them and the powdered wig atop the man's head was scruffy and dirty from rough handling.
"…Commodore?!"
"Dammit Kitty, where are you?" Elizabeth hissed as she found herself buffeted out of the way by a drunken sailor who growled at her to watch her step, even as she slid away from him.
Barely two seconds, and she had lost sight of the young girl before she could even cross the threshold.
She's so young…Please don't let one of these miscreants lay a hand on her. The noblewoman cursed as she looked around for a head of brown curls half hidden beneath a dark bandanna.
While her young friend had done well to survive thus far on the Speedwell, this was Tortuga, the vile pirate port where men came to drown their sorrows in drink and women.
At least Elizabeth was passing for a boy with her slender frame and the hat covering her hair. But even at the tender age of thirteen, young Katrina was already the kind of beauty turning heads. Elizabeth did not doubt that many of the slimy men in this tavern would be groping all over that poor girl to turn tricks for them if they got their grubby paws on her.
Elizabeth knew she had a mission to find Will, but she did not think she could bear the guilt or shame of letting anything bad happen to that young girl. She was too pure and too innocent for this cesspit.
Elizabeth paused as she thought she saw two more miniature figures duck out of sight through a back door on the opposite side of the tavern. One of them was wearing the young girl's vest. But no sooner had she spotted them than she also saw another figure in blue approach a table nearby.
Half hidden behind a group of men, she paused to watch as what appeared to be a bedraggled, scruffy officer of the Crown stumbled towards the table, grumbling at a man with greying muttonchops and a friendly, familiar face.
"Gibbs." Elizabeth breathed in relief at the sight of the old sailor.
If Gibbs were here, Jack could not be far behind.
However, before Elizabeth could look around for the pirate captain, her eyes drifted over the officer again as he leaned down to snarl something at Gibbs.
Was it just her, or did that face under that scraggly beard and messy powdered wig look familiar?
"…James?"
Elizabeth tried pushing through the crowd for a closer look at her ex-fiance, but it was useless. Already, the man had gripped the edge of Gibbs' table and flipped it back with a snarl.
"James, no!" a woman's voice called in the distance, but her plea fell on deaf ears as James Norrington shouted loud enough to interrupt the small band of musicians currently performing their jig.
"So am I worthy to serve under Captain Jack Sparrow?" Then, with a swiftness Elizabeth had never seen in any inebriated man before, he flicked out a pistol from his belt and aimed it to his left. "Or should I just kill you now?"
Elizabeth froze as she saw the man's target. There, trying to sneak away in the gap between pillars, poorly hidden behind a decorative palm frond was none other than the one…the only…Jack Sparrow.
Elizabeth stared at the man.
He looked nearly the same as the last time she had seen him. Still as strange, awkward on dry land…still as unsubtle as an elephant on a child's swing.
There was silence as everyone in the tavern, wenches, sailors, and musicians included, turned to watch Jack carefully slide behind a nearby wooden pillar and peek out from behind it.
Yet even as his head poked out on either side, the muzzle of Norrington's gun followed him with remarkable steadiness despite the man's drunken state.
"You're hired." Jack smiled, only to falter as Norrington sneered at him coldly.
"Sorry, old habits and all that!"
"JAMES!" Elizabeth's cry was drowned out by two men reaching out to grapple the ex-commodore and point the gun skyward as his fingers pulled the trigger.
BANG!
The shot pierced the air, and Elizabeth winced as she heard the shattering of glass as the bullet ricocheted off the wrought iron chandelier hanging from the ceiling and pierced down straight into another patron's bottle, smashing all its contents all over the drunk.
"Bloody pirates." Elizabeth groaned as fights suddenly sprang into being around her.
It was almost as if a powder keg had been lit, as men and women in various states of inebriation all joined in the violence. Some were not even drunk at all, Elizabeth noticed as she drew a sword from another man's belt and held it up to defend herself from an oncoming attacker.
Then, to add to the cacophony, the band started playing again, the accordion and the violin making themselves heard from their corner over all the din.
With a growl of frustration, Elizabeth pushed through the fray, occasionally swatting at men with her sword, not landing a slice, merely shoving them aside as she fought to join Norrington, even as he punched a man and stole his bottle of rum.
He took a large swig, hardly noticing Elizabeth as she came to his aid and pushed away a man about to hew him down with a wide swing of a rusty cutlass.
The noblewoman winced as something hit her from above. She looked up in time to see some of the patrons on the upper levels throwing bits of foodstuffs and spraying drinks onto the brawling crowd below with loud, raucous laughter.
Disgusting pigs. She wiped what she hoped was custard from her face as she and Norrington were herded back towards the pillar Jack had once hidden behind.
However, the pirate captain was nowhere to be seen.
Damn that sly fox. Elizabeth sighed as Norrington snarled at their attackers.
"Come on, then! Who wants some?! " he sneered as the crowd began turning all its attention on him, the instigator of all the madness. "Form an orderly line, and I'll have you all one by one!"
For Christ's sake! Elizabeth rolled her eyes as she grabbed the bottle from the drunk man's hand and swiftly brought it in an arc on top of his hat.
There was a collective gasp from the crowd as Norrington dropped to the floor with a heavy thud. Some of the men closest to the ex-commadore looked vaguely disappointed and eyed Elizabeth with nasty eyes.
"I…I just wanted the pleasure of doin' that myself!" She called out quickly, and the people around her cheered jovially to her relief.
IT was not long before the tavern's barkeeper passed around fresh mugs of drinks while several men reached down to haul Norrington out the door.
Elizabeth followed swiftly, biting her lip as she wondered where these ruffians were taking their poor victim.
"Move it!" a woman's voice hissed as someone shoved past her.
Elizabeth was about to apologise on autopilot, but her voice fell away as she saw who had pushed ahead of her.
"Annamaria?" She frowned. However, the dark skinned, rough-spoken pirate woman hardly paid her any attention.
"Oi! Oi! Don't ye bloody dare ye bastards!" she shouted, only to get lost in the crowd as a large dark hand grabbed at her and shoved her aside.
Elizabeth followed, her brow furrowed as she was led to a nearby pig pen behind the Twelve Daggers. It was a filthy place, smelling of muck and excrement, but that did not stop the patrons from tossing Norrington face-first beside an enormous sow.
Elizabeth almost retched as she watched the drunk and concussed man struggle to turn himself over so he would not suffocate in the mud.
She rushed towards him quickly, nose wrinkling as she grabbed his shoulder and turned him over onto his side.
"James Norrington," She sighed heavily. "What has the world done to you?"
"…Elizabeth?" Norrington's eyes widened. "What? How?"
He struggled to turn onto his back, only to wince as a voice called out loudly.
"James!"
Elizabeth's head snapped just in time to see Annamaria dash into the pen, her hand pushing Elizabeth aside as she hauled Norrington into a sitting position.
Elizabeth watched, stunned, as she looked at the woman. Annamaria's usually scowling face was now a mask of worry and fear as she patted Norrington's filth-covered form up and down before reaching up to his head and inspecting it for damage.
"What were ye bloody thinkin'?" the pirate growled at Norrington with almost motherly tones. "Startin' a fight with Jack Sparrow of all people. Ye lucky yer weren't killed."
"Old habit." Norrington snorted, echoing his earlier sentiment.
Annamaria rolled her eyes, only to stiffen as she saw Elizabeth kneeling to the side where the crowd had once been jeering.
"You!"
Elizabeth almost reeled back from the viciousness of the woman's tone.
While she knew Annamaria was a tough nut to crack, she would have thought their previous adventure on the Black Pearl would have softened the woman up to her.
Instead, all Elizabeth found was a pair of brown eyes glaring down at her with rage, so seething, it almost burned.
"You've got some nerve showin' yer face around here!" Annamaria snarled but paused as she took in the other women's attire. "What are ye doin' here anyway? Shouldn't ye be in some fancy cell waitin' for ye whelp fiancé to come dashin' back to ye?"
"It's a long story," Elizabeth mumbled awkwardly.
"And Turner is at the crux of it, I have no doubt." Norrington snorted bitterly as he gingerly rose to his feet, leaning on Annamaria for support. "He was traipsing around here a couple of weeks ago, bold as brass."
"Did you speak to him? Did you find out where he went?" Elizabeth's eyes brightened only to pull back as Annamaria shot her a filthy look.
"Come on, Commodore, let's get ye to the tub."
"Got no time," Norrington muttered apologetically. "I put my name down to join Sparrow's crew before I-"
"Ye what?" Annamaria now turned her glower on him, though Elizabeth could see the expression was far softer for the man than it had been for her. "Are ye mad? Ye join a man's crew then attack him-"
"A lapse in judgment," Norrington mumbled with a cough, having the decency to look somewhat ashamed. "But I…I need to go on the Pearl Anna. Something stinks about this whole mess with Sparrow, and it is not the rum or the pigs."
"What do you mean?"
"I heard one of his crew talking to someone at the bar." Norrington grunted, pausing to right himself before continuing, "It seems like Turner has gotten your friend Miss Blake in worse trouble than Sparrow has led you to believe."
"Of course, he would get her mixed up in something messy," Annamaria sighed.
"Will has not done any such thing!" Elizabeth sucked in a deep breath, doing her best to ignore the sting of bitterness as the memory of that blasted journal flashed across her mind's eye. "If anything, from what I have seen, it seems to be the complete opposite-"
"Does it now?" Annamaria snarled at Elizabeth, brown eyes flashing, but Norrington stopped her by gently gripping her arm and shaking his head.
The pirate woman sighed. She supposed Norrington was right. This was hardly the time to let fly at the prissy noblewoman, no matter how much she wanted to scratch her eyes out.
"Fine. We'll head to the Pearl, but you're getting a dunk first! No! Don't argue, Commodore! I ain't gonna be seen walkin' with you while you're stinkin' like a sewer."
Elizabeth watched from a distance as Annamaria took Norrington to a clean-ish wall in an alleyway beside the Twelve Daggers and splashed him with buckets of water. It would not get him as clean as a bath and a fresh launder of clothes, but it did take off most of the surface muck and dilute the putrid smell to tolerable levels. She even tossed the remains of Norrington's wig into a nearby barrel, which had been repurposed for waste disposal for rancid food, all the while muttering something about lice as the man quickly took a bucket and splashed it over his head to wash out any remaining mud from his hair.
It struck Elizabeth that she had never seen the ex-Commodore without his wig before. She knew he had brown hair from his beard and eyebrows, but somehow, taking his wig off and seeing him with his hair loose about his shoulders and his beard all scruffy was eerie. It made him seem more human and less like the model toy soldiers standing in neat lines waiting for the following order.
She almost felt guilty for the comparison, but that was all the military men had been to her. Duplicates all standing in neat rows, doing their chores with precision and dedication. She had been vaguely aware they must have had lives outside their duties to their regiments, but somehow it was tough to imagine Norrington as being anything but his position. He had devoted his entire life to the military. While she had seen him at social gatherings and had been escorted by him while he was trying to court her, he had always conducted himself with that same stiff decorum of the perfect officer and always kept so prim and proper.
Even when she had dissolved their engagement, he had done his best to stay as professional and cold as possible…except for that disaster at the engagement party. Elizabeth had always wondered if that was not just his alcohol talking. Alcohol had the effect of robbing most men of their senses.
At least that was what she had thought.
Now she was not so sure.
She was distracted as she overheard Norrington muttering to Annamaria.
"Are you sure? What about your family? Won't they be worried if you leave with the Pearl?"
"They always worry." Annamaria sighed. "But Peggy's my friend. And if Jack or stupid Turner have gotten her in trouble again, she will need the help she can get."
Oh great. I've got more companions. And she dares think that Will is the troublemaker in all this?
Elizabeth looked up to the heavens and sighed.
Oh God, what have I gotten myself into now?
These Beckett girls…how do they keep finding me? Is it my scent? Does something about it make them home in on me from miles away? What about me made them both flock towards me like seagulls to breadcrumbs?
Jack sighed as he sauntered down the pier towards the gangplank of his beloved Pearl.
Though he had not recruited as many people as he would have liked, it had been a fascinating evening.
Who'd have thought it? Cutler Beckett's very own precious little princess is in my clutches. He smirked as he watched Gibbs bristle and grumble by his side.
Jack had just told the older sailor about their most recent addition to their crew, and it had thrown him for a loop and a half.
"Ye can't be serious, Jack? Pegsy's sister aboard our ship?" Gibbs hissed when he had finally found his voice.
"Aye, Mister Gibbs. So it would seem."
"But she's-" Gibbs sucked in a breath to calm himself and lower his voice to a whisper "But she's Cutler Beckett's daughter."
"So is Pegsy."
"Yes, but Peggy is illegitimate. This one's his heir. If we're caught with her aboard, it could bring down the EITC fleet on all our heads."
"Yes, but only if we kill her or she dies while in our care, Mister Gibbs," Jack raised a finger to silence the man "So long as no hair on that pretty head of hers is harmed, Beckett cannot do diddly squat to us, not if he wants her back in one piece. And we will keep her safe and sound in one piece, Kapeesh?"
"I can't look out for her, Jack." Gibbs sighed, shaking his head, "Keepin' an eye out for Peggy is one thing. She at least knows how to use a blade and look after herself. But I ain't got the time ter babysit the little lass and teach her the ropes."
"An' ye won't have to." Jack patted the quartermaster on the shoulder. "I already gave her to Sloane and Jimmy to look after."
"Ahh! Good idea." Gibbs nodded approvingly "That'll keep Jimmy out of some mischief at least…and keep that Sloane fellow busy. Did ye see him talkin' with that man at the bar?"
"Oh, aye. I saw that." Jack nodded grimly. "But I wouldn' be worrying about him just yet. He came here for Pegsy. He can't make moves without helpin' us get her back first."
"I hope so." Gibbs grimaced.
"Captain Sparrow!" a voice called behind their backs, and Jack turned back with a smirk as he spotted a young lad in his teens next to the taller, still grubby form of the former Commodore striding after them with the familiar form of Annamaria helping him keep balance.
"Come ter join me crew lad? Welcome aboard. Oh Anna! Welcome back! " he added brightly as he met Annamaria's eyes.
However, before Annamaria could open her mouth, the lad at the front called out:
"I'm here to find the man I love!"
What the? Jack stiffened, exchanging a confused look with a slightly disturbed Gibbs as they stopped short.
Jack wasn't against the idea of a bit of buggery with a charming fellow occasionally after being pent up for many months on long voyages. It happened often between men at sea, more often than most non-sailors thought. After all, women were not allowed on most ships, so a man could usually only find companionship with himself or another man.
However, it had been a long time since Jack had indulged himself with another male, since he had frequently visited Tortuga and could avail himself regularly of the services of very sumptuous women.
Jack had no recollection of who this lad was. Maybe he had slept with him and just didn't remember it because he was drunk. Whatever the case was, he hoped that Gibbs could at least send him packing. The pirate captain had enough to worry about with possible ex-lovers hunting his hide.
"I'm deeply flattered, son, but my first and only love is the sea." He quietly signalled to Gibbs to heave-ho the lad into the drink, only to pause as the voice came closer and took on a very familiar posh tone.
"Meaning William Turner, Captain Sparrow."
Jack froze.
He knew that voice…he knew it, and it was making his stomach jolt unpleasantly.
You've got to be kidding me.
And sure as eggs, he spun around and found himself face to face with the pale, pouty face of Elizabeth Swann. The last time he had seen her pretty face had been six months ago at his failed hanging. She had looked quite fetching in that golden dress, her hair all fancy and her lovely face all sweet, as she mooned over that dastardly whelp.
Seeing her in these rough boys' clothes with a shoddy black hat covering her fair head of hair was odd.
"Hide the rum." Jack hissed at Gibbs, quickly shoving the bottle he had nabbed from the Twelve Daggers into his quartermaster's hands before turning to Elizabeth and leering at her, "You know these clothes do not flatter you at all, it should be a dress or nothing. And I happen to have no dress in my cabin."
That was a bald-faced lie, of course. Since Peggy had returned to his service, Jack had kept a couple of dresses for her in his cabin. They weren't too fancy, but she did wear them sometimes when they had shore leave and had come in handy for a couple of his schemes.
But there was no way in the darkest pits of hell, Jack was ever letting this devious rum-burning she-demon touch any of them. She already stole his poor cabin girl's love; she didn't deserve to take her belongings too.
"Jack." Elizabeth grimaced in exasperation, "I know Will followed Peggy to come to find you. Where is he?"
Should have known all she'd care about is that whelp. Jack sighed, letting his face fall oh-so-sadly as he approached the noblewoman, hoping she would not pick up on the coldness in his eyes.
"Darling," He said softly, taking a cautious step towards her "I am truly unhappy to have to tell you this, but…through an unfortunate and entirely unforeseeable series of circumstances that have nothing whatsoever to do with me-"
Annamaria and Norrington both snorted behind Elizabeth's back, and Jack ignored them, though he could not help but wonder when those two had ever been so chummy.
"-Poor Will has been press-ganged into Davy Jones's crew."
"Davy Jones?" Elizabeth frowned in confusion.
"Oh, please!" Norrington rolled his eyes. "The captain of the Flying Dutchman?"
"Jack ye can't be serious?" Annamaria folded her arms. "I know the curse at the Isla De Muerta was real, but that's the Devil of the Deep yer talkin' about."
"Wish I could be Anna." Jack sighed, knowing he had made a mistake as the pirate woman's eyes sharpened like daggers. Oh no. Now she knew something weird was happening, and she would keep hounding him until he gave her the answers. And she had her satchel too. Brilliant. There would be no getting rid of her now.
"Fine, you can come with if ye want. As for you, you look bloody awful, what are you doin' here?" Jack narrowed his eyes at Norrington.
The man indeed looked awful. He looked like a bedraggled wet cat that had not been bathed properly and still reeked of alcohol and pigs.
"You hired me." Norrington sneered back at him, hardly phased, "I can't help it if your standards are lax."
"You smell funny." Jack shot back, unable to help himself.
"Jack!" Elizabeth cut across him, firmly grabbing his attention once more "All I want is to find Will."
Of course it is. That's all you care about, isn't it? So single-minded-
Jack paused mid-thought; his eyes fixed on the compass tied to his belt.
Single-minded…
Hmm…could it be…
"Are you certain?" Jack peered at Elizabeth curiously. "Is that what you really want most?"
"Of course?" Elizabeth frowned.
"Because," He muttered, steering the noblewoman carefully away by the shoulder. "I would think you'd want to find a way to save Will, most."
"And you'd have a way of doing that?"
"Well…" Jack pressed his fingers together "There is a chest-"
"Oh dear-" Norrington hissed, but Annamaria put a hand to silence him.
"Shh!" She could see the gears turning in Jack's devious head. He had a plan—a plan that this silly noblewoman had walked straight into—a plan that could get them what they wanted and screw over everyone if they got it wrong.
Her suspicions were confirmed when Jack allowed himself a small smirk in her direction before quickly schooling himself and continuing in those same soft, conspiratorial tones:
"A chest of unknown size and origin,"
"What contains the still beatin' heart of Davy Jones!" a rough voice hissed, forcing Jack and Elizabeth to sidle out of the way as Pintel and Ragetti struggled past them with a heavy crate in their arms. As they passed Elizabeth, Ragetti crudely mimed ripping his heart from his chest and it pulsating in his hand, much to her horror and disgust.
"And whoever possesses that chest-" Jack said before she could comment on the gruesome information, "Possesses the leverage to command Jones to do whatever it is he or she wants, including, saving brave William from his grim fate. And Pegsy," he added, enjoying the way Elizabeth's face tightened at the mention of the Selkie's name "Mustn't forget my dear Pegsy now…Should we?"
Something sharpened in Elizabeth's eye, and Jack felt his grin drop slightly. He knew there must have been some awkwardness between the two women after Will's foolishness, but Elizabeth had been on somewhat alright terms with Peggy on their last parting.
Yet now…now there was something there…an anger, a bitterness in the noblewoman's eyes that had never been there before.
Something had happened; he was sure of it. Something had happened, or was Elizabeth angry that Will had left her behind to run after Peggy?
Whatever it was, Jack would be sure to keep an eye on it. This woman had already proven ruthless in getting what she wanted from him and the Commodore. But Jack had worked far too hard to get his beloved Pearl back, and he would not let this scorned noblewoman's feelings fester into something that could take it all away from him.
"You don't actually believe him, do you?" Norrington scoffed, though Annamaria stayed silent.
Good. He needed this to work, or they'd all be fried like bacon.
Jack turned back to Elizabeth, feeling a lot calmer. He noticed that the anger in her eyes had faded slightly as she considered his words carefully.
"How would we find it?" She asked after a short pause.
"With this." Jack plucked his compass from his belt and held it up to the light of the torches tied to the pier. "My compass…is unique." He snapped it open and shut quickly in playful fashion, ignoring Norrington as he heaved a sigh of exasperation.
"By 'Unique' here having the meaning of 'broken'?"
"True enough." Jack leaned in and smirked, "This compass does not point North."
"Then what does it point to?" Elizabeth tilted her head curiously.
Jack's lips curled even wider.
"It points to the thing you want most in this world."
"Oh, Jack," Elizabeth shook her head, but Jack could see the desperation leaking out of every pore as her gaze flickered between his face and the compass in his hands. "Are you…Are you telling the truth?"
Hook…
"Every word, love." Jack nodded as he carefully took one of her hands and placed the compass into her waiting palm.
Line…
"And what you want most in this world is to find the chest of Davy Jones, is it not?"
"To save Will!"
and sinker…
"By findin' the chest of Davy Jones." He quickly opened the lid of his compass and scuttled off, leaving the noblewoman to stare at the swivelling needle with wide eyes.
Yet before Jack could get to safety, Annamaria strode over and grabbed him by the arm.
"Davy Jones? Really Jack? Really? You aren't pullin' the other one with bells on? Last time Peggy was here, she was real twitchy and mopey and desperate to find ye. Now yer back here with the Pearl without her, tellin' me she's on another ship with Turner?"
"Shh! Quiet would ye. Don' want those two lubbers gettin' in our hairs," Jack grunted quietly, turning her so that their backs faced Norrington's suspicious gaze. "Look, I know this looks bad, but I need ye to trust me. I'll tell ye more when we get aboard a'right. This ain't for others' ears."
"Fine." Annamaria sighed. "Fine. I'll trust ye for now. But ye will tell me what's goin' on."
"I will, I will!" Jack shrugged and then eyed the satchel on her shoulders. "Wait. What about your ma and pa?"
"They'll be fine," Anna waved him off. Besides, all the little 'uns are getting big enough, so they won't need me around much anymore."
"Good. Then report to Mister Gibbs, there's a girl."
Jack turned back to look at Elizabeth. She was still staring at the compass in her hand, but to his delight, Jack could see that it was not swivelling around like a pendulum.
No.
Its needle was pointing stolidly in a single direction.
Perfect.
He quickly ducked so he could slowly rise and peer over the edge of the compass.
Sure as eggs. The needle was fixed in one position and was not moving.
Jack could have whooped in victory, but instead chose to call out to his quartermaster.
"Mister Gibbs!"
"Cap'in?"
"We have our heading."
"FINALLY!" Gibbs cried out in joy, his smile wide and eager as he turned to shout at the men on the Black Pearl's deck, "Cast off those lines! Weigh anchor and crowd that canvas!"
"Miss Swann." Jack gestured gentlemanly for Elizabeth to walk ahead of him onto his ship while Pintel and Ragetti shoved a milking she-goat into Norrington's arms to carry.
"Welcome to the crew, former Commodore!"
"Anna!" Jack called to Annamaria as he reached the deck, gesturing to her to come to him.
"Look Pegsy's room is occupied so yer gonna have te share yer bunk with this one." He jerked his thumb at Elizabeth standing by the railing and trying to keep out of the men's way "Think ye can handle it? Ye'll need to behave yourself-"
"Only if she does." Annamaria snarled but quickly pulled herself together. "Fine, I'll bunk with her. But I won't be babysittin' her, though."
"Fair enough." Jack sighed in relief as Annamaria grumbled under her breath and stalked off to greet Gibbs, who welcomed her with a mixture of warmth, familiarity and exhaustion.
She was one of the few, besides Peggy and Gibbs, who could easily tell when Jack was lying, and right now, she knew he was not. Jack was grateful for this. It was bad enough that some of the sailors on his ship did not trust him after Peggy's "betrayal"; he needed all the allies he could get, and Annamaria was one of the best he could hope for. Her name carried weight, as did her family's standing in Tortuga.
"Hang on a moment?" Annamaria frowned suddenly "Why is Peggy's nook taken? She ain't even here?"
"Yeah, we lettin' Jimmy use it while he recovers." Gibbs grunted as he gestured to men to show them where to put a few barrels "Him and the lass."
"Lass? You've got another woman on the ship?" Annamaria frowned.
"Aye. And she's…" Jack whispered the rest into Annamaria's ear.
The pirate's eyes widened as her mouth opened into a shout that had all the men aboard the Black Pearl leap back in alarm.
"PEGGY'S SISTER?!"
Oh Anna. Jack almost facepalmed.
As good a sailor as she was, she had no subtlety whatsoever.
This is going to be a very long voyage.
Notes:
And there we have it. Chapter 29 is up, and Elizabeth and Katrina have finally found Jack, and now everyone knows Peggy has a sister (nice going, Anna)
As you have noticed, there has been some slight deviation from the source material since I included Annamaria rejoining the Black Pearl. I figured Annamaria's story would change after Peggy intervened and put Norrington in her path. I also just kind of enjoy writing both her and Norrington. They're pretty interesting, along with Elizabeth.
As for Katrina and Jack, I'm hoping that wasn't too OOC for Jack in this story. After all, he did take in Peggy when she was far younger than her sister. Also, I would not put it past him to keep hold of the legitimate daughter of his hated enemy, if only because he can use her to his advantage later.
Anyways, hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and keep reading, following, faving and reviewing for more.
Cheers
FuzzyBeta
Chapter 29: A Bag of Cats
Summary:
"there's a beast does the bidding of Davy Jones. A fearsome creature with giant tentacles that'll suction your face clean off, and drag an entire ship down to the crushing darkness."
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
"Blimey, Kat. You call that scrubbin'? I've seen men with no arms scrub harder than that!"
"That's probably because those men are good for nothing but scrubbing! I am a lady. I never had to scrub anything until I left home."
"No, you just had to sit there and look pretty."
"At least I look pretty and not like a sick baby bird that fell out of the nest."
"Hey! I got these scars fair and square-"
"Enough chatter, you two! Keep scrubbing!" Ronan Sloane barked, his voice carrying across the deck of the Black Pearl.
He was sitting on a barrel, half-dressed in just his pants and a vest with no shoes and sewing a tear in one of his shirts. By his feet knelt Jimmy Labelle and Katrina Beckett. Jimmy was polishing Sloane's boots with one hand, his injured arm still in its sling, while Katrina was on all fours scrubbing the wooden boards with as much strength as her scrawny, delicate arms could muster.
She scowled as Jimmy silently began pulling disgusting faces at her, hoping to goad her into breaking the silence and earning another reprimand.
But Sloane was not having any of that.
"Jimmy, stop with the faces."
"She started it", Jimmy mumbled mutinously under his breath, and Katrina rolled her eyes.
"I started no such thing." She sniffed haughtily, tossing back a stray curl that had gotten free of her pigtails "I do not know how you were raised, but where I come from, ladies do not start fights-"
"Tch! No kidding"
"-But they can finish them."
"Miss Katrina!" Sloane clipped warningly as both youths snarled at one another from their spots like a pair of small wolverines bristling for a scrap.
Around the small group, the crew of the Black Pearl all sniggered or smirked in amusement.
"Oh yeah. She's Peggy's sister, alright." Marty snorted at Annamaria, who was holding the white cat Orion and instructing sailors on reorganising some of the supplies that had not been put away properly on deck. At the same time, her charge, Norrington, was scrubbing another section of the deck, keeping his ears pricked for anything valuable.
He still could not believe Peggy Blake had a younger sister. She had always maintained that she was an orphan during her stay in Port Royal, and despite being a pirate, he could tell she was not a woman naturally prone to keeping such a massive lie.
But the real kicker had been discovering that the young woman who had given him both the slip and a second chance was the daughter of one of the most powerful men in the British Empire.
Elizabeth had been only too glad to confide in him her shock at the discovery of Peggy's parentage and Katrina's true identity: shock and a surprising amount of anger.
Well, Norrington supposed Elizabeth had every right to be angry since Peggy and Katrina's father was the very man who held the life of her father and fiancé in the balance. But from what Norrington had seen of both Beckett sisters, neither of them wanted to follow in their father's footsteps, nor were they willing to follow his plans.
Indeed, both seemed very intent on running from that path.
Yet whenever Peggy's name had passed through Elizabeth's lips, Norrington had seen a flash of resentment in his old fiancée's eyes.
The last he had seen of Elizabeth, she had been quite unbothered by any mention of the red-haired washerwoman. Indeed, she had been very supportive and consoling to her fiancé Will whenever he wallowed about missing her. So what had Peggy done to Elizabeth in the short time they had been reunited to have ignited such foul feelings?
And as Norrington observed the two children on the opposite side of the deck, so too was he being watched by a pair of kohl-lined brown eyes from the Quarter Deck.
Jack Sparrow's gaze narrowed as he surveyed his crew.
So far, so good.
Sloane had his eyes on Jimmy and Katrina, keeping them out from under everyone's feet.
Normally, Jack would have palmed them off to the cook downstairs below deck. However, after Annamaria's blunder blowing Katrina's cover the night before, Jack was not leaving anything up to chance.
Although most of his original crew had been accepting of Peggy's situation, there were still some murmurs from those outside Jack's inner circle about her allegiances. The last thing he wanted was for her sister, aka his best bargaining chip against the East India Trading Company, to be killed by vengeful pirates.
Also that damned Commodore had wormed his way onto his ship along with Elizabeth Swann. Jack would not put it past the pouty Governor's daughter or that military man not to whisk "sweet" and "innocent" Katrina Beckett back to her father for a handsome reward.
Ha, that child was anything but sweet or innocent. She was just as hard-headed and conniving as her father, only she had a pretty face she could use to get her way. Yet another reason, Jack would have to be careful, keeping an eye on the youngest Beckett daughter.
Peggy was gorgeous, it was true, but she had learned to hold herself with an air of toughness, making sure every crew member on board would see her fight so they knew not to mess with her. Katrina had never even touched a sword or made a fist to punch anyone in her life.
Hence why Jack was now putting her under the watchful eye of his nephew, Jimmy.
Jimmy was young and still thought girls were icky, though Jack knew that would change in a couple of years, if the boy were anything like the other men in their family. Still, it was the safest option for the time being.
Jack had then put Annamaria in charge of keeping a more subtle watch on Ex-Commodore Norrington. Despite her blunder from the previous night, Annamaria seemed to have earned a soft spot in Norrington's eye, and Jack would be a fool not to take advantage of it and bring that man under his thumb.
He still could not believe Peggy had vouched for Norrington or tried to make amends with him. She was a pirate, and Norrington was a man in service to the Crown. He would have happily clapped her in irons alongside Jack and let her hang six months ago.
Then again, maybe she felt sorry for the bloke. After all, both of them had their hearts broken by the same people.
Foolish girl. Too soft for yer own good sometimes.
Jack sighed to himself as he glanced around the deck for a sign of blonde hair.
He was quick to find it moving swiftly towards him, its owner's brown eyes sharp and determined to get to him.
Jack groaned.
He had been hoping to avoid running into Elizabeth Swann at all costs, if possible. Yes, she had his compass and was his best bet at finding that damned chest, but outside that, there was no reason for her to pester him with her troubles.
Jack had had enough of that from her dear beloved Will Turner.
The two selfish brats. Would they never give him any peace?
Jack would not deny feeling slightly satisfied when he heard the noblewoman complain softly to him that morning about not being able to sleep in a proper bed. When Jack had offered her his bed in exchange for his magnificent, unclothed company, she had promptly shut those pouty lips of hers like a clam, her cheeks blotching in distaste.
Usually, Jack would have felt insulted at the expression of disgust. Still, if Elizabeth thought she could waltz in and take over any of Peggy's space after taking her beau and dooming her to die of a broken heart, then she could go kick rocks at the bottom of the ocean for all he cared.
Of course, if Elizabeth ever changed her mind and agreed to sleep with him, he would not object. She was a beautiful woman, and besides, it would be very fitting if he were to toy with her feelings and then dump her high and dry—a nice taste of her own bitter medicine for her to swallow and choke on, as well as a friendly reminder for Dear William of who held all the cards.
Yet even as Jack tried to amuse himself with the thought of the bewildered whelp walking in on him bedding his fiancée, he found himself wondering if it would have any effect on the younger man.
Now that Jack thought hard, after leaving Tia Dalma's, he had not even heard Will bring up Elizabeth once in conversation. If she was talked about, it was only because Jack or Gibbs had brought her up, and Will would quickly wave the matter off.
"She has her father to protect her, she will be safe" The blacksmith would say, almost dismissively.
Yet whenever Peggy would come up in conversation, or if she were spotted on deck, a spark seemed to ignite in Will's eyes. One Jack had only ever seen once before…in the face of old Bootstrap Bill whenever he had spoken of his beloved Katherine.
Here we go. Just like your precious William. So long as you get what you want, you don't care who you disrupt.
Jack rolled his eyes as he purposefully steered himself towards Gibbs and began asking him about the state of the ship, before Elizabeth could reach him.
However, his pointed attempt to ice the noblewoman out backfired when she strode up to both men undeterred and stubborn.
"Jack! Jack, I need to talk with you!"
"Later, darlin', I'm a little busy as you can see," Jack grunted.
"This is important. If we don't talk now, then when?" Elizabeth scowled, and Jack shrugged.
"Whenever I have time," he tried turning back to Gibbs, only to find a slender hand turn him back around before another hand from the same woman shoved something leatherbound into his grip.
"Fine, I'll bite," he said, rolling his eyes as he looked down at the leather wrappings. Although it had recently experienced minor wear and tear, it was pretty thick and of outstanding quality. In one corner, he could see the familiar gold embossed signature of the EITC twinkling in the Caribbean sunlight.
"What's this then?" He grunted as he untied the wrappings and carefully tried to open them, only for a piece of folded paper to slip out.
"Got it!" Gibbs hissed as he caught the scrap before it could hit the oily deck.
Elizabeth cursed as she recognised the page at once, but before she could snatch it away, Gibbs opened it for him and Jack to have a look at.
Great…just what I bloody needed. Elizabeth bit her lip as she did her best to squash down the burning anger churning in her gut as the sketch of a woman's freckled face and curly head of hair smiled out from the page at the two astonished pirates.
"Blimey. That's a good likeness. Looks just like 'er." Gibbs whistled under his breath, "Look, it's even got the birthmark behind the ear."
"Hmm…sure does." Jack mused, glancing sidelong at Elizabeth's stiff expression and then back to the writing scrawled at the bottom of the page.
"My Peggy," he mouthed, his smirk widening with glee as he recognised the handwriting and noticed the date.
So the Whelp is doing a fine job of ruining his life without my assistance. Tch! No wonder Lizzy is so vexed.
"Mister Gibbs."
"Aye, Cap'in?"
"When we're done out here, put this in my cabin and see if you can find anything to frame it."
"Frame it?" Elizabeth's nostrils flared, cheeks flushing even redder in anger.
"It's a nice picture." Jack shrugged, oh-so-nonchalantly, though his brown eyes twinkled wickedly "An' Pegsy is a pretty lass. It'll look good in my quarters. I'm thinking…" He paused for dramatic effect, enjoying the way the vein noblewoman's neck ticked with anger "I'll hang it above the desk. Then everyone can see it as they walk in and be greeted by her pretty face!"
And maybe it'll be enough to keep 'dear Lizzy' out of my hair for a bit. Jack chuckled in the privacy of his head as he turned innocently back to the rest of the papers Elizabeth had so 'graciously' bestowed upon him.
"Let's see 'ere. What 'ave we got. Ahh! A letter for dear William-"
"That's private!" Elizabeth snatched the folded paper from Jack before he could break the seal. "I was tasked with giving it to him for his eyes only."
"An' ye never thought to look inside for yerself?" Jack quirked a brow at her, and she scowled.
"No. That would be highly improper and rude. Besides, I'm sure he'll tell me what it contains once he's read it."
"Hmm, sure he will." Jack snorted, lips pursing as he read through the final document. "What's this? Duh-duh-duh…letters of Marque-"
"Wait Cap'in! Look!" Gibbs quickly pointed to the bottom of the document, where a very familiar hand had scrawled a signature that was also very familiar.
Jack felt his innards stiffen at the sight of it. It had been nearly thirteen years since he had first seen that name on paper. Of course, he had heard it being mentioned a lot in recent days, especially by his cabin girl and her sneaky little sister.
But to see the name in ink, the same as it was all those years ago when he had first signed that doomed slip of paper…
"Beckett!" Gibbs hissed, the quartermaster's venom echoing what Jack felt in his heart.
"Yes, they're signed." Elizabeth smiled in relief as if this were something to be glad of. "Lord Cutler Beckett of the East India Trading Company."
"Blaaagh!" Jack pulled a face as Gibbs's frown tightened.
"Will was workin' for Beckett too and never said a word."
"Aggh." Jack grimaced as he gripped his forearm. He could already feel the "P" brand on his skin tingling painfully at the memory of the man. Good Lord, just when he thought he had a solution, something else just HAD to pop up and ruin his morning.
"Becket wants the compass." Gibbs looked up at him with worried eyes. "Only one reason for that."
"Of course." Jack muttered, "He wants the chest."
"Yes, he…he did say something about a chest." Elizabeth nodded, remembering the man's strange cryptic words from the night of her escape. The cold detachment in his voice, the almost smug sneer on his face.
"If the Company controls the chest, they control the sea." Gibbs looked at Jack, who nodded, his face uncharacteristically grave.
"A truly discomforting notion, love."
"And BAD!" Gibbs almost spat in frustration. "Bad for every mother's son what calls himself a pirate." He looked fretfully up at the sails, and Jack could see the panic brewing in the older sailor's eyes.
"Mister Gibbs, I'll be takin' that." Jack quickly took the picture of Peggy from Gibbs, who nodded and continued to look up at the sails.
"You do that Cap'in. I think there's a bit more speed to be coaxed from these sails. BRACE THE FOREYARD!" the Quartermaster shouted as he rushed off to another section of the deck.
Before Elizabeth could call after him, she found her path blocked by Jack, who was peering down at her through suspicious, narrowed eyes.
"Might I enquire as to how you came by these?" He asked as he began stalking across the deck, Elizabeth quickly stepping back as she tried to regain her composure. Something cold had taken over the usually flippant pirate's eyes, and it was deeply concerning.
"Pursuasion." She snorted.
"Friendly?" Jack quirked a brow, and she scowled.
"Decidedly not."
"Will strikes a deal for these and upholds it with honour, yet you were the one standing here with the prize." Jack sneered, holding up the papers again to read them out to her: "Full pardon, Commission as a privateer on behalf of England and the East India Trading Company."
He scoffed and slid the papers into his jacket pocket along with Peggy's picture.
"As if I could be bought for such a low price."
"Jack, the letters, give them back!" Elizabeth rushed after him before he could stride away, and Jack grinned.
Oh, he could smell her desperation from here. Foolish woman, did she think that just because he saved her life once, they were chums? Did she think he had forgotten about all that precious rum she had burned away?
"No." He murmured, smirk widening as she almost collided with his shoulder from behind, "Pursuade me."
"You do know Will taught me how to handle a sword?" Elizabeth hissed in his ear, and Jack chuckled.
"Aye, and do you know who taught him how to handle his precious sword? Hmm? It was dear Pegsy. And do you know who taught her, love? Me." He waggled an eyebrow at the noblewoman as he turned to face her, enjoying the way she bristled at the mention of the selkie's name. Oh, how delicious it was to watch her squirm so under his words.
"So...As I was saying…" he hissed, leaning into her personal space and lowering his voice, he knew the wenches just loved "Pursuade me"
There was a silence as Elizabeth opened and shut her mouth like a confused goldfish before huffing and storming off away from him.
Silly woman.
Jack scoffed softly to himself, only to stiffen as he caught sight of Annamaria striding his way, a stormy expression on her face.
Oh god. What was it this time?
"You, me. We need to talk. Now!" The pirate woman muttered as she came level with him, her brown eyes sharp and cold.
Jack sighed.
This was not his morning was it?
Elizabeth huffed as she watched Annamaria steer Jack forcibly towards his cabin. She was not sure what the other woman had to talk to Jack about but it seemed serious enough that Jack did not smirk or give her one of his charming smiles like he had just done to Elizabeth herself.
"Like I said. Persuade me."
Elizabeth sucked in a deep soothing breath as she felt her cheeks burn, and she knew it was not because of the Caribbean sun.
She knew Jack was a knave, but not even she could deny he was charming in that impish sort of way. And worse still, he knew it…and learned how to milk it for all that it was worth.
That damned man. That conniving son of a jackal. What is he up to?
She bit her lip as she wrung her hands. She could not get a grip on the man. One moment, he was avoiding her and making very pointed jabs about Peggy to her face to get a rise out of her, then he was pushing himself into her space and trying to flirt with her?
Why was it push and pull with him?
Why was it hot or cold?
What was his deal?
What was he hoping to achieve? Was he toying with her out of petty vindictiveness?
Was it actual affection, or was it something more insidious?
Did he want her to abandon Will and fool around with him?
The thudding of booted feet on wood announced the arrival of someone by her side.
Elizabeth glanced sideways and stiffened as she saw Norrington casually lean against the railing, stretching out his back and his legs with audible cracks.
"It's a curious thing," he drawled, smirking as she desperately tried straightening up and composing herself on autopilot. "There was a time I would have given anything to have you look like that while thinking about me."
"I don't know what you mean." Elizabeth scowled, cursing her darkening cheeks as her ex-fiance chuckled at her.
"Oh, I think you do."
"Oh, don't be absurd!" She spat, folding her arms tight across her chest "I trust him, that's all."
"Of course." Norrington snorted as he sauntered away from her, but not before turning back and giving her one last smirk "So you never wondered how your latest fiancé ended up on the Flying Dutchman in the first place?"
Elizabeth opened her mouth to retort, but already the man was walking away from her, shaking his head in amusement.
Men
Elizabeth huffed as she turned her head up to the sky.
Oh, Father, I do hope you're all right.
Governor Weatherby Swann stared at the man before the large map painted on the wall.
The headquarters of the East India Trading Company was almost complete in its renovations and already looked far grander and more luxurious than any of his estates. Luxurious tapestries and carpets lining floors and walls, fine pottery on stands, paintings from the most talented artists…
If Governor Swann did not know any better, he would have thought he was standing in the middle of the neatest treasure horde.
It did not help that the Lord before him was holding one of the finest swords in Port Royal and examining its blade with a critical, sharp, grey-blue eye.
Will Turner truly had crafted a beautiful piece, not just decorative but sharp and worthy of the skill of the ex-Commodore that had once wielded it.
To think it would end up in the hands of this smooth-talking demon dressed in fine silk was almost enough to make Governor Swann's blood boil. He could only thank his lucky stars that its sharp edge was not pointed at his daughter, who was hopefully far, far away from this mess.
"There's something to knowing the exact shape of the world and one's place in it. Don't you agree?" Lord Cutler Beckett said, peering at the governor down the length of the weapon in his hands.
"I assure you, these are not necessary", Governor Swann held up his manacled hands, hoping to God that Beckett would ignore how much they were shaking.
Alas, the Governor's prayers went unanswered, for Beckett looked almightily pleased at the sight of him wigless, sweaty and chained like a criminal.
"I thought you would be interested in the whereabouts of your daughter," the man said, and Governor Swann's chest tightened, though from hope or fear he could not tell.
"You have news of her?"
"She was most recently seen on the island of Tortuga and then left in the company of a known pirate, Jack Sparrow. And other fugitives from justice." The scar-faced man, whom Governor Swann had come to know as Mister Mercer, drawled from where he was examining the eyepiece of a newly acquired telescope that had been delivered to Lord Becket just that afternoon. How the man had sailed so quickly from that horrid pirate port to Port Royal was beyond anyone's guess, but Governor Swann had to admit that he was efficient at his job.
What an awful creature. The Governor shivered and quickly turned away to avoid meeting Mercer's gaze. It was almost like looking into the eyes of a snake that wanted to eat you whole.
"Justice." He scoffed as he tried to mask his fear "Hardly."
"-including the previous owner of this sword, I believe." Beckett ignored his captive's distaste as he sheathed the sword in his hands with a quiet snap before returning it to its wooden, velvet-lined box. "Our ships are in pursuit. And once my dear, sweet Katrina is returned to the safety of my men, justice will be dispensed by cannonade and cutlass, and all manner of remorseless pieces of metal." There was a click as he shut the box and flipped the latches shut, his gaze burning like the sun, though his face was cold as ice. "I personally find it distasteful to even contemplate the horror facing all those on board."
He turned his eyes upon Governor Swann, who was suddenly struck by the sharpness of those grey-blue eyes, just like Peggy Blake's piercing gaze.
Governor Swann could only thank heaven that the young washerwoman had not been born a man. Then she would have been raised by this awful man's side and become just like him. One Cutler Beckett was enough trouble on his own, but two of his kind…that would have been a calamity.
"What do you want from me?" Governor Swann gulped, avoiding Beckett's eye as it gleamed with that cold light.
"Your authority as governor, your influence in London, and your loyalty to the East India Trading Company."
"To you, you mean."
Governor Swann stiffened as Beckett stalked towards him, his lips flickering upward in vindictive victory as he murmured.
"Shall I remove these shackles?"
Governor Swann looked down at his cuffed hands.
Oh, how he hated this monster, but what other choice did he have?
It was either this or face the gallows, and he could not protect his daughter if he were dead.
"Do what you can for my daughter," the Governor raised his wrists, wincing as Mercer slunk up beside him, key at the ready.
"So you see, Mercer," Beckett sneered, turning his back on his newest underling as Mercer unshackled him "Every man has a price he will willingly accept. Even for what he hoped never to sell."
By all that is good and holy, what have I done?
Governor Swan shut his eyes as he rubbed his bruised wrists.
Oh my sweet Marie. Watch over our dear Lizzy wherever she is.
Peggy Blake gaspe,d and her eyes flew open.
She lay alone on the thin bed in the Flying Dutchman's kitchen. The curtain had been pulled aside, bathing her in enough light to hit her eyes and make her cringe instantly.
Above her, a man was hissing as he shook her by the shoulder. He was trying very hard to be gentle, but his fear was evident in how badly his pale hand shook and his voice wavered as she rubbed her eyes.
"Bootstrap? What's…what's going on? Where's Will?" Peggy frowned as the hunched, coral-covered figure of the older Turner man came into sharper focus.
"Will's gone. He's left. You need to get up now."
"Gone? Gone where…" Peggy trailed off as she sat up and felt her covers shift, but they felt heavier than they had before. Now that she thought about it, there seemed to be two blankets over her.
She looked down and gasped…then frowned.
Beneath the blanket she wore was merely…another blanket.
But that…that could not be right.
Peggy frowned as she patted herself down.
She could have sworn she could feel something made of fur on her person.
She quickly looked down the front of her shirt. Only her stays and shift lay beneath, along with her abalone silver necklace around her neck and a couple of pouches that she kept stuffed in there for safekeeping.
And yet…she could feel fur…she could feel…
"My pelt!" she hissed at Bootstrap as he wildly looked around her bed. "Bootstrap, where's my pelt?"
"I dunno Pegs! Ah, there!" he hissed as he pulled out something yellow and papery from beneath her pillow and held it up to a torch.
Peggy recognised the chicken scratch handwriting with her name on the front at once—Will's handwriting.
"Bootstrap!" she gasped in horror as the paper caught fire in his hands. "Bootstrap, what are you doing?"
"I'm sorry, Peggy, but it's for your own good!" Bootstrap cursed, lunging out of the way before she could snatch the burning letter out of his hand. "If the Cap'in catches you with this, he'll-"
He stopped dead in his tracks, as did Peggy, as the familiar thudding of feet hit their ears from the deck above.
"WHERE IS SHE?! WHERE IS THAT WRETCHED GIRL?!" A voice snarled, growing louder as it descended below deck.
Peggy's face drained of all colour, and she felt herself start to tremble like a leaf as the footsteps grew louder and louder. Bootstrap quickly took advantage of her state of terror to toss the remnants of the letter straight into the fire; the clanging of the door, combined with the shouts of the Captain, finally roused Silver from his deep sleep.
"Hmm? Wassat?"
"GIRL!" the voice bellowed through the door, and Silver groaned angrily at Peggy.
"What ye done now?"
"I-I…I-" Peggy clamped her mouth shut as with a hard shove, the door to the kitchens BANGED open, the crash of wood against wood almost deafening as it echoed throughout the ship.
But nothing could compare to the monstrosity that was Captain Davy Jones standing over the threshold and panting like a starving, rabid dog going for the kill.
When he caught sight of Bootstrap Bill, his lips twisted into a sneer.
"Maccus!" Jones barked, pointing with his clawed hand to the undead man, "Take this mangy cur up to the deck. NOW!"
"Bootstrap!" Peggy gasped, but Bootstrap Bill shook his head warningly at her.
"Don' worry about me Pegs. It's going to be alright. It'll be alright."
Peggy felt fresh tears fall down her cheeks, and despair flooded her heart.
She could not help it; he sounded almost like Will in that moment. And what she would give to have Will standing protectively between her and Jones once more, with his stubborn glower and his hand, so rough from the forge, gently pushing her back.
Gods, she was pathetic.
She should fight back. She should help him.
But she was so scared.
No! No. She had to be strong…she had to be.
She was trembling so badly she was sure she was making the ship vibrate as she watched Maccus and a couple of men bind and drag Bootstrap out of the tiny kitchen.
"It'll be fine!" The man hissed as he passed her by, only to be silenced by a rough hand shoving him out the door.
"Keep quiet, dog!" Maccus hissed before turning and nodding respectfully to Jones, who had stepped into the room to tower over Peggy like a monolith.
As soon as the door was shut behind him, he hissed:
"Where is he?"
But Peggy could not speak. Her throat had gone dry, and her body felt frozen in place from sheer terror.
The tentacles on Jones's face twitched and flickered with agitation.
"Where is he? " he raised his crab clawed hand to grip around her throat. "Where is Turner? Where is that miserable, thieving whelp? ANSWER ME!"
Peggy shut her eyes as her eardrums were almost blasted to oblivion. If it had not been for the fact that her bladder was empty she would have pissed herself for sure as she stood there, neck at the mercy of that massive claw while her entire body stayed rigid as a corpse.
"I…" she whispered as she felt a little pressure being applied to her neck "I…don't know."
"LIAR!" Jones bellowed, "I told ye to kill him if he was going to leave. I ordered you to kill him if he started making a move!"
"I…I was asleep." Peggy whimpered, lips trembling as she tried and failed to hold back a sob of terror "H-he must have left while I was asleep. I was ordered to kill him if I saw him leave…But I didn't see him leave, so I couldn't-I…I couldn't…" her voice vanished replaced by a strangled squelching rasp as the Devil of the deep tightened his grip around her throat.
There was absolute silence on the ship. Not even the wind seemed to want to stir by the window in fear of enraging him. All footsteps of the crew above that usually were up and about on duty were now mute and still as the grave.
"Pathetic dreg." Jones sneered as she began to struggle for air, her hands reaching up on instinct to scratch at his claw grip in the hopes of release. "I gave you so many chances…and this is how you repay me? Yer let that slippery son of a bitch steal my key and for what? A scrap of fur? Oh aye," he chuckled mirthlessly as her eyes widened in shock. "Did ye think I would not notice yer pelt missin' from its chest, you stupid little brat?"
"M-m-my pelt?" Peggy gasped and, through her terror, she could feel a piece of her soul soar. So it was out of the silver chest. But where was it? She had not seen it anywhere in the kitchens. She could swear she could feel it on her yet she knew for a fact there was nothing on her person.
Wait! Wait…Will had stolen the key? Had he…had he also stolen her pelt too?
Something of her confusion must have shown on her face because she felt the claw around her throat loosen slightly.
"Where is it? Where is yer pelt?" Jones hissed. "Yer whelp took it, he must've returned it to ye so ye could run off together."
"I…I don't know." Peggy breathed. "I-I just woke up. I-I don't know where-"
"Then you'll search for it! RIGHT NOW!" Jones growled, shoving his clawed arm down at the floor.
Peggy cried out in pain as she was flung down onto the hard floorboards, barely breaking her fall in time to protect her face from making a permanent dent in the wood.
"Get a move on!" Jones snarled, kicking out at her with his pincer peg leg and walloping her in the stomach. Luckily for Peggy, she had rolled over a little, so he did not hit her as hard as he had intended.
Gulping down a large lungful of air, she scrambled around the kitchens like a dog on all fours, checking every surface, from the bed to the cabinets. Jones even roared at her to douse the fire in the oven.
Peggy did not know why he wanted her to check the oven. If her pelt had been thrown into the fire, she would have been turned mad from the pain of a literal piece of her soul burning to shreds. As a psychopomp with how many years of experience in the supernatural world, Jones would have known that for sure.
So why-
CLANG!
Peggy sucked in a sharp breath as one of the pots on the stove clattered to the ground beside where she was kneeling on the floor looking beneath a counter. She didn't dare squeak or let out a sound.
Any sign of fear right now would only sign her death warrant.
However, she could not help but wince as she felt Jones stomp across the tiny room to rip Silver's blanket from his legs to check him.
But all that was there was the raggedy pants and the grotesquely fused legs of a withered old man.
"GHHHARRRGH!" the Devil cursed as he tossed the blanket back over Silver, who was quiet, though unlike Peggy, he seemed quite at ease with the whole situation. Then again, this probably was not his first time seeing the Captain of the Flying Dutchman in such a state.
Peggy could only be grateful that the pot thrown down beside her did not have any hot food in it…or had not landed on her.
What she did see, however, astonished her.
He was panting, his pale eyes wild, almost manic, his tentacles flaring like the frill of a lizard as he loomed over the room, casting a long shadow over its occupants.
He looked, dare she even think it…
Scared?
The Devil of the Deep was scared?
If Peggy were not so terrified at that very moment, she would have been in awe of the sight.
"She doesn't know where it is, Captain," Silver grunted, smirking as the Captain swivelled his head sharply in his direction. "She was dead ter the world when the whelp left-"
"An' ye didn't think ter raise the alarm?" Jones snarled, but Silver was unfazed.
"I was just waking up meself." He shrugged. "I thought he was goin' for his shift. If he did take the pelt or the key, then he didn't tell her. I would've known."
Peggy's brow furrowed as she stared at her reflection in the pot by her side.
Will had left a message for her. Bootstrap had burnt it.
If Silver had been waking up as Will was leaving, then he must have seen the note when it had been first placed in her bed.
So why was Silver lying?
Was he enjoying the drama? Or was there something else brewing behind those wrinkled eyes?
Jones seemed to be considering his options as some of the panic drained out of him.
Peggy gulped as she stayed put on the floor, not daring to move without his approval as he looked her up and down.
Her gut dropped as she saw his pale lips curl into a sneer as a spark appeared in his eyes.
"He took yer pelt with him." Jones hissed as he stalked across the floor to Peggy. "Ye can't find it in here because it's with him. But ye can feel it aye?"
Oh no…Peggy's lip trembled as tears welled in her eyes. No…please no…don't ask this of me.
"ANSWER ME!"
"Aye, Captain." Peggy shut her eyes, the tear burning down her cheek "I…I can sense it."
Coward…complete and utter coward.
"Then get up!" Jones spat, "Get up and go to the helmsman. Your beloved thinks he can steal from the Devil, but it will be his heart I rip from him one way or another, starting with you!"
"No-please-"
"Silence!" the crab-claw of the Devil slapped her across the face "Go to the helm. Show them the way to your thieving rat! That's an ORDER!"
Peggy gulped down a sob as she scrambled to her feet and ran out the door. She dared not disobey, not when the itching in the mark on her right wrist was so awful she wanted to scratch her skin off.
But if she led them to Will…if the Devil unleashed his full wrath…
But she also didn't want to die.
The thought was enough to make her slow down as she ascended the steps.
For all these weeks, she had thought she had accepted her fate.
Jack would escape Jones by the skin of his teeth somehow, and Will would return to Elizabeth and live a long, happy life with her. And Peggy…she would wither and fade here on this ghost ship to be forgotten.
That was it. That was all that was going to happen to her.
But the mere thought of that poison slipping into her veins…
Of course, perhaps it was because she knew that the poison would be an agonising and slow way to go. Yes, that had to be it. She was just scared because she didn't want to die in pain, that was all. Who would? If one could choose how they could leave this world, they'd prefer as little pain as possible, right?
Yet for some reason, something inside of her was kicking and screaming at her not to give up.
Was it her pelt? Was it because it was finally out of its enchanted prison that it was pushing for her to live? Or was it just her innate survival instinct kicking in as stubbornly as a charging bull?
Whatever it was, it did nothing to alleviate the weight of guilt she felt as she approached the helmsman, Greenbeard.
Greenbeard was one of the older crew members and had served under the Captaincy of Davy Jones for a long time. So old was he that the only thing human about him was that he had a vaguely humanoid shape covered in sea flora and seaweed. His head was conical with coral-like green flesh and a mouth made of molluscs and muscles. When she approached, yellow eyes glared out of slit-shaped sockets at her, and his head gave an unnerving twitch to the side.
"What's our headin' lass?" a guttural, garbled voice asked from that awful mouth.
May all the gods of the ocean forgive me.
Peggy shut her eyes and sucked in a deep breath.
Even up here on the deck, she could feel the pull of her pelt's magic. However, this time it was different.
Whenever Davy Jones used it to call on her she had felt a nasty tug, as if she were being held back by a leash.
But now… now it was she who was seeking it out.
Oh Will…Will, wherever you are, I'm so sorry.
Will Turner shivered as he clutched the blanket around his shoulders tightly.
Morning had come far too early. Even after he had made sure to leave as soon as he could the previous evening, it seemed like time was in a rush to catch up to him.
Luckily, Will had been picked up by a merchant ship, the Speedwell, at the crack of dawn, and though she was an older ship, she was faster than the pathetic rowboat he had been using.
But all that seemed of little consequence now.
Will reached under his shirt for the soft fur pelt that lay against his skin.
He was glad he had changed his mind about leaving it behind with Peggy. At first, he had thought she could use it to escape once he had the Dead Man's Chest. But then he had realised that Jones would probably have killed her if he thought her involved with the theft of the key.
No, this was the safest way. He had to let Jones believe he was nothing more than a disgusting thief who would abandon his beloved to save his skin.
So long as Jones believed that, then he could not harm Peggy. He would have to keep her alive to find Will and the key.
Will almost felt sick with himself for the lie, but what choice did he have? It was the only way Peggy would be safe until he had killed Jones.
Please forgive me, Peg. Will sucked in a deep soothing breath, the scent of her from the pelt filling his nose and bracing his nerves.
I will be back soon. I'll find that heart and free you, and I'll find you…and you'll be safe.
Will shut his eyes as he found himself once again remembering waking up beside her in her bed in Mister Brown's apartment. His arms around her soft body, her copper locks tucked under his nose, the small, shy smile playing on her lips as she opened her bleary eyes and peeked up at him.
Even thinking about that smile now made the fire in his gut burn. If he failed now...if he did not get the heart...it would be gone. It would all be gone and he would never be able to get her back.
Just hold on a little longer for me. Just hold on and don't give up. We're almost there. Almost there.
"Here, lad! Take this." Captain Barnaby of the Speedwell grunted as he handed Will a mug of ale, which he gulped down gratefully. "Strange to come upon a longboat so far out in open waters."
"Just put as many leagues behind us as you can. As fast as you can." He muttered, draining the cup.
"An' what exactly are we runnin' from?" Captain Barnaby folded his arms.
If that isn't a story and a half.
Will shuddered, feeling a wave of fear flood him, and a familiar voice whispered sorrowfully.
"Oh Will…Will, wherever you are, I'm so sorry."
He shut his eyes in dismay as he felt her grief flow through him from the touch of the pelt.
So…Jones had discovered his disappearance, and he was using her connection to find him.
It's better than him killing her. Will sucked in a deep breath as he forced himself to look around the Captain's quarters.
It was nothing fancy. Captain Barnaby was a humble self-made man of simple tastes.
Then something gold caught Will's eye. He turned to look at it, cursing himself as he heard Jack's mocking voice echo in his head.
"An' yer completely obsessed with treasure."
But this was not the gold of a coin or trinket. This was gold coloured silk.
Very familiar gold coloured silk.
Will's eyes widened as he beheld a golden wedding dress lying draped over a chair right beside the Captain's desk. The ivory petticoat beneath was slightly damaged by damp, and the hem of the sleeves was tattered; some of the expensive beading had fallen off, but it was mostly intact. A few days with a seamstress and it would be as good as new…not that its previous wearer would ever have the time or means to get it repaired again.
"That dress…" He breathed as he strode towards it with wide eyes. "Where did you get it?"
"It was found aboard the ship." Captain Barnaby frowned in puzzlement "The crew thought it was a spirit bringing some omen of ill fate."
"That's foolish," Will murmured as he took the dress in his hands and examined it closely.
Yes…there was no doubt about it. It was Elizabeth's wedding dress.
But what is it doing here? Where is Elizabeth? He wondered, brow furrowing.
Had something happened back at Port Royal? Had Lord Beckett done something to Governor Swann? Why would Elizabeth be out here on the open seas in a disguise?
"Oh yes, exceedingly foolish", one of the men behind Barnaby snorted, only to be chided by his companion.
"Yes, but it brought good fortune. The spirit told us to pull in at Tortuga an' we made a nice bit o' profit there."
"Off the books of course." Barnaby gave a warning glance to his two men as Will stiffened.
Tortuga? But no, that would make sense. If Elizabeth were to go looking for him or Jack and the Pearl, then Tortuga would be the logical place to start. And if Jack needed to recruit 99 souls for his deal with Jones, then he'd also be headed to Tortuga. With all the extra pirates filling the port because of Beckett's iron fist there would be plenty of volunteers.
"I imagine some of your crew may have jumped ship there?" he asked carefully.
"Why do you ask?" Barnaby narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
But before Will could answer, the door to the Captain's quarters burst open and a sailor scrambled inside.
"Captain, a ship's been spotted!"
"Colours?" Captain Barnaby asked sharply, but to everyone's dismay, the sailor shook his head.
"She isn't flyin' any."
"Pirates!"
Barnaby cursed as he gestured to his men to leave his quarters, Will following hot on their trail, doing his best to keep the panic at bay as he felt a surge of terror flood into him from the selkie pelt.
He did not need to heed the words of the crewmen watching the dark shape of the ship approaching them swiftly from the port side. Nor did he need to, and heard Peggy's voice all but scream in his head.
"WILLIAM, GET OUT OF THERE! RUN!"
"NO! NO, CAPTAIN! PLEASE!" Peggy called from her spot at the helm as many hands grabbed to hold her back.
But Bootstrap Bill Turner hardly moved a muscle as Davy Jones thrust his claw hand towards his neck, squeezing it hard enough to turn the already pale, waterlogged face of the undead man blue.
"You will watch this!" the Devil of the Deep snarled, pale eyes flashing as he turned to look at Peggy, nostrils flared with malicious delight and vengeful pleasure.
"And as fer you, wench! You can get a front row seat!" he released Bootstrap's throat to grab at Peggy's arm instead holding her against him with his humanoid hand to her neck, the tentacled index finger wrapping warningly around the column of her throat until it covered her mouth blocking her from shouting so that she could only watch everything unfold through streaming eyes.
There, on the deck below, eight men pushed at a large wooden wheel. In the middle of the wheel, a pillar of wood rose from the bowls of the ship. It was an ancient structure, carved with runes and markings from a time long forgotten and whose meaning had been lost to history.
Peggy had seen it but once before, thirteen years ago, and she would never forget the devastation it had caused.
The Devil had his mark of ink for death for disobedient crew, but this? This was the ultimate sentence for his enemies.
The final blow to end a battle before a victim could load their guns and man the battle stations.
There would be no canon fire or shrapnel blasting across the deck. There would be no chance to surrender.
There was no running from this, no escape.
Only death.
WILLIAM, GET OUT OF THERE! RUN!
"Let no joyful voice be heard!" Jones roared to the skies as the accursed column rose higher into the air. Peggy could feel the magic thickening in the air and thought she saw some of the carvings in the wood glow a faint blue.
"Let no man look up at the sky with hope!"
Higher and higher the column rose, and harder Peggy struggled as she beheld the ship. It was not the Black Pearl, nor was it any pirate ship she recognised. Yet that did not matter.
Those poor men. She wept, her tears flowing freely over Davy Jones's hand, but he was unmoved. If anything, it only served to fuel the Devil's vindictive glee as he shouted.
"And let this day be cursed by we who ready to wake…THE KRAKEN!"
"NOOOO!"
KABBOOOOM!
Notes:
And there we have it. A shorter chapter than normal, but the Kraken release seemed like the right spot to end it.
I'm enjoying everything tying together. It's fun to write Jack and Elizabeth in the same scenes again. They have such an interesting dynamic in the films, and I'm enjoying exploring it here. Elizabeth is charmed by him (because he is Captain Jack Sparrow), but also completely aware of his duplicity. Jack enjoys her feistiness and company, but also wants to take digs at her for being one of the people who hurt his cabin girl.
Will and Peggy are now on the receiving end of Jones's wrath
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, even though it was short, and keep reading, reviewing, favouriting, and following for more. :)
Cheers
Fuzzybeta
Chapter 30: A Beastly Temper
Summary:
“One more step, Mr. Hands," said I, "and I'll blow your brains out! Dead men don't bite, you know," I added with a chuckle.”
― Robert Louis Stevenson, Treasure Island
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
"Let no joyful voice be heard! Let no man look up at the sky with hope! And let this day be cursed by we who ready to wake…THE KRAKEN!"
"NOOOO!"
KABBOOOOM!
Peggy shut her streaming eyes as a shockwave rippled through the wooden boards of the Flying Dutchman and straight into the dark waters below. The sound was deep, pulsing, less like a drum and more like a giant heartbeat. Or was that her own heart she could feel pounding in her ears and mixing with Bootstrap Bill's screams of grief and terror?
For some reason, she could feel something pressing against the back of her mind. A voice. But it was not her voice.
"I've doomed us all."
It sounded like Will's voice. Was it a memory? Was the selkie's bond so frayed and snapped that she was going insane and hearing voices everywhere?
"Open your eyes, wretch!" The Devil snarled straight into her ear.
But she couldn't watch. She just couldn't. No. Whatever had happened between them, she could not watch Will die like this.
"WATCH!" Davy Jones spat against the side of her face.
Peggy opened her eyes, gasping as she felt the devil's tentacled finger remove itself from her mouth so she could breathe. Or did he want to hear her weep?
Whatever he wanted, she would not give in. Will's words of defiance echoed in her head, bracing her against the fear. Through tears, she glared at Davy Jones, lips trembling as his hand around her neck pushed her forward.
Under his guidance, she stumbled down the steps to the lower deck, where she was shoved bodily against the ship's railing. She would have toppled over into the drink if the Devil had not had such a tight grip on her.
"Ahh, there it is." Davy Jones chuckled darkly.
Peggy's blood chilled in her veins as she glimpsed a dark shadow moving beneath the surface of the water. It was humungous, nearly a titan in size. The malevolence emanating from it was so powerful she could feel it even from her spot above the water.
The hair on the back of Peggy's neck stood on end, and her inner selkie hissed as the sudden urge to flee welled up within her. Such a deep, primal instinct nearly overwhelmed all sense of logic or reason.
The fear was more potent than those awful moments she had sensed a predator in the water while she was swimming in her seal form.
No, this gargantuan monstrosity was far worse than any shark or killer whale. This was a creature of the ancient world. A servant of the old gods, like Scylla and Charybdis, only this beast was gifted unto the Devil to punish and destroy without him needing to fire a shot or lift a finger.
She could feel her nails extend into claws just at the sight of the creature's skin skimming the surface of the water before diving, the dark shadow swiftly moving like a ghost towards the ship in the distance.
Peggy gulped as she looked at the vessel.
It was no pirate ship she recognised, nor did it seem like a navy vessel. She looked a bit too old and battered for that. No, this was probably just a simple merchant's vessel minding its own business and trying to keep out of sight and mind of pirates. From the flags she could see going up and the business on deck, they must have spotted the Flying Dutchman sailing towards them, but had yet to clock the odd supernatural nature of the cursed ship.
So enveloped in her fear that she hardly noticed the Devil's pale eyes watching her closely, a sneer spreading across his face as a cruel idea popped into his mind.
Foolish girl, she wore all her emotions on that face of hers.
"I warned ye of what would happen should ye fail me." Davy Jones hissed his grip on her neck tightening slightly, "I showed ye and yer lad mercy that night ye both came aboard my ship. Gave you the chance to stay true to yer vows of matrimony without interference. All I asked for in return was yer obedience. And this is how ye betray me?"
He sucked in a deep breath to calm himself before continuing.
"I was gonna let ye stay here with that dastardly piece of filth ter watch yer lad die at the hands of the Kraken" he shot a nasty look at a struggling Bootstrap on the deck above. "But since ye cannae dream of bein' parted from yer dearly beloved, I've got something much better in mind for ye."
The tentacle around her neck slid off her skin and Peggy almost buckled into the railing from the shock. She had not realised how much her legs felt like jelly.
"Go, find yer lad, an' bring him back to the ship-"
"B-but the Kraken-" Peggy gasped as she finally found her footing, only to cry out in pain as the mark on her wrist burned and throbbed.
"Bring him back!" Jones snarled, tentacled beard flaring and pale eyes wide with manic fury "Dead or alive! And be quick about it."
He shoved her forward, and Peggy screamed as she felt her body tip.
There was the familiar rush of cold air as she hurtled over the side of the Flying Dutchman, but before her body could register the change in temperature, she all but slammed into the dark, choppy water below.
She cried out in pain, water flooding into her mouth as she crashed beneath the ocean's surface and was sucked into the watery depths. No matter how many times it happened, falling overboard was always painful, like slamming into a brick wall.
She could already feel the bruises forming even as her bones began to stretch and shrink. But for some reason, this transformation was not as painful as she had braced herself for.
It must have been the shock. She mused to herself. Yes, the shock and pain of falling overboard doubled with the fear, making her blood pound in her head, must have been overpowering any of the usual discomforts of transforming without her pelt.
Got to find Will. Got to get him out of there. The Dutchman may be dangerous, but it's safer than being out in the ocean with that Kraken.
With a shake of her now seal-shaped head, she swam forward, not noticing that the torn clothes that usually accompanied her transformation were nowhere to be seen.
Above the water, Maccus approached his captain the expression of gleeful malice giving way for a moment to anxiousness.
"Captain. Are ye sure about this?" He whispered so the rest of the crew could not hear. "Lettin' her go again. Last time she-."
"Oh, I know." Davy Jones's eyes gleamed with derisive pleasure as he caught sight of long dark shadows sliding up the side of the distant merchant ship's hull. "But whatever happens now, there will be no hidin'. Whether he is alive or not, when she brings him back, she can watch as I cleave him limb from limb. An' if she tries ter run…well…" The devil chuckled wickedly, "Her precious whelp can watch her suffer and die by my mark. Either way, selkie or human I will get my pound of flesh."
Will stared down aghast at the ocean.
He was high up on the main mast, standing on one of the higher yards near the crow's nest. The second the Speedwell had hit that strange halt, he had clambered his way up as fast as Jack the Monkey for a better look.
There she was, the Flying Dutchman approaching from the port side. Though she was less menacing in the light of day, her crocodilian maw on her bow cut a sharp outline against the strange grey fog that had suddenly billowed into being around her hull where the water met the rotting wooden boards.
Will remembered the strange swirling fog that had once shrouded the Black Pearl when the Treasure of Cortez cursed it.
Was this supernatural cover the norm for ships of the damned? Was it a strange spell from the so-called "old gods"?
Screams leapt up, piercing the cold morning air, and Will looked down, only to feel the blood freeze in his veins.
Massive greyish tentacles, like those of an octopus but with the thickness of great trees, were slithering across the deck of the Speedwell. With a swiftness that belied their great size, the appendages crushed whatever they touched, whether they be pieces of rigging, barrels, or even the men, no, especially the men.
Whatever this Kraken was, it was on the hunt for a fresh kill, and it was getting a veritable feast. Even with the men below grabbing at any sharp weapon to strike every slippery limb, no man's blow was enough to push back for more than a second. Even with the bangs and flashes of guns and lit powder, nothing seemed to be able to stop the onslaught of the never-ending mass of tentacles, crushing and dragging the poor souls back to the depths below.
Will scrambled to grip the rigging as a tentacle snapped the base of the mast below him. With a groan of wood and metal, the giant piece of ship began precariously tilting further and further towards the bow and straight into the foremast.
Without even pausing to think, Will leapt from his perch straight onto the foremast sail before the main mast could collide with the other log of wood, using his father's dagger to slow down his descent down the luffing canvas and hoping to god none of those tentacles below would snatch at him or something else pushed him to fall to his death.
By some miracle, he managed to grab onto some ropes rigged to the bottom of one of the lower yards of the foremast and used them to haul himself back onto the wooden support beam.
Never had he been so glad to have been subjected to so much hard labour in his life under Mister Brown's terrible instruction. All those hours working hard and building up strength in the forge to make up for his master's failings were perhaps the only thing keeping him alive and kicking despite his exhaustion from the night before.
Keeping a tight grip on the rigging in one hand, Will tucked his father's dagger into his belt and unsheathed his cutlass to swipe at a tentacle coming close to his legs.
He managed a couple of cuts and even one stab into the attacking limb forcing it to retract while dark blood streamed down its skin and sprayed onto the deck below along with the seawater. Will's brow furrowed in confusion, only to stiffen as he felt a shadow pass over him.
Eyes widening in horror he looked up and saw two humungous tentacles with suckers nearly the size of his whole body looming out of the water, easily dwarfing the height of the mast. So tall were they that he had to crane his neck to see the tip of them blocking out the sun as it peeked out from behind a cloud.
"No-no-no-no!" he hissed, shaking his head as a massive groan bellowed from beneath and the waters around the ship began to bubble like a witch's cauldron.
WHAM!
The crash of the tentacles was so loud that Will's ears rang. He held on for dear life as wood splintered and burst apart, water sprayed from above and below, men shrieking and hollering in terror and desperation as a big gaping hole split apart the middle of the collapsed deck.
Will almost threw up then and there as something massive breathed up into the air, spreading a vapour so vile and so pungent…it was like being near a pile of burning, rotting corpses on a battlefield.
But the smell was nothing compared to the sight of the several rings of teeth within the sucking, gaping void, flexing and drumming in anticipation as men and pieces of ship slid inwards, the seawater washing them down like rats in a drain.
If I make it out of this mess alive, I am never mocking Gibbs again! Will shivered only to cry out as the foremast began to tilt ominously downward in the direction of the Kraken's waiting mouth.
"WILL!" A voice screamed in his head. A familiar feminine voice that brought just as much joy as it did confusion and fear.
"Will you need to jump now!"
"Peg?" Will clutched at his chest. Was it just him, or was the selkie pelt hot to the touch?
There was a massive judder as another of the Kraken's tentacles tried to grasp at the foremast again. However, instead of falling into the monster's mouth, the foremast lurched sideways towards the port side.
"WILL JUMP NOW!"
Will wasted no time.
With a grunt, he leapt.
Time seemed to slow as he fell through the air. He was vaguely aware of his limbs positioning themselves to dive properly, but in his mind, he felt more like a passenger than an active participant.
His eyes saw the wall of grey water hurtling towards him, but across his mind all he could see were flashes.
Flashes of a warm smile…of gentle hands…a teasing poke to the ribs…a laugh…a sob…tears and shouts…a warm body resting against his, so relaxed so trusting…the sun gleaming gold as it hit copper red locks…a woman's voice singing softly through a door-
SPLASH!
Will winced as he finally pierced the surface of the water, the speed of his fall making him dive deep and hard and driving all the visions of his mind straight from him. His back, still bruised and torn from its whipping, was now burning as the bandages Peggy had meticulously bound over them got soaked in frigid salty water.
God, it was freezing. If it hadn't been for the selkie pelt keeping his chest warm, he thought he might have died from the cold.
He certainly was shocked when he opened his eyes under the water and saw the gargantuan body that lay beneath the waves. It appeared to be some mix of a squid and an octopus…or was it cuttlefish? A shark? What on earth?
Whatever the thing was, it was a disgusting abomination, one that made something in his core want to run and hide far-far away and never resurface for fifty years.
Fuelled by a fear that was almost animal, Will pushed himself back to the surface of the water, gasping desperately for much-needed air. His arms and legs were burning from exhaustion as he treaded the water, searching desperately for a scrap of wood or something to use as a float-
He yelped as something splashed to the surface beside him, and at once his arm lashed out to swat at it. He knew it was pointless. If the Kraken were going to snare him in one of its tentacles, then his weak hand would do nothing at all to deter it.
But to his surprise, instead of feeling a cold, fleshy tentacle, his hand pushed into something furry, wet and soft.
"What the-" he cried out, eyes widening like saucers as the sleek, brown head of a seal spat at him indignantly.
"Peg!" he gasped, tears welling in his stinging eyes as the selkie shook out her head. "Peggy, what are you doing here? How did you escape Jones?"
But Peggy did not respond; instead, she ducked beneath his reaching hand to nuzzle her way under his arm, using her buoyant body to hold them both up above the water as she began steering them away from the feasting Kraken.
"Thanks", Will whispered, spluttering as he almost inhaled a mouthful of seawater. God, she was so warm in this seal form. He was so exhausted and aching he was nearly tempted to hold onto her and float aimlessly in the water until he fell asleep, then and there, sea monster be damned.
But alas, fate had other plans for them.
Will grimaced as the large shadow of the Flying Dutchman fell over him and Peggy.
"Guess this is our only way out, huh?" Will whispered as he reached out to grip some kelp-covered netting that hung off the side of the cursed vessel.
Peggy huffed, her big, round, seal eyes wells of sadness as she looked up at the dread ship. Her prison…his doom…
"Sorry, Peg." Will reached out to touch her snout. "But it's the only way-"
He fell short as the seal face before him swiftly began to shrink backwards. Brown and cream fur faded smoothly to reveal a freckled face and wet, red curls, and the flippers that had once waved around beneath the water effortlessly lengthened to working arms.
Beneath the water, Will could see the blubbery shape disappear and be replaced by a more humanoid form with legs and feet.
"Peggy?"
"I'm…I'm fine." Peggy Blake sighed, taking Will's hand as he reached out to pull her towards the safety of the net, one of his arms wrapping around her shoulder and holding her close to his side. "You're alive, thank the gods."
Will shut his eyes, leaning into her touch as she clung to him. So warm after the cold harshness of the sea…
"How did you…?" he breathed, only to stiffen as a rough voice barked from high above
"OI! Get these rotten sods in a line."
A figure peered out high above over the railing and Will flattened himself against the hull, trapping Peggy between his front and the wood to hide her from view
"That's it! All dead." A deep voice grunted.
"Ye sure mate?" Another sailor of the Flying Dutchman grunted. "No sign of that whelp?"
"Nah! Not a peep! Must'a gotten swallowed."
"What about the brat?"
Peggy and Will shrank further into the wood, thanking their lucky stars that the fog that drifted over the water around the base of the ship was helping shroud them from view of the Dutchman's deck even as the figure peered around for a sign of life.
"Nah! No sign o' her," the figure said after a watchful pause. "But she'll be back, ye mark my words"
Will and Peggy sighed silently in relief, the latter quickly pointing towards the bow of the ship where there was more flotsam and jetsam to use as handholds.
As they carefully clambered up the bow, Peggy looked down at the water.
Everywhere she looked, dead bodies floated between the broken fragments of the ruined ship.
Some bodies were blue from drowning, others battered, burnt and bruised from the impact of the ship imploding. Worst were the lacerated corpses, shredded apart by sharp pieces of wood and metal that had gone awry during the destruction.
Here and there, she caught sight of a few smaller shadows swiftly moving beneath the surface of the water, while in the distance, a couple of sharp, pointed fins briefly broke through the water's surface.
The Kraken was the apex predator, but there were plenty of other smaller predators who would be happy to scavenge from its scraps once the beast had gorged itself to its heart's content.
And this newest wreckage was quickly becoming a gruesome smorgasbord.
Gods, that was close. Peggy shivered as the familiar dark shadow of a shark nearby tugged down the dead body of a man, a blooming plume of dark crimson in the water splashing against the slow-moving hull of the Dutchman.
Thank all the old gods that she was in human form right now and above the water. She didn't want to imagine what would have happened to her if she were stranded in her seal form amidst the carnage and chaos.
And speaking of chaos.
Peggy frowned as she spotted, floating nearby, a gold silk wedding dress…that dress…where had she seen it before?
Now that she thought about it…
She looked down at herself as a thought niggled at the back of her mind.
To her greatest surprise, she was still wearing the old clothes she had worn before her transformation. But how? How was that possible? She was sure she must have ripped them when she had entered the water. Then there was the way she had transformed. So painless, so smooth. It had not been like that for so long…
But no…that strange warmth she had felt when Will had touched her…
My pelt. He has my pelt. But how can I transform without pain if Will has my pelt? I should only be able to transform like that if I'm wearing the pelt.
Whatever questions she had, however, were dashed as she heard the Maccus's voice clear above the murmurs and scared mumblings from the deck above.
"The boy's not here. He must have been claimed by the sea."
"I am the sea." A dark voice hissed.
There was the thudding of janky footsteps on wood and the same voice yelling "Brig!"
Peggy shivered, glancing at her wrist where the devil's mark stood out clear as day. Now her entire palm and wrist were covered in black veins, the skin between starting to pale into a strange, sickly colour.
However, to her surprise, she did not feel any of the familiar warning tingle she usually got when Davy Jones was mad.
Maybe because you followed orders for once. Ye stupid brat. A voice that sounded eerily like Barbossa slid into her brain, so loud she almost swore the scraggly pirate was there beside her.
And hadn't she done exactly that?
Jones had only ever told her to bring Will back to the ship. He never specified that she needed to deliver Will to him directly.
"Will, careful." She breathed as the blacksmith hauled himself higher to peek onto the deck.
There, before his eyes, was a terrible, familiar sight.
Five bruised, battered, scraggly men on the cusp of life and death were kneeling on the deck before a seething Davy Jones for inspection.
Behind each man stood a cursed sailor from Jones's crew, weapons drawn and held at the ready by their sides in one hand, while the other hand had their victim still in front of them.
On one side of Davy Jones was Maccus, holding an axe and looking oddly anxious as he glanced up at his captain's furious face. But on Jones's other side was…was Bootstrap.
Will's heart sank at the sight of his father's pallid face.
It was so pale…so devoid of emotion…so hollow…despair did not seem to be a big enough word to describe the waves of grief rolling off the elder Turner as he stared straight ahead, his pale eyes seeing but unseeing.
"What of the survivors?" Maccus barked, the sharp tones almost making Will jump.
There was a beat as Davy Jones looked down at the bedraggled men on the floor, assessing their trembling form with such disdain as if they were nothing more than muck on the sole of his boot.
"There are no survivors." The devil spat, his tone so ice cold you could have formed an iceberg.
There were cries of despair and snarls of joy as the five cursed sailors raised their weapons high in the air.
Will turned away at the last second, unable to bear watching as five bodies fell to the floor with heavy thumps.
God, those poor men...no…not all men. Will corrected himself as he saw the slack, terrified face of a lad barely of age lying amongst the five stragglers.
A boy…a boy and four men…a ship full of innocents…
All gone…
All dead…
All because they were decent people who had just tried their best to help him. A selfish man who was scrambling to save the life of a woman he didn't deserve.
He quickly ducked back below the bowsprit and just above the crocodilian maw of the Dutchman to join Peggy as footsteps approached the edge of the bow.
Both the selkie and the blacksmith shut their mouths tight, hardly daring to breathe, as the brim of a large hat became visible over the side.
"The chest is no longer safe. Chart a course to Isla Cruces!" Davy Jones barked over his shoulder, his voice carrying in the now still morning air. "Get me there first or there'll be the devil to pay!"
"First?" a smaller voice asked confusedly.
"AGHH!" Davy Jones stomped his pincer peg leg hard on the deck "Who sent that thieving charlatan and that selkie she devil onto my ship? Who told 'em of the key?" he turned back around to growl at the horizon.
"Jack Sparrow!"
Peggy and Will held their breath as they watched the brim of Jones's hat disappear from the railing and uneven footsteps stomp further away, to be replaced by the familiar scrambling of the crew.
"Come on," Peggy murmured as she gently tugged Will's sleeve. "I know a spot we can rest."
Will nodded gratefully, silently and swiftly following Peggy as she descended the front of the ship towards the base of the open crocodilian maw.
To his surprise, the structure was not quite as hollow as he had thought.
There was a flat space safe barely wide enough for them to lie down together on their sides, let alone tall enough to sit without hunching.
It was a little cramped, but after the hell of the past few hours, Will would have gladly slept squashed in a barrel. Besides, it was a hidden spot safe from any prying eyes, and the teeth on either side of him and Peggy were as good as railings and would prevent either of them from falling out and into the cold churning water.
"That was a close one." Peggy sighed as she crawled into the smaller space to make room for Will as he clambered in after her.
"How did you find this place?" Will frowned, wincing as his head accidentally bumped the wood above.
"When I was little, I used to sneak out here sometimes to hide from Maccus and his cronies whenever they wanted to hunt me down for a hiding," Peggy grunted bitterly as she wrung out her long, wet hair.
"They never found it?" Will frowned. Surely on a ship like this, such a longstanding crew would have known every nook and cranny.
"Oh, they knew about it, but they didn't think to look." Peggy mumbled, "It's too small for most crew, so it hasn't been used by anyone in years. Silver says they used to order men to hide here in the teeth whenever they were in battle so that when they used the sprit to ram ships from the side, they could board and surprise the enemy. Though I can't imagine that it would be used much nowadays, since Jones now has his damn pet to do everything for him. Gah! Damn it, it's cold." She grumbled, shivering as she shook herself to rid the excess wet from her drenched form.
Unlike Will, who was wearing a wet, dark coat over his vest, breeches and shirt, she was only in her shirt and breeches. Davy Jones had not allowed her to put on her boots when he had dragged her from her bed in the kitchens and up onto the deck.
"Come here"
Before Peggy could even blink, she felt herself tugged forward. Will was just as wet as she, but the heat of his body was soothing. She sighed in contentment as she felt one hand rubbing gentle circles into her back to warm her while the other smoothed her wet hair away from her face.
"Will-"
Peggy's voice fell away as he pressed a small kiss to her forehead, his brown eyes shut tight as his body began to shake.
"It's all my fault."
"Oh, Will," Peggy's heart almost broke as she heard the soft sob in her ear. "Will, it's alright-"
"No!" He murmured, his voice hoarse and his hands trembling even as they tightened around her. "No…it's not alright -It's all my fault. You're stuck here in this living hell…those men are all dead…"
"Shhh Will-"
"-All those men are dead because of me-"
"William, it's not your fault-"
"They did nothing wrong." He sniffed as he desperately tried to pull himself together, his belly a hot pit of shame as Peggy pulled back to push his wet, dark locks from his tearstained face "They were just trying to help me…they were all innocent men just doing their jobs…and I doomed them all, right after I doomed you-"
"No. No, that's not true." Peggy cupped his cheeks, tears burning in her own eyes "You didn't doom anyone today. What happened out there was Davy Jones. He didn't have to send the Kraken over to do his dirty work. He didn't have to kill all those survivors. He chose to do all those evil things, and those are his choices, his alone. You hear me? It's not your fault. It's not your fault"
The last words came out as a whisper, which she repeated softly as she pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, her arms wrapping around his neck to run her fingers through his hair.
Will shut his streaming eyes and buried his face into her neck.
How many times had she held him this close after a nightmare had woken him up weeping? How many times had she whispered soft soothing words in his ear and stroked his head after he ranted and shouted himself hoarse in frustration at losing all their money to their landlord's drinking habits? And still, after all he had done to her, after bringing ruin to a ship of innocent men, she held him close to comfort him.
He shivered as he remembered the Kraken, the giant gaping void filled with rings of teeth swallowing sailors whole.
To think she was so close to that monstrosity.
God, if she had gotten a hair's breadth closer to that thing while she was already so close to perishing in another dark, horrible way…
"What were you doing out there?" He rasped as he finally found his voice. "How did you escape when Jones-"
"I didn't escape," Peggy mumbled as she drew back carefully from him. "He let me go."
"What?" Will stared wide-eyed as Peggy shook her head.
"I'm not free," she said before he could open his mouth again. "He just…he ordered me to bring you back to the Dutchman…probably so he could kill you for stealing the key."
"But if that's the case, then how come you're alright hiding down here?" Will wondered, "Surely you should be taking me to him, right?"
"And I would have if he had given me the order." Peggy swallowed down the lump in her throat. "But he didn't. It's like Jack says: 'If you really want to screw with someone love, then do exactly what they tell you to down to the last letter.'" She blushed a little as Will managed a small smile at her impression of the pirate. "-All Jones said was that I had to bring you back to the ship. And that's exactly what I've done. He gave no other instructions. I think he was banking on me being so scared that I'd turn you in to curry favour and bargain for my freedom."
"You still could. It could save your life." Will murmured, and Peggy shook her head.
"I can't watch you die. Not like this. I've seen him kill too many people. If I were to watch you die at his hand..." She paused to suck in a deep breath and look him straight in the eye.
"I love you Will. I love you, and you don't have to say it back o-or do anything or try to do something kind to spare me the pain." She added before he could open his mouth. "But just know that even if you do not love me in return, even if I am to die of a broken heart alone, if I can find a way to spare you a painful death by the devil's hand, I will take it however I can."
Will shut his eyes as he melted into her embrace, his body shaking with silent sobs as he buried his face into the crook of her neck, as her words echoed in his head.
"I love you"
Though she had admitted she had feelings for him, that was the first time she had ever said those three words to him. Not even when they had been living together had she ever used those words even in jest.
"I love you."
Those three words he had thrown about so flippantly six months ago to another woman, she said with such care and tenderness for him and him alone, not because she wanted to steal him away or beguile him. But simply because she loved him and wanted him to know.
There was no grand romantic gesture for appearances, no postulating before a crowd to prove her worth, no dressing up fancy to impress him or a gaggle of haughty strangers.
There was just Peggy, his Peggy, here in his arms, just being herself and telling him she loved him without expecting anything in return.
His heart almost felt full to bursting, though from grief or joy he could not tell anymore.
But he couldn't say it back…not yet.
He felt like a coward. He was able to say it when she was asleep and couldn't hear him, but not when she was right there with him in his arms.
But he could not.
Not now. Not like this.
It would not be right.
He was still engaged to Elizabeth. To tell Peggy he loved her while he was still promised to another whom he cared about would be wrong. Will would not make her the 'other woman', not when she deserved to be so much more.
"We're going to get through this, Peggy."
"Will listen-"
"No! No, you listen," Will snarled, pulling back and reaching under his shirt and pulling out the bundled wet selkie pelt. "You are going to be free. You are going to live-"
"But Jones-"
"You will not die." He repeated through gritted teeth. "And you are not going to give up." He leaned in, pressing her pelt into her grip.
"Will this is-" Peggy stared in astonishment as she looked down at her hands. She could hardly breathe as her fingers traced the darker brown speckles flecked over the lighter brown sections of fur. She had not seen this garment in so long, yet she knew every single fibre as if each were embedded into her skin and in a way it was a part of her skin...
"It is," Will grunted, leaning his forehead against hers.
"But you-"
"Only because I knew Jones would search you for it." He murmured, "But I was always going to give it back to you. It's only right."
"Will-"
"I know the bond is broken, but Tia Dalma said having your pelt would help buy you more time. And I know it will never be enough to make up for the hurt I've done to you all these years but at least it's a start-"
"Will hold on-"
"I'm…I'm not like Jones or your father…" he gulped as he remembered with horrible clarity the burnt selkie pelt in Cutler Beckett's office, "No matter who you choose to love whether it be me or someone else, your soul…your heart… they will always be yours and no one has the right to take that from you."
Peggy stared at Will, tears streaming down her cheeks, though this time they were not only tears of sorrow. No. Instead, she could feel something extraordinary welling in her chest, and for one incredible, precious moment, she felt the constant ache of the broken bond ebb slightly like the lowering tide.
For here he was. Finally, after so many months of looking at that selfish, oblivious stranger who had broken her heart, she could see him.
Her Will Turner. Her kind, sweet, considerate, if a bit dramatic and overbearing, Will.
The boy who had carried her to that forge and gave her a home, no questions asked, after she had been washed up on that beach like discarded trash. The young lad who had comforted her when he caught her crying after being teased by the other villagers, then gotten himself in trouble picking a fight to defend her honour. The slightly awkward but determined young man who would sneak out from the forge between his duties to pick her flowers to brighten up her room whenever she was bedridden from terrible cramps. The young man who had struggled tooth and nail against bloodthirsty pirates to stop them from hurting her.
He was finally back. She could see him again. She had been so afraid that he had disappeared into that 'selfish, backstabbing whelp' as Jack so often had put it. But no. Her William had just been hidden all along.
She wrapped her arms back around him again and squeezed him tight.
"Thank you," she whispered into his ear, shutting her eyes.
"Peg-"
"No, really, thank you."
Thank you for showing me you're still in there.
Will frowned as her voice echoed in his mind, though he did not feel her mouth move by his ear.
He opened his mouth to speak of this strange thing when-
WHAM! SPLASH!
Will and Peggy both gasped as a wave hit the bow of the Dutchman hard, bouncing the two of them up for a moment before crashing them both down.
Will grunted as he fell onto his back, Peggy on top of him, held tight in his arms. Luckily, they had the wooden teeth of the bowsprit on either side, stopping them from tipping over into the blue.
"Will?" Peggy winced as she gingerly opened her eyes, only to feel his Adam's apple bobbing beneath his short scruff of beard, right next to her nose.
She looked up and to her great surprise, saw a smile spread across Will's tearstained face as he shook with soft laughter mixed with grunts and groans of pain.
He couldn't help it. All that tension he had felt had just snapped out of him with that random jolt, even though his back still ached from its earlier injuries.
"Shh! Will" Peggy hissed, pressing a hand over his chortling mouth, though the corners of her own could not help but quirk upwards as well. "Will if they hear you laughing-"
"Sorry, sorry." Will quickly gulped down on the sound, his head melting back into the wood as he reached up to gently push a wet copper curl out of the way of her face.
The sparkle of amusement in his brown eyes softened tenderly as they roved over every feature, taking in her grey-blue eyes, her lashes, her freckles…her hair…god, her hair, backlit as the sun peeked through a cloud and bathed her in pale gold, igniting the fiery highlights of her drying copper curls.
Peggy shivered slightly as she felt his thumb trace her lips, the touch of his rough fingers so featherlight it almost felt like a gentle gust of wind.
"I meant what I said." He murmured, cupping her cheek as he nuzzled his nose against hers, "I'm not giving up on you. No matter what you say."
There was a silence as they just stared at one another, noses brushing, lips inches apart as they breathed in one another's air.
In the distance, they could hear the hurried shouts and Bosun's whistles as the crew of the Flying Dutchman worked on overdrive, driven by their fear of their dread Captain's wrath as he stalked around the deck. The slower thud of his pincer peg leg was easily recognisable amidst the hustle and bustle of the crew, as were his growls of frustration.
But for once, Peggy did not feel afraid at the sound.
It was hard to feel afraid when she felt Will's warm hands draw around her as he pulled her to lie down on her side with him, his eyes still locked with hers, one hand tracing the contours of her face as he tried to memorise every freckle and every line.
It took everything Will had not to press his mouth against hers as he leaned in and pressed their foreheads together. He knew this went beyond what the code of friendship would condone. If they had been back in Port Royal, tongues would wag viciously and everyone would talk and call him rotten and a scoundrel. But for once, he did not care.
Wherever the Dead Man's Chest was, he only had one shot at getting it. If he failed and Jones killed either of them, then this could very well be their last moment.
Just them.
No work, no chores, no drunken landlord, no pirates, no curses or undead monsters…Just him and Peggy side by side as if they were curled up in bed on a lazy morning or lying on the beach to watch the clouds roll by.
And there was no way in hell Will was going to let anyone take this from him.
"When we reach Isla Cruces," Peggy murmured, snapping him out of his stupor. "Leave me behind and take my pelt with you."
"Peggy-" Will's brow furrowed, but she put a finger to his lips.
"No, now you listen to me. I'm…I'm not giving up." She whispered firmly, and Will felt his heart soar in relief as he caught sight of the familiar sharp spark in her blue-grey eyes "But I still have the Devil's mark. If I leave with you, that poison will kill me, and if he finds out that I have my pelt, he'll also kill me. Your best chance will be to leave me behind and get the chest with the heart. Once you have the heart, you and Jack will have the bargaining power you need."
"And what will you do?" Will frowned, doing his best to push down on the flutters in his stomach as he revelled in her touch against his mouth. "When he finds you are on the ship without me in toe-"
"I…I'll think of something," Peggy cut across him. "Knowing the captain, he won't kill me. He'll want to wait till you're back in his clutches so he can make an example of one of us. He'll probably pick on me." She added with a bitter sigh. "He's already had you whipped, and until now, I've done exactly what he's ordered, which will have pissed him off. I think he was looking forward to humiliating me in front of the crew, but since I've been behaving so far, he's not gotten a taste of that selkie blood he's been hankering for."
"You sound so sure." Will grimaced. He almost hated how blasé she was about the whole sordid mess. Her voice was so casual, as if she were discussing the passing clouds.
"I know this Devil, William." Peggy sighed as she wriggled into a more comfortable position. "I know him as well as I know my own shadow." She rubbed her chest as her heart finally began to calm and the glorious feeling from before slowly seeped away. The ache of the broken bond was still there, now a dull, ever-present force that she had finally gotten used to. Or was it just easier to bear when her pelt was with her, bolstering her soul?
According to Will, Tia-Dalma seemed to think that having her pelt would help slow down her eventual demise.
Slowed down but not stopped. She mused sadly.
"I'm beat." She shut her eyes tiredly.
"We should rest." Will nodded, wrapping an arm around her so the top of her head rested under his chin. "Who knows how long we will have till we reach the Chest. Where is Isla Cruces?"
"No clue," Peggy grunted, nuzzling her nose into the underside of his jaw, enjoying the way his rough, short beard scratched against her skin. "All I know is that the place got deserted after missionaries brought in some plague. Dunno if it's died out yet, but I know Jack does his best to avoid it if he can. But if the Heart is on that island, then maybe he'll risk it." Peggy sighed. "Gods, I hope everyone on the Pearl is safe."
"I'm sure they'll be fine." Will murmured into the crown of her head. "They will be. Jack's too desperate for this to all fail."
"I hope so." Peggy sucked in a deep, soothing breath. Will's musky, sooty smell was now tinged with the salt of the sea even as her mind drifted back to a pair of brown kohl-lined eyes and a scent of rum mixed with sweat.
Oh Jack…please be careful.
"AHHCHOO!"
Jack Sparrow swore softly to himself as he wiped his nose on his sleeve.
It was late morning, and the Black Pearl had been making decent headway through the day and night.
He had just given the orders for the day, telling Gibbs to follow Elizabeth's heading as she kept a tight hold and a close watch of his compass. Norrington was on deck, shadowing Annamaria closely.
To Jack's surprise and disgust, the ex-commodore was only too happy to stay close to the ex-smuggler woman like a lost duckling. Just was happening on his ship lately? He had just gotten rid of that sappy whelp pining after his Pegsy and now he had…whatever this thing between Annamaria and the Commodore was. He pulled a face. He didn't even want to know and yet a traitorous small voice in the back of his mind kept sniggering:
"Of course you want to know. You're a nosy bastard that's why."
Well, whatever was going on between the two of them, Jack hoped it would be enough to keep the man in line. Jack had caught sight of Norrington occasionally slithering up to Elizabeth a couple of times. Were they collaborators in some scheme? Jack did not need another betrayal on his ship…not when Annamaria was now pissed at him over the truth about Peggy's situation.
Jack had no other choice. Annamaria would not have let the matter rest until she had the truth. That still did not stop her from being pissed off at him.
"Ye let her go to him?! HIM? Isn't it bad enough that whelp has doomed her once without ye givin' her on a platter to the devil himself?"
Jack sighed as he began to settle the mess that had accumulated on his desk. Usually, Peggy would have been the one to fulfil such a task. She had a way of organising paperwork so fast and efficiently that she would put military personnel to shame.
Not too dissimilar to her birth father, Cutler Beckett, now that Jack thought about it, grimly. Though it had been years since their last meeting, Jack would never forget how neat as a freaking pin that man's desk was. Nor would he forget the ruthless gleam in those grey-blue eyes, not too dissimilar from the glint Peggy got when she was fighting with her sword.
At least she did not inherit that bastard's cold heart. Jack murmured as he picked up the sheet of paper with Will's sketch of Peggy on it.
It was a good likeness. Eerily good. The curls, the freckles, the slope of her shoulders and neck.
Jack remembered those few times he had walked in on Peggy changing in her nook. Even though she almost always screeched and shoved him out like a banshee, he had managed to get a few good peeks in.
If they had been strangers and had met at a tavern pub, he would have eagerly pursued her to his bed. She had a pretty face, and the freckles all over her gave one the urge to run their hands over her skin. She was just the right amount of soft flesh in the right areas, especially her lovely arse.
However, if Jack had to pick a feature to admire the most, it was probably her bright copper curls. Oh, he certainly liked his blondes and brunettes. But those copper curls, so messy and wild, but also soft and warm, you could happily lose your hands in them.
And yet no matter how much he looked at Peggy, he did not feel the urges he usually felt for the warmth of a woman's flesh. It was weird. He had befriended and bedded many women in his lifetime, but Pegsy was a no-go zone that every fibre of his being rejected despite her not even sharing a single drop of blood with him.
Maybe it was because whenever he looked at her, he could still see the child who would smirk like a little shit and yank open the curtains of his quarters to chastise him after he woke up with a well-deserved hangover?
Well, even if he never would bed Peggy, he could still appreciate looking at those copper curls from a distance. Attraction or not, he had always liked them. How often had he watched the girl dash across the deck with the bright gold highlights shining in the light of the sun, making it look like a living fire flickering on the deck? In a wet and cold world of the sea, even a glimpse of such fire from a distance brought comfort.
Peggy had said she had inherited the colour from her mother.
Well, if that were true, then it was no wonder a bastard like Beckett was so keen on keeping his selkie lover trapped in his cage. The man might dress like a nobleman, but he had the selfish, treasure-hoarding heart of a pirate.
Just like someone else Jack knew.
Though the pirate loathed to admit it, the whelp did have a talent for art. Had he been brought up in wealthier circles of society, he may have been able to pursue it as a proper career. Just the boy's rotten luck that he had a pirate for a father, a mother poor as dirt, and was tossed aside to a drunken master to serve for the last few years as a lowly blacksmith.
Well, not so lowly. Jack had seen Will's handiwork, and even he had to admit it was bloody good. If the boy owned his forge and sold his work properly under his name, the pirate had no doubt the lad could easily make a handsome living.
Jack's brown eyes narrowed as they wandered down to the scrawl of the words "My Peggy" at the bottom of the page.
The ruddy cheek of the whelp.
"His" Peggy?
HIS?
That little rat dared to call Peggy 'his' after he had tossed her aside for six months in favour of his pouty, noble brat?
Jack grimaced as he remembered the way the younger man had wept that night by Peggy's bedside, before they had arrived at Tia Dalma's shack.
Gibbs was right about the boy being genuine in his remorse, but it did little to soothe Jack's anger towards him. The fact that it took the idiot nearly killing his cabin girl to realise what he was feeling…
If I ever see that miserable whelp again, I am going to take a leaf out of Barbossa's book and flog 'im. I'm sure the cat o' nines are somewhere in the hold.
Jack never did like the idea of beating his crew as a form of punishment. But with Will…well, that stupid boy brought out the beast in him something fierce when he wasn't being gullible or useful.
As for Peggy…
Jack sighed as he traced the outline of Peggy's smiling face on the drawing. So different from the tears he had seen that night he had handed her back to Davy Jones.
He shivered at the memory.
Jack usually did not feel guilty about manipulating others to get his way, but even he could not deny he felt a little bad for being so cold towards the poor selkie. He had never seen her look so scared, not even when she had been a little girl.
The fear Barbossa and his men had inspired in her was nothing compared to the abject terror on her face when Davy Jones had dragged her around like a ragdoll.
It was almost heartbreaking to see her cower and cringe like a beaten puppy.
But if Jack had acted any differently, then Jones would have suspected her of treachery from the start, and his cabin girl would most definitely be dead.
If that broken bond with the brat had not already killed her by now.
Jack picked up the picture of Peggy, folded it, and tucked it safely in his belt. Despite his best efforts, he could not find anything to frame the damn thing, so he supposed he should keep it on him until he had the time.
There was the creaking of a door, and Jack turned around and smirked on autopilot:
"Ah Pegsy, got breakfast have you? Oh…it's you Kitty-Cat." His face fell as, instead of seeing his old cabin girl, he saw the dark curls of Katrina Beckett standing in the doorway, the white cat Orion draped over her shoulders, while she struggled to carry a tray laden with his breakfast rations.
"S-Sorry, Captain Sparrow. Cook asked me to bring you this." Katrina mumbled, and an embarrassed flush spread over her porcelain cheeks.
"Yes, yes, good. Bring it here then." Jack gestured to the dining table behind him, feeling his chest catch slightly as he observed the young thirteen-year-old girl lay down her precious cargo where he had instructed.
It was nearly spooky how close the two girls resembled one another, even without the red hair.
"Is everything alright, sir?" Katrina asked, peering curiously at his face.
"Everything's fine." Jack quickly shook himself as he strode towards the table. "Speaking of, come, sit." He pulled out a chair with his foot. "Join me, would ye,"
"I-I don't know, sir, it wouldn't be proper-"
"Never stopped your sister." Jack grinned and was not disappointed when Katrina's eyes brightened with curiosity.
"Peggy ate with you often?"
"Oh yeah,"
"But she was your cabin girl."
"Aye, she was."
"B-but I thought cabin boys or girls had to eat with the crew."
"And Pegsy did, most times." Jack nodded, though secretly he was pleased. Good, the girl was learning her place. "But I like some company at breakfast…plus I want to ask ye a few things before the rest of the crew start blastin' off in me ear." He sat down in his favourite chair and quickly kicked out another one.
Demurely, Katrina sat down in the proffered chair, though she was swift to use her sash to wipe down the seat before she put her weight onto the threadbare upholstery.
God, she is like a porcelain doll. Jack grimaced to himself as he watched the young adolescent timidly pick at a grape, her back ramrod straight and poised even as she chanced a peek up at him.
"W-what is it you'd like to know, Captain Sparrow?" She asked cautiously as she settled Orion in her lap and began stroking her fingers through his white fur.
"I don't know." Jack shrugged as he took a piece of salted jerky with his bare hands and tore off a piece with his teeth, much to her distaste.
"Now you've sailed on a proper pirate ship, what do ye think?"
"It's…It's not so different from the Speedwell to be honest." Katrina shrugged innocently. "I-I mean, of course, being pirates, it's all…um different, but the work it's…it seems to be the same."
"That's because work is work." Jack plucked an apple from his platter and bit into it. "Aye. There is the truth. Navy, merchant or pirate, don't matter. Once we're out on the water, we're all the bloody same."
"That's not what my father seems to think," Katrina muttered bitterly, and Jack snorted.
"That's 'cause your father hasn't done an honest days work in his life. An' no, love, I ain't countin' pushing pencils or countin' his coins. I mean real work with his hands." Jack wiped his mouth with his sleeve and reached for his ale. "And what 'bout the crew? Have ye seen or heard anything you think is interesting?"
"Define interesting." Katrina quirked a brow.
"Whatever made those waggling ears of yours perk up." Jack smirked as her cheeks flushed an angry pink "Oh please, you think I didn't notice you trying to eavesdrop on everyone while you were on deck yesterday. You and Pegsy have a lot of gifts, darlin', but subtlety is not one of them."
"I…I didn't mean to pry." Katrina gulped as she did her best to school her expression into calm nonchalance like her father had taught her. "Only…I heard my sister's name mentioned a few times-"
"By whom?" Jack's eyes sharpened ever so slightly.
"By Annamaria," Katrina mumbled. "She was talking with Mister Gibbs. She sounded upset. Kept saying 'that disgusting whelp, how could he put Peggy through all that?' and Mister Gibbs kept saying 'there's nothing we can do. The selkie's bond is a sacred thing, only they can fix it,' whatever that is supposed to mean."
"Ahh, I see." Jack grimaced. Great, just what he needed, more information about selkies getting through to everyone.
"But selkies are not real, are they?" Katrina frowned. "My governess told me they were mythical creatures; some books even classify them as a kind of faerie."
"Oh, do they now?" Jack smirked as he took a swig of his small tankard of light ale "That wasn't what I was taught. Selkies are what we sailors call the Children of the Ocean, subjects of all the old sea gods, such as Poseidon and Calypso, and all that. Now, most o' them live in Scotland or Ireland and up North, but legend has it that there are clans of them all over the world." Jack gestured to the small standing globe tucked away in the corner of his cabin "There used to be some in the Caribbean too…till a little over twenty years ago."
"What happened to them?" Katrina frowned. She knew Jack Sparrow was an odd man, but why was he talking about mythical creatures as if they were as real as the air they breathed?
"The East India Trading Company wiped them out." Jack shrugged. "No one knows which side started it, all we know is that somethin' nasty happened and the EITC sanctioned a purge on all Selkies here in the Caribbean."
"That's not…My father would never-" Katrina gulped as Jack fixed her in his piercing stare. It was chilling how such a flamboyant and odd rake of a man could become so serious and shrewd in a heartbeat.
Her face paled as Jack raised a torn chunk of bread to his mouth, the branded "P" for pirate on his forearm stark against his grubby skin.
Then she remembered all the tariffs in the Captain's cabin on the Speedwell and Jimmy's broken arm. Amidst their arguing, the boy had told her it was two Company ships that had gunned down his mother's vessel.
His mother…
Jimmy was no older than she was and had been living on a ship his entire life, since he was a baby, raised by pirates.
That meant her father had knowingly ordered his men to shoot down a ship known to harbour children…
"No. Yer father didn't order the Selkie purge." Jack muttered, drawing the young girl out of her horror; however, when Katrina looked once again into his eyes, she didn't see much kindness in there "If my memory serves me right, he wasn't the director in charge of this area at the time. But that didn't mean he didn't profit off it."
"What do you mean?" Katrina gulped, her heart sinking as Jack sighed.
"Yer father never told you HOW you and Pegsy were related, did he?"
"He…" Katrina's brow furrowed as she tried to recollect. But for some reason, she couldn't recall any actual conversation about her sister's origins apart from her being a half-sibling lost at sea who had become a pirate. Her father had always seemed to deflect any mention of her sister when Katrina was around. It seemed as if he were afraid the mere mention of his eldest would disrupt everything. "He said Peggy's mother was a commoner from the Caribbean."
"Did he mention where she came from?"
"I thought she was from one of the Colonies or was a servant in his care."
"That's what he told you?"
"I…I don't…no…no he didn't. I just…that's what I guessed since no one would tell me more about the situation." Katrina mumbled, taking another grape from the platter to avoid the embarrassment of opening her mouth again.
"Well, she wasn't a commoner. She was a selkie" Jack rolled his eyes. "The last selkie of the Caribbean left after the purge. Yer father picked her up on one of his voyages and kept her like a trophy in one of his hideaways on one of these islands, under lock and key. Not sure which one. Pegsy never does like talkin' about her time there. Then again, who would like to be constantly reminded of their imprisonment-"
"But my father would never-"
"Oh wouldn't he?" Jack quirked a brow "What was that ye said to me? He wouldn' let you leave the house without permission, an' wouldn't let you have a real friend that he didn't choose? Y'know who else gets treated like that love? Prisoners...an' pets. Though I reckon they never get to sleep in as fancy a cage as you or ye sister."
Katrina bit her lip. She supposed Jack had a point. If she felt so trapped in her life as the legitimate daughter of a Lord, then what would it have been like for her sister when she was born out of wedlock?
Katrina was the heiress to her father's fortune. She had to make public appearances to make a good impression on any future suitors and families that might seek to use her to gain access to her father's business.
But Peggy…she was the bastard offspring of her father and his lover. Her existence in their father's life would be seen as an embarrassment by high society. Why wouldn't their father keep her cloistered away out of sight to save face?
Was that why he was so insistent on Peggy marrying Mister Sloane? Sloane was a gentleman of common birth but had risen through the Company on his own merit. He would never be a suitable match for a noblewoman like Katrina or Elizabeth, but for Peggy, he would be an ideal candidate.
"B…but if it's freedom from my father Peggy sought, then why not marry Mister Sloane?" She wondered aloud, "He would never treat her like our father did, I'm sure. Also, he is a pirate himself, so they'd have a lot in common. As far as gentlemen go he's a perfect match for her on paper-"
"Because like you, yer sister never likes to do things when she feels forced into 'em" Jack grumbled "Believe me I've tried. Never try to force Peggy Blake into anything or you'll be eating sand before you can grovel for forgiveness. As for your buddy Sloane…well…he's a fine fellow I'm sure, but there's no hope for him no matter what he does. Yer sister's heart already belongs to another, and that fella did a fantastic job at breakin' it after playin' around with it for so long." he added bitterly.
"Who was the man?" Katrina blinked. "My sister never mentioned a lover, and, forgive me captain, but you don't seem her type." She braced herself for the scolding but was surprised when Jack quirked a brow at her.
"Says who? Ye ain't even known Pegsy that long."
"Yes, but if you were lovers, then the crew would know all about the two of you, wouldn't they? I mean they call her your girl, but never your woman."
Jack chuckled in amusement.
"Yer a sharp one aren't ye? Like yer damn father." He muttered under his breath before coughing "But you are correct. Pegsy ain't my woman. Nor will that ever happen. I mean she is a gorgeous woman, don' get me wrong, but she's my cabin girl first and foremost. After all, ye shouldn't shit where ye eat, should you?"
"But you care about her a great deal?" Katrina ignored the disgusting idiom, even though it made her feel faintly sick.
"She's…" Jack paused for a moment and Katrina thought she saw something sad flash across the pirate's brown eyes, only for it to be hidden quickly as he coughed on a piece of jerky "She's me cabin girl. That's all. An' a good one too. You don' get many pirates willin' to stand by you even when the devil is houndin' ye down."
"Speaking of devils, who is this 'whelp' the crew keep talking about?" Katrina frowned "Is he the one that broke her heart?"
"Oh aye, he is. Dirty little rat." Jack's face twisted into a scowl, but Katrina did not feel as afraid anymore. She could tell the expression was not for her.
"Was he one of the crew? Or was he another rival pirate?" she probed carefully and to her surprise Jack snorted.
"Funny you should ask Kitty-Cat. Since he's technically working for your father, too."
"He is? But who…" Katrina's voice fell away as pieces began to click into place in her head.
The two men bristling at her father's dinner…her father's dealings…Elizabeth's ire at her fiancé leaving her behind to go on a secret mission for Jack…Gibbs and Annamaria's hushed whispers.
"Mister Turner? HE's Peggy's lover?" she gaped in horror. But that…what? That couldn't be. Mister Turner was Peggy's foster brother; he was already engaged to Miss Elizabeth. He seemed such a polite and kind man. How could a man like him be capable of fooling around with her sister and breaking her heart to enter an engagement with a noblewoman like Elizabeth?
But then she remembered her father's dinner, the way her sister and Mister Turner had held hands under the table. Katrina had thought it was to help rein Mister Turner's mounting temper at Mister Sloane's taunts, but what if…but no. That didn't make sense…
Seeing her confusion, Jack rolled his eyes.
"Lover no. They ain't lovers. But they are givin' one another the big soppy eyes. Yes, I know it's disgusting isn't it?"
"But how?" Katrina asked. "Mister Turner didn't seem like the type to fool around like that?"
"He's not." Jack agreed bitterly. "Not knowingly."
"What does that mean?" Katrina asked sharply.
"It means…" Jack gulped down on the swear words he had only ever heard his hag of a grandmother use in dire situations and instead said, "It means sometimes, a man is too stupid to see a truly precious treasure in front of him until someone else tries to take it from him."
"Huh?" Katrina frowned, but before Jack could answer, the door to the Captain's room burst open and Gibbs strode inside, looking harried. "Captain, we need ye outside."
"Can it wait. I'm busy," Jack grunted through a mouthful of food, but Gibbs just sighed.
"It's Jimmy, Cap'in. He's tried havin' a go at Miss Elizabeth."
"Good grief! That lad!" Jack sighed in exasperation as he slowly rose to his feet "Go on, what did Future Missus Whelp do this time?"
"Nothin' sir." Gibbs looked equally put out. "But the crew have been gossipin' and they believe that the reason…" he paused before catching sight of Katrina still seated at the table with Jack.
"Keep goin' Gibbs it's fine." The captain waved him on.
Gibbs sucked in a deep breath.
"Well…he found out about Pegsy's uh…situation and now he's blamin' Miss Elizabeth…" Gibbs avoided Katrina's eye as he added "he also seems to be under the impression that Elizabeth kidnapped Miss Kitty here and that's why the Company attacked his ma's ship."
"Kidnap?" Katrina's face paled.
"Aye. That be the story that was goin' around Tortuga accordin' to Anna" Gibbs nodded, "From the sounds of it, we made it outta that den of vermin in time."
"Indeed," Jack muttered in relief.
"But-But Lizzy didn't kidnap me!" Katrina spluttered, "I was the one who ran-"
"We know, love. We know." Jack silenced her with a wave of his hand "But a rumour among pirates gets around faster than that damned monkey after his banana."
"What monkey?" Katrina blinked, utterly bewildered.
But Jack only ignored her confusion as he turned back to Gibbs, his expression serious. "Where's Jimmy now?"
"Down in the kitchens, scrubbin' pots an' pans." Gibbs sighed. "I couldn' keep him in the brig in his condition. Also, since he didn't really start a fight, I figured that more chores would be good enough punishment fer now. Keep 'im busy."
"Good. He hates scrubbing. It'll teach him to blast his mouth off without thinkin'," Jack agreed, now turning to Katrina. "You, Kitty-Cat, go down and help Jimmy with the scrubbing"
"But I-"
"You ain't in trouble girl." Jack steamrolled over the top of her "But Jimmy ain't in a state to be left alone. I need ye to keep an eye on him. Two eyes and at least one ear if ye can spare one from its wagglin'." He added with a grin as she flushed pink in embarrassment. "Now of ye trot. Go on. Captain's orders. An' take yer hairy beast with you!" He added, grimacing at the sleepy white cat in the girl's arms.
It was looking a little fatter than before. Must have been gorging itself on all the mice in the hold.
As soon as she was out of the room Gibbs sighed.
"Was that wise Jack? Lettin' her know the truth like that?"
"Dunno." Jack shrugged as he plucked a second apple on his tray and tossed it to his Quartermaster. "But if she's anythin' like Pegsy the god honest truth usually works the best. Can't have her actin' the fool because some other stupid blighter is spreadin' lies on me ship. If she is going to be an idiot, then at least do it based on the truth. That way, she can be an idiot on her own merit and not someone else's, savvy?"
"I…I suppose." Gibbs shook his head. He didn't get what his captain was saying, but he guessed it would make sense soon enough. "Though we gotta do something about Miss Elizabeth. The crew ain't exactly happy ter have a lady like her aboard."
"They're happy enough with little Kitty." Jack frowned.
"Well, yes, but Kitty's different." Gibbs coughed. "She's alright. Might be soft an' a bit pampered tis true, but she minds her manners and gets on with the work like everyone else. Not ter mention if anyone lays a finger on even one hair on her head then we all know Peggy's sure to skin 'em alive." Gibb's eyes hardened "Miss Elizabeth on the other hand…" Gibbs sucked in a sharp breath. "Jack, I don't like speaking ill of a lady, but if the crew doesn't see her gettin' of her behind and pulling her weight like Pegsy, Kitty or Anna, their patience is gonna run dry very fast. An' there won' be much you or I could do to protect her if push comes to shove-"
"Your concerns are noted, Mister Gibbs" Jack nodded with a small smirk ", but ye needn't worry about protecting Miss Swann. Once we've located the chest I've half a mind to dump her at the next port. Her and her whelp… if he still wants her." Jack sneered, patting the folded sketch on his belt. "Or if she doesn't want him? Then perhaps I might be amenable to another arrangement-"
"Jack." Gibbs's eyes widened in horror "Please don' tell me ye doin' this all on purpose? It's bad enough you brought three women on board this time. But Elizabeth, she's not exactly popular at the moment. An' lettin her just hang around and do nothin' else but stare at that compass, a that's bound to stir up trouble an' put her in danger. All this for a bit of petty revenge-"
"What revenge? What revenge? Dear Miss Swann is perfectly free to pick up a mop and scrub if she wishes to. 'Snot my fault she ain't as proactive as the others-" Jack's eyes twinkled mischievously.
"Jack. You know most nobby ladies ye bring aboard usually won' take the initiative to work. Yes little Kitty is different but given who her sister is I ain't surprised." Gibbs sighed and put his hands on his hips. "But Elizabeth? Ye clearly settin her up to fall-"
"Fine. Maybe I do want to knock her down a peg or two." Jack grumbled, like a child been caught stealing from the cookie jar, "But it's only fair. She knocked our Pegsy from her perch an' took all she had without a care; now she's going to get a nice taste of some of her own medicine from me. I can't touch the whelp. Pegsy would kill me if I did. But she never said anythin' about touchin' Elizabeth-"
"So ye goin' to make Miss Elizabeth step out on her marriage vows, just to get vengeance for Peggy?" Gibbs rolled his eyes. He didn't know whether to find his captain's fondness for his cabin girl endearing or scary sometimes.
And ter think that lass was so afraid he'd hate her forever for betrayin' him?
"Not married yet." Jack corrected his quartermaster, "An' that's not the only reason. I ain't had a woman in a while. An' she might say she's desperate to save her dear William but I've seen the hunger in her eye when I'm around. She's a beautiful creature, I like beautiful creatures-"
"Ya shouldn't bed her Cap'in." Gibbs snapped irritably.
"Says who?" Jack blinked in surprise at his old friend. It was not often he gave his opinion on his choice of 'partners'. Usually they kept their opinions to themselves, unless it was a dire situation.
"As yer quartermaster I says nothin'" Gibbs rolled his eyes "But as yer friend, I'm sayin' watch out for that woman. Keepin' her as an ally is one thing. Getting' revenge on her…well I don' like it, but neither do I like her part in breakin' Peggy's heart so I can't comment. But letting her into your bed? No Jack. Tha's where you've got to draw the line. An' not for anyone or anythin' besides yerself. She ain' like Peggy-"
"Pegsy never shared my bed." Jack grimaced in disgust. "Well, not in that way. She did sleep next ter me once and her bloody kicking kept me up all night-"
"I don' mean like that Jack. Pegsy is charmin' an' she can carve a man in two when her temper's roused. But she's a softie at heart." Gibbs waved him off. "But Miss Elizabeth… she's all langrage and sharp edges. She already used her feminine wiles on ye once Cap'in. I have no doubt she'd use them again if she wanted to. Just keep yer guard up around her, alright? Women are a crafty lot when they want somethin' and Miss Elizabeth… She's schemin' somethin' you mark my words. Her an' that Norrington-"
"Oh, I know all about that. Don't you worry." Jack smirked. "Trust me. It'll be a sad day for the world when a brat like Miss Swann gets the best of a man like me."
"Well…if that's how ye feel then I sincerely hope that day never comes for ye, Cap'in. I really do."
What is going on with everyone right now? The way they're all talking and whispering…and that boy.
Elizabeth Swann scowled as she remembered too clearly the angry face of the injured young thirteen-year-old as he shouted obscenely at her.
Just who did the little brat think he was shouting at her out of nowhere? She had heard rumours that Jack's nephew Jimmy was on the ship, but she would have thought Jack would have kept a tighter leash on the lad. Or at least the boy would know to respect his elders and betters. Wasn't hierarchy important even on pirate ships?
Barbossa may have been an awful man, but even Elizabeth could not help but admire how he was able to pull an entire crew of cursed pirates into line.
Must be because Jimmy is Jack's blood relation—nepotism at its finest. Elizabeth pouted, though that thought was almost enough to make her head spin.
Jack Sparrow…an uncle. Jack Sparrow…had a family?
It was so obscene and bizarre, and yet was it though? Despite being a terrible womaniser, Jack seemed to have a soft spot for the boy…or maybe it was because he was so immature himself that he got along with children. Yes, that had to be it.
And as for Katrina…Well, none of the men had yet to lay a finger or be crude to her even when Sloane wasn't around.
Of course, that vulgar boy Jimmy was snappy with the girl, but Katrina was more than capable of holding her own. For a girl sheltered quite a lot from the outside world, she was quite sharp-tongued.
And as for Jack…She could tell from the pirate's reaction to the Letters of Marque that he hated Cutler Beckett but somehow that did not translate across to the youngest Beckett daughter. Then again…the way he sometimes looked at Katrina…it reminded Elizabeth eerily of the softness she had seen in the man's eyes every time he had looked at Peggy.
Elizabeth's face twisted as she did her best to suppress the bitter, squirming feeling in her gut at the mere thought of the selkie woman. What had once been warm feelings towards her old friend had recently curdled to something nastily hot and bubbling like burning lumpy slop.
Elizabeth was not quite sure what she made of the mutterings about the selkie. Some seemed to believe she was sick and dying from some unknown ailment (though given the diseases that floated at sea with the men, was it so surprising?). Some men seemed to be under the impression that she had turned traitor on Jack and joined the crew of this 'Davy Jones' creature on his so-called ship the Flying Dutchman (Did Jack really think such a story would fool her?) while others seemed to believe Peggy was infiltrating Jones's ship on Jack's orders.
But there was something that all the crewmen (and Annamaria) seemed to agree on, and that was that Will had broken Peggy's heart, and it was all Elizabeth's fault. Elizabeth could see the disgust in most of the crew's eyes whenever they looked at her…if they ever deigned to look at her at all.
Annamaria, in particular, was most keen to avoid interacting with her, treating the noblewoman as if she had the plague and even ensuring she got the evening shift so she would not have to talk to Elizabeth before turning in for the night.
And now that the boy had made a scene and accused her of hurting the Captain's beloved Cabin Girl, the rest of the crew were giving her a wide berth as well.
Well, almost everyone.
"A penny for your thoughts?" The familiar drawl of James Norrington broke Elizabeth out of her musings.
"Just…thinking…this morning with that boy-how dare he accuse me of kidnap?" Elizabeth scowled, and Norrington snorted.
"Take no heed of his temper. From what I have gathered from the crew, it is not you he is furious at." Norrington leaned on the railing with his elbows, staring out at the blue open ocean. "His family and his home just got taken from him in one fell swoop. His mother could be dead for all he knows. His anger is understandable, though it is uncalled for that he should choose you to focus it on."
"I suppose…" Elizabeth bit her lip. She hadn't thought about it like that. Now that she thought on it, the idea that she might have kidnapped Katrina and brought disaster on their heads was not too far-fetched.
From what little Katrina had told her about life with her father, he did seem to love his youngest child dearly…even if he was controlling to the point of suffocating.
Would it be a stretch for him to assume she, Elizabeth, had taken his daughter hostage to hurt him for what he had put her and Will through? After all, Will had already run off with Peggy and…
And then, according to the crew, he spent most of his time chasing the selkie and acting like a pathetic dog pining for its master.
Speaking of dogs and their leashes…
"James…" Elizabeth frowned "May I ask you something?"
"You may." Norrington acquiesced with a tilt of his head, hands now folded primly behind his back like he had so often done when in uniform.
"How did you and Annamaria get so close?" Elizabeth's brow furrowed "Six months ago, you would have gladly thrown yourself off a cliff before taking orders from a pirate, much less a woman."
"Would I?" Norrington quirked a brow in return, though to Elizabeth's relief, the expression was not stern. It was not too dissimilar from the few times she had seen him relax during the dinner parties at her father's estates. "You think it is her femininity I would take offence to? Well, forgive me, but that is not true. I have no trouble with hearing a woman's opinion when called for. After all, a woman may boss her husband, brother or father around in the comfort and privacy of her home, may they not?" He quirked a brow, and Elizabeth felt herself smile sadly as she recalled all the moments she had urged her father to take better care of his health at the dinner table in front of Norrington and their dear family friends.
"As for her occupation…" Norrington continued, "Well…I won't deny sailing under a pirate's colours does chafe me, especially one like Jack Sparrow." He added with a bitter snort as he stared back out over the ocean. "But working for Anna…Miss Annamaria," he corrected himself with a slight cough as Elizabeth quirked a brow at him, "well, it has given me a new perspective on things. For one, I have learned that while she may be a pirate, that is not all she is as a person. She is a fair employer, a good aunt and sister, and a dutiful daughter. Perhaps her temper gets the best of her sometimes, but she has morals, and even if I do not agree with everything she says or does, she does stick to them faithfully. In many ways, I can see why she and Miss Blake get on so well."
"What?" Elizabeth felt her blood turn to ice in her veins.
Norrington, however, had not noticed Elizabeth's stiffening beside him as he quietly continued.
"It was Miss Blake, after all, who recommended me to Anna's employ."
"Did she now?" Elizabeth clipped through gritted teeth, and Norrington nodded, and to Elizabeth's horror, the man's eyes seemed to soften as he fiddled on his belt for a greying handkerchief to wipe his sweaty face.
"She said it was to make amends for her and Sparrow's escape, since it cost me my commission and livelihood."
"Oh…that was…generous of her." Elizabeth's fingers curled and flexed on the ship's railing.
There it was again—that damn selkie. Even Norrington was under her spell now?
"Is something the matter?" Norrington asked, suddenly concerned.
"What? Oh no. it's fine…only" Elizabeth bit her lip as she sighed "If I may be quite frank, I would rather not speak of Peggy."
"Ahh…" Norrington's lip curled knowingly as understanding dawned. "Tis awful, isn't it, for the shoe to be on the other foot for once."
"I do not know what you are talking about." Elizabeth snapped, but quickly reigned herself in.
"Oh, don't you?" Norrington's smile was stiff now, his tone more clipped and formal as was his custom when talking to noblemen he wasn't particularly fond of speaking to "You think I don't know what it was like to watch the fiancé I cared the world about, chase after another person's affections so brazenly?"
"Th-that was-" Elizabeth spluttered, cheeks flushing as she felt herself get caught in Norrington's cold stare. "That was different…"
"Was it?" Norrington scoffed, "Was it truly?"
"Well, of course, but that was only because-"
"Because you didn't love me when you agreed to be engaged to me?" Norrington finished bluntly and was not surprised to see Elizabeth turn her face down to the ocean splashing against the hull below. "You seem surprised, Miss Swann. Did you take me for a fool? I was fully aware of your lack of feeling towards me, even when you first agreed to marry me. I knew you were only agreeing to our union because you wanted to save Mister Turner."
"Then…then why did you-"
"Because I had hoped that you would honour your word like a true lady and that in time after we were wed, you might come to know me better and perhaps grow to love me for who I was." He sighed heavily, "But alas, it was clear to anyone with working eyes that such an arrangement was doomed from the start. Yet still I hung onto hope like a fool. Much like poor Miss Blake, though, I hear through the grapevine that perhaps her affections for Mister Turner might not be so one-sided as we all thought."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Elizabeth snapped.
"It means that if all the rumours are indeed correct, Mister Turner has finally gotten his rotten head out of the sand, has seen the damage he has caused and accepted responsibility for his actions." Norrington sneered. "A bit late in the day, perhaps. But between you and me, Elizabeth, it is never too late to learn to take accountability for one's wrongdoings."
"Wrongdoings? What on earth are you talking about? Will and Peggy are not-they would not."
"No, I would not peg Miss Blake as the type to go out of her way to steal another woman's man. Despite living amongst cutthroats and liars, she is a surprisingly honest woman, very loyal to her friends. Your current fiancé, however…" Norrington's smirk grew wider "Well, given how easily he was willing to change tack the second the wind changed in his favour, can you honestly say you trust him to be faithful?"
"How dare you?!" Elizabeth snarled, "Will loves me! He asked me to marry him?"
"Yes, he did." Norrington hardly blinked even in the face of Elizabeth's anger. Indeed, he seemed almost pleased with it "Two months after that fateful day at Fort Charles."
"So?"
"So why did he wait?" Norrington asked, sounding more like a stern teacher trying to guide his stubborn pupil towards the answer right in front of their nose. "Why not ask you to marry him then and there on that bluff the day he told you he loved you? Or the day after? Or even within the week if he had wanted to make the appropriate preparations. One would have thought he would have wasted no time at all getting a ring on your finger if he were that desperate to be with you. And if my memory served me right, didn't he hole himself up in his master's apartment for a whole two weeks before being summoned to your father's house to discuss your courtship?"
"He-he had to sort out things at the Forge" Elizabeth's face was almost puce in her fury. "After Peggy left, he was the only one looking after that place."
"Yes I daresay learning to clean up after himself might have taken him a couple of days to get used to." Norrington waved her off "But fourteen days of no contact with the woman he had just declared his love to in front of everyone? Not even passing on a message via one of the local lads? Even you must admit, Elizabeth, that doesn't speak of someone eager to enter a courtship."
"Well, maybe he had a lot on his mind he had to sort through?!" Elizabeth growled.
"Yes. Feelings about Miss Blake, I have no doubt." Norrington cut in swiftly, "Captain Barbossa maroons you, yet Mister Turner never once dared jump overboard after you, yet I hear he fought extremely hard against the blackguards when they tried to separate him and Miss Blake. And even now, when you and he are in danger from one of the most lethal men in the British Empire, who was it that Mister Turner chose to run off with? Whose side is he by now of his own volition?"
"Will doesn't know I escaped!" Elizabeth shot back, "If he did, he would be beside me in a heartbeat. I know it."
"Do you think so? Because when I saw him in Tortuga, he was falling over himself like a fool to and keep Miss Blake's interest from wandering to Mister Sloane, whom he seemed to view as a rival-"
"Perhaps he was trying to keep her safe from falling for the man's charms. Mr Sloane might call himself a pirate, but he is not to be trusted. Will was trying to keep Peggy from falling for his charms because he an honourable man who made a vow to protect her virtue-"
"No, he isn't. You might think your beloved William is an honourable man. But honourable men do not use good, loyal women for ten years and then dump them in such a crude manner so publicly for a woman already engaged to another. Honourable men also do not leave behind their fiancées to rot in prison cells to play pirate and seek the comfort of that very woman he abandoned." Norrington sneered as he leaned into her bubble and hissed, "I saw him with my own two eyes, Elizabeth. The way he was chasing after her, one would think Miss Blake were his fiancée and not you."
"How dare you!" Elizabeth stomped so close to Norrington that she was now almost toe to toe with him "Are you truly that bitter about how things ended between us that you would sink so low as to suggest my fiancé has feelings for another woman and is pursuing her behind my back?"
"Perhaps. But could you blame me if I was? After all, you too played a part in my public humiliation, didn't you? Were you not the one who publicly dropped our engagement to defend the man I was bound by duty to hang?" Norrington clipped, and Elizabeth saw pain in his usually calm dark eyes as his voice softened "Or maybe I am merely trying to do you a kindness and spare you the pain you once caused me? After all, can you call my words a mere suggestion when all the evidence points in that direction?"
"Oy! James!" A sharp voice called, and Norrington turned to see Annamaria beckoning to him from the rigging at the bow, her face in's usual tired scowl. "Break time's over! Give us a hand!"
"Yes, ma'am." Norrington nodded. "I do hope you think about what I said Miss Swann. As angry as I am for how you ended our engagement, I'd hate to see another poor woman fooled and heartbroken by that knave Turner's foolish selfishness."
And before Elizabeth could get another word in he sauntered off, leaving her alone by the railing while other pirates glared sidelong in her direction.
Just what was going on with the world? She thought as she wandered over towards the stairs to the helm, her head almost in a daze from the mixture of anger, bitterness and confusion.
'Poor Miss Blake'? Forget Annamaria. Since when did Norrington ever harbour any fondness for the selkie woman? She was one of the people who had cost him his standing in society? His entire career, his life, his position were gone because of her? Even if she had gotten him that job, was that measly act of pretend kindness truly enough to buy back Norrington's trust and respect?
And what did he mean by Peggy's affections for Will being returned?
Peggy and Will had grown up together in the same home. Will had even told her he loved the selkie only as he would family…and yet…yet…
Elizabeth sat down on the stairs, remembering the look on Will's face that fateful day Peggy had returned to Port Royal…
The look in his brown eyes when he and Peggy were dragged into the wedding venue to face Lord Beckett for the first time. The spark in them…it had been strangely absent for the last six months, but on that day Elizabeth saw it again. At first, she had chalked it up to the thrill of danger or Will's eagerness to get married…but after everything Norrington said…
Could it be true? Could Will be in love with someone else? With Peggy? Of all people, her?! No. No. It cannot be possible. Will told me he loves me. He told me in front of the entire world that he loved me. He wouldn't humiliate me by chasing after another woman the second my back was turned? He wouldn't go back to HER…
Or would he? A horrible, insidious little voice sneered at the back of her head as she recalled that awful drawing.
God how she hated that thing. And worse still, she knew it wasn't the only one out there. Right now, Lord Beckett had a journal full of the wretched things to peruse at his whim. To taunt her with. To hold over her head.
Her fiancé. The man she had been so excited to spend her life with had been drawing pictures of another woman…drawing pictures on pages he had supposed to have been writing his wedding vows. Wedding vows where he had accidentally written HER name in instead of Elizabeth's.
If he were so besotted, then why would he risk so much to declare his love for Elizabeth in front of everyone? He had seemed so sincere when he had proclaimed his feelings…And when they had been courting and planning their engagement, his attentions had been so genuine. Despite a few hiccups, he had done well in bettering himself to become a proper gentleman who could proudly stand by her side.
But then Elizabeth remembered the Caves of Isle de Muerta…that horror look in his eyes as he had watched Peggy be shot at…the way he had affectionately headbutted the selkie and hugged her tight in relief. The way the two of them had playfully teased and poked at one another on the voyage home, laughing at old jokes crafted over the years so that they only took one word between them to trigger bouts of giggles and uncontrollable laughter that made people turn and glare in disapproval.
He had never done anything like that with Elizabeth in all the months of courting. But of course, he wouldn't. It wasn't how things were done. After all, they were still just a noblewoman and a commoner. If any of their sceptics had seen the two of them acting so uncouthly, tongues would wag—the wrong sort. Elizabeth had needed to do damage control, so she had urged Will to keep the public affection down to a minimum in public. It was a wrench, but that was how things were done. The only time they ever came close to such casual affection was when he had secretly taught her swordsmanship, and even then, those moments were fleeting, for Will took the lessons seriously.
But maybe…maybe she had taken it too far? Maybe that's why Will was so eager to jump after Peggy. Oh, everyone harped on about her being loyal and sincere, but the truth was clear to Elizabeth. Of course, Peggy would be liked by so many; she gave her affection away so easily. She was an easy mark.
Why else would people like Jack and Will be so quick to jump on the bandwagon? Why work hard for quality like Elizabeth when someone was giving affection away for free?
She could vaguely hear a small voice in the back of her head cautioning her against thinking such thoughts. After all, whatever is said and done, hadn't Elizabeth also benefited from having such a friendship to hand? Hadn't she once been so grateful to have a friend in her youth who looked at her like an equal with such ease?
But before that voice could make itself heard, no sooner did a small voice hit her ears from outside her body.
"Lizzy? Lizzy are you alright?"
Elizabeth glanced up and saw, to her bitterness, Katrina Beckett hovering anxiously next to her, peering up at her face.
She would have felt ashamed of her mounting temper had she not caught sight of the girl's eyes. Those grey-blue eyes…just like Peggy's. Same oh-so-sweet and pitiful concern. So easily given. Too easy. Too nice.
"I'm fine", Elizabeth snapped before the girl could reach out to put a comforting hand on her shoulder "I wish to be left alone."
"But Lizzy the Captain asked me to-"
"I said, leave me alone! God, you are good at this fake concern, aren't you? You bat those big blue eyes, and you expect the whole world to fawn over you! No wonder we're in this mess. You're just as conniving as your goddamn sister when it comes to manipulating everyone!"
"Lizzy…" Katrina's lip wobbled, but Elizabeth did not care. Something in her had snapped at the sight of those eyes again. The less she had to see them, the better it would be.
"Oy! Whatcha say to her?" the grating and familiar voice of a boy snarled, and Elizabeth's scowl darkened as Jimmy Labelle hobbled over to glower at her.
"Oh. You. I take it you have some more obscenities to shout at me?" Elizabeth clipped coldly.
Jimmy opened his mouth to shout again, but Katrina silenced him by clapping a hand over his mouth.
"Don't bother." She mumbled, and though her voice warbled sadly, it was pretty steady as she squared her shoulders and stood, prim and proper, with a ladylike grace that went beyond her years. "Good day, Miss Elizabeth. I apologise for bothering you, though I do not appreciate the insults you have levied at me. I only wished to comfort you out of concern for our friendship, but if this is how you are going to treat me and speak ill of my family, then perhaps we should keep our distance from now on until you see fit to cool your temper and apologise for your cruel words."
Despite her temper, Elizabeth could not help but feel a slight sting in her chest as she caught sight of the tears welling in Katrina's eyes.
But it was too late. By the time her shock at her own behaviour had overridden her anger, Katrina was already slamming the door to the captains' quarters behind her and Jimmy whom she was dragging by his uninjured arm.
"Hey! C'mon, let me at 'er. I'll get her this time! Gibbs can't stop me." Jimmy snarled as he shrugged the limb from Katrina's surprisingly firm grip.
Then he noticed the tears.
"Oh, come on, don't cry!" He whined, his gut squirming uncomfortably as he rummaged around in his pockets "I don' know what to do when ye bloody cry. Ugh, gross, is that snot?"
"I'm…I'm sorry." Katrina hiccupped, desperately trying to dab daintily at her nose with her sleeve. "I…It's just all so confusing. I thought we were friends. I thought my sister was her friend, too? I mean I understand her being upset about Mister Turner running off on her but-"
"But no excuse." Jimmy rolled his eyes. "You might be annoyin' but yer still crew. You still do yer work like everyone else. She don' get to talk to ye like that when she sits aroun' on her skinny arse doin' nothin all day."
"But she's probably just upset-"
"An' what? Does that give her the right to hurt ya? No, it doesn't." Jimmy grunted as he finally located the grubby red cloth he used as a handkerchief and shoved it under her streaming nose. "Now come on. Blow an' stop cryin'. That brat ain't worth it."
"Why are you being so nice to me?" Katrina's hoarse croak was muffled behind the wad of cloth as she began cleaning herself up. "I thought you hated me. You always insult me."
"I don' hate you." Jimmy frowned, "Yer annoyin' yeah, but yer a girl. Yer supposed to be annoyin'. Besides what I do ain' insultin' you."
"Oh so calling me a 'scrawny bilge rat' was you paying me a compliment?" Katrina scowled and Jimmy sighed.
"Well no. It ain't. But it's not like I actually mean it. It's just…when yer a part of the crew ye…well ye rag on one another, y'know?" Jimmy avoided her gaze, the tips of his ears pink and suddenly feeling very warm. "That's just what crew does. An' its not like I can really rag on the others. They're all older, an' Uncle Jack told me I gotta respect them an' mind me tongue because I'm a guest on his ship an' this ain't me mom's crew. But you? Yer a cabin boy like me. Well cabin girl. But po-tay-to po-tah-to."
"So…you're 'ragging' on me because that's how you used to talk back home, and I'm the only one Captain Jack will allow you to talk to like this?" Katrina frowned. Her tears were still streaming down her cheeks, but it was less out of hurt and more because her body had yet to figure out how to turn off the waterworks once they had gotten started.
"Don't think too much about it, dummy." Jimmy waved her off, but she could tell from the sudden pinkness of his cheeks that his heart was not in the jab. "But yeah. Sorta. An' since yer crew, I ain't gonna sit back an' let that woman talk ter ye like that. If this had been mom's ship she would've had that lady in the brig for being so lazy. I don't know what Uncle Jack is playin' at." He added with a bitter snort. "Clearly he's got a plan for her or else he wouldn't be lettin' her get away with all this crap."
"Well she is helping him navigate to whatever he's seeking." Katrina sniffed, feeling a lot calmer as her heart began to slow.
"No excuse for sittin' around and staring at a compass all day," Jimmy muttered stubbornly. "Besides, shouldn't navigators be lookin' at charts and such? Make calculations, do all that boring junk."
"It's not that boring if you know what you're doing," Katrina mumbled.
"Of course you would think that." Jimmy rolled his eyes again. "You with all yer 'good manners' an' fancy speakin'. Speakin' of speakin' why were you so polite with her up there."
"I wasn't." Katrina gulped down on her sob. "I was being quite rude. Noblemen don't usually address an insult so directly. Usually, we just bid a quiet goodday and leave, and perhaps write a letter requesting a formal apology. That is how it is done. But we rarely make such bold accusations to our insulters face even if the offence is obvious. Tis bad for business, according to my father."
"And yet ye told her off anyway." Jimmy smirked. "Well…I guess it's somethin'…but ye gotta learn to start standin' up for yourself like a proper pirate if ye want to be taken seriously aroun' here, an' that ain't gonna be easy since yer a slow learner-hey!" He winced as she jabbed him hard with a finger.
"Hey! Who are you calling slow?"
"Ow! Don't poke me!"
"ouch! You just poked me!"
"Oy what's goin' on here."
"o-oh! Captain Sparrow!" Katrina and Jimmy flushed scarlet as the captain in question sauntered into the room. At the sight of Katrina's tearstained face, he frowned at Jimmy.
"It wasn't me!"/"It wasn't him!" the two youths cried out in unison.
"Then who was it?" Jack's eyebrows rose.
"Who do ya think?" Jimmy scowled "That Swann woman, that's who. I don' know how but she's been real nasty towards this one." He jerked his one good thumb at Katrina who rolled her eyes "An' she been insultin' Peggy too, ruddy cheek." He added and Jack was forcibly reminded of himself at that age. The pirate would never be sure if Jacqueline was actually his blood sister, but he was certain this boy was one of his blood.
And now he's cosying up to Beckett's little princess.
Jack sighed. He'd be so proud if he weren't so peeved. He had nothing against Katrina. Indeed, he quite liked her. But between Pegsy and the whelp, Norrington and Annamaria he had hoped there would be some peace for the weirdness here in his own cabin.
It's them eyes. Jack mused as he watched Katrina daintily hand back the red cloth to Jimmy who accepted it with reddened cheeks and a scowl.
Those big blue eyes like her sisters. They'd sucker anyone in.
"I'll have a talk with her then." Jack sighed as he sauntered over to the liquor cabinet he had nailed to the wall of the cabin in one corner of the room. "Gibbs 'as been on my arse about her laziness anyway."
"Why isn't Elizabeth helping with chores anyway?" Katrina frowned. "Surely she should be able to help do something between looking at that compass?"
"You'd think so, wouldn't ya?" Jack grunted as he leaned down and pulled out a bottle of rum "I was rather hoping she'd figure herself out to tell ye the truth. These last few days 'ave been very hectic. There's a lot of unpleasant things goin' on in the big world out there that need thinkin' about, and I ain't got the time ter spare for babysittin' and neither does Mister Gibbs. Usually Pegsy helps lighten the load, but she ain't here so it's all hands to the pump."
"She really handles that much? But she's just a cabin girl." Katrina frowned.
"Actually, she's the First Mate." Jimmy snorted.
"But I thought Mister Gibbs was-"
"Nah, he's the quartermaster. Look, it's Captain, Quartermaster, First Mate. That's the order, alright?" Jimmy grunted, earning himself an approving smirk and a pat on the head as Jack passed him by.
"Correct lad. Now since ye both don't want to go back out there why don't ye do some good in here and clean up what ye can? I'll go see about tamin' the wild shrew."
"Yes sir" Katrina nodded primly.
"Yes Captain" Jimmy jerked his head in a far less graceful bob.
Good grief will this day never end?
Jack sighed as he exited his quarters and looked around the deck.
Now where is that pouty-lipped brat? Ah, there she is.
He frowned slightly as he caught sight of Elizabeth's face. She was sitting on the stairs to the helm, her head tilted down and her face so sombre and morose she almost made the air around her seem grey.
This didn't seem like the face of an angry person in the middle of a temper tantrum.
Must have run out of steam.
Jack mused as he sauntered to sit beside her on a lower step, rum held aloft in a show of truce.
"My tremendous intuitive sense of the female creature informs me that you are troubled?" He muttered, waggling his eyebrows playfully as she spared him one contemptuous glance before turning to pout at the deck.
"I just thought I'd be married by now." She mumbled, her voice surprisingly soft and her lower lip wobbling. "I was so ready to be married."
What is it about this whelp that has these ladies in such tizzys hmm? You'd think he had balls made of solid gold the way they harp on about him. Jack mentally rolled his eyes as he uncorked the rum bottle and held it under the noblewoman's nose. He knew she probably hated the drink, but it wasn't like he had any lovely wines to hand right now. He had not allowed his men to take the usual stocks to barter and trade from Tortuga a few nights ago, and so they lacked the usual luxuries they sometimes enjoyed on special occasions.
However, to his surprise, Elizabeth accepted the bottle and took a long, hearty swig.
Accepting rum she so despised? Wow, she really was in the dumps.
"You know…" He cleared his throat softly as he leaned in conspiratorially, "Lizzy, I AM a captain of a ship," he gestured to the busy deck of the Black Pearl ", And being a captain of a ship, I could in fact perform a 'marr-i-age'…right here…right now." He added with a suggestive quirk of the brow, his brown eyes twinkling.
Elizabeth's gaze narrowed on him with a mixture of disgust and suspicion.
"No thank you." She thrust the bottle of rum back into his hands as she stood up to walk back to the railing of the deck that was swiftly becoming her usual lurking spot.
"Why not?" Jack followed her, hardly phased by her blunt refusal. She was not the first difficult conquest he had, nor would she ever be the last. "We are very much alike, you and I. I and you. Us."
"Oh, except for a sense of honour and decency and-and a moral centre," she looked back over her shoulder at him and scoffed "And personal hygiene"
Jack quickly sniffed his underarm. It was true he hadn't been as stringent in his hygiene without Peggy around to boss him like a mother hen, but his smell wasn't THAT bad. It certainly was a lot better than the pig smell that still clung to Norrington.
The silly noblewoman. She was so used to fine perfumes and scented oils; she didn't know how to appreciate the musk of a real man.
"Trifles," He smiled sharply like a shark on the hunt as he slowly meandered past her back, keeping his eyes pinned to the nape of her lovely, long, pale neck in such a way she was sure to notice his stare. "You will come over to my side, I know it."
"You seem very certain." Elizabeth's brow furrowed and Jack hissed in victory in his head as he caught sight of the intrigue in her stare.
"One word love, curiosity." He murmured next to her ear "You long for freedom. You long to do what you want to do because you want it. To act on selfish impulse. You want to see what it's like." He smirked enjoying the way she bristled and broiled like a disturbed snake even as he drew away from her to give her space "Until finally, you won't be able to resist."
"Why doesn't your compass work?" Elizabeth asked suddenly and Jack blinked in surprise. Not quite where he thought this was going to go.
"M-my compass works fine." He coughed but Elizabeth was quick to see the chink in his armour and boy did she take the opportunity to strike.
"Because you and I are alike, and there will come a moment when you will have a chance to show it. To do the right thing."
"I love those moments. I like to wave at them as they pass by," Jack snorted as he turned his back on her, his grin widening slightly as he felt her footsteps approach him. Oh she could play coy all she liked but not even she could resist chasing him.
"You'll have the chance to do something." Elizabeth leaned on the railing beside him drumming it with her long nailed fingers. "Something courageous. And when you do, you'll discover something. That you're a good man."
"All evidence to the contrary." Jack glanced down at her hands. Soft, hardly blemished, barely a blister or rough patch in sight. It would be nice to be touched by such soft hands once more and no mistake.
"Oh, I have faith in you. Want to know why?" she smiled, her tone almost playful but her brown eyes cold.
Jack did not mind it. Charming, calculating minx act suited her very well. But he had more experience in these games and would not fall for her charms.
"Do tell, dearie." He smirked, keeping as still as a statue as she leaned in, her lips inches from his.
"Curiosity." Elizabeth murmured, "You're going to want it. A chance to be admired and gain the rewards that follow. You won't be able to resist" She leaned in even further, and Jack almost shivered as her hot breath hit his face "You're going to want to know what it tastes like."
Damn…she IS good.
Jack sucked in a sharp, shuddering breath, doing his best to ignore the little voice at the back of his head that sounded eerily like Gibbs' warning him not to give in.
But too late.
For all his charms, he had never been good at resisting temptation. Not when it came in such a delectably conniving package. Besides, it wasn't like this was going to hurt his prospects. He had set out to seduce her, and this was all part and parcel of that little game.
"I do want to know what it tastes like." He admitted turning towards her but holding himself back. No. If he allowed himself to be the first to fold, she'd have all the power, and she knew it.
But damn if it wasn't tempting just to give in.
"But seeing as you're a good man, I know you'd never put me in a position that would compromise my honour" She whispered, eyes shutting as he allowed himself to cave just a little and stroke her jaw.
Yet as he pulled his hand away to free it of a few stray strands of blonde hair, he felt something prickle in his palm.
A very horrible, familiar prickle.
Jack's gaze fell on his open palm, just in time to see the horrific, disgusting tumour-like growth of pulsing flesh and sea-flora bloom to life on his skin.
Oh no. Oh-nononononono! He gulped as he pulled sharply away from Elizabeth's face, all the earlier heat and tingles of desire completely replaced by ice-cold dread.
This could not be. How? How was this horrible mark back on him?
It hadn't even been three days. The Devil had given him his word that he would give him three whole days.
But here he was with the Black Spot yet again? Why now? Why, of all times, now, when he didn't have the Dead Man's Chest in his keeping?
Was it Peggy? Had she or Will given the game away? What was going on?
"I'm proud of you, Jack." Elizabeth's voice was faint, and if Jack had been paying attention to her, he might have noticed the slight disappointment in her eyes.
But now was not the time to be thinking about making a new conquest. Not when the lookout at the Crows Nest shouted:
"LAND HO!"
There was a rush of cold air as Elizabeth dashed away from Jack to the other side of the deck to see the new landmass.
Jack groaned as he felt the black spot grow even larger than before in his now closed fis,t a horrible cold feeling spreading throughout his entire body.
"NGGH! I want my jar of dirt."
Notes:
WHOOOO! DAMN! Over 20,003 words! That's the longest chapter yet.
Once I got started, I just couldn't stop my fingers typing. And even when I was editing, i couldn't find a decent place to round it off for the next chapter.
So yeah we have tempers running high and everything is building. Apologies if characters are a bit OOC.
I figured, given the turmoil he's currently feeling, Will would be more traumatised by the Kraken attack. And it does seem in Davy Jones's wheelhouse to dangle the carrot and prod with the stick when it comes to toying with Peggy. He probably thinks letting her help Will might help break her when he does go through with his threats.
As for Elizabeth, I know her temper tantrum might seem a bit extreme, but she's just found out that her fiancé may be chasing/"cheating" with another woman behind her back. That would be enough to make anyone furious. I may be the author, but I'm not going to make excuses for Will's behaviour or condone it (far from it). Even if Peggy is oblivious to his intentions and he genuinely loves her and wants to do the right thing by her and Elizabeth when all is over, what he's doing now could be considered emotionally cheating at the very LEAST, and that is not good (bad William!) . I hope i made that clear with Norrington.
As for Norrington, I figured that now he has something going on with Annamaria (though what it is, even I don't really know to be honest) that he would be less afraid to hold his ex-fiancee accountable for dumping him (because it always bugged me that he was so easy to forgive her for leaving him high and dry when she's just as responsible for his public humiliation as either Jack or Will in the original trilogy)
And then we have poor Katrina and Jimmy caught in the middle of this mess.
And Jack...well, like how he liked to dig the knife in with Will, I figured he'd try and do something similar with Elizabeth. Only Elizabeth is more than a match for him. Maybe Gibbs was right. He does need to watch out ;)
Anyways, enough of my rambling.
I hope you guys enjoyed this mammoth of a chapter. I enjoyed writing it.
Keep reading, reviewing, faving and following for more.
Cheers
FuzzyBeta
Chapter 31: A Collision Course
Summary:
"Well, each wants the chest for hisself, don't 'e? Mr. Norrington, I think, is trying to regain a bit of honour. Old Jack's looking to trade it, save his own skin. And Turner there, I think 'e's trying to settle some unresolved business twixt him and his twixed-cursed pirate father".
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
"LAND HO!"
"There it is. Isla Cruces"
Peggy and Will stared out through the teeth of the Kraken's bowsprit, the latter's arms tensing tight around the former as he spotted a thin line of white gold sand and green growth in the distance.
"The Dead Man's Chest," Will murmured.
"And the Pearl", Peggy gulped. So, the Black Pearl had managed to reach before them, though it would not be long till the Flying Dutchman could corner her and rip her to shreds. Oh god, Jack, Gibbs and the men…she hoped they were fast enough to get ashore.
"They'll be fine," Will whispered bracingly. "We haven't reached them yet. They still have a chance to get the heart before Jones does. He can't step on land anyway."
"No, Davy Jones can't." Peggy bit her lip. "But his men can. The same curse doesn't bind them. If he gives the order to go ashore, then they can go. It's only he who can have only one day for every ten years."
"I wish I didn't have to leave you behind with him." Will sighed bitterly as he finished tucking her pelt under his shirt once more "If Jack has reached the island first, we could find the chest and protect you."
"Wouldn't stop Jones from killing me with his mark before I reach Jack," Peggy sighed, "Then by the time we've found the Chest, it'll be too late to stop the poison."
"There is no cure?" Will shivered as he looked down at the marked limb. The black ink had spread through all the blood vessels on her hand and was now creeping up her forearm towards her elbow.
"If there is, I have never heard of it." Peggy grimaced, "Maybe Tia Dalma knows, but she's not here. Besides, it's probably something extremely rare that requires a very high price."
"But this is your life we're talking about!" Will snarled, "Surely she won't be so petty as to deny you help because you couldn't pay coin-"
"It's not money you pay with." Peggy sighed. "Magic always has a price, Will. One way or another, the bill will come due. Your body, your soul…whatever is worthy of the exchange. I know Tia Dalma would be able to help me. She's bound by her oaths to help protect all Children of the Ocean. But if she didn't suggest a cure for me when there was one, then it's probably because she knows it was too late to administer it or it was too dangerous for me to consume while…while in this state."
She paused to stroke his cheek with her thumb, her eyes softening as he leaned into her touch and shut his eyes.
"Will, I'll be fine. You should go."
"But Peggy."
"You must go now, Will." She repeated firmly. "If Jack is here, then Jones certainly will summon the Kraken to these waters to finish the job. If that thing catches you in the water-"
"I know." Will sighed heavily, leaning and hugging her tight in his arms. "Just promise me you'll be safe."
"I'll try to be," Peggy murmured, returning a slight squeeze even as he pulled away to kiss her on the forehead.
"OY! Who's down there!" A rough voice hollered.
Peggy and Will looked up in alarm as several of the undead crew of the Dutchman peered from the rope rigging down at them from on high.
"Go. Go now, Will!" Peggy cried out as, with a shove, she pushed him through a gap in the teeth.
There were shouts of anger, interrupted by a soft splash as Will fell backwards into the water. Thankfully, the bowsprit was not so high, so his fall wasn't painful.
He swam under the water for as long as he could, hoping to use its murkiness to hide him from the sight of the Dutchman's crew. He didn't know how good at swimming they were given their strange half-acquatic biology, and for all he knew, the Kraken might be called again. If he didn't make a good head start now, then he may never get another shot to outswim them.
But he could not resist the urge to look back.
He was a fair bit away from the Flying Dutchman, her speed much slower now that she was approaching shallower waters.
Still, despite her distance, Will could see several figures at the prow of the bow. One tall and darkly clad with pale skin, and several shorter, hunched and less humanoid figures holding a woman with fiery red hair that glinted in the sun.
Will knew he should have turned his head and kept swimming, but he couldn't tear his eyes away.
What if this was it? What if this was the moment Jones finally killed her?
He felt a jolt of something hot yet prickling against his stomach, where Peggy's selkie pelt was stuffed under his shirt, warning him of the danger, but he ignored it as he began paddling in the direction he had come.
No…no, he had to go back!
He knew he had promised Peggy he would go on ahead, but he couldn't just let her die alone by that monster's-
There was a small shriek, and Will's eyes widened.
Oh no-nonononononono! His strokes grew more frantic as he gaped up in horror at the ship.
Davy Jones was standing by the railing alone, claw hand and humanoid one both extended forward, pushing a pale figure over the edge.
"Peggy!" Will cried as the head of copper curls suddenly went toppling over the side of the boat.
There was a distant splash, and Will winced as the pelt against his skin tingled, and Peggy's voice snarled in his head.
SLIMY SQUID-FACED BASTARD! SCREW YOU! SCREW ALL OF YOU TO HELL!
"Thank god", Will sighed in relief as Peggy continued to cuss in his head, the pelt against his skin getting warmer with each passing moment.
It was not long before he saw a familiar brown and cream head of a seal pop up a few feet away, snarling and hissing with such fury that the fangs were bared even as it approached Will.
"Woah-woah-woah! Easy Peg! Easy! It's me! It's Will! You're alright." Will swam back, alarmed. She was usually so amiable and endearing in her seal form, but now she looked incredibly vicious. Her eyes were glowing silver, and her teeth looked a lot sharper than they usually did.
With her speedy swimming and those teeth, he would not want her to hunt him down in these waters.
However, to his relief, she tucked her fangs away as she swam up beside him, though it was clear from her brisk motions and hissing that she was still miffed.
Ruddy squid man thinks he can keep tossing me over the side like a defective cannonball? Hmph! Gah! Dammit, Will, get a move on!
He sighed, faint amusement breaking through his concern as her mouth gently grabbed his sleeve to urge him to keep swimming.
Even in this form, she still finds a way to be bossy.
"OI! YOU LOT!"
The crew watched with keen interest as Jack Sparrow called loudly for their attention. In his arms, he was clutching a large jar full of dirt to his chest as if it were his precious newborn child, all the while wearing an expression befitting a frantic gazelle that had just spotted a lion nearby but wasn't sure whether to bolt or not.
"Right! Here's what's gonna happen!" he coughed, as he attempted to regain some semblance of dignified composure. "Mister Gibbs, you have command of the ship till I get back. Keep to the shallow waters at all times. Cotton, stay at the helm and keep a weather eye out for any sign of trouble. Marty, prep the guns. I don't know what's out there, but I don't want to be surprised. Miss Swann, Mister Sloane, Anna and Mister Ex-Commodore are to go ashore, and you two. Yes, you – uh… what's yer names again?"
"Uh, I'm Pintel Cap'in"
"Ragetti, sir,"
"Right, Pinto and Regretti…or whichever you are, you're at the oars. Ah, yes, and I almost forgot, Kitty, Jimmy, you're also coming too."
"What?!" Sloane snapped, eyes darting at the two children in alarm. His heart sank in dismay as he caught sight of the excitement on both youths' faces.
"Are ye sure that's wise, Captain?" Gibbs hissed into his Captain's ear before the male selkie could make any further retort. "It could be dangerous for the little 'uns out there."
"It'd be more dangerous for them on here. Especially Kitty." Jack muttered low so only his quartermaster could hear. "I spent thirteen years thinkin' of ways to get leverage over that bastard father of hers, and I ain't about to lose it because of one sneaky bastard stealin' her when my back is turned." Then he straightened up and said loud enough for all to hear, "Mister Sloane, you're going to be their chaperone. Keep them out of mischief, and if we run into trouble, take 'em straight to the boat and head back to the ship."
"Understood, Captain," Sloane grunted, though he looked slightly relieved as he gestured for the two adolescents to join him in prepping the longboat with water skins and a few rations.
Since they were only planning on being on the island for less than a few hours, they would not need much in the way of supplies. However, fresh water was still a must. There might have been vegetation on the island, but they did not know if there was any safe drinking water.
All in all, Norrington was impressed. He would never admit it out loud, but for all his eccentricities, Jack Sparrow did run a tight ship. Not only that, but he was keeping a keen eye on everyone and everything that moved, especially young Miss Katrina Beckett.
Beckett? To think that the daughter of the director of the East India Trading Company would have found her way aboard this ship sailing willingly under Jack Sparrow's colours.
Norrington glanced sidelong at the younger noble as she gracefully helped Jimmy lower himself into the longboat ahead of herself, doing their best to be careful of the boy's injured arm.
Norrington had heard from Elizabeth that the girl was fleeing a badly arranged marriage to Lord Arlington's son. Arlington? That scoundrel?
From what little Norrington knew, Lord Cutler Beckett had only just received his title from the King and was new money. He had wealth and business influence, but lacked the power that old names and titles held by virtue of birth. Not only was Lord Arlington wealthy because of many wise investments in shipbuilding, but he had a long enough bloodline that would ensure the legitimacy of Beckett's future successors. The Beckett name may die out with his daughter, but his bloodline and legacy would live on with all the power and influence to rule with an iron fist over the seas.
And yet here his little daughter was, Jack Sparrow's prisoner. Oh, little Katrina Beckett might have thought she was a guest because of her connection to Jack Sparrow's beloved cabin girl, but Norrington had seen enough of the pirate's cunning to clearly see the pretty cage he was weaving around the young girl with his charm.
Sparrow didn't seem the type to lech at underage girls, but he knew how to make people think he was their friend before he pulled the rug out from under them. He had somehow managed to hoodwink poor Elizabeth once more, though from what Norrington observed, she too seemed to have gained some advantage over the pirate with her guile and wit.
Norrington could not blame the pirate for pursuing such a lady for his bed. He had found Elizabeth's cunning mind and boldness endearing for a time. It was what had made her a breath of fresh air amongst all the other sweet, delicate flowers of womanhood of Port Royal.
That was until she had turned it on him. To a degree, Norrington could not blame her. He had always known he was not the sort of man a woman like Elizabeth would want. She wanted someone bold, dashing, and exciting, like Turner or the heroes in her many books, and he, Norrington, was none of those things. He was steadfast, dutiful…too dutiful, and dull…
Too dull for a woman seeking adventure and romance.
He noted glumly as he clambered into the longboat.
Though recent circumstances had forced him into taking more risks, the truth of the matter was that if Norrington could choose the life he wanted, it would be a simple one. One where he would devote his time to his duties, reading, studying, and taking slow walks through town, talking to people.
Though his old job in the Navy required him to be a man of action when duty called, he was not an exciting man by nature. He preferred the slowness and still calm of routine to the turbulence Elizabeth thrived in. And boy was she thriving. He had never seen her more alive than when she was in the thick of trouble.
"Are you alright, sir?"
Norrington blinked in surprise as young Katrina Beckett stared up at him with those big grey-blue eyes. Eyes so much like her sister's.
Her sister, who was set to die very soon.
Norrington felt his heart clench at the thought—poor Miss Blake. Not only was she dying of some unknown illness, but she was stuck imprisoned on her debtor's ship with that swine Turner, who had caused her so much pain. He had not told Annamaria that he had known about Peggy's condition before she did. If he had, he was afraid the ex-smuggler would descend upon him worse than any Furie.
He would never forget the look in Annamaria's eyes when she had confided some of the details of Peggy's situation last night. He had never thought he would see such a strong woman reduced to tears. Then again, beneath all her fire and snark, Annamaria was much more tender-hearted than anyone would ever guess. One would never guess that she and Peggy had only been friends for a few months. The two women treated one another with the warmth of sisters.
"I am alright, Miss Blake." Norrington forced a small, wan smile to his face, remembering Jack's orders to refer to the youngest Beckett daughter by her sister's chosen name. "Merely anxious to get off this tub and touch my feet to shore."
"A tub?" Jack scoffed, clutching his jar of dirt tighter in his arms. "You have poor eyesight, oh-Commodore, for the last I checked, my Black Pearl is the only true lady on these waters, with one notable exception, of course," Jack added with a small wink at Katrina. "Be careful of this one, love, he's tricky, he is."
"You're one to talk, Captain Sparrow. You are trickiness personified." Katrina quirked an eyebrow at the pirate who allowed himself a smirk despite his anxiety as he hopped into the longboat.
"Cheeky brat. Come on, get in! We've got ourselves a chest to find."
"After you miss Blake." Norrington gestured in gentlemanly fashion to Katrina, who demurely took his hand as she clambered into the longboat.
"Jesus girlie, you really were a rich priss, weren't ya?" Jimmy rolled his eyes as Katrina settled in her spot beside him, folding her hands primly and properly in her lap.
"I don't see why I can't be a pirate and still be a lady." She sniffed, jerking her shoulder away from Elizabeth's accidental touch as she lowered herself into the spot behind her.
Elizabeth's face fell at the girls' coldness. Then again, she supposed it was only natural after the beastly way she had treated her earlier.
Perhaps it is better this way. Elizabeth sighed. Once I find Will, we shall go our separate ways. I will be married to my betrothed and settled somewhere safe, and Kitty shall have her sister all to herself to teach her how to be a pirate.
"I've got a bad feeling about all this," Sloane muttered as he helped Annamaria and Norrington lower the boat with the help of the crew aboard the Pearl. "There's a storm brewing."
"It doesn't look that bad." Annamaria frowned as she looked up. There were a few clouds above them, but none were heavy or dark enough to signal oncoming rain.
"I mean a different kind of storm." Sloane grimaced, his face turned down to the water, his expression grim. "Blood has already been spilled today, and there's plenty more to come."
"How can you tell?" Kitty frowned in puzzlement with Jimmy, who sniffed the air audibly.
"I don't smell anything. Well, aside from you lot."
Elizabeth grimaced. She had heard from Gibbs that Sloane was a selkie like Peggy, though he came from the Irish coast and not the Caribbean.
It was strange to think of the handsome, polite man as anything but human. Still, in that moment, as he looked down into the waters, Elizabeth could have sworn she saw his green eyes shimmer like the sea as his nails gained a familiar claw-like point, much like Peggy's had when she was angry or anxious.
"And do you think this storm is headed for us any time soon?" Jack asked, and to Elizabeth's intrigue, he did not seem surprised at all by the male selkie's strange declaration, though he did seem a lot stiffer than before, his grip on his jar of dirt so tight the knuckles beneath the rings were pale.
"Hard to say," Sloane muttered. "But we should remain vigilant. Something evil has been awoken in these waters, I feel it in my bones."
Norrington might have almost scoffed had he not seen the shift of Annamaria's and Jack's expressions as they looked at one another. There was something else Jack Sparrow had failed to tell them of. Something this Sloane knew. Was it to do with this Davy Jones character?
Norrington caught Elizabeth's eye and was relieved to see just as much confusion in her.
Just how much danger had they gotten themselves into?
"Captain Sparrow, are we-" Katrina started to say, only to be steamrolled over by Jack's cavalier snort.
"We'll be fine, love! Just fine and dandy. You'll be staying with Jimmy, Mister Rigatoni and Pincer-"
"Pintel" Pintel grunted as he and Ragetti gave a heave at the oars, only to be ignored by Jack as he continued.
"-and Mister Sloane by the boat. Keep watch and stretch your legs out. That way, if there is any trouble, you'll be able to hop right in here and get yourselves back to the ship post haste. Unless, of course, you'd much rather swim, that works too. But on your own head be it." Jack shrugged.
"Wait, so we don't get to see this treasure yer lookin' for?" Jimmy groaned in dismay.
"Jimbo, given yer temper tantrum today, yer lucky I let ye come with me on land at all." Jack clipped, and Norrington was surprised by the sharpness in the man's tone as he fixed his nephew in his stare. "Stay by the boat, keep a weather eye out on that horizon for any trouble. That's yer job today. Take it or leave it."
Jimmy grumbled, but wisely chose not to argue.
Elizabeth could not help but feel a little smug at the chastisement. She knew it was petty, but it was hard enough being all alone on the Pearl without the boy causing her any further trouble.
"Something amusing, Miss Swann?" Katrina's voice cut through Elizabeth's satisfaction like a knife.
"No. Nothing at all, Miss Beckett." The older noblewoman replied coolly, though she could not help but bristle under the scrutiny of those cold grey-blue eyes…so like her sister's.
How she hated them. Yet another reason their tentative friendship was doomed never to last. Elizabeth did not think she could bear looking into those eyes when they caused her so much grief and pain.
God, I cannot wait till we're on dry land.
It was a slog to get to the island of Isla Cruces.
The waters were choppy, and the winds were harsh. It seemed as if the ocean had turned against Will as he and Peggy finally dragged themselves ashore, the latter smoothly transforming back into her human form as her body hit the sand.
"Shit!" Peggy groaned as she pushed herself to sit further up the beach. "Shit-shit-shit-shit-shit!"
"Peggy!" Will crawled up the sand towards her as she shook her hair to dry it.
"That bastard! That damn bastard!" she grumbled bitterly as she tried her best to tie her curls into a loose plait. "Throwing me overboard twice in one day. I swear! I'm going to chop that tentacle beard off and serve it in a bowl like they do in Singapore!"
"Why, though?" Will panted as he pulled himself to his knees "Why let you go again? I thought he would have kept you prisoner after disobeying him."
"Oh, he will soon." Peggy spat, glaring daggers at the Flying Dutchman as she bobbed in the water at a distance. "He's just playing with his food now."
"What did he say?" Will bit his lip as Peggy sighed.
"He said, 'Go. Be with your precious whelp on land. But the second your skin even touches a single drop of seawater, you will return to this ship and you will never leave.' And from the sounds of it, he ain't gonna make it easy for me to stay out here. He'll play dirty, you watch. Bloody pirate," she muttered darkly, rolling her eyes, and Will could not help but grin at the sight of her grumpy pout and scrunch of her flared nose.
"What?" she snapped waspishly.
"Nothing," Will gently tugged a stray curl from her braid so it could dangle by her cheek. "I'm just glad to hear you sounding like your old self again."
"Come on," she avoided his eye, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. "Let's get further in before the tide comes in…I'm sure Jack will be around here soon."
"I don't think we'll have to look that far." Will pointed further up the beach.
There in the distance on the white sands was a group of people. Though they were pretty far off, Peggy could make out the walk of one of them—a familiar, awkward swagger of a man with permanent sea legs.
"Jack."
Will felt his heart sting as he watched Peggy leap to her feet, her lips spreading in a wide grin. There it was. A sparkle of joy in those grey-blue eyes.
It made his gut almost boil with hot shame…shame mixed with something else. That awful churning he had felt whenever Jack ruffled Peggy's hair with that warm affection when he thought others weren't looking…the terrible backflips his gut did when he had watched Sloane hold her hands the day she had hurt them in her grief…
Jealousy, that is what it was. That was what it had always been.
He had just been too stupid to acknowledge it for fear of what it would mean.
But now he could see it clearly, and suddenly the tugs in his gut felt like they were punches winding him every time he dwelled upon those moments with those men.
"We should be careful." He urged, grabbing Peggy by the arm before she could bolt, "We don't know if they're armed; they might shoot at us if we surprise them."
Selfish pig. He cursed himself as Peggy nodded in agreement and they both began ambling towards the distant group. Selfish…even now, when they needed to use all haste to get to the heart, all he could think about was making sure she wouldn't leave his side and prolonging the time he had her all to himself.
And why?
Because Jack Sparrow was right there and could take her away again.
But even as they got closer, and Peggy's footsteps became faster in her excitement, Will could not find it in him to stop her jogging ahead. Not when she was finally smiling properly for the first time in weeks.
So many months ago, he was the one who used to make that smile appear whenever he greeted her with a good morning by the stove. But now all he brought her was worry and despair.
He didn't deserve that smile…but he longed for it all the same. He longed to keep it all for himself with such fierce passion that his fingers twitched to grab at her every time she moved a bit too far out of his reach.
Was this how it felt for Lord Beckett when he fell for Peggy's mother? Was this jealousy and possessiveness all a part of the selkie's bond? Was it just as heady for him as it was for Will?
Even if Will didn't agree with it, he could understand the desire to keep Peggy and her mother under lock and key.
To sneak her off and take her back to their dingy apartment and never let her near anyone else ever again. To keep her smiling just for him as if he were the only person that existed in her world.
He panted as he and Peggy stopped for a short breather at the edge of the small dunes, the voices of the other group on the beach now reaching them over the crashing of the waves behind them.
With careful eyes, Peggy and Will peered ahead.
There, in a dip between the white sandy dunes littered with short green grass, were four people. Their backs were towards Will and Peggy, and they seemed to all be hunched in a huddle over something large and heavy.
In the middle was Jack Sparrow, his dreadlocks and red bandanna easily recognisable even from where they stood.
To his right was a tall man in a blue coat with brown shoulder-length hair that was messy and had flecks of sand, and a slender, feminine figure with dark skin and dark hair pulled back in a low ponytail under her big, floppy hat.
The last figure, on Jack's left, was smaller than the others, with long dark blonde hair flowing in the wind under a smaller hat.
What the? What's going on, who's-
Peggy paused as a gust of wind blew the scent of the four people towards her nose.
There was Jack's familiar scent, a mix of rum and sweat, mingling with that of the other man in the blue coat, whose musk was overshadowed by the smell of stale drink, mixed with muck and seawater.
"You actually were telling the truth." The man said, and Peggy's heart leapt to her throat at the sound of that drawl.
Norrington? What is he doing here?
But before her brain could even come up with a simple answer, the woman to Norrington's right said softly.
"Holy shit. You really were not kidding…"
Anna? But what…how…? Peggy's eyes bulged as the earthy, deep scent of teak, ginger and citrus hit her nose.
What was going on? Why was Annamaria here? She had sworn she would stay with her parents till her brother had the baby and that was still a few months away. How had Jack ever managed to convince her to join him on this mad adventure when there were people like Davy Jones and Peggy's father prowling the oceans?
But Peggy had little time to worry about the presence of her friend when another very familiar smell hit her nostrils…one that made her heart sink.
The soft, floral scent, tinged with sea spray and scented soap and oils…
No…she glanced sidelong at Will. He was frowning at the group of people, his regular human nose nowhere near as sensitive enough to register all she had. All he knew was what his eyes told him, and he did not seem pleased to see Jack if that glare at the pirate's back was to go by.
Well…he was not going to be angry at Jack for much longer, Peggy thought bitterly as the dark blonde hair whipped in the wind, sending more of that dreaded scent into her nose.
"I do that quite a lot." Jack snorted as Annamaria and Norrington both stared at him with wide, bewildered eyes. "Yet people are always surprised."
"With good reason!"
Peggy shut her eyes and sucked in a deep breath as Jack, Annamaria, Norrington, and Elizabeth all turned around to face Will, who stepped boldly forward. The latter's face split into a wide, warm smile.
"Will! You're alright, thank God! I came to find you!"
Jack and Norrington's eyes snapped to watch as Elizabeth launched herself at Will, her arms wrapping tight around his neck as she hugged him tight.
Shameless. Utterly shameless. Jack sneered, glancing worriedly at Peggy as her damp copper curls shone in the sunlight, catching his eye.
Her eyes were shut, and she had turned her back on the happy couple, but even with that, she still clutched at her chest and bit her lip in an attempt to hide the pain.
Jack's eyes narrowed.
The poor girl. No matter how much any of them tried to shield her, they could not keep her safe from the hurt that came from within.
Disgusting whelp.
Jack turned back to watch Will and Elizabeth, ready to sneer and say something snarky to break up what was undoubtedly going to be a disgusting display of their foul and selfish romance. But when Elizabeth leaned in to kiss her betrothed, Jack was surprised.
Six months ago, he had seen these two despotic lovebirds only too eager to eat one another's faces off on that bluff.
But even as Elizabeth tried to engage Will in a proper kiss, he quickly turned his face to the side, so that her lips caught the corner of his mouth instead. His hands patted her awkwardly on the back as he stumbled a little to steady himself.
Jack looked sidelong at Norrington and found the ex-commodore frowning at the sight too.
So, it wasn't just him seeing it then?
Will was a stupid romantic at heart, and despite playing the part of "decent, honest, simple lad from the village", he did enjoy rubbing his victories in his rival's faces.
So what had happened now? What was stopping him from embracing his dearly beloved pouty-lipped bride-to-be?
"Will? Is everything alright?" Elizabeth frowned.
That's interesting…Jack's lip curled as he watched the whelp spare a worried glance for the back of Peggy's head, one of his hands absentmindedly rubbing his chest.
That's very interesting. Jack stroked his chin, eying the spot the whelp touched…on the left side…over his heart…
Peggy, meanwhile, did not catch any of Will's odd actions.
She was pretending to scan the horizon line for danger, her hand moving to clutch at the abalone shell necklace so tight her knuckles went white.
She knew it had to happen sooner or later. Knew that no matter how sweetly Will would coo over her and stroke her hair, it would never last.
Not when he had Elizabeth in sight.
After all, once his dear beloved Elizabeth was there before him, what use was Peggy to him other than to shine his shoes and cook his meals like a good little housekeeper or sidekick?
I fell for it again. She kept her eyes shut tight as she heard the rustle of boots on sand. He suckered me in with his tears and his sweet apologies, and I got roped into it all over again. I'm such an idiot.
"Oi! Outta my way, Swann!"
There was a cry, and Peggy opened her eyes just in time to see Elizabeth and Will be shoved roughly aside into the sandy dune as Annamaria stomped up to Peggy, eyes flashing.
"You!" The ex-smuggler snarled, and before Peggy could do or say anything, a dark hand slapped the back of her head.
"OW! Anna!" Peggy winced, but Annamaria was not hearing it.
"What the hell do ya think yer doin' huh? Ye get sick with this broken bond shit and go off with this slithering mangy curr into the jaws of the Devil 'imself and ye don't bother to tell yer best mate?!"
Peggy opened her mouth to retort, only to suddenly find herself enveloped in a tight hug by a pair of dark, wiry arms.
"You brat! You silly brat!" Annamaria's voice was hoarse, and Peggy was alarmed to see how wet her dark eyes were as she was patted down and inspected for any further injuries. When Anna saw the fading bruises of Davy Jones's crab claw on Peggy's neck, she cursed angrily. "Tch! That bastard, what the hell did he do te ye?"
"Sorry, Anna." Peggy's eyes shut as she smiled and leaned into her friend's embrace. Even though it had only been a couple of weeks, it felt like a lifetime since their last parting. Not to mention her friend's scent did much to overpower Elizabeth's, even if only for just a moment. "I didn't mean to make you worry."
"I know you didn't," Annamaria grunted, doing her best and utterly failing to keep a stiff upper lip as she sniffed down hard on her tears. "But damn it if ye didn't take us all for a bloody spin and a half."
Will glanced back at Jack, who likewise was watching the display keenly.
Despite the surprise at Annamaria's unusual display of open, intense affection, the brown kohl-lined eyes were soft with relief. From the way his ringed hands twitched, it seemed to Will that the pirate wanted to join in the happy reunion but was hesitant.
This made Will frown. Jack had never shied away from showing affection towards Peggy before, so why now? Was he feeling guilty for what happened that night with Jones? Or was he embarrassed to be so caring in front of himself and Norrington?
Wait, hold on, Norrington?
"Wait? How did you-" Will frowned at the ex-commodore, who shrugged.
"Do not tax your brain, Mister Turner." Norrington smirked, "I needed employment, and Sparrow needed a crew. This is strictly business."
"Well, I for one am glad to see you looking cleaner, James," Peggy smirked at Annamaria as they broke apart. "I take it the two of you came together?"
"Couldn't let Jack just poach a good employee now, could I?" Annamaria coughed, but Peggy saw the slight darkening of her cheeks.
Good grief. What was going on nowadays? Was there something in the seawater driving everyone crazy?
"Speaking of travels. How in the blazes did you two get here?" Jack asked stiffly.
"Sea turtles, mate." Will snorted, pulling away from a confused Elizabeth as they rose from where they had fallen on the sand dune, "A pair of them strapped to our feet."
"Not so very easy, is it?" Jack's lips curled. Oh, so the boy thought he could be clever with him now?
How pathetic.
Jack turned to Peggy, only to stumble back in a hurry as she stormed up to him.
"YOU!" she growled, and Jack gulped.
Yikes, she was looking fearsome! Her eyes were flashing silver, and her hair was coming undone out of her messy braid so that it billowed in the wind like a shining fire and – oh no, the fangs were out! The fangs were out!
Not good – not good!
"Ah-ah! Now-now Pegsy – Pegsy see here love I know it was a mean trick with old Squid Face but-"
Kathwack!
"THAT was for pulling the wool over my eyes!"
"Ouch. Okay, I admit it, I deserved that one." Jack grunted, rubbing his stinging cheek and sighing with relief as he felt no blood on his face. Thank goodness she had sheathed her claws. Fangs out was bad enough, but the claws…Jack had seen those things rip flesh to ribbons in a flash.
"Ya think?!" Peggy snapped, tears streaming down her cheeks as she grabbed the pirate by the scruff and tugged him forward.
Jack flinched as he braced himself for another hit. But none came. Instead, he felt a pair of arms wrap tight around him and a nose bury itself into his shoulder.
"I'm sorry, Jack." She whispered, tears springing to her eyes. "I'm so sorry. I should have told you about Jones-I shouldn't have-"
"None of that, love. None of that." Jack patted her on the back, his cheeks colouring with embarrassment as Norrington quirked an amused eyebrow in his direction. "I'm just glad you're alive an' kickin'…or slappin' in your case."
"Well, maybe if you had clued me in to your schemes earlier-" she pouted as she pulled away.
"Wouldn't have worked." Jack rolled his eyes "Yer a shit liar, love. Always 'ave been. Jones would have seen through you in a heartbeat if he thought you were still on my side."
"Speaking of sides, how the hell did you figure out I was working for Jones?" Peggy frowned, and Jack grinned as he tapped the inside of her wrist where the black mark was. "Oh."
"Oh yes," he smirked smugly. "But from the looks of things, my plan has worked out for the best, unless this one has screwed you over again?" Jack turned his sneer on Will, whose jaw stiffened in anger at the jab. "Tell me, William, how many extra years of service have you added to MY poor Pegsy's ledger with Jones? Fifty? A hundred?"
"No more than you have." Will snarled, hardly heeding Elizabeth as she tightened her grip around him to keep him from balking forward in fury. "But I do owe you thanks, Jack."
"You do?" Jack frowned.
"After you tricked me onto that ship to square your debt with Jones and to get revenge for Peggy-"
"What?!" Elizabeth squeaked.
"What?" Jack echoed, shrilly.
"I was reunited with my father." Will finished smugly.
Jack's heart sank a little as Elizabeth stared bewildered between him and her fiancé. Well darn. That boy did have a knack for unravelling his best laid plans—little bastard.
"Oh…well, you're welcome." He smirked oh-so-innocently, avoiding looking at Peggy, who rolled her eyes as understanding dawned.
So THAT was why Will had ended up aboard the Dutchman. It wasn't Will's idea at all. Jack had pulled a fast one on him, too. Though why would Will say Jack wanted vengeance for her sake?
Jack did care about her; she knew that, and he wasn't above being petty to get back at Will for breaking her heart. But would he really go so far as to doom Will to the mercy of Davy Jones?
No…he could not…That was beyond petty. That was true vindictiveness – a grudge, and Jack rarely held grudges.
She could understand the grudge against Barbossa. They had been good friends for years, having saved each other's lives on numerous occasions. Such a betrayal of trust ran deep.
But for Jack to hate Will so much for breaking her heart after everything she had done…Was such a thing possible? Surely after her betrayal, Jack would not have gone so far for her of all people. Surely she would have been the target of such revenge instead?
No…Jack wouldn't have…he wouldn't do all that for me? Would he?
But then Peggy met her captain's brown eye, and she saw something there…something beyond the smugness. The same fond glimmer she had seen that fateful day when she had visited him in his cell in Fort Charles before his hanging…the hint of the small, sad smile he had when he had given her the abalone necklace…
Jack…you bastard. Peggy felt her eyes well up slightly, but held herself together as Jack coughed and turned away.
Will's lips twisted as he watched the silent exchange between the pair.
He knew deep down that he should have been grateful that Jack was there to look after Peggy when he could not. But therein lay the rub. For ten years, it had been Will's duty to dry her tears, to comfort and hold her. To care for her and keep her safe. And now Jack was taking that away from him, too. And worse still, Will only had himself to blame.
"Everything you said to me, every word was a lie?!" Elizabeth rounded on Jack, her voice trembling with rage and distress.
"Pretty much." Jack shrugged. "Time and tide love."
"And you all knew this?" Elizabeth turned in horror to Norrington and Annamaria, who raised their eyebrows at her eyes twinkling in derisive amusement.
Even Peggy couldn't help but smirk at the cloud-dotted blue skies above.
"Elizabeth, he's a pirate. What the hell were you expecting?" She folded her arms.
"Oh shut it, Peggy, you're hardly one to talk", Elizabeth spat, eyes flashing.
"Oi! Don't talk to her like that." Annamaria snarled, stepping between the two women.
"Or what?" Elizabeth scowled. "I'm just making a point. Peggy was just as fooled as I was, and she even slapped him-"
"And you'll get your turn, Lizzy." Peggy tutted as if she were a babysitter trying to be patient with a toddler, "When you've earned it."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Elizabeth's nostrils flared, and Peggy snorted, hardly phased.
"It means I've lived with this shmuck for months. He should have known better than to pull a fast one on me. If there's anyone on this beach who has the right to slap him, it's me, and Anna too, since she has known him longer."
"Hey!" Jack scoffed in betrayal, much to Norrington's amusement as Peggy's smirk widened coldly.
"As for you, Lizzy, well… you aren't the first wench he's sweet-talked, and you certainly won't be the last. Though I hardly see how that matters more than the attentions of your fiancé behind you."
Elizabeth's nostrils flared. Will was almost taken aback by the venom of Elizabeth's glare at the selkie.
What was going on? The last time he had seen Elizabeth, she had been just as worried about Peggy's situation as he had. Well, not quite as much as he had, but still, she had shown concern for her friend.
And yes, Peggy may have been quite snarky right now, but it was Elizabeth who had been rude to her first. Exceptionally rude, considering the two women had hardly interacted since the ruined wedding day.
But that only begged the question. Why was Elizabeth being so hostile towards the selkie after weeks of no contact? She had been just in the dark about Peggy's heartache as he had been.
Had his leaving with Peggy brought on such anger? Was Elizabeth truly that bitter and jealous that he had left her behind and was trying to help Peggy?
Or maybe the crew had been gossiping? Sailors could be as nosy as fish merchants' wives. Could Elizabeth have overheard things about the broken selkie bond and drawn her own conclusions?
Or had Jack been stirring up trouble again? But what would Jack have to gain by poisoning Elizabeth against Peggy? Surely he'd want the two of them to get along if only to avoid the headache of dealing with a pair of squabbling women. Unless…unless Jack was not just targeting Will in his revenge?
Will felt his stomach squirm as he glanced at Jack. If Jack could throw him under the bus with Jones for breaking Peggy's heart, then what might he have tried to do to Elizabeth while Will's back was turned? Did the pirate's hoodwinking go beyond a simple play on words?
Will's eyes narrowed as Elizabeth spared a pleading and beseeching glance to the pirate, only to be dismayed at his small smirk. He had never seen his fiancé look so flustered or unsettled before. Peggy's words might have been scathing and mocking, but they seemed to have struck a chord with Elizabeth. She appeared utterly betrayed that Jack might have used her for his selfish gain.
But this was Jack.
Everyone, even Peggy, one of Jack's closest confidants, knew he was a schemer and learned not always to trust him at face value. So why had Elizabeth thought she was an exception to the rule?
Had Jack tried to charm her with sweet assurances of his safety? Had he been playing the concerned, helpful friend in the hopes of hoodwinking her? Had Elizabeth been falling for such ploys?
Will glanced at Norrington, who had been silently watching everything from the sidelines.
When the man met his eye, Will felt his gut sink.
The expression on the ex-Commodore's face was not smug or amused; it was resigned and almost sympathetic. It was almost enough to make the anger bubble hotter in Will's gut.
And so to spare himself the growing frustration, he glanced back at Elizabeth, hoping to catch her eye for some answers, but found her once again glaring at Peggy.
Will stiffened at her hate-filled expression.
He could not see a trace of the sweet girl who had once saved him from that shipwreck. Where was the excited fiancée who had eagerly dragged him along to taste wedding cake samples and fiddly place settings? Or the young, determined young woman he had been trying to teach sword fighting to behind her father's back?
Even when facing Barbossa, there had been a grace and poise of a lady. But this creature before him, this bitter lioness whose lips pursed as she willed herself not to sneer…who was this woman?
As Will stared at Elizabeth, Peggy only spared the seething noblewoman one cold glance before turning her back on her to face Jack with a stern expression.
"Speaking of your shenanigans, we really have no time for this. Jones is closing in, and I don't know about you lot, but I don't want to be here when he does."
"I couldn't agree more," Will grunted, and everyone turned to look at him.
He was kneeling on the ground in front of a small iron chest. In one hand, the ancient iron key hung from its black cord, while in his other, he brandished a rusted knife.
"Oi!" Jack's eyes widened. "What are you doing?"
"I'm going to kill Jones." Will snarled, and Peggy's eyes widened in alarm at the cold gleam in his eye.
Peggy had only seen that expression once before, a couple of years ago…when he had thrashed Mister Brown black and blue for daring to try and pin her to the wall and force a kiss on her when he was nearly blind drunk.
Will was a strong man, thanks to all the years of labour he had done. But even when fighting for his life, he maintained restraint, only striking when in self-defence and rarely picking a fight. But that night…it was as if something inside of him had snapped.
She would never forget the blood on the blacksmith's fists or the sneer of malicious glee as he panted for breath and kicked their landlord in the ribs for as long as she lived. It was one of the few times in her life she had been terrified of the man she loved, and she had hoped she would never see him in such a state again.
Yet here it was now. That vicious, vindictive glee-
No…no, he couldn't do this. Killing in self-defence was one thing, but this was murder. If Will crossed that line even for someone like the Devil…No…no, he couldn't…
"Will no!" She knelt beside him, grabbing his arm before he could put the key in the lock. "No. Please don't-"
"Peg, it's okay. I've got this. If I kill Jones now, you'll be free. You and my father, you'll both be free." He hissed as he gently pushed her back off him, only to find a blade of sharp, cold steel suddenly pressed against the underside of his jaw.
"I wouldn't do that, William." Jack's grim murmur cut through the air as sharp as the cutlass in his hands "'Cause if you do, then who's to call his terrible beastie off the hunt ey?" The pirate's eyes were cold as he gently nudged the flat of the blade under Will's chin to prompt him to stand up.
Slowly, Will rose.
Jack made a quick hand motion to Peggy, who instantly recognised the command and obediently stepped away from Will.
The mere sight was enough to make the spark in the blacksmith's gut flare into a hot flame.
Why? Why would she still trust Jack after all the pain and heartache he put her through? Jack had betrayed her trust, left her for dead as a child, and when she had been at her most scared, had left her to the mercy of Jones with the belief she had been abandoned. Why was Peggy able to forgive all that but not forgive him, Will, who had never meant to hurt her and had scrambled around like a fool for weeks to win her trust back?
Oh, Jack must have felt so smug – Will thought bitterly as he sheathed the knife back in his belt – So smug to dangle Peggy's affection as if it were some prize to be won.
"Now, if you please, the key?" Jack held out a hand to Will, smirking as he caught sight of the seething rage in the younger man's eyes.
But then, in a flash, Will's hand quickly darted behind him to Elizabeth. At first, Peggy thought he was going to hold onto his precious fiancée once more, but then there was a flash of metal, and Elizabeth stumbled back a few paces, eyes wide with shock.
"Will!" Peggy cried out warningly, only to get pulled back fast by Annamaria.
"Watch it! Unless ye wanna get skewered?" The pirate woman growled as Will took a threatening step towards Jack, Elizabeth's blade now pointed back, ready to strike.
"I keep the promises I make, Jack." He snarled. "I intend to free Peggy and my father. I hope you're here to see it."
There was the slide of metal against leather, and Peggy groaned as Norrington pointed his own sword in Will's direction.
"I can't let you do that either." The man growled at the blacksmith, whose nostrils flared at the sight of this new challenger.
"James!" Annamaria's eyes widened with shock, and Peggy was astonished to hear a waver in her friend's voice, "James, what are you doing?"
"What I have to." Norrington clipped, quickly hiding the guilt in his face behind a calm, steely mask as he turned his attention back to Will "So sorry."
"I knew you'd warm up to me eventually," Jack smirked, only to find Norrington's blade turned on him while Will turned his blade on Norrington.
Quickly so as not to be left out, Jack turned his blade back on Will, completing the triangle of swords and making Peggy growl with frustration.
"Perfect, just perfect." She muttered under her breath, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Yes, let's whip out our fancy metal sticks. I'm sure that'll magically solve all the world's problems."
But if the three men heard her, they all ignored her in favour of sneering and staring one another down over the points of their swords.
"Lord Beckett desires the contents of that chest AND the return of both his daughters. If I can deliver at least one of those, I can get my life back." Norrington hissed softly, staring Jack down.
"Are you sure about that?" Peggy muttered grimly. "My father is not a good man, James. He doesn't give a reward without a price."
"It would be worth it," Norrington said, voice firm with conviction.
"Ah, the dark side of ambition." Jack sneered.
"Oh, I prefer to see it as the promise of redemption." The ex-naval officer sneered.
"Redemption?" Annamaria scoffed, but Peggy could see the betrayal brewing in her friend's brown eyes.
"Forgive me, Anna," Norrington muttered, his gaze softening for just a moment as it roved over Annamaria's distraught face. "But this is something I must do, or forever wish I had. My last shot, as it were."
And with that, he lunged.
Davy Jones snarled as he stared through the eyepiece of his spyglass.
Today was truly turning out to be a rotten one. With that, the selkie and her mate are stealing his key, and now Sparrow and his crew are finding his most precious of treasures.
Oh, how he could not wait to get his tentacles on them. To choke the life out of every one of the poor, miserable wretches that sailed aboard that black ship. Nothing would give him a greater pleasure than to hear their necks cracking asunder under his deadly grip.
He could see them now—two groups of people. The furthest were hard to gauge, but he could make out the red bandanna and drunken sway of Jack Sparrow in the distance with something metallic in his hands.
The group closer to them on the beach, however, was an odd little troupe, all loitering around a beached longboat.
Oh, for certain, the two buffoons playing the merry fools on the beach, one trying to balance a shovel in his hands while the other danced around him in case it fell.
Then in the longboat was a fair-haired figure of a man and two much smaller figures.
Children? Jack Sparrow had children in his keeping?
Was he going to sacrifice them to the Devil to save his own hide…or was this another sign of weakness? Did his fondness for whelps extend beyond the selkie brat and her lover?
And speaking of the selkie brat…
The Devil's gaze through the spyglass fixed on the children in the longboat, and his lip curled in a sneer.
Oh yes…This would work very nicely. Unlike mermaids, who were all scales and cold ice, selkies were warm and had hearts that bled like waterfalls. No selkie, not even one as cowardly as HER, would be able to stop themselves from being lured by what the devil had in mind.
"They're here!" He shoved his spyglass to one of his crew, "And I cannot step foot on land again for near a decade."
"You'll trust us to act in your stead?" Maccus frowned, and Jones rolled his eyes.
With so much at stake, he had no more patience left for questions.
"I'll trust you to know what awaits should you FAIL!" he snarled, taking pleasure in the way his men all flinched with fear at his tones. "You lot see them on shore!"
He thrust his claw hand to point in the direction of the longboat with its occupants.
Maccus nodded.
"There are two children there. Bring one of 'em to me"
"Sir?"
"I said bring one 'em to me! Alive and unspoiled if possible. Bring both if ye can manage it. Just make sure that selkie brat knows ye took 'em" he added in a snarl that made several of the men shrink back in fear "Let her see what her foolishness will cost her."
"Aye, Captain." The crew all shouted in unison, even as the Devil turned around to face them and shout.
"DOWN THEN!"
And with that command, the Flying Dutchman sank beneath the waves with nary a ripple or a splash, leaving nothing but a blue patch of sky where it had once been.
"Guard the boat, mind the tides, keep an eye on the kids! Bah!"
"I could join the circus."
"Mind if I shine your shoes, sir?"
"I can't believe we're stuck here with these two," Katrina mumbled darkly as she and Jimmy watched Pintel and Ragetti stumble around on the sandy beach. Ragetti was trying to balance a spare shovel on his hand like a circus performer while Pintel swore and made a big song and dance of 'keeping watch' while complaining about their situation.
The only one truly performing his duty was Sloane, who stayed silent as he perched on the prow of the boat behind Jimmy and Katrina, eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of trouble, his expression troubled. Katrina wished she could ask him what was wrong, but did not want to distract him from his task. What if there really was danger? Neither Pintel nor Ragetti seemed up to the task of being good lookouts.
"Could be worse." Jimmy snorted. "Uncle Jack could have left that Swann harpie behind."
"She's not all that bad, you know." Katrina sighed, her chest stinging as she remembered all those times she and Elizabeth had joked and laughed on the deck of the Speedwell. "She's actually quite nice when she's not all…" she trailed off, waving her hand vaguely in the motions that universally signalled 'being loopy.
Jimmy rolled his eyes.
"I'll believe it when I see it." He snorted. "But I don't see it, so I won't believe it now."
"You're impossible." Katrina rolled her eyes, and Jimmy snorted, tossing back his hair.
"If it were possible, I wouldn't be me."
"Oh, trying to be clever like your uncle?"
"I don't have to try to be clever."
"Yes, and I am the Pope."
"Hey!" Jimmy scowled, gently shoving Katrina, who smirked as she pushed him back.
"Oi!"
"What? You're the one who told me to loosen up and hit back."
"Yeah, but not that hard."
"I thought my hands were too soft and squishy to hurt, oh great and terrible pirate."
"Not my fault, I'm injured." Jimmy pouted, and Katrina's face fell as she looked at Jimmy's bound arm in its sling. He kept trying to play it off, but he was still very much tender and in pain. Even small movements seemed taxing on him.
"I'm…I'm sorry." She murmured sadly as Jimmy frowned at her. "I know my father ruined your mother's ship but-"
"Oh, don't start getting all mushy about me now." He groaned. "Ye know I don't actually blame you for any of that shite."
"You don't?" Katrina blinked in surprise, and Jimmy sighed.
"No. I don't. Yer not yer dad. You could never lift a finger to screw over a fly anyway."
"You don't know that," Katrina muttered
"Yes, I do," Jimmy grumbled. "We all do. Yer too soft and kind. Why the hell ye want to be a pirate is beyond me. You could have run off and gone anywhere ye pleased."
"Not really," Katrina murmured. "YOU could have run off and gone anywhere. You're a boy. Boys can be hired. They can make something of themselves from scratch. You can own land and conduct business. Me? What have I got to look forward to but to be sold off to some man like chattel? At least as a pirate, I can make something of myself."
"Anna doesn't need to do that." Jimmy jerked his head in the direction the pirate woman had disappeared with the rest of their group. "She helps run the Daggers, and people still respect her."
"Yes, but only after she earned a name for herself on a proper pirate ship. And she's still got her family." Katrina pouted bitterly, "Me…What good am I besides being a pretty doll whose only value is the ransom money her father will pay for to have her return to her cage before he tries to sell her off again?"
Jimmy stayed silent. He had not thought about it like that.
"Yer not as bad as all that, y'know?" he muttered, ears turning pink as he avoided her curious gaze. "I-I mean, just 'cause yer not good at chores yet don't mean you're useless. Ye just need practice."
"You're just saying that."
"Yeah, well, just because I'm sayin' it don't mean it's not true." he turned back to watch as Ragetti almost dropped the shovel, balancing on his palm. "It's like what my Ma says. We all got put on this earth for a reason, even if we can't see it yet."
"Your mother sounds like a wise woman."
"She is." Jimmy nodded, teeth gritting. "I just wish I knew where she was."
He fell silent as Katrina put a gentle hand on his uninjured one and squeezed it gently. Her grip tightened as the boat suddenly juddered.
"Get down!"
Katrina and Jimmy turned as Sloane hopped out of the boat and motioned to them hurriedly.
"Mister Sloane?" Katrina frowned.
"Get down. Get low! Now!" Sloane hissed, eyes darting worriedly to the horizon just behind one of the lush green heads of the island.
Jimmy cursed as he and Katrina caught sight of the shadow of a ship staining the blue sky behind like a greyish splodge.
They could not make out much of its features, but it was not the Pearl, and it was not flying any colours.
And was it just Katrina, or were those fangs she could see protruding in Sloane's mouth as he pushed her and Jimmy down to the bottom of the longboat and tossed a sheet of the canvas tent they had packed for the journey ashore over the top of the two youths.
"Stay in there, and whatever happens, don't come out." Sloane hissed.
"What the? HEY!" Katrina hissed to Jimmy, but the lad just shushed her hurriedly as he tugged her down.
As if on cue, there were two loud shouts followed by a groan.
Carefully, Katrina quietly lifted her head to peek out from under the edge of the canvas.
There, running off down the sands were Pintel and Ragetti, arms flailing while Sloane swore after them.
"Fools! Bloody fools!" the selkie male cursed viciously, his hand pushing down on the top of Katrina's head so that it didn't rise above the edge of the boat. "Stay down"
"Ow! What's going on?" Katrina muttered at Jimmy, "Is it the Company? Are we in danger?"
"Dunno," he whispered, "But I get the feelin' this ain't gonna be pretty."
"Stop it! Stop it, all of you!"
Elizabeth's shrill shrieks filled the air over the clang of swords and grunts of exertion from Will, Norrington and Jack as they all darted in and out under one another's arms, trying to snatch at the dangling cord of the iron key.
It was currently in Jack's hands, the pirate having successfully pinched it off Will during the scuffle.
Now both Norrington and Will lunged for the man, only for the former to kick at the latter to impede his progress.
"Will!" Elizabeth scrambled forward to check her fiancé for injuries, only to get shoved back roughly into the sand
"Guard the chest!" Will barked, not even sparing a single glance back for Elizabeth, whose nostrils flared indignantly.
"NO!" She snarled, but already Will had rejoined the fray.
"THIS IS BARBARIC!" Elizabeth shrieked, so loud that she startled several seagulls flying above her in the air, "THIS IS NO WAY FOR GROWN MEN TO – OH FINE! LET'S JUST HAUL OUT OUR SWORDS AND START BANGING AWAY AT EACH OTHER. THAT SHOULD SOLVE EVERYTHING! WELL, I'VE HAD IT! I'VE HAD IT WITH WOBBLY-LEGGED RUM-SOAKED PIRATES!"
"By all the sea gods old and new." Peggy sighed heavily, arms folded, as she and Annamaria stood by and watched the stupendous spectacle unfold in front of them.
There were the three fighters, Norrington, Jack and Will, moving further inland with their fight, while Elizabeth chased after them, throwing sand at them in a pathetic attempt to shock one of them into stopping.
All the while, the Dead Man's Chest lay there exposed and waiting on the beach by Peggy and Annamaria's feet.
"Shouldn't we try to stop them?" Annamaria grimaced, and Peggy noticed that the woman's eyes were fixed worriedly on Norrington's blue coat.
"You can if you want to." Peggy snorted, her glare sliding between Will and Elizabeth's backs. "But me? I'm done."
Annamaria's gaze fell upon her friend's face.
She hadn't really been paying much attention the first time she had hugged her friend earlier. She had been relieved to see the selkie, but confused by what was going on.
But now…now she cursed herself for being so blind.
The selkie was looking a lot paler than the last time they had met, and there was a sickly gauntness to her features that she had never seen before. Even under the sun, it seemed as if all the life was being sucked out of her as she stood there.
"Good god," the ex-smuggler breathed in horror.
"Anna-" Peggy shut her eyes, dreading the tears undoubtedly about to be shed.
"I thought Jack was being dramatic, but you really are-"
"yes…I am."
"And you were like that when you were-"
"Yes."
"You should have told me," Annamaria growled, though the undercurrent of sorrow softened it. "You needn't have suffered alone. Hell, I could have beaten some sense into Turner, or just beat him."
"Anna-"
"We're mates. We're crew. We look after one another, remember."
"I know." Peggy nodded, her gaze turning down to her toes in the sand "And I'm sorry. But I…I didn't want my last memory of you to be one of tears."
They both turned back to watch the fight as it moved further inland away from the beach and towards the greenery that made the island shine like an emerald jewel in the sun.
However, neither woman could really focus on the pandemonium anymore. It seemed so petty and meaningless compared to the grief they shared.
"What are you going to do now?" Annamaria asked after they watched Jack stumble over and Norrington grab the key, only for Will to tackle him. "Are you still in deep shit with Jones?"
"Oh yeah."
"But you're here on land?"
"Only because he's trying to milk whatever he can from me before he breaks me." Peggy grunted, "Dangle a stick and prod with the carrot, I don't know." She shook her head.
"It's the other way around", Annamaria snorted despite herself. "Stick prods and carrot lures."
"Whatever." Peggy rolled her eyes, wincing as Elizabeth let loose another shriek of frustration "Either way…he's won. Will's got his precious Elizabeth now, so I'm useless to him. Jack's got the key, so once he has the heart, he can get his freedom back and dump me for good."
"He won't"
"He will." Peggy muttered bitterly, "I've betrayed him in front of the entire crew, Anna. I've betrayed him to the Devil himself. If he doesn't let me go, he'll lose the Pearl to another mutiny. And the Pearl is his greatest treasure. No amount of grovelling on my part will ever put me on a higher pedestal than that ship."
"That's not true", Annamaria tried grabbing her hand, but Peggy drew it away sharply, avoiding her friend's eyes, only to wince as a shout rent the air.
But it wasn't the shrill feminine shrieks of Elizabeth.
It was the panicked shouts of two men.
"ANNA! ANNNNNAAA!"
"Oi ain't that Pegsy?"
"Blimey, you're right!"
"ANNA! PEGSY!"
"Pintel? Ragetti?" Peggy frowned, shielding her eyes from the sun as the pair of pathetically comedic pirates flailed their way to a stop in the sand just a few feet away, panting for breath.
"What the blazes are you two doin' here?!" Annamaria barked at them angrily, "You're supposed to be with the longboat!"
"We were!" Pintel puffed for breath, a nasty wheezing sound rattling from his throat that made Peggy cringe.
"So what are you doing here?" She asked.
"Dutchman!" Ragetti huffed as he bent over to catch his breath, hands on his knees, "Flyin' Dutchman. Saw it. on the water!"
"The Flying Dutchman?! Here!" Annamaria's eyes bulged, and Peggy swore softly.
"I knew she was fast…shit. She must have cut time by diving!"
"Aye! She did – 'ey! How'd ye know that?!" Pintel narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Peggy, only to get swatted on the shoulder by his mate.
"She works for Jones ya ninny" Ragetti hissed.
"Oh, right." Pintel nodded, though to Peggy's surprise, she saw no animosity from either man. Only panic.
They weren't the only ones.
Anna was positively seething now, possibly even more than Elizabeth, who had yet to notice any of the commotion behind her because she was still focused on shouting at the three fighting men in the distance.
"You left the boat alone!"
"What ya want us to do?" Pintel sneered. "Stay an' get sliced open by 'em fishy monsters?"
"There are children there in that boat ya fool!" Annamaria yelled and Peggy's eyes widened.
"Children? What children?" she asked.
"Yeah but they got that Sloane fella" Ragetti mumbled, a tad more sheepishly as Peggy turned her glare upon him.
"What children? Who did you bring along?"
"W-w-well ye see, Pegs the Painted Lady got sunk ya see and well…Lil Jimmy he got shipwrecked and well then when we got to Tortuga this other little girl named Kitty joined us and said she was yer sister-"
"Sister? Kitty?" Peggy almost puked as the realisation hit her with the suddenness of a nuclear bomb, "Katrina! WHAT? But she's…no. No, she can't be here!" Peggy cried out in dismay, "She's supposed to be with my father in Port Royal."
"Well, she ain't." Annamaria growled, fixing both Pintel and Ragetti in her glare "Word on the ship is she ran away from gettin' hitched with some stupid noble brat."
"And Jack brought her along?! HERE?! WITH JONES ON OUR TAIL?!" Peggy snarled, almost as shrill as Elizabeth now, as she rounded wildly on Pintel and Ragetti, who both backed away in alarm. "Where is she? Where's Jimmy? Where's the boat?!"
"B-B-back that way", Pintel stuttered, utterly terrified as he caught sight of the flash of silver in the selkie's eyes and the sharpening of her canine fangs in her mouth.
"J-just follow our tracks in the sand and yo-you'll find 'em! That blighter Sloane's with 'em." Ragetti gulped, leaping out of the way as Peggy all but charged towards them.
But instead of pursuing the two cowards, she kept following their tracks, her feet almost flying over the sand in her terror.
"PEGGY! PEGGY WAIT!" Annamaria called, growling in frustration as Peggy ignored her and continued running. "You two! Stay here! And keep that one out of trouble." She barked, pointing a harsh finger in Elizabeth's direction. The young noblewoman had finally given up on screaming, had tried her hand at pretending to faint from heatstroke to grab the men's attention and was now sitting on the sand cross-legged, pouting moodily as she watched the three men in the distance continue their petty fight.
"Aww. Babysittin'? Again?" Ragetti groaned, but Annamaria paid him no heed as she began darting over the sands after Peggy, drawing her own sword from her hip.
She was hardly gone a few seconds before Pintel and Ragetti turned their eyes towards the iron chest lying there beside a deep hole in the sand.
"Blimey. That chest must be worth more than a shiny penny," Pintel sneered, eyes twinkling even as he made a pathetic attempt to sound nonchalant.
"Oh, yes, terrible temptation." Ragetti nodded oh-so-sombrely, though his companion could see the gleam in his one good eye as clear as daylight.
"Yeah, if we was any kind of decent, we'd remove such temptation from their path, ey?" Pintel gave what he thought was a conspiratorial wink, though it looked more like the mockery of an overly dramatic twitch on one side of his face.
Ragetti grinned.
Meanwhile, a few feet away, Elizabeth huffed as she folded her arms.
Blasted men! Blasted Selkies! Curse all of them! If her throat weren't so sore from all that yelling, she might have screamed even louder in her frustration.
What fools those three men were! Fighting and squabbling like children. Could they not see that they could all use the chest in turn and get what they wanted without violence?
She wondered what would happen if she just grabbed the shovel nearby and joined in the fray, and turned to fetch the tool, only to spot Pintel and Ragetti running swiftly behind her.
Between them, jangling heavily, a familiar, small, dark iron chest.
The Dead Man's Chest.
"Bloody pirates!" she snarled as she leapt to her feet and ran after the pair.
Damn you. Damn you all to hell.
What the hell? What the hell? Why? Why is Katrina here? Why in all that is good and holy is she here of all places? Peggy's heart almost flew out of her chest as she almost tripped over a dune, her bare feet burning after being in contact with the hot white sands. The tide was coming in, soon the sands would be covered in water, and when they were, she'd have nowhere to hide from the Devil, but she didn't care.
No-no-no!
She gasped as she scrambled back to her feet, the sounds of snarls, grunts and sharp metal clanging hitting her ears.
Her heart sank as she drank in the scene on the beach before her.
There was the tall, fair-haired form of Sloane standing with his back to one of the Black Pearl's familiar, coloured longboats. In front of him, two members of the crew of the Flying Dutchman stood weapons drawn as he pushed them back with a swift but brutal counter.
So invested in the fight was the selkie male that he failed to notice the third shadow of Angler creeping around the other side of the long boat, arms outstretched to snatch at two shorter figures trying to scramble away in the boat.
One of them was a boy with tanned skin and dark hair, half wrapped in a bandage with one of his arms in a sling. The other was a girl with long, brown curls and a frightened, pale face, her wide grey eyes staring out.
"NO!"
Angler's hands paused mid-air as Peggy lunged for him, her nails extending into claws at the last second.
"GAHHGHA", he cried as the sharp nails slid deep cuts into the back of his neck, and the female selkie hauled him back and tossed him into the hot sand.
"What the?" The girl in the boat squeaked in alarm while the young boy beamed with joy.
"PEGGY?! PEG is that you?!"
The shouts were enough to surprise the other two cursed crewmen on the other side of the boat and give Sloane enough time to force them a few feet back with two clever swipes of his sword.
"Good to see you still alive and kicking, Miss Blake." The male selkie called, half-smiling, half-grimacing as he wiped a cut on his cheek.
"You too," Peggy grunted as she rolled her shoulders and squared up to face her opponent, who was lumbering to his feet with a sneer.
"Well, well, well, boys! Look 'oo it is!" Angler snarled.
Behind her on Sloane's side of the boat, one of the cursed crewmen chuckled raspily. It was Penrod, who looked like a giant mutated lobster. Beside him was Ratlin, one of the older members of the crew who looked like he had been carved out of an old mast and sheet.
Ratlin, Penrod and Angler. Three of Davy Jones's most loyal dogs. But where was the chief hound Maccus?
Probably leading the others to the Chest. Peggy realised with dread as she glared Angler down. He had always hated her. She had never been sure why, but he had always been one of the loudest to jeer with pleasure every time the captain punished her.
Well, this time she'd have the last laugh.
"The Cap'in said ye couldn't resist showin' yer mug to save this lot." Angler sneered, one of his eyes, a milky white monstrous growth on one side of his face, gleaming wickedly as he looked Peggy up and down. "Looks like 'e was right."
"You touch a hair on either of their heads, you're dead meat", Peggy snarled, and Angler chuckled.
"We can't die kid. Only the captain can let us die. An' he don' want us to die until we bring YOU back with us."
"Not happening." Peggy snarled only to shiver as Penrod hissed behind her.
"You don't have a choice, girlie. The captain gave orders! And they must be obeyed by all of us."
"Part of the ship. Part of the crew." Ratlin groaned, his wood-like mouth hardly able to move. So weathered was he that he hardly resembled a man save for his general bipedal shape.
"Part of the ship", Penrod echoed maliciously as he and Angler advanced on their victims.
"The tide's comin' in, brat." Angler growled and sure as eggs Peggy saw through the corner of her eye the waves lapping higher and higher up the beach, inching their way towards the end of the boat "The first drops o' water that touch yer skin and yer ours."
"Part of the ship, part of the crew," Ratlin murmured, repeating the line under his breath over and over with such reverence, like a monk chanting a prayer to the highest of gods.
"Part of the ship, part of the crew,"
"Ye want to save yer little friends, ye gotta get wet." Angler took a few steps sideways so the edges of the waves lapped at his booted fee,t much to Peggy's dismay.
"Part of the ship, part of the crew,"
Now Ratlin had taken up the chant as he took the advantage and lunged at Sloane, knocking him aside with a hard fist lined with barnacles that sliced against the selkie's jaw.
"Mister Sloane!" Katrina cried out in horror, grabbing fast at Jimmy before he could lunge forward, oar in hand.
"Part of the ship, part of the crew,"
"Ye mangy cur! Get back!" the young lad thrust the oar at the cursed crewman, only to have Ratlin grab it with a large, strong hand.
With a harsh tug, Ratlin hauled the oar from the lad's hands and hit him squarely across the jaw.
With a heavy thud, Jimmy fell backwards into the longboat, completely out cold.
But Peggy had no time to check on the boy, for Angler lunged for the bow of the boat and began pulling, dragging it towards the water with his bare hands.
"Part of the ship, part of the crew,"
"JIMMY! JIMMY! Jimmy, wake up!" Katrina called as she desperately scrambled for the boy, trying to slap his cheeks.
"KATRINA LOOK OUT!" Peggy called, but it was too late.
Before Katrina could even duck, Penrod's arms shot out and grabbed her tight.
"Ooh, lookie here! Ain't you a pretty doll?" He sneered with malicious glee as he hauled the young girl back towards the edge of the boat.
She squirmed and wriggled and thrashed in his arms, but she might as well have stayed limp for all the good it did as she was carried off the boat to be held knee deep in the shallow water, the waves crashing hard against her calves.
"You bastard!" Peggy leapt towards the fiend, claws outstretched, only to hold herself back at the last moment as the sharp, rusty blade of a small knife suddenly pressed into her sister's neck.
"Part of the ship, part of the crew,"
"Ah-uh-uh! I woudn't do that if I were you," Penrod sniggered, a coarse rattling malicious sound that made the hair stand up on the back of Peggy's neck stand on end.
In his arms, Katrina stilled like a statue, trembling from head to foot as tears sprang from her grey-blue eyes and slid down her cheeks.
"Peggy, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!" She whispered.
"It's alright, Katrina! It's alright. Everything is going to be alright." Peggy's voice shook slightly as she put a hand up in token of peace to Penrod, sheathing her claws. "Let her go, Penrod. Let her go. She's not part of this."
"Oh, but she is." Penrod hissed as Ratlin lumbered through the water towards them. "Captain ordered us to take one of the kiddies, didn't he?"
"Part of the ship, part of the crew,"
"No…" Peggy breathed. "No."
"He can't!" All eyes turned to see Sloane wading through the water towards them, slightly dazed and bruised in the face, but with green eyes alight with silver fire.
"Davy Jones is the Ferryman of souls. He can't take a human soul that's not dying or dead"
"He can if it's in exchange for another," Penrod growled. "An' Sparrow still owes 'im a hundred souls."
"No!" Peggy and Sloane both shouted in unison, the latter balking forward.
Ratlin was quick to block Sloane's path, the selkie desperately struggling to shove his way past the cursed man.
There were splashes as the pair of them grabbed, swiped and grappled at one another; however, since Ratlin was more wooden ship than flesh, any mark Sloane's claws made was surface damage at best.
"Mister Sloane! Please help!" Katrina wept only to gasp as the sharp edge of the knife pressed into her throat and pricked the skin ever so slightly.
Peggy's nostrils flared as she smelled the metallic iron hit the air.
But the water was right there. One drop against her skin…
Something heavy thudded against her back. She shrieked, and suddenly, the world tilted forward.
"Oh no, ya don't!"
There was a thud behind Peggy and a man's cry of pain.
"AHG!" she cried out as she quickly caught herself from falling and pushed herself back upright.
"JIMMY!" Katrina called, elation overpowering her fear for a moment, and Peggy looked up in time to see Angler bent backward as Jimmy Labelle squeezed his thick neck as tight as he could with the cloth of his arm sling.
There was sweat on the poor boy's pale face as his fractured arm ached from the effort, the splint that had been applied only just keeping his wrist and forearm safe from further breakage.
Meanwhile, on the beach, there was a shout as Annamaria charged Ratlin from the side, her cutlass swiping hard and getting stuck in the wooden arm of the cursed man.
Ratlin let out a roar of pain that sounded like the groan of creaking floorboards, but still he did not fall.
In a blind rage, he swiped at Annamaria, pushing her and her blade back, only to receive a face full of claws from Sloane, who tackled him into the water.
Angler, meanwhile, struggled against the cloth around his neck. He may not be able to die by any other hand but his Captain's, but he could still get knocked out.
However, Jimmy was getting tired. His arm was throbbing, and the new blow to his face had shaken him badly. Peggy could see him faltering with each passing second.
"Let go, Jimmy!" She commanded. At once, Jimmy let go, and Peggy wasted no time in grabbing a spare oar from the boat and slamming it hard on the brute's skull.
"And stay that way!" She snarled as she shoved the unconscious creature back into the shallow waters over the side, only to curse as she caught sight of Penrod.
He was wading further back into deeper water, Katrina shrieking as she struggled against his hold. The water was almost at the poor girl's chest now and getting deeper and deeper.
Could she swim? Was she drowning? She was thrashing so much that it was making it hard for Peggy to see her clearly.
Peggy looked back at Sloane. He and Annamaria were still struggling to pin down Ratlin, who was giving them both a hard time as he threw his weight around. Jimmy, meanwhile, was cringing as he slumped in the longboat, tears streaming down his face in agony as he clutched his damaged arm.
Peggy looked down at the water, then back at the mainland.
She could feel her pelt somewhere there with Will. Given that she wasn't writhing on the floor in agony, she could only assume that he had not gotten it sliced or damaged in his fight with Jack or Norrington. Not that Jack would ever let anything happen to her pelt if he could help it.
But what did it matter?
She thought bitterly.
Will had Elizabeth now to chase after. Jack had the Pearl, and Norrington was chasing lost glory…
What did she have?
What did she have besides dying alone and insane at the bottom of a ship? Dutchman or Pearl? What did it matter where or whose colours she sailed under? She was a dead woman walking anyway.
But Katrina…Katrina…she was young…innocent…She had so much to live for…a whole life ahead.
Peggy looked back at the thrashing, screaming girl as memories of long ago flooded her mind.
Memories of pain…of beatings…cold, harsh winds whipping her bare back as a belt slammed down in the rain…The Devil's pale eyes shining in the lightning of a storm as he sneered down at her from high above.
"Fine." She whispered, sucking in a deep breath as she hopped to the edge of the boat and looked down into the clear ocean water. "You want me back, Jones! Fine! You can have me back. But you are not taking HER!"
SPLASH!
Peggy shut her eyes as the cold wet hit her toes, doing her best to ignore the panic that was not her own as it spiked in her head, or the voice of Will echoing in her mind.
"NO PEGGY, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"
"Goodbye, Will Turner."
"PEGGY NO! PEGGY!"
Notes:
And there you have it! Everyone is back together. Well, almost together.
This chapter took me a little while because I was trying to find an organic way to include Annamaria in the mix, as she wasn't present in the original DMC movie. I feel kind of bad for her and Norrington, TBH, but ah well. He's still stuck in his Zuko-esque "must regain my honour by any means neccessary" character arc, and you know anyone who follows that arc's gotta stuff up big time before they can actually rise up again.
Poor Katrina and Jimmy were having a really rough time of it (I'm not going to lie, I'm feeling a little guilty about putting them in danger, but well...you bring kids into the mix, and things are going to get messy).
Not to mention Peggy getting tossed overboard a second time in one day. Yikes, she can't catch a break. Will we get to an even three in the next chapter? Who knows ;) I never meant for it to become a thing, but I didn't really realise until I wrote this chapter that Peggy has now fallen overboard AT LEAST four times by now. I never intended for it to keep happening, but it just did XD. It's kinda like how Will survives so many shipwrecks, or how all the men who kiss Elizabeth all end up dying in the original trilogy.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it. Please keep reading, reviewing, following, and faving for more.
Thanks
FuzzyBeta
Chapter 32: A Double-Edged Sword
Summary:
"Look what I got! I got a jar of di~rt! I got a jar of di~rt! And guess what's inside it!"
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
"Got to get back to the ship! Got to get back to the ship," Jack Sparrow hissed repeatedly as he ran helter-skelter across the burning white sands of Isla Cruces, one arm flailing while the other clutched at the precious yet slimy treasure he had stuffed down his shirt to prevent it from slipping around.
He couldn't believe it.
He really could not believe it.
He had the Heart of Davy Jones right here in his clutches.
Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
Jack shuddered as the slippery, meaty, throbbing organ pulsed against his chest beneath his shirt, almost in time with his own heartbeat.
It was not the first time he'd had to handle some innards, though usually it was fish or animal guts from the rare occasion he had to fend for himself in the wilderness, or the occasional human remains from a gruesome fight.
But this? This was disgusting even by his standards. And he had seen a lot of god awful things in his chaotic life.
This heart was still very much alive.
But it wouldn't be for long. No. Once he had the damn thing back to his ship, he'd get that bastard Devil to undo all his foul work, and then he'd skewer him good and proper. Yes…good and proper like a fishstick, and he'd be free for good.
If only that bastard whelp had not tried to ruin his plans again, though Jack could understand the lad's desperation.
This time it wasn't just his damsel in trouble with the Devil. It was the boy's own father.
That was family, and whatever anyone said about Jack Sparrow, not even Jack would fault Will Turner for wanting to do anything in his power to free his father from his dismal fate.
Which only made it more infuriating that the stupid young man had started this bloody, ridiculous fight for the chest in the first place.
The fool. He wasn't the only one who gave a damn about Bootstrap and Peggy. Jack would have gladly freed the two of them from the Devil's clutches if that stupid boy had not decided that he was the enemy for some reason.
Not for the first time, Jack found himself wondering what the hell Peggy ever saw in the lad.
She was usually a clever and discerning girl. How could she have such a terrible taste in men?
He grimaced as he paused to look around the beach and get his bearings.
It took him a couple of hurried scans of the vista before he saw several figures around the long boat.
Several figures fighting furiously.
Jack whimpered as he looked back the way he came.
He couldn't go back into the jungle. More of Jones's louts would be there, as would the stupid whelp and damn Norrington.
He looked back at the longboat.
Blast it. He'd have to risk it. At least the jar of dirt was there. That was what he really needed now.
He sucked in a deep breath and began running towards the boat, eyes narrowing as he took in the scene unfolding before him.
Annamaria and Sloane were fighting off one member of Jones's crew on the beach, the woman with her sword, while the male selkie swiped and grappled with his claws and strength. He was managing surprisingly well against his foe, a creature that looked more like an animated humanoid piece of ship rigging.
"Oi KIT! AGH!" a voice yelled in pain.
Jack's eyes found the longboat, which, to his annoyance, was already being dragged into the shallow waters by another one of Jones's men. In the longboat were Peggy and Jimmy, the latter cringing and clutching his injured arm while Peggy stood perched on the edge of the longboat, staring in horror at the deeper waters.
Jack followed his cabin girl's gaze, and his gut jolted nastily.
There, being dragged away by a third member of Jones's crew was little Katrina Beckett. The poor girl's doll-like face was pale, waterlogged and terrified as her screams were swallowed in the rough choppy waters. Behind her, her captor held a sword to her throat as he jeered and cackled loudly at Peggy's distress. Though his words were barely audible over the shouts on the beach and the crashing waves, the meaning could not be clearer.
"Shit." Jack grimaced as he looked back at Peggy just in time to see her leap from the boat and into the water.
As she did, the slippery heart of the Devil beneath Jack's shirt clenched and sped in its beating, and a voice echoed through his head.
"Mine…all mine…"
"Aww hell!" Jack groaned as his legs lengthened their strides. That stupid, stupid girl. What was she thinking?
No, Jack knew what she was thinking. She was probably thinking she could not let an innocent child die at the hands of that Devil. Damn that soft, mushy heart of hers. She really needed to learn to protect it better. There was only so much Jack could do to protect it himself when he had his own issues to worry about.
"Dammit, Pegsy! You really put your foot in it, didn't ya?" he grunted as he ran closer, watching as the brown tail of Peggy's seal form slid beneath the water. He wasn't the only one who spotted it. The two other members of Davy Jones' crew suddenly retreated into the water, but not before the one on the beach managed to knock Sloane a cracking blow across the face.
"Shit! PEGGY!" Annamaria roared at the ocean, rushing forward into the shallows.
"No, Anna! Get back!" Sloane grabbed the woman, holding her back just in time to avoid the slice of a sword aimed for her chest. However, before Annamaria could aim a counterattack, the cursed crewman leapt backwards into the deeper waters.
"COME ON, RATLIN!" His mate growled as he let go of the bow of the longboat and dove to start swimming in the crystal-clear shallows.
Ratlin groaned with savage frustration at being denied the chance to finish his bout. However, he obeyed the command. Despite his lumbering, large size, he was swift to descend into the shallow waters, avoiding Sloane and Annamaria as they chased after him. Their progress was slowed as they waded further into the shallows.
"Bastard!" Annamaria growled, but Sloane kept her back.
"Don't! You can't kill them."
"Watch me!" she snarled.
Sloane redoubled his grip.
"I meant it!" he hissed "They're undead. The only one who can kill them is their captain. Only by his hand can it be done."
"But Peggy and Kitty-" Jimmy shouted, and Sloane groaned.
"I know!" the selkie male sighed. "But Blake is a capable fighter. Whatever is said and done, she knows her way around a sword. And I have no doubt she'll fight tooth and nail to defend her sister."
"Damn tootin' right she will!" Jack called, shocking everyone.
"Uncle Jack!" Jimmy cried out in relief.
"YOU!" Annamaria shouted, nostrils flaring. "You idiot! You should have stayed with Peggy!"
"I would've if that damned whelp hadn't been a bloody idiot!" Jack rolled his eyes.
"By Poseidon, what did Turner do this time?!" Sloane groaned, eyes scanning the horizon for the blacksmith.
"What did he do? Stupid rat ruined everythin' as per the usual!" Jack spat hotly as he waded clumsily to the boat, "Bloody idiot's so pigheaded when he gets on a roll. I swear! When this is all over, I'm gonna skin 'im alive meself!"
His kohl-lined eyes widened as he noticed a shadow lumbering out of the waters behind Annamaria and Sloane.
"Look out!" he called.
There were cries as Annamaria and Sloane jumped apart to avoid being caught by the net thrown at them.
There was a vicious snarl as another crewman of the Flying Dutchman, cursed with a head that looked like a horrendous ribbed mixture of seahorse and human, leapt out of the shadows of the boat towards them.
Jack, swift as anything, quickly grabbed his jar of dirt and opened it with a harsh tug.
"Uncle Jack?" Jimmy whimpered where he lay, only to get shushed by his elder.
"Shh! Not a peep!" he hissed as he quickly shoved some dirt aside to make room within, accidentally dislodging some of it onto the seat. With a grunt, he pressed the heart of Davy Jones inside, swirling it around so that the earth within the glass could cover it more fully before stuffing all the spilled dirt on top to shield it from view.
Jimmy was whimpering and cringing in pain as he tried to shift into a more comfortable position in a lower part of the boat, where he could remain hidden from further danger.
"'m sorry, Uncle Jack! 'm sorry. I couldn't…they took her-mmn"
The pathetic sounds made Jack's gut squirm uncomfortably. Gods being with Peggy had turned him into a softie. But this was his nephew, so maybe it could be excused.
"Just stay down, lad." He hissed as he threw a piece of canvas over the boy to cover him and tucked the jar of dirt in a lower part of the boat, not a moment too soon.
No sooner had he sealed the jar shut than another cursed man that looked like a puffer fish lunged for him out of nowhere.
With a yelp, Jack grabbed at one of the spare oars in the boat and slapped the creature in the face, not noticing the crowd of cursed crew and his own crew shouting and clanging swords on the beach…or the giant miller's wheel hurtling its way through the trees towards the water.
"Captain! CAPTAIN! They've got 'em! They've got a child and the selkie rat is on 'er way back."
"Good. Good. And the Pearl?"
"We're comin' up on 'er starboard side."
"Excellent. Clear the deck, lads, so we may give our guests a proper welcome."
"wahhhhhhhgghghghgh!"
"AHHHHHHHHHHH!"
SPLASH!
Cold water rose high in the air as the giant milling wheel fell sideways and crashed down into the shallows of Isla Cruces.
The jolt was so jarring and so biting that it made Will Turner almost cry out in pain as his body slammed into the water, drenching him from head to foot once more.
What the…what the hell just happened? He thought as he stumbled to his feet and slumped over the side of the wheel, brain spinning as his eyes saw double, no quadruple, of Norrington, who was also clambering to clumsily to his feet.
Norrington, that scoundrel. Playing up his misfortune and then turning on them all. What was Jack thinking, bringing such a man along? He hated Jack, he hated Will, and he wanted revenge. Why the hell had he been allowed to come along when it was clear to anyone with eyes that he would turn on them all when the tide was favourable?
And Peggy? What was her deal with the man? Why had she addressed Norrington by his given name? Since when had she gotten close enough to him? Then again, it had been months since he had gotten stranded by the hurricane, and Norrington was working with Annamaria. Maybe they had met one another in the last few months in Tortuga?
But to call him by his first name? Just how friendly had they become? And why was Will the last to know about it?
A small voice in the back of Will's head warned him about his jealousy. It was not the time or place, and it was petty of him to care in the grand scheme of things. Yet it curdled in his gut along with his fear as he felt the warning tingling of Peggy's pelt against his skin from where he had tucked it beneath his shirt.
She was in trouble. Had Jones got her? Was she fighting for her life? She was in trouble, and he could not see her or do anything to help. All because of Norrington's interference and Jack's meddling.
He glowered blearily at Norrington as he tried to clamber over the side of the wheel and out into the water. Norrington followed his lead, the two of them splashing hard into the cold, biting waters below and scrambling quickly to the surface, thighs and arms burning from exertion.
The fight had been an arduous one. Arduous and ridiculous. Then again, anything involving Jack Sparrow was bound to devolve into utter chaos.
Will was not sure how he and his two combatants came to be on the large mill wheel, or how Jack had fallen off while he and Norrington had stayed on it long enough as it rolled down through the forest all the way down to the white sandy beach where the crew of Davy Jones was fighting with the small shore party of Jack Sparrow and the Pearl.
He could see Elizabeth, Pintel and Ragetti all fighting their hardest against the cursed men. Elizabeth had managed to find herself a sword while Pintel and Ragetti armed themselves with a net and a shovel, respectively. They were working pretty well despite the handicap. Will had to admit that he was impressed that Elizabeth could hold her own, given her limited experience. Even with his lessons, he had not been sure she would be able to handle herself in a fight.
Well, he supposed she must have had a knack for it, or her survival instinct really was just that powerful.
Then he saw a flash of steel in another direction and heard an almost animalistic snarl. There was Annamaria and Sloane, the smuggler fighting with a sword while the selkie grappled, clawed and bit wildly at his opponents.
Will stared aghast at the sight. He recalled Peggy looking ferocious when she had punched him, but he had never truly realised just how deadly a selkie's claws or fangs were in combat. From what Will could tell at this distance, Sloane's claws were sharp enough to carve through the tough flesh of his opponent's thick neck with ease, making the creature back away and clutch at the bleeding waterfall that cascaded down its front.
It would not die. It couldn't be killed. But a throat strike was still heavy damage and would impede its ability to breathe, even if only for a little while.
A shape flailed around in the corner of Will's vision, and he scowled as he caught sight of a familiar head of dreadlocks, fighting off a pufferfish-faced man with an oar right by the side of a large, sooty black longboat in which a tinier human figure was cringing and trying to hide beneath a sheet.
But he could not see Peggy anywhere.
He remembered her words in his head from before as he had been rolling down the hill.
"Goodbye, Will Turner."
His eyes swerved in Jack's direction again, and to the shadow of the two ships in the distance behind the man. No, he could not have gone back to Jones.
She couldn't have gone back there!
Not now.
Not when they were so close to freeing her.
"Right!" Will snarled, feeling his gut burn as he stumbled, his entire world spinning as his dizzy body turned completely the wrong direction, while Norrington stumbled toward Jack as well.
Unlike the blacksmith, the former Commodore had shut his eyes through most of the spinning of the wheel and thus had been a lot less dizzy when they had hit the water.
Now, as he ran through the shallows all the way to the longboat, he could feel his mind returning to clarity.
This was it. This was his chance. Jack was distracted by that vermin, Turner was too discombobulated to stand properly and Annamaria…
Norrington stopped for breath at the side of the longboat, chancing a small, worried glance back to the shoreline.
The first thing he saw was the fair-haired form of Sloane behind her, locked in a wrestling match with an unarmed assailant, his shirt half ripped by the spines on his opponent's body.
Then he saw Annamaria beside the man fighting valiantly against two of those accursed creatures with a sword all on her own. She was good. Better than some men Norrington had trained. But not even she could last long against two aggressors.
It took everything Norrington had to force his legs not to run back to help her at once.
He would help her, eventually. He just needed to do this first. He had to. If he didn't, then what good was he?
It did not take him long to find the letters of Marque tucked away beside a bundle of rags that, on closer inspection, seemed to be hiding a shivering bundle.
"Jimmy?" he gulped anxiously. Oh no. If that boy or that girl had seen what he was about to do…
"Shh!" Jimmy hissed beneath the canvas. "Captain told me to hide!"
Norrington relaxed slightly but was more careful in his movements. Quickly, he tucked the letters of Marque into his inner coat pocket, eyeing the rest of the boat. It was quite messy, covered in dirt, wait, dirt?
Norrington's eyes fell upon the Jar of Dirt that was sitting on one of the seats. Was it just him, or was there crusted wet dirt around the edges of the lid?
He peered closer at the container…and gasped.
Peggy's heart was racing so fast she was sure it would give out if she even dared to slow her pace through the water.
Never had she ever swum so fast in her life, in human or selkie form. It seemed like mere minutes that she had left the beach after Penrod and Katrina's splashing bodies, and now here she was swiftly approaching the rotting barnacle-encrusted bottom of the Flying Dutchman's hull at such a speed she was sure she would collide with it had she not been so agile.
Peggy's seal muzzle curled in a snarl as her sensitive whiskers sensed something deep beneath her in the water.
She looked down, her seal eyes far better underwater than any eagle in the sky.
Beneath her was a deep, rather wide underwater trench. While there was coral and colourful sea life speckled along the upper rim, within the walls, it was barren and sharp, with a few holes here and there in the rock where smaller creatures could make their homes or use for ambush hunting. It was such a steep drop that one could almost not see the bottom.
The only reason Peggy knew there even was a bottom was because she could see the massive shadow of something shifting and coiling and unfurling like a gigantic sea anemone.
But Peggy knew it was no benign polyp.
She shivered and swam faster, doing her best to ignore the instinctive prickling on the back of her neck that alerted her animal brain to the danger below and around her…around her?
Sharks. She grimaced as she looked back up and noticed several of the predators at a distance.
They must have followed the Kraken after its first attack, hoping to scavenge more scraps after its next kill.
Would they attack her before she had a chance to reach the Dutchman?
No. She couldn't give in to panic. The Kraken would not attack her yet. Not when its master had ordered it to stay put.
The Kraken was a last resort, an insurance. But Peggy knew the Devil would hold off on using it today.
He wanted Jack. He wanted Will, and he wanted her to pay. And he wanted them all to pay by his hand directly.
Penrod had already vanished out of sight long ago with his captive, using that strange, occult mode of teleportation via shadows that his captain was so fond of utilising for his late-night visits. Tia Dalma had called it a "shadow step" and said all creatures and beings of a chthonic nature had the gift.
Peggy, being only of the nature of the sea, never would be able to use it, not unless Davy Jones made good on his word and made her a part of his crew for good. Then perhaps he might allow her to use the ability, if he gave his permission under certain circumstances.
But it would seem today was not that day.
No. Today was a day for punishment.
For twisting the knife and digging it in further. Why else would he target Katrina so pointedly on the beach? He could have gone for any one of Jack's crew. He could have gone for Will. He could have gone for Gibbs, Marty or Cotton? He could have gone for Annamaria or Elizabeth merely because they were women and thus 'easier' targets.
But no.
Jones chose the young girl to lure Peggy back into his net.
Peggy doubted that the Devil knew she had a sister, but it didn't matter.
Sister or stranger, Jones knew Peggy could not resist trying to stop history repeating itself.
Well, she'd show him.
Hold on, Katrina! Just hold on! I'm coming! I'm coming!
Katwhack!
Jack grinned smugly as he drew the oar away and watched Will Turner's unconscious body slump into the longboat.
God, that felt good. He had been holding himself back for far too long, if only because he had been worried that killing or hurting the whelp would only do more damage to Peggy's soul.
Oh well. At least Jones's meddling had done one good thing. It separated the whelp from his cabin girl long enough for Jack to get some good hits in behind her back. Yes, Peggy might slap him later for it, but it would be worth it, if only to make Jack feel better.
"Leave him lie!" Jack shouted as Elizabeth dashed forward to check on her 'beloved' fiancé, and Jimmy peeked out from under his hiding spot. "Unless you plan on using him to hit something with!"
He raised his oar as the remainder of his shore crew, Norrington, Sloane, Annamaria, Pintel, Ragetti and Elizabeth, all backed into their vessel, weapons raised.
They were surrounded by cursed crewmen, snarling and jeering with wicked pleasure as they closed in a ring around them.
"We're not getting out of this." Elizabeth gulped as she tried desperately to look for an opening, glancing sidelong at Sloane, who also shook his head as he too searched for an opportunity.
"Not with the chest." Norrington agreed, turning and grabbing at the Dead Man's Chest, which still had the key slotted in place.
"James!" Annamaria gasped, eyes widening like saucers, "James! What are ye doing?"
"Giving you a chance." He hissed, chest tightening as he saw the worry on the smuggler's face as she tried grabbing at him. "Get into the boat!"
"You're mad!"
"Don't wait for me."
"James!" Annamaria called, but it was too late. Norrington had seized the chest and leapt straight into the ring of attackers.
They were so surprised by his actions that a few of them stumbled back, giving him the opportunity to aim a swipe with his sword in one hand while the other wildly swung the chest to bludgeon another man who tried to grab at him.
"JAMES!" Annamaria tried rushing after him, but Sloane and Elizabeth both grabbed at her arms and held her back tight to avoid being sliced at by a random attacker who wielded a sword made from a sawfish's saw.
"I-I say we respect his final wish!" Jack called and their attackers swiftly backed away from the group to start chasing Norrington and the chest.
Well, good luck to them. Jack smirked as he glanced down at his precious jar of dirt clutched tight to his nephew Jimmy's chest.
Still, Jack could not deny feeling a little bad. He chanced a glance back at Annamaria's distraught face as she stood in the shallows watching hollowly as Norrington's blue-clad form vanished into the green vegetation of the island, pursued closely by greying shadows.
"Anna." He murmured, putting a hand on her shoulder, which she shrugged off roughly.
Then she started to run back to the beach.
"Oi! Oi Anna!" Pintel called out in surprise.
"What the blazes is she doin'?!" Ragetti frowned, and Sloane groaned in frustration.
"Gods damn it!" He turned to run after the woman, but Jack held him back.
"Let 'er go." The pirate muttered, and Elizabeth was surprised to see the sombre, sad gleam in his usually wicked, mischievous eyes. "She's made her choice."
Peggy sniffed the air as she surfaced near the starboard bow of the Flying Dutchman.
She had hardly noticed it earlier when escaping the Kraken, but the Dutchman seemed less threatening under the light of day.
The ragged sails looked like limp scraps in the luffing winds, and the rotted wood of the hull looked rather shabby and depressing. Her seal's nose wrinkled as she picked up the pungent aroma of rotting fish and corpses that was the undead ship's usual scent.
But then she smelled something new, something distinctly human. It was stressed if the composition of the sweat was anything to go by, but beneath it all, Peggy detected its owner's true essence. Something soft and floral mixed with vanilla and fresh linen, and a hint of ink.
Katrina! She sighed. She was still alive. Somewhere below deck if she had any guess.
Got to get in. Got to get a weapon. Peggy hissed in annoyance as she smoothly slid into her human form.
She was still unsure whether she understood how she was able to transform painlessly without her pelt, but she wasn't about to complain.
She clambered up the side of the Dutchman like a spider, using the random netting and rotted wood boards to carefully slide her way across to the bow of the ship, where she slipped into the crocodilian maw of the bowsprit and slid backwards through the small, hidden hatch.
She winced as she slid down a tilted beam and into the darkness of the ship's galley. She was now under the kitchen and could see the supplies she had organised still untouched in the dim light of the lantern.
And there on the floor were the five bodies from those poor men Jones had killed mere hours ago. They had been stripped of all personal effects and clothes, leaving their pale, pallid bodies bare to the elements like discarded trash.
It was a grim, morbid sight to behold.
Peggy's lip wobbled a little as she beheld the youngest of the five corpses.
Will was right. This lad really was only a boy, hardly coming up to his fellow victim's shoulders. He couldn't have been more than fifteen with a smooth chin that had yet to grow any facial hair, let alone shed his puppy fat.
She felt her heart clench as she looked them over and saw bruises on their skin and the slices at their throats.
While she knew she had to go after her sister, she couldn't just leave these poor men like this.
She looked around hurriedly and was quick to spot a large spare piece of sail, covering a few barrels.
She tore it off, not caring if she made noise and draped the material over the five bodies, making sure to use her fingers to close their eyes as she knelt down beside them.
The smell of cold death was rank in the air, but she forced herself to swallow it down as she reached out and touched the youngest on his head.
"I'm sorry." She whispered, shutting her eyes, a tear falling down her cheek, "I am sorry it had to end this way for you. You were innocent men doing a good deed, and you paid the price for the mistakes of others. I don't know how to give you the last rites according to the Church, but at least accept my blessing, as humble or as stupid as it may be. May the tides of Poseidon and the winds of Aeolus guide your souls safely to the shores of the dead. And may Hades and Persephone show you kindness and mercy so you may find the peace you seek."
She sighed, shivering as she felt something shift in the air. She was not quite sure what it was, but the tingle of old magic was unmistakable. Yet she did not feel afraid of it, for she could not sense something bad.
In fact, the more she looked at the dead men and boy, their faces seemed to change. Was it just her, or could she see peace on their slack faces?
Carefully, she pulled the canvas over their faces, smoothing it out gently over the tops of their heads in turn. It wasn't much of a funeral shroud, but it was a damned sight better than leaving them lying there alone and forgotten in the dark, like slabs of meat in an abattoir.
"Oi! Stay quiet ya brat!"
Peggy winced as the voice pierced the air through the floorboards above.
She looked up, sorrow squashing down as the sound of flesh being slapped and a young girl's cry of pain hit her ears.
"Let me go! Stop it!"
There was a grunting sound and an annoyed huff.
"Wha's goin' on?"
I see Silver is napping as usual.
Peggy snarled as she rose to her feet and looked around the galley. The effects of the five dead men had been laid out nearby on the ground, each item organised by type. There was a pile of clothes with a line of boots behind it. Swords and pistols lay in another pile. Coins, purses and personal items were all piled in a heap.
Peggy looked back at the covered bodies and bit her lip.
She knew it was horrible, but what choice did she have?
"Forgive me", she whispered as she reached towards the smallest pair of boots and one of the swords and equipped herself with both. She also took a small blue bandanna from amidst the pile and tied it around her forehead to keep her curls out of her face, though she failed to find a tie, so she could bind her hair in its usual braid.
But what did it matter? She mused bitterly as she tucked in a curl from her face. She was not going to have much time anyway.
When she finished, she looked down at her right wrist. Her entire hand was now covered in black lines, which were now creeping up her forearm towards her elbow. The skin between was pale and cold to the touch, but she could still move it as freely as her left arm.
The sight should have made her panic. It should have made her want to scrub it off frantically or shiver and shake with fear. But she didn't.
She had to save-
She wobbled on her feet, clutching at her chest as it throbbed painfully.
She had vaguely remembered feeling a few catches here and there ever since seeing Elizabeth fling herself into Will's waiting arms. Still, she had ignored the pain, her fear of Jones hurting Jack and the crew outweighing everything else. Even when she had been racing after Penrod, she had hardly paid it any mind. If anything, she had used it to power her way through the water.
Yet now she was here at rest even for a few seconds…it was as if all the stuffing had been knocked out of her.
Soon, she realised with a jolt. She'd be dying soon. She wasn't sure how she knew it, but she just did. She could feel the strength leeching slowly out of her, even now, as she stood there in the dark.
The pain of that last tear on the beach had been too much for even Tia Dalma's magic to prevent. Not even Peggy's pelt could bolster her soul. Her pelt…in the arms of the man who brazenly embraced another woman in front of her, knowing full well her predicament.
But no. Peggy shook herself and shoved down on her grief hard as she heard a young girl crying loudly up above.
No. That did not matter now. It couldn't matter now. Not when the life of her sister was at stake. Yes, Katrina was the daughter of the woman who had tried to kill her so long ago, but Katrina was an innocent. She was bright and warm and had an entire future waiting for her.
And yes, maybe Peggy would never live to see it, but that did not mean she would sit back and let that life be stolen from her sister the same way hers was so long ago.
Sucking in a deep breath, she took a determined step towards the ladder up to the kitchens, only to yelp as suddenly the floor slipped downward and backward.
"Shit!" she cursed as her back thudded into the wall of the bow and she saw the world tilt backwards.
What the? She winced as she felt something hard crash into the ship from outside. Small rivulets of water trickled in from holes and cracks in the wood around her, filling it swiftly and flooding it.
Yet the animals down here did not seem alarmed.
We're diving? Peggy sighed, forcing her body to relax as the ship tilted nearly ninety degrees so that she was all but lying back against the wall with gravity pushing her down, the change in pressure making her ears pop badly.
It had been a long time since she had been on this ship when it went underwater. It was an enchanted ship, so no living thing would be drowned or affected by the pressure so long as they remained below deck or tethered to the vessel, not even little Katrina.
One small mercy. Peggy bit her lip as the Dutchman began to level out, the entire galley now completely submerged.
Despite being underwater, Peggy did not feel herself shift into a different form. It was odd. She noted almost absentmindedly.
She was still very much humanoid, and yet her senses remained as sharp as they were in her seal form underwater. Even her eyes could see quite well in the dark waters.
She watched sadly as the bodies of the five men under the shroud floated in the water while something ghostly white slithered around them.
It was not a fish or any solid creature. It was almost like a smoky vesper that floated in the water, resembling white sea foam and vaguely shaped like a beautiful woman.
A nereid. A daughter of Nereus, and one of the more powerful children of the Ocean.
More Powerful than mermaids and more elusive than Krakens, for they were the daughters of a god.
Legends said they sometimes took pity on the souls of dead sailors and helped Hermes and other psychopomps find the souls of the dead so they could be taken to the afterlife.
Peggy had only seen a nereid once before, many years ago…on this very ship…tending the soul of the man she, Peggy, had condemned the night she had first tried to stand up to Jones…the night he had taken her freedom from her.
As Peggy watched the spirit wind her way around the five bodies, she wondered vaguely if it was the same nereid?
As if sensing her question, the strange spirit looked up, and Peggy sensed rather than saw the smile.
"It is I. I am surprised you remember me, little selkie,"
It did have eyes. Two pinpricks of white light, slightly brighter than the rest of the ghostlike form, seemed to fix sadly on the blackened, dying arm of the selkie.
"Is it my time?" Peggy asked, knowing the spirit would sense her thoughts.
"Not yet." The Nereid's voice was a gentle, melodious whisper, like the sea on a calm morning. "You are a child of the ocean. Your soul is not for the devil of the deep to take."
"That is not what he seems to think." Peggy snorted. So it was going to be the broken bond that killed her in the end, huh?
"That is not for him to decide." The Nereid said, and it seemed to Peggy that the spirit's voice was slightly harder than before as she examined the men's bodies more closely. Peggy felt the anger rise in the creature as its gaze fell over the men's slit throats. Then, suddenly, the waters stilled thoughtfully.
"You gave these men your blessing?" the Nereid asked, her melodious voice curious. "Were they known to you?"
"No. But what does that matter?" Peggy mumbled, gaze softening at the sight of the young dead boy's face, "They are innocent in this whole mess. They did not ask to die like this."
The nereid paused and floated in the water, seeming to ponder Peggy's words.
Then she moved.
Peggy tensed as the creature floated through the water towards her, the pale, phantom-like form illuminating the space around her like a ghostly candle.
Two vespers shaped like hands rose, one to Peggy's cheek to tilt her head down, while the other to the abalone shell necklace floating on her breast, which glowed faintly white for a moment under her touch. Peggy shut her eyes as she felt a pair of lips press against her forehead. It was so gentle, like the brush of a current against her skin, but it was as if a spark tingled over her skin even as she opened her eyes and gazed into the pale face of the spirit.
It was a woman, beautiful and translucent as if she were a reflection in a pane of glass. She was smiling, but her eyes were also sad as she stroked Peggy's cheek with a touch lighter than a feather.
"A gift." The spirit said softly in answer to Peggy's unasked question, "From one sea-sister to another. May your heart find the peace it seeks. Little selkie."
And then the light of her was gone as the seafoam dispersed into the water, plunging the galley into near darkness…all save the abalone necklace around Peggy's neck.
Peggy looked down at it, confused. While it no longer shone brightly, it still shimmered faintly, the small, dark veins within the shell's surface now glowing with a white-blue bioluminescence that gave it a slight halo, like a lantern.
She frowned.
What had the Nereid done? What was this magic?
Her heart. She shut her eyes. The bond was still shredded and throbbing, but it seemed to ease slightly under the influence of the shell, fortifying her like a plank of wood placed beneath a collapsing structure to hold it up. But it was only a temporary fix. One that would fade in time.
Time. She realised. The nereid had given her time.
Time to save Katrina…time to set things right… even if she could not save herself.
She felt strangely calm as she sucked in a deep breath to steel herself and looked up at the ceiling.
The Devil was somewhere above her.
The Devil that had terrorised her very existence for thirteen years.
He had beaten her, humiliated her, and stolen her life from her.
But no more.
"Will! Will! Will wake up!"
Will Turner winced as the pale grey light of day hit his eyes. On the back of his head, he could feel a slight throbbing and a small lump, but otherwise he seemed to be alright.
He was lying on his back, the cloudy sky above him, along with a blurred face.
"mmp-Peg?" he mumbled blearily.
Yet even as he blinked hard to dispel the double images, the face that came into focus above him was not the freckled face of Peggy Blake.
It was Elizabeth, her blonde hair a disarray around her shoulders and her expression worried.
"Elizabeth?" Will frowned "What's…what's going on…Where?"
"We're nearly back at the Pearl." She whispered, pulling back as Will sat up sharply, suddenly alert.
Indeed, they were sitting in the longboat along with several others. They were at the bow, with Pintel and Ragetti in the middle rowing as hard as they could with many a grunt and groan.
Jack was at the stern, clutching his precious jar of dirt like a child would hold a teddy bear after a nightmare, while young Jimmy sat in front of him with Sloane. The selkie was gently securing the boy's injured arm against his body in a sling
Will grimaced in sympathy at the sight of the bandages and splint on the youth's arm. He knew from his time in the forge that those sorts of injuries could be so painful and leave one so handicapped. He could not blame Jimmy for whimpering in pain even as he tried to flex his fingers on instinct.
Will looked around wildly as he searched for the other members of their troupe from the shore.
"What happened to the chest?" he asked wildly, as he noted the distinct lack of an iron chest or key in the vessel, too.
"Norrington took it to draw them off," Elizabeth said softly, eyes gazing back towards the island that was floating further and further away behind Jack's back. "Annamaria stayed behind to help him."
"And Peggy?" Will asked, his body shaking now with nerves. "Where is she? I didn't see her at the beach."
To his surprise, Elizabeth's mouth clammed shut and her eyes sharpened like swords.
"Jack?" Will frowned at Jack, who sighed tiredly.
"Gone." He shrugged. "Gone to save little Kitty."
"Kitty? Who? What?" Will looked back at Elizabeth. "Who's Kitty?"
"Ol' Pegsy's lil sister," Ragetti grunted as he hauled on an oar.
"Katrina?" Will's eyes widened "But how-she was supposed to be back in Port Royal? How did she end up out here?"
"Yeah, well, the kid said she was runnin' away from some arranged marriage. Captain took 'er on at Tortuga with Miss Swann 'ere" Pintel shrugged.
Will turned to Elizabeth again, incredulously, and she sighed.
"Lord Beckett was trying to marry her off to one of Lord Arlington's sons." She mumbled, and Will thought she saw a little guilt in her eyes. "We met while escaping Port Royal. She was trying to find…" Her voice trailed off as she folded her arms and looked away from Will.
"Peggy?" Will suggested, eyebrows raising coldly as he looked his fiancée up and down. It was one thing to be rude to Peggy due to stress, but this level of animosity was becoming annoying now.
Just what had soured Elizabeth's feelings for Peggy so much that she'd feel this bitter towards her sister, who was not even involved in their mess? How could she be that petty? WHY was she being so petty when Peggy had done nothing wrong to her? Peggy had been the one to leave Port Royal so she wouldn't be involved in their relationship any further and had only returned to ensure both him and Elizabeth were safe from her father. She had done her best to be respectful of Elizabeth's engagement despite her own broken heart. Why was Elizabeth so set on being so cruel to her? Was it the result of poisonous mutterings being whispered into her ear recently, or had something always been festering inside Elizabeth for years that was now only surfacing?
Whatever it was, Will would have to have words with his fiancée after all this was over. Whatever mess there was about Peggy's feelings for him, she did not deserve this sort of treatment. Whether he loved her or not, he would not tolerate any further hurt thrown in her direction...not even by Elizabeth. He had already humiliated and hurt her enough for one lifetime; she didn't deserve any more suffering.
But for now, he held his tongue as Elizabeth distractedly fumbled around in the pocket of her vest and handed him a piece of paper. No. He couldn't lose his temper now. Not when so much was barely hanging by a thread today...not when he still didn't know if Peggy was alive or not in Jones's keeping.
"H-here. Beckett asked me to give you this when I found you. I do not know why…" she trailed off, biting her lip nervously.
"Thanks," Will muttered stiffly as he took the proffered little envelope, which bore his name in neat cursive on the front, and pocketed it.
There would be time to read letters later. Right now, there were more important things to be worrying about than late postage.
He shook his head and turned back towards Jack, eyes narrowing.
"And you brought Katrina here?! Of all places?"
"It was either that or leave her in the company of scallywags and cutthroats who'd use her to get in Beckett's good books." Jack shrugged.
Will grimaced but did not argue about that. Jack was right. Katrina was not just Peggy's sister. She was Beckett's only heir. She was a bargaining chip worth her weight in gold to any pirate seeking to make their fortune through ransom. That only made the current situation even worse.
"If she's so valuable to you, then how the blazes did Jones get his hands on her?!" Will snarled, a new sort of terror welling up within him.
It was bad enough that Peggy of all people would have gone back to Jones, but now her sister was in the clutches of that fiend. Her sister. An innocent child. Jones had proven with Peggy that he was not above hurting young ones; he didn't want to imagine what he would do to Peggy's sister while both girls were in his keeping.
Will shivered as he remembered the face of the boy Jones had ordered to be killed that morning. The terror in Peggy's eyes and the way she flinched with every movement of the devil's hands, clawed or tentacled.
And now another poor innocent was in the horrific creature's clutches?
"'smy fault." A small voice mumbled. Everyone looked at Jimmy, whose lip quavered as he looked down at the toes of his boots. "I was supposed to be lookin' out for her. I should've-but I let meself get hit an'- an' then this bastard nabbed her from behind me and then he took her into the ocean and-and then Peggy she…she followed her in-"
"Shh. It's not your fault, Jimbo." Sloane wrapped a bracing arm around the boy. "It's not your fault. I saw you fighting back there. You did what you could. No one is blaming you."
"He's right." Jack nodded, and Will gulped as the pirate turned an icy glare on his face. "If ye want someone to blame, then look no further than dear William here."
"My fault?" Will's nostrils flared. The only thing stopping him from lunging forward was Elizabeth grabbing his shoulders and holding him back. "You're the one who stopped me from killing Jones and freeing Peggy and my father"
"Yeah, because if ye killed squid-face then and there he would never have lifted the black spot from me hand and I'd have to spend the rest of me life runnin' from that damned pet of his." Jack rolled his eyes.
"So you'd deny Peggy or my father the right to freedom to save your own skin?"
"No. I'd give myself the right to freedom first, and THEN I would have saved theirs." Jack locked Will's gaze in his, and Will almost shivered at the deadly cold in them as he hissed, "What? You thought you were the only one who cares a rat's arse about that girl? Tch! And Pegsy says I've got an ego", he scoffed under his breath.
Will stared at the pirate, astonishment drowning out any anger he might have felt at the jab to his pride. And it wasn't just Will who was surprised. All in the boat were looking at Jack in astonishment.
Jack had called Peggy "his girl" before, but that was in private and always to people like Will or Gibbs who knew him better. Never did Will dream that Jack would admit to caring about Peggy out in public like this. He, Jack Sparrow, who played the uncaring double-crossing backstabber and prided himself on being a lone wolf...admitting he actually cared for another being outside himself.
Something loud splashed behind Will's back, and he turned sharply to face it.
His first wild thought was that the Kraken had resurfaced to take them into its gaping maw. But what met his gaze was probably even worse.
"What the-?" Elizabeth breathed in awe.
Sloane stiffened, his arm wrapping protectively around a frozen Jimmy as Pintel and Ragetti both started whimpering and cringing in fear.
"Oi! Keep paddling," Jack shouted at the two men, the only sign of his panic in his brown eyes and the tightening of his grip on his jar of dirt.
"It's time we finished this mess."
Captain Davy Jones smirked as he watched the crew of the Black Pearl run hither and thither across their deck.
They had been completely blindsided by the arrival of the Flying Dutchman piercing upwards through the surface of the water. Men were shouting as they tripped over their own feet, and faces were alight with fear as their owners fumbled cannonballs and weapons.
But there was no sign of Jack Sparrow or that whelp.
Not yet, anyway.
Davy Jones sighed as his tentacle-fingered hand curled around the hilt of his sword.
The Dutchman's crew had returned to the ship only a few moments ago, reporting that they had found the chest in the arms of one of Sparrow's ragtag crewmen who had promptly dumped it upon sight of them for fear of being captured.
Tch! Coward. But what did you expect of men employed by a snivelling weasel like Jack Sparrow?
And so the men had let the swine go. After all. Their orders were to take the chest, and they were not about to chase after a lily-livered little gnat not worth a grain of sand.
Speaking of cowards…
Davy Jones turned his head and squinted back to the waters that lay between the island of Isla Cruces and the Pearl.
There, on the water bobbing closer towards them, was a soot black longboat.
He smirked.
Ah. So Jack Sparrow would be here soon. Good. That meant he could have some fun before getting down to business.
"Mister Penrod!" He barked loudly across the deck. "Bring up our little guest."
The sound of his order echoing over the deck was enough to make even the crew of the Black Pearl look up and pay attention.
"Aww, Hell. What's he up to now?"
Jones grinned at the stricken faces of two of the men at the helm. One of them, a bearded older man with mutton chops, was barking orders to the rest of the men in a frantic hurry.
He must be the quartermaster. Davy Jones noted. Good.
Good. Let him see all the Devil could unleash. Then Jack would see just how 'loyal' his men truly were.
"Good god." The bearded man's face paled with horror as someone was brought struggling onto the deck in Penrod's arms.
Jones turned to see the hunched form of his crewman slink from the shadows onto the deck of the Dutchman, arms wrapped tight around the squirming victim in his grip.
"Let me go! Unhand me! Unhand me right now!"
"Shut up ye brat, an' quit it!" Penrod shouted, roughly shoving his new captive to her knees on the deck as Davy Jones stalked down from the upper deck of the ship towards them, "Sir. I got one of the kids, as you asked. The selkie should be here soon."
"So I see." Jones stared down at the child on the wooden boards at his feet. It was a girl, a young adolescent, hardly out of childhood. She was as pretty as a picture, and the oversized men's clothes she wore hardly seemed fitting for her delicate frame. No, she looked like a child more at home in pretty dresses and fine silk. Her peaches and cream complexion had turned chalky pale and nearly blue from the ice-cold swim to the Dutchman, and what would have been a head of thick dark brown curls lay damp and stringy around her terrified face.
That face.
The Devil's lips curled in a vicious sneer. It lacked freckles and was a little rounder with puppy fat, but he could see the resemblance from a mile off, especially in those grey-blue eyes which widened as he stared her down from high above.
Somewhere in the distance, he was vaguely aware of the Black Pearl's quartermaster telling his crew to halt any attack they had planned, terror lacing the man's voice as other men on his ship seemed to recognise the girl.
So they did know who she was.
They knew and they cared.
How pathetic.
"What's yer name, lass?"
But the girl did not answer. She just shivered and quaked in absolute terror as she took in his appearance. Jones scoffed. He knew his squid-like face was disconcerting to those who had never witnessed his full might before. Still, it was irritating to deal with when he wanted answers.
"Girl! What's your name?"
"M…My name…" the girl gulped, and Jones was impressed when she gingerly stood to her feet, her body naturally settling into a prim and proper posture despite the way she trembled with fear. She was of high birth, that much was clear. Or had been raised wealthy if those dainty hands had anything to say about her.
"Oi! The captain asked ye a question!" Penrod slapped the girl hard around the back of the head, causing her to flinch and cry out. The force of the blow was enough to make her delicate knees buckle, but she was forced to stay upright as Penrod's hand shot out and grabbed her by the roots of her hair.
She yelped in pain, tears streaming down her cheeks as whatever courage she had earlier seemed to drain out of her.
"Yer name girl?"
The girl opened her mouth to speak, only to shut it tight like a clam and shake her head.
Davy Jones's eyes narrowed dangerously.
He had no time nor the patience for this foolishness.
Katwthack!
The girl sobbed in pain as the Devil's claw hand swiped across her cheek. He did not use the full force of his blow. The last thing he wanted was her porcelain jaw to be broken. But already a magnificent bruise bloomed and darkened on the pale skin before he had even raised his claw hand to wipe the small spot of blood from her split lip on his coat.
"You know who I am, girl?"
"Y-You're Davy Jones?" It was more a question than a definite, but Jones accepted it nonetheless. To the child, he supposed he was the equivalent of the bogey man beneath her bed.
"Correct-tah!" he all but spat the last syllable in her face, tentacles flaring in such a way that had her cringing away from him in horror "And do you know what ship yer on?"
"Th-th-the Fly-Flying-"
"Stop stuttering!" He snarled, and the poor girl gulped.
"The Flying D-Dutchman."
"Correct again." Jones sneered. "And whose ship is it?"
"Yours, sir."
"Aye…MINE." His eyes flashed, and his tentacles flared once more as he loomed over her. "My ship. Which makes me Captain. And as the Captain, my rule is the law; one and all on my ship must obey. When I tell ye to jump, ye jump. When I ask ye a question, ye answer truthfully, or I skewer ye and leave ye to drag along the sea bottom for a few decades. Do I make myself clear?"
"As crystal." The girl nodded meekly, not meeting his eye for sheer terror.
"Good. An' so I ask ye again, lass…What. Is. Yer. Name?" He repeated, enunciating every syllable with deadly precision.
"My…my-"
"Speak louder!"
"My name is Kitty!" the girl bleated, and Jones growled under his breath. A false name. How predictable.
"An' yer family?" He hissed, though he already knew the answer. Her eyes gave the entire game away. Everyone could see it; he could see it. There was no need for her to say it aloud…save the pleasure of everyone knowing for sure who he was about to hurt.
"My family?" The girl frowned in confusion, only to flinch as he slowly raised the claw hand in a very casual but menacing gesture. "My…my family name is…it's-"
"I'm waiting, girl-"
"It's Beckett!" She squeaked. "Kitty Beckett."
"Beckett?" Jones quirked a brow. "Now now, lass. Do ye take me for a fool? I know that ain't yer real name."
"B-but it is!" The girl bleated. "M-My name is Katrina Beckett, daughter of…daughter of Cutler Beckett-GAH-Ack!" She spluttered as the claw-like hand came up and clamped around her throat like a vice.
"Don't. Lie." He snarled. "I can see yer clear as day, lass. Yer may not have the hair or the freckles, but yer the spittin' image of that selkie rat. So tell me again and don't lie. Who are ye lass?"
"Katrina Beckett, " the girl managed to rasp, her face starting to turn so pale it was nearing blue. "Kitty Beck…Beck…"
"Yer testin' my patience, lass!"
"P-please-please!"
"JONES!" a woman roared, her voice echoing over the churning seas as a shadow fell across the deck and over him from behind. "LET HER GO!"
Hook, line and sinker.
Davy Jones sneered with victory as he turned around, his pale blue-green eyes meeting a pair of silvery eyes with vertical slits for pupils.
"Peggy Blake." He spat viciously, lips curled "How nice of you to join us."
Katrina stared up at the railing of the Flying Dutchman, jaw hanging open.
There she was, Peggy Blake hanging off a shroud with her feet on the rotted wood railing. She wore a wet white shirt and brown breeches, with a blue sash tied around her waist. On her neck, a silver abalone shell necklace gleamed under the cold light of day, matching the silvery gleam of her glaring eyes. Copper red curls billowed in the blustering wind while a blue bandanna held them away from her snarling face.
Yes snarling. No longer was she the shivering, quaking mess that he had tossed overboard merely a few hours ago.
No. Here was a beastly daughter of the sea, hackles raised and ready to strike fear into the hearts of all who beheld her wrath.
Even some of his most loyal and experienced men were backing away from her with anxious glances towards their captain for orders as she hopped down from the railing and stalked towards him, drawing the sword from her hip.
"Let her go, Jones." Peggy Blake glowered at the Devil of the Deep. "She is not a part of this."
"She's yer blood. That makes her a part of this." Davy Jones spat at the selkie. "Aye, there be no denying it, lass. I see your eyes in her face, clear as I see the ocean around me."
"Then you'll know what happens to those who dare raise a hand to my blood?" Peggy's lip curled, ignoring the jeers and excited hollers for blood and support that came from the Crew of the Black Pearl. She could hear Paulie the Parrot's squawking from where he sat perched on Mister Cotton's shoulder as the old mute stood at the helm wheel.
"Skwaaa! Cleave 'im to the brisket! SKWAAA!"
"Cotton's right! Show 'im no quarter!" Marty yelled.
"Ye think yer so brave lass." Jones scoffed as he looked the selkie up and down, sizing her up. "You really think that just because these petty little men are shoutin' for ye that ye have any chance ter stop me. But we both know what ye truly are. One thrashing from me and you'll be shiverin' and shakin' in yer boots like ye always do. And as fer this one!" he dropped Katrina from his grip, and she fell to the deck hard with a loud gasp and a heavy thump "She be screaming with ye."
Peggy's teeth gritted, the barest hint of fang peeking out from her lip as she turned her attention to the ground where Katrina was struggling to her hands and knees, coughing and spluttering and clutching at her throat.
"You're right." Peggy looked back at Jones, meeting his gaze steadily "I am afraid of you. You've terrorised me, humiliated me. Haunted my nightmares and made me so scared of every shadow whenever I was alone. Held me back from pursuing happiness with the people I loved because I was so terrified you might hurt them. But that stops here. It stops NOW!"
"Does it?" Jones sneered. "And pray, how do you hope to achieve this miracle?"
He paused as Peggy took a bold step forward, the tip of her sword pointed at his face.
"Ye can't kill me, lass." The devil scoffed. "I cannae die from one measly little needle prick."
"I never said we would fight to the death." Peggy growled, then raised her voice for all to hear, "Fight to first blood. No outside interference, not from your crew or mine. If they so much as put one toe into our fight, then it's a loss. If you win, you get to keep me and do as you will with my soul. If I win, you let us go, and you never touch us again. You will leave us and never hurt us, you will vanish and never see us again."
"No." Davy Jones glared at her. "Yer waistin' yer precious time lass. I've been on this green earth many a man's lifetime. I've killed many a man and crushed their bones beneath my boots to sand, and I can do the same to you. Give up now and spare yourself and this rat the trouble."
He turned his back to reach out once more for Katrina's neck.
"COWARD!"
The jeers and cheers from the Black Pearl all fell silent, and the crew of the Flying Dutchman all held their breath as their captain turned slowly.
His expression was thunderous as he met the sneering selkie woman's eye.
"What-" he spat, his voice an icy, deadly hiss, "-did you say?"
"Coward." Peggy's lip curled with vindictive pleasure at his shock. "I can't believe it took me so long to see it. All this time, I was so scared of you. As if you were some vengeful old monster who had all the power in the world. But you're not. You're just a pathetic, empty, sad old man who was so scared of his own heart that he shoved it down into the sand, and would rather torment other people because he's too afraid to face the pain he caused and the sins he has committed out of wounded pride."
"You dare-!" Jones stalked towards her, tentacled hand flying to the hilt of his sword.
"Oh yes, I dare." Peggy snarled back, stepping towards him and entering his range. "I dare, because a man who has to beat up little girls to show he is powerful, is not a man worthy of my fear, let alone my soul-"
"Look out, lass!"
Peggy stumbled back as the weight of Jones's strike hit her blade like a hammer, the grinding of sharp metal on metal screeching in her ear as she pushed him back and they unlocked.
"Fight to first blood." Davy Jones hissed. "No outside help. Freedom for you two rats if you win and your souls as I was promised if you lose."
"Deal!" Peggy snarled and lunged forward, hardly even noticing the call that came from the waters below.
"OI! Mister Gibbs! Hoist us up"
"Oi, is it just me, or is it really quiet?"
"Yeah yer right." Pintel and Ragetti's whispers echoed across the water.
Jack's brow furrowed in confusion as his longboat pulled up on the leeward side of his ship, hidden from view of the Dutchman. The bilge rat was right. It was quiet. The two enemy ships were side by side, yet no shots were being fired nor any insults being hurled across the gap between.
He could vaguely make out some movement on the deck above, but it was very cautious.
"What's going on? Why is no one fighting?" Jimmy hissed.
"I don't know. But I don't like it." Sloane muttered, turning to Will, who nodded grimly.
"Neither do I. Something's up."
"Could they be trying to parlay?" Elizabeth looked at Jack, gulping down hard on the lump in her throat.
"Not bloody likely," Jack grunted, lip curling as he called up to the ship. "OI! Mister Gibbs! Hoist us up!"
There was the scurrying of footsteps, and Gibbs's pale face suddenly appeared over the railing of the Pearl. When he saw Jack and the rest of the shore party, his face split into a grin of relief.
"It's the captain! Oi! You lot! Get over 'ere and make fast the lines!"
"Make fast the lines", someone called, and at once several crewmen dashed forward and brought out the lines needed to tether the longboat to the Pearl. One of the men even had the forethought to lower a rope ladder down the side, which Elizabeth was quick to clamber up first, much to Jimmy's annoyance as he struggled to stand upright.
"I'll go up first," Sloane grunted. "Turner, help Jimmy up from below. I'll pull him up from the top."
"Got it", Will nodded briskly as he knelt and wrapped his arms around the boy's legs and hoisted him as high as he could go up the side of the Black Pearl's hull.
Despite only having one usable hand, Jimmy was quick to scramble up into Sloane's grip, letting the selkie and a couple of other men aboard the deck haul him to safety.
When it was Will's turn, he gladly took Sloane's aid, his body still shaking and aching from the earlier fight and knock to the head. God, when was the last time he rested properly? It felt like years had passed since the morning.
Jack was the last up the side, leaving Pintel and Ragetti behind to be hoisted up to the ship in the longboat as they finished securing it below.
"Where's the Commodore? Where's Anna?"
"They fell behind," Jack grunted, clutching his jar of dirt tight to his chest as he all but fell into the wooden boards of the deck.
"My prayers be with them." Gibbs sighed sadly, quickly forcing a smile to his face, though the panic in his eyes was clear as the daylight around them. "Best not wallow in our grief. The bright side is you're back. Now we can get outta this mess free and clear-"
"Yes, speaking of free and clear, Mister Gibbs, if you would be so kind as to explain why we are in fact NOT firing on an enemy ship that has plonked itself right beside me lovely Pearl and why we-wait…whassat noise?" Jack perked his ears.
Was it just him, or could he hear the clanging of-
"What the?" The pirate shot to his feet and dashed to the port side.
"Ahh, yes… that's why we're not firin', sir." Gibbs tittered, gulping down hard on the lump in his throat as Jack stared across the divide between ships and onto the enemy's deck.
"Well, I'll be." The pirate lord breathed, the corners of his mouth twitching as Will ran up to watch alongside him and gasped.
There was Davy Jones, sword drawn and violently slashing and stabbing towards Peggy, who also had a sword in her hand. But she didn't look a fig like the terrified, scared little girl Will had seen cringing and cowering a few nights ago.
No. This Peggy was vicious and snarling, not just defending against an aggressor, but attacking and countering with such savage strikes that even some of the onlookers winced and pulled back from her in fear of being hit, even though they were at a safe enough distance away.
Her eyes were flashing silver, and her hair streamed around her shoulders like a mane of fire as she blocked a swipe of her opponent's blade and countered with a swift parry and thrust that forced the Devil to jolt back sharply out of range.
The undead captain was much heavier than Peggy and more powerful because of his cursed form, but she was faster, and there was a ferocity to her movements that was so wild it was almost unhinged.
Will had never seen anything like it before. Not even when they had fought Barbossa had Peggy ever let herself lose such composure as this.
"Cheeky brat," Jack smirked. "I knew she was holdin' out on me."
"You think this is funny?" Will glared sidelong at Jack. "We've got to do something to help. He will kill her," he balked forward, but Gibbs grabbed his arm.
"No lad! You go over there now, her life is forfeit, as is Kitty's. It's a fight to the first blood. No interference, no help from outside. Just Jones and Pegsy. No more, no less."
Will stared aghast at the fight, eyes scanning the crew of the cursed ship until he found a small figure huddled and peeking out over the railing towards them. Instantly, he recognised the head of brown curls and pale, delicate face.
"But we can't just sit here." He hissed to the men. "At least for Katrina. Get her off that ship so Jones can't use her to hurt Peggy."
"If you have any ideas, mate, then fire away." Jack drawled, almost amused by the younger man's desperation. "Because the way I see it, the only way that kid is going to get out of this is if Pegsy wins or if she saves herself."
Will opened his mouth, but shut it when he could not find the words to say. What could he say?
Jack was right. Infuriatingly right, AGAIN.
There was no chance of sneaking aboard the Dutchman and saving Kitty without Jones twisting it into some attempt to sabotage the duel. They could not call to Kitty to jump across or signal to Peggy to grab her and leave.
The two girls were well and truly alone on that ship, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
Yet that didn't stop him from trying to lunge forward when Peggy found herself bent back over the rail of the Dutchman with Jones bearing down on her, her blade doing its best to keep his from touching her throat.
"Ye really thought you could win this?" Jones sneered into Peggy's ear as his blade inched closer and closer to her skin. "You thought you and your precious lad could waltz onto my ship, steal from me and walk out of this with nary a scratch?!"
"No." Peggy hissed, pushing back with all her might. "I knew I'd never get out of this alive."
"And yet ye still tried." Jones sniggered. "I'd be impressed if I didn't want to kill ye."
"Then kill me!" Peggy growled.
"OH, I plan to." Jones chuckled wickedly. "But before that, I'll watch you squirm as I kill that sweet little girlie of yours. Or maybe I'll give her to my men to enjoy first. They haven't had such a fresh female in-"
"GHNNAHAHHHRGH!" Peggy roared, pure unfiltered rage flooding her as she shoved up at the Devil.
The push was so hard that Jones stumbled back into his men, his pincer leg buckling beneath him, causing him to topple on top of them. But to his and everyone's surprise, Peggy did not take the opening.
Instead, she darted over to Katrina's cringing form and hauled her to her feet before any of the men could even blink.
"Can you swim?" She asked, and before Katrina could even finish one tiny fretful nod, the elder Beckett daughter was already hoisting the girl up and tipping her over the edge, much to the shock and horror of everyone on both ships.
"Kitty!" Jimmy cried out, his voice mingling with the loud splash and scream below.
"MAN OVERBOARD!" Gibbs shouted as Katrina surfaced with a loud gasp and a wretching cough.
"Throw her a line," Will shouted, but already Sloane had grabbed a line from one of the men and leapt overboard. He was quick to reach the struggling, splashing girl, hauling her up and doing her best to keep her face above the water as he dragged her back towards the Pearl.
"No! No! My sister is still up there!" Katrina shrieked, eyes wide as she tried to struggle back to the Dutchman. "No! Peggy!" but Sloane was too strong for her, and in no time, she was being hauled aboard the Pearl, Elizabeth quickly grabbing at her and holding onto the poor girl to stop her from darting back overboard.
"Kitty no! Kitty stop! If you go back there-Kitty!"
"You miserable wretch!" Jones's snarl echoed across all the hubbub. "You lying rat! You'd risk losing your soul for that little scrap-"
"This fight ISN'T over, Jones! I haven't lost. I didn't break the rules." Peggy shouted back, catching the blow of his sword and countering swiftly to maintain distance. "We agreed our crews couldn't help us. You never said we couldn't help them. Also, I said you could have my soul. I never said you could have MY SISTER'S!"
"Your sister?" Jones's lip curled. "Sister?! HA-hahahahahaha!" His mirthless, cruel chuckle was so cold that it almost made half the crew of the Pearl shiver and shrink where they stood. "Oh, that explains it all. A little sister. I thought ye said ye were an orphan?"
"Sister, orphan. It doesn't matter," Peggy spat, voice trembling and eyes watering as her rage bubbled further to the surface. "I would rather die a thousand bloody deaths if it means you will never touch a hair on her head or any other child's head."
She aimed a thrusting stab with such force that Jones hardly had time to block it until the last moment. He didn't even have time to counter as she aimed another vicious swipe and another, each one more unruly and wide than the last.
Too wide. Too much of an opening. Too sloppy.
"Oh no." Will gaped in horror as he watched Peggy slowly push Jones into a corner.
"What's wrong, she's winning, ain't she?" Marty called, but even Jack was looking uncomfortable as he cottoned onto Will's thoughts.
"No, she's not," the Pirate whispered. "Damn that girl's temper-"
Yet even as the last word left the pirate's mouth, all signs of celebration of the Pearl died as Peggy found herself suddenly spun around by the momentum of Davy Jones's block, her back hitting the foremast hard.
Peggy grunted in pain at the impact, but was able to duck quickly to avoid the slash to her throat, only to shriek in pain as a pincer claw hand grabbed hard at her hair.
Jones tried to bring his sword again to Peggy's throat, only to have it kicked out of his hand hard by her flailing free hand, her own sword falling to the ground in a clatter as the tip of it accidentally got stuck in a crack of the wooden deck.
"PEGGY!"
"No Will!"
There was a scuffle on both decks as Gibbs restrained Will with Elizabeth's help and Peggy struggled against Jones, her feet wildly kicking their swords far across the deck out of reach.
Yet despite the handicap, Jones still managed to grapple her against him, her back plastered against his front while his humanoid hand curled around her throat and squeezed, the tentacled finger lazily wrapped around her mouth.
Will's eyes bulged as Peggy wriggled frantically against her captor, one wrist pinned painfully but carefully behind her back with the pincer claw.
"Well, well, well, look who decided to show up?!" Jones sneered, sparing a contemptuous glance at Will's frightened face. "Uh-uh-uh! One step, lad, and I snap her pretty neck."
Will stillled instantly where he stood, his entire body shaking from the effort as the selkie pelt beneath his shirt burned and tingled in warning.
"I warned you, lad." Jones's eyes bore into the blacksmiths with undisguised venom "I warned you of what I would do to her if ye dared meddle. Did you think I would not keep my word? Did you think I wouldn't hurt your-"
"OI FISHFACE!"
The shout was so loud and so jovial that it seemed to snap the band of tense anger that filled the air like a rubber band. Even Peggy's claws shrank back a little in her surprise.
Everyone turned to the stern of the Pearl, where Jack was grinning and holding up his jar of dirt as he sauntered up into view. Will frowned. How in the blazes did Jack get up there? Hadn't he been by Will's side a few moments ago? How could the usually stumbling loud man move so silently?
"Lose somethin'? Ey? Whoaah!"
What the hell is he doing now?! Will winced as Jack Sparrow very ungracefully fell down the stairs to the helm. Down and down he rolled, missing a couple of steps at a time and landing sprawled on the deck like a dead starfish.
It was such a clumsy, awkward display that even Katrina stopped in her frantic struggle to stare agape at the man, glancing at Elizabeth for some understanding of the situation.
But Elizabeth was just as confused as everyone else.
The last she had seen, Jack was still quite wary of Davy Jones and desperately wanted to get back to safety. So what the hell had brought on this childish display?
Just what was he up to?
"GOT IT!" Jack shouted, raising his arms high above his head to show off the dirt jar unscathed and unscratched.
"Come to negotiate, eh, you slimy git!" The pirate grinned with wicked pleasure as he popped back up to his feet, barely phased at all by his own clumsiness as he began to sing:
"Look what I got! I got a jar of di~rt! I got a jar of di~rt! And guess what's inside it!"
He held the jar aloft over his head and shook it once or twice. To all this would have seemed the most random, most confusing act of the bizarre pirate they had ever seen.
Yet when he met Peggy's eyes across the divide, she could see the familiar gleam in them as he grinned widely at her and licked his teeth.
Bastard. Why didn't I think of that? She sucked in a deep breath as Jack made to wiggle the jar of dirt yet again in Jones's direction.
"Enough!"
The devil snarled in wrath at the taunting display and turned his head back to his crew, not noticing the loosening of his tentacle around Peggy's mouth…
…or the gleam of two pearly white fangs extending as she opened her mouth and chomped down HARD...
There was a scream.
Blood, fresh first blood, filled her mouth...
And then the Devil let her go.
Notes:
DUN-DUN-DUUUUUN! Yes, I know, awful place to do a cliffy. But as I was writing, this seemed the best. I'm already partway through the next chapter, so hopefully that will be done soon.
Has Peggy won? Will Davy Jones let her go easily? We all know pirates (Especially undead ones) are sore losers and not the type to let these things slide. Will William finally get his head out of his arse and see how badly he's been fumbling? (who knows?) I'm just glad Peggy's actually back in action doing something, even if it is on borrowed time (though I won't lie, I do feel a little guilty about her yeeting her own sister overboard; ah, well, it was for a good cause XD).
I got the idea of the Nereid being made of something like seafoam from the Sea-Nymph Galatea from Greek Mythology (Said to be the nereid of calm seas), who was commonly associated with seafoam because her name means 'milky white', like the colour of seafoam. Whether this was Galatea that came to Peggy, who knows, but most Nereids in mythology often act as benevolent protectors of humans at sea. Whether they would help psychopomps and souls lost at sea, I don't know, but it seemed fitting given the situation. What did she do to Peggy? what did she do to her necklace? You'll just have to wait and see ;)
Norrington's journey, of course, will be altered somewhat now that Annamaria is involved in his story, and you may have noticed I made some adjustments to the Dutchman/Pearl encounter (although given how Peggy and Kitty altered the plot, that was to be expected).
And yes, Peggy was able to go toe to toe with Jones for a little bit, but her anger got in the way, so it didn't go quite as well as it could have. In my personal experience doing martial arts, anger can give you a boost in a fight, but it's only temporary. Yes, you're more powerful, but you're also sloppy and don't think straight. Unless you're able to surprise your opponent and take them out quickly, you're probably going to get your rear handed to you eventually.
Anyways, that's enough prattling from me today.
I hope you guys enjoyed. Please keep reading, favouriting, following, and reviewing for more. I hope to get another chapter out soon.
Thanks
FuzzyBeta
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writhing on Chapter 12 Thu 03 Oct 2024 10:54PM UTC
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writhing on Chapter 21 Sat 21 Dec 2024 07:07PM UTC
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