#potc5 fanfic

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Henry Turner and Carina Smyth Yale AU: Chapter 1

Hi everyone! This is chapter 1 of @elizabeth-svvann’s Yale AU . It will be cross posted to AO3 once I can make an account there. For now it will be available under the “Keep Reading” link. Hope you enjoy!

Word count: 6170

Summary: Carina had always been one of the smartest people in the room her entire life. She graduated high school at 15 and is currently studying at Yale University to earn a Ph.D. in Astrophysics. Over the past year, the physics department has been hit hard with budget cuts, and the latest one was the nonrenewal of Carinas favourite professor, Dr Jack Sparrow’s contract. Enraged by this, Carina attends an annual Yale fundraiser to confront the Dean of the University, Weatherby Swann.

At the event, the first person she meets is Henry Turner, a classics student getting his master’s in said field. Henry is instantaneously smitten with her, while Carina is uninterested in him - her only purpose there is to talk to Dean Swann. All night she is unsuccessful in getting a moment alone with him. As she waits for her drink at the bar, she overhears two women gossiping about the Dean, mentioning all the favours and grants given to his son in law, Professor William Turner, over the years. The conversation then shifts to Swann’s grandson: Henry Turner. Immediately Carina formulates a plan to use Henry to get to his grandfather, in hopes that history repeats itself and Dean Swann’s nepotism will carry down to her as his grandson’s new girlfriend.

The guilt of using Henry soon starts to grow as she falls for the classics nerd with his terrible Latin jokes and constant babbling about Greek and Roman mythology.

To say she felt out of place would be an understatement. The looks the people were giving her made Carina feel like she was the world’s only dragon. She ran her hands nervously over her dress, smoothing the nonexistent wrinkles, and told herself for the seventh time that she was not underdressed. Out of place, maybe, but never underdressed.

It took Carina a deep breath and a quick gulp of her water--surprisingly chilled--to remind herself why she was there. Without fulfilling her mission there was, of course, no purpose to be there. No reason to be dealing with the skeptical glances and glares of these posh muckety-mucks...In a sudden and odd change of circumstance, Carina felt eyes on her that were, for once, not scathing. A tall boy--tall-ish, Carina decided on second glance--with soft eyes watched her, as if willing her to notice him. Once she did, though, he dropped his eyes and began to study the guest list with an intensity Carina had thought him incapable of. She hid a smile. Ah, the price of shame.

Carina returned to her task. She scanned the guests, waiting to be awarded with the view of loose gray hair. No such luck. Carina caught herself pouting and drew herself up; she would not be defeated quite so easily. She was brushed by someone’s coat, but found that the presence did not leave as soon as it had arrived. Instead, it lingered, and with a sigh, Carina turned to fake her first conversation of the night.

To her surprise, she was not met with the sight of someone demanding to see her ID. It was the boy from before, and he fidgeted slightly before smiling sheepishly.

“Who are you? If you don't mind me asking, that is,” he asked before promptly turning pink upon realizing the directness of his initial question. Carina bit her tongue in disappointment. So she was being IDed, just not in the form of a black-outfitted security guard and rather a golden retriever-esque boy.

When she didn't answer, he tried again.

“I'm sorry to be too forward, it's just...I've never seen you before, and I couldn't find you on the guest list…” He trailed off and just stood there, shifting slightly.

“Come here often, do you?” Carina asked. The boy looked up, evidently startled at receiving a response. “You must be important.”

The boy grinned and looked down.

“Not really,” he said. “So what was your name?”

He was a persistent security guard, if that was his role.

“Carina. Carina Smyth. I'm not on the guest list, so don't bother checking,” Carina offered dryly. The boy’s eyes widened. There it was, Carina figured. She was going to be kicked out.

“Well, if anyone asks, you’re with me. Henry Turner,” Henry said, extending a hand. Carina raised her eyebrows, surprised at the boy's offer and slightly impressed, although she'd never admit it. She returned the gesture. The smile returned to Henry’s face. Carina was certain she'd never seen anyone quite so easily amused.

Certain he wasn't an intellectual, she turned away. No one that happy could harbor any real intelligence, anyhow.

“Wait,” Henry called. “Where are you going?”

“I'm looking for someone,” Carina replied, turning away once again.

“Oh,” said Henry. “Well, I hope you find them.”

Carina waved her thanks behind her and squeezed her way into the crowd. She figured she’d lost five, maybe eight minutes. She was determined not to be distracted again, but grateful to have someone’s name to give, even if it was that of a rich baby.

Carina tried, and failed, several times that night to find and speak with Dean Swann. She wasn’t just going to let Jack’s employment drop. Not without a fight, at least. Unfortunately, fate seemed to have other plans for her that night; there was no sign of the Dean. Upon nearing the end of the night, Carina was forced to accept that her mission had failed. She wouldn’t be talking to or even seeing the Dean. And there was no saying when Jack’s position would be revoked.

Carina sighed and dropped into a stool at the bar.

“Shirley Temple, please,” she muttered to the bartender that came to take her order. He nodded and disappeared. Carina prayed that he wouldn’t be too long before returning with the sugary goodness. She could certainly stand to eat her feelings at the moment. She leaned on her hand idly and let her mind wander.

“Did you hear that the Dean gave another grant to his favorite professor?”

Carina queued in on the Dean’s name. Three women were huddled at the end of the bar, stage whispering over drinks.

“Shut up. He did not.”

“Yes, he did,” the first promised.

“Which one?” The third lady spoke for the first time. She was considerably younger and had a more optimistic look to her than her counterparts.

“His son-in-law.”

“Oh.”

“God, if I could get that money, I don’t even know what I’d do…”

“Nepotism at its finest, if you ask me.”

“At Yale? Are you sure? I mean, Professor T--”

The other two women shushed the younger one quickly, nervously glancing around the room to see if anyone had heard. It appeared they were safe. They leaned in closer and spoke in hushed tones.

“That professor is great, though. I had him when I went here. As far as I remember, he was doing some pretty great work.”

“Sure thing, sweetie.”

“It was some of the most advanced that I’ve seen here!” the younger girl insisted. “Professor Turner is ahead of his time, I promise you that.”

Carina practically jumped out of her seat at the mention of a Turner....particularly one related to the Dean. Henry’s father, perhaps? Carina had sworn to stay invisible and talk to only those she needed to, but this lead was far too great to resist.

“Did you say Turner?” The women looked to Carina in shock and horror that they’d been overheard. Only the youngest looked calm. Then again, she hadn’t exactly been trashing the Dean’s son-in-law. Carina scooted closer.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she began, definitely not sorry. “Does this Professor Turner have a son? One named Henry, by any chance?”

The two catty coworkers exchanged glances without answering, but the younger woman nodded.

“Henry Turner is his son. He’s a real nice boy. Smart, too. He’s majoring in classics here.”

“Henry Turner goes to Yale?” Carina did a double take. The woman nodded again. “And he’s the Dean’s grandson?”

“Yep.”

“Doesn’t that smell a bit like...the old boy’s network to you?”

The woman laughed.

“No, no. Henry’s quite clever. He went to school with my younger brother and got accepted just about everywhere.”

Carina nodded thoughtfully, whispered a thanks and received a nod, and turned to the bartender who had arrived with a Shirley Temple in hand. By the time she had turned back around, the women were gone. Carina thanked the stars; she wasn’t in the mood to continue small talk, especially not while forming a plan.

Someone sat down so abruptly next to Carina that she jumped slightly in her seat. It was Henry.

“Carina! Hello again,” he said with a smile. He looked at the drink in her hand. “How old are you?”

“Seventeen,” Carina sipped her drink. “I’m in my sophomore year.”

Henry nodded. “How old were you when you graduated high school, then?”

Carina started to roll her eyes, but withheld the urge. If her plan was going to work, she couldn’t afford to make Henry feel like dirt on her heel.

“Fifteen.” Henry whistled. “I was homeschooled and just went through the grades super quickly, so here I am.”

“What are you here for?”

“What is this, Twenty Questions?” Henry grinned and looked down to hide the blush that was spreading across his cheeks. Carina spoke again, this time willing her voice to at least sound nicer. “I’m working to get my Ph.D. in Astrophysics.”

“The stars?” Henry asked, so unsure that Carina could do nothing but roll her eyes and shake her head whilst smiling.

“Something like that. And now, you. You don’t look too old, either.”

“I, uh, graduated a year ahead. Not nearly as cool as you. Sorry. I’m a bit young for my grade, so I’m eighteen and in my sophomore year.”

Carina nodded, not breaking eye contact.

“You look like an English major.”

Henry threw his hands up.

“I do not! Why does everyone keep saying that?”

Carina shrugged.

“Well, are you?”

“Um...sort of? Classics. It’s in the humanities, so, yeah. Technically.”

“Oh. Do you want to be a teacher?”

Henry just about fell out of his chair.

“Does every person in the humanities at Yale want to be a teacher?” he exclaimed.

“No,” Carina said smartly. “But you’re not everyone, are you? So do you want to be a teacher or not?”

Henry was silent and traced his hand on the counter of the bar.

“I haven’t really thought about it,” he admitted quietly.

“My dear Henry,” Carina patted his arm, “that will have to change.”

///

Carina was surprised when the head of the engineering department stood on a chair to announce the end of the night. He thanked everyone for coming, said it was a wonderful evening, blah, blah, blah. For someone so good at gaging time, Carina had completely lost track of it. Carina decided that it was entirely Henry’s fault. She couldn’t tell if she’d been there minutes or hours and was only sure that Henry was definitely in the right major; he wouldn’t stop babbling and spouting misleadingly named “fun” facts.

She was sure she'd never met anyone quite so outwardly passionate about their major. His whole face lit up and he'd wave his arms around when he told her about the myths he'd been learning. He knew all of them by heart. It was slightly annoying and, Carina supposed, endearing to some, if they cared...which she didn't. Carina set her jaw and forced herself to humor the young Turner, who, from Carina’s observations, was completely smitten with her. The Dean’s grandson. It was already working out far too well.  

The one benefit from meeting Henry was that Carina didn't feel quite so out-of-place. Of course, she was sure that there were soon to be further benefits, but those would only come when her new friend asked her out. Carina was sure he would; his eyes didn't leave her face once the whole night.

A crowd flocked from the bar to the door and flooded out of the room. Carina took that as her opportunity to leave, or rather, escape. She stood, smoothed her dress, and tossed her purse over her shoulder. Henry froze mid word.

“You’re leaving?”

Carina nodded, trying to ignore the apparent hurt in Henry’s voice.

“Everyone else is, so I imagine that it's our queue.”

“You don't strike me as someone who follows what everyone else does,” Henry said simply. Unknowingly, he'd called her bluff.

“You’re right,” Carina said stiffly.

“So why leave?”

Carina was left speechless. She racked her brain for words and sputtered for a moment until she saw that the act was making Henry smirk.

“Why stay?” Carina crossed her arms and tilted her head, mimicking Henry but with a much cooler expression.

“I know a place with really good arepas. Want to go?”

And there it was: her key to save Jack’s job. Carina could feel a thousand thoughts swirl around her mind in the second that ensued and tried to focus on those of monumental importance. She'd have to be tied down to Henry, which, to some girls, might not seem quite so bad. He was cute, both conventionally attractive and in a way similar to a confused puppy. He was also incredibly talkative--to the point of annoyance. But he was smart, smarter than Carina would allow herself to give him credit for; doing so would involve admitting that she had been wrong in her impression, and even on a good night, Carina could barely stand being wrong.

“Sure,” Carina said slowly. “Sure. Why not?”

Henry smiled and reached for her hand. Carina hesitated, then took it tentatively, and followed him out the door, barely pausing to put on a coat. New Haven in late November was a disaster. Actually, Carina was certain that it was a disaster just about anywhere in New England, but Connecticut was no picnic. It was cold and windy, and Carina had to hug her jacket tight around her to keep warm. It did nothing to protect her poor knees from suffering the stinging winter chill, but it would have to do.

Henry tugged at her coat sleeve, conveniently snapping Carina out of her daze.

“What?”

“I’ve never seen a blue pea coat before,” he remarked.

“I bought it two years ago,” Carina gave a slight twirl. “I’d never seen one this color, either.”

“It’s nice. It matches your eyes and everything!”

Carina tried, and failed, to hold back the smile that was twitching on her lips. Immediately, she was hit by guilt with the force of a bus. He was nice--too nice for her plan. No, no...he wasn’t. He was just as nice as the next person, and if she wanted to save Jack’s ass--employment, she corrected herself--she would have to make some sacrifices.

The two waited together at a crosswalk without speaking. Carina bounced on her toes, willing the little white man to appear on the sign with her mind.

“I swear,” she muttered, “if that sign doesn’t change in fifteen seconds, I’m walking straight into traffic.”

Henry choked on a laugh.

“So what are these arepas, anyways?”

“Heaven,” Henry said with wide eyes. He shook his head abruptly. “Uh, sorry. They’re...um, well...they’re sorta like--they’re the leaning tower of Pisa, except made out of Colombian food.”

“I see.” Carina nodded, trying to imagine such an image. She made a mental note to discourage Henry from being a writer--for his own good, of course, as well as that of a reader.

Just before Carina was about to charge into the street, the light changed and they were able to safely cross. Carina watched Henry for a moment and, consequently, was caught staring. He treated her to a bashful smile.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Carina shook her head. “You just seem to know where you’re going.”

Henry laughed and pulled out a wallet. He opened it, reached inside, and pulled out a picture. Carina took it. A beautiful woman laughed, pearly whites gleaming. She held what Carina could only guess was a small Henry on her lap. Her head was tossed back, and her hair, sun-blond, tumbled over her shoulders. She looked like a goddess.

“That’s my mother. Her friend, Alessandra, owns the place, and we’ve gone there all the time since I was little.” There was no doubt that the woman was Henry’s mother. She had the same eyebrows, light brown eyes, and lightly browned skin. Henry was the spitting image of her. Rather, Carina noted, he was a perfect split of his mother and the man she knew to be Professor Turner.

“She’s beautiful,” Carina remarked, desperately trying to brush off the sentimentality of it all.

“Thanks. She’s the best mom ever. You should’ve seen me at Halloween when I was little; she dressed me up as an animal cracker.”

“An animal cracker?”

“Yup. I was a pirate the next year.”

Carina laughed.

“I still can’t get over the whole animal cracker bit. Do you have a picture of that?”

Henry’s eyes crinkled. He shook his head and returned his mother’s picture to his wallet.

“I do, but it’s at home. I was quite the animal cracker.”

“I imagine you fit right in the role.”

Carina pretended not to notice and fought hard not to tease Henry’s change in gait as they neared a cozy restaurant that emitted warm orange light. Whether her legs were frozen or Henry was abnormally hungry and passionate about Colombian food, Carina struggled to keep up with him. With great effort, however, she succeeded--in heels. Henry pulled open a door and held it for Carina; immediately, she was hit by a rush of warm air, and hurried inside with a chattering “ohmygosh.” A bell jangled above as Henry pulled the door closed behind him. Finally, Carina silently thanked the stars, the cold was gone. Her legs began to tingle as they became reaccustomed to the warmth.

“Henry!” A tall woman with dark hair and a beautiful accent strolled over to Henry with open arms. He embraced her and returned the kiss on the cheek she gave him. When the woman released him, her eyes fell on Carina and lit up. She gave a small gasp and glanced at Henry.

“Who is this?” she asked excitedly.

“Carina Smyth,” he said. “Carina, this is Yolanda. She’s Alessandra’s sister-in-law.”

Carina nodded a hello. Apparently unpleased, Yolanda tittered.

“Come on in, sweetie. I’m a hugger.”

She squeezed Carina tighter than Carina had expected; she wasn’t used to hugs, especially from strangers.

“Is your mom joining us, Henry?”

Henry shook his head.

“Just two tonight, Yolie.”

Yolanda squealed and danced over to some menus. She returned and used said menus to direct them to a table. Carina could feel the eyes of the kitchen on her as she tucked her dress under her and took a seat. Once again, she was the spectacle of the evening. Carina wondered why she’d ever agreed to anything in the first place.

Luckily, Henry was slightly more awkward than she was. He started off the dinner by recommending a dish, then asked her if she had ever taken Latin.

“Of course!” Carina exclaimed. “Lots of classes would be a whole lot harder without it.”

He then proceeded to ask: “What does a frog that knows Latin prose composition say?”

“Latin prose composition has an effect on a frog’s vocabulary?”

“Scribbit!” Henry grinned at her, and Carina shook her head.

“You, Henry Turner, are a born classics major.”

“So I’ve been told.”

They were waited on by what Carina deduced as the entire staff of the restaurant. In other words, Carina imagined, Henry’s date was being sized up by the family. She expected that Mrs. Turner would have a report on her every move before Henry returned home. Or wherever a professor’s son lived.

Fueled only by sheer determination, Carina managed to finish her arepa. Henry watched her with great amusement as she struggled to fit the last few bites of her meal in her already full stomach. Carina wouldn’t dare give him the satisfaction of her being unable to eat an entire arepa. Even though his Latin jokes were cheesy and terrible, she knew that he’d never let her hear the end of it, whether they were friends or otherwise.

“I’ll pay for yours.” Henry reached across the table for the bill, but Carina slapped his hand. Henry withdrew, rubbing the new red mark.

“You will do no such thing, Turner.”

“Yes, I will,” Henry insisted, attempting to make another grab at the check. Carina wouldn’t allow it and snatched it up.

“No, you won’t,” she said, waving a twenty in the air. “Not if I pay it first.”

Carina looked down for a split second to place the money in the bill. In that time, the gentleman-on-steroids lunged across the table and swiped the bill out of her hands. Carina was left in the same position, cradling the ghost of a bill. Henry grinned, handed Carina her twenty, and snapped the bill closed. He was far too smug for Carina’s liking.

“You may have won the battle, Turner, but I will win the--”

Carina was cut of by Yolanda’s return.

“All done, kiddies?”

Henry nodded and handed her the bill. Yolanda shook her head and waved her hands.

“No, no, no, no, sweetie. It’s on the house tonight. Anything for my favorite Turner,” she smiled broadly and pinched Henry’s cheeks, who attempted to smile through what Carina suspected to be pain. “Also, your mommy got me a really nice painting. I owe you all, Henry.”

Yolanda told them to have a great night, which she emphasized with a wink, and escorted them to the door. The entire kitchen staff waved at them through the windows. As she walked away, Carina smirked.

“See, Henry? If I can’t win, neither can you.”

“Apparently not,” was Henry’s astounded reply.

Carina made it about five more feet before stopping abruptly and crinkling her face in confusion. Henry turned.

“What is it?”

“I just remembered that I walked to the dinner,” Carina said.

“And how far’s your dorm?”

Carina paused for a moment, considered her once-again-frozen legs, and answered briskly: “Too far.”

Henry shook his head.

“I’ll drive you.” He pulled out his phone and checked a message. “...Right after I buy my mom groceries. Want to come with?”

Carina almost gave him a flat-out no. It was getting late, and tomorrow was a Saturday. She’d have to get up early if she wanted to make it to Claire’s for pancakes with her floormates. But then again, more time with Henry could equate to a favor, and she couldn’t risk the denial of that favor, not for anything. She could be late to pancakes; it wouldn’t be the first time.

“Sure.”

“To the apple store we go, then,” he said, turning left. Carina stuck her hands in her pockets and leaned into Henry as they rounded the corner with, as Carina reassured herself, the sole purpose of avoiding smacking into any dazed tourists or drunk college kids. The sidewalk wasn’t empty--it never really was. Groups of students and couples walked at alternating paces. The girls in the short dresses and heels giggled and stuttered quickly by, evidently freezing. Carina scoffed. At least she’d remembered to bring a coat.

One couple caught Carina’s eye; two lovers walked slowly, weaving left and right. Their eyes were fixed on one another’s face, and they didn’t once break their gaze--not even when the boy reached for the door and ushered the other in. Carina sighed. It seemed like that kind of love simply didn’t exist for her--never had and never would.

“Carina?” A hand appeared in front of her face. “You passed it.”

“What?” Carina looked to the store in front of her. “The Apple store is right there.”

“Uh...my bad,” Henry said sheepishly. “The little grocery store right next to it? It’s got piles of apples in front of it all spring and summer. I've always just called it the apple store. Sorry.”

Carina laughed.

“The apple store,” she said. “Well, we’ve all got our own names for things.”

Henry jogged past her to grab the door and held it open for her. Carina nodded to him, the closest that she could bring herself to thanking the boy that had dragged her around all night. Carina chided herself; Henry had no fault in her annoyance. She had the ability to turn him down each time he asked...why hadn’t she? It was nearing eleven--she’d had every excuse to leave. What on earth was keeping her? A ride home, she reminded herself as she stepped through a drafty area.

“She needs,” Henry paused and glanced at his phone, “milk, eggs, butter, vanilla extract…”

“Is she on a baking spree?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time. Coconut? Where the hell am I supposed to get coconut? It’s winter in Connecticut, for goodness sakes!”

Carina tried to hide her laugh, but a snort escaped her. Henry looked up.

“What?”

Carina lost it. Who was this boy, anyway? She had never met anyone, certainly no one at Yale, that would run his mother’s errands at 11:15 at night because she had decided to whip up yet another batch of who-knows-what.

“You, Turner, are quite a character,” she said at last. He nodded.

“I believe it. Do you know what shortening is?”

“Henry, how do you not know what shortening is?”

“Hey, it’s not as if I haven’t made cookies before! I’ve just never used shortening,” he mumbled.

Carina marched Henry over to the refrigerators. She pulled open a door, coughed at the cold blast of air that escaped, and pulled out a package of shortening. Henry, awe-struck, reached for it without a word and looked down at the mystery substance.

“So it’s like butter?”

“Yes.”

“Oh. Thanks.” He paused. “So why does she need butter and shortening?”

Carina shrugged. The rest of the grocery run was only slightly less eventful; Henry knew what the rest of the ingredients were, and it took a mere three laps around the shop to locate the coconut. Finally, fifteen minutes from midnight, Henry and Carina made their way to the cash register. A girl with a nose piercing raised her eyebrow and popped her gum.

“Well, aren’t you two cute.” Carina felt her heart drop. “I thought you’d never leave. This all?”

“Y-yeah. Uh, yes. Thank you.” Henry’s stammering response granted Carina the smallest bit of relief; she hadn’t been the only one struck with such a reaction. While the cashier rang up their baking goods, Carina let her gaze wander so that she wouldn’t have to look at Henry after the moment of monumental embarrassment.

“Sour gummy worms?” Carina exclaimed suddenly, grabbing a package. “I haven’t had these in years!”

“You like those?”

Carina nodded vigorously.

“Jack, my, uh….uncle, used to buy them for me all the time. I practically lived off of them until I got about five cavities, and then he had to stop buying them.” Carina chuckled, relishing in the memories of sitting on the docks in New Hampshire with Jack, tossing gummy worms into the air and watching Jack catch them in his mouth. She decided not to go into the whole complicated situation with Jack and Yale and the even more complicated situation with Jack and herself; it was far too late for explanations, and it had been a long week.

“Do you want them?” Carina shook her head.

“You filled me to the brim with Colombian food, remember?”

“Ah, yes. I still can’t believe that you finished that. I thought you were gonna toss it all up on me.” Carina had felt the same way and felt her lips tug at their corners, but her phone quacked, effectively dissolving the moment. It was a call from Jack.

“Do you mind if I take this?”

Henry shook his head.

“Not at all. I’ll go get the car.”

“Thank you,” Carina stage-whispered and hurried to the back of the store for some quiet.

“Hey, Jack. What’s up?”

“Hello, love. I’m alright, how are things faring on your end?”

“Fairly well--”

“What’s that loud buzzing? Are you in the freezer section of a grocery store, or are you being devoured by thousands of bees? If it’s the latter, I’m afraid I’ll have to skip out on the heroic rescue.” Carina rolled her eyes and laughed.

“No, Jack. You were right with your first guess.”

“What on earth are you doing in a freezer section of a grocery store at this hour, love?”

“Take a wild guess.”

“Hmm...I’ll have to go with shopping, but I’ve got to ask. Why?”

“I’m, uh…” Carina struggled to find the right words. “On a date? I believe it’s a date, at least.”

“Really?”

“I think. What’s it when a guy asks you to dinner at his family’s favorite restaurant and then invites you grocery shopping to pick stuff up for his mom while offering to drive you to your dorm?”

“Most likely a date, then. Who’s the guy?”

“A, uh, a Henry Turner. He’s from Yale. Not Harvard, don’t worry.”

“Wasn’t terribly worried, love. Turner, you say? Sounds awfully familiar.”

“His father is a professor.”

“Will Turner? Will Turner’s son?”

“Yes! That’s the one!”

“Must be a real dashing lad, then.”

“You know Professor Turner?” Carina was taken aback.

“Of course, love. We go way back.”

Henry burst through the door.

“Carina, there’s a police officer down the street and I’m worried he’s gonna ticket me for standing. Do you mind coming outside right now?” He sounded out of breath.

“Not a problem,” she said to Henry. “Jack, I’ll have to call you back.”

“Sounds wonderful, Carina.”

The line clicked and Carina hustled outside and all but dove into the passenger seat. Henry closed the door for her, raced around to the driver’s side, and started the car.

“Thank God. My mom would’ve killed me if I got a ticket.”

“She seems too nice,” Carina said, although she’d only seen the picture.

“You’re wrong,” Henry said with wide eyes. “She can be just about the scariest person you’ll ever meet--” His phone rang. “And that’s her right now. Hello? Yes, mom, I’m driving. Yeah, I know, but it’s fine...mom, it’s only...oh wow, it’s twelve. Yeah, I’ve got the groceries. Mom, can you wait a bit? There’s a girl in the car with me….Mom, please! It’s fine! I’ll be over in a bit, just after I drop her home.”

Carina shook her head.

“It’s fine. We can bring the stuff to your house first.”

“You sure?” Henry whispered, holding the phone away from his face.

“Of course.” Meeting Henry’s mother seemed like a great way to get a favor out of the Dean. Besides, if Carina would admit it to herself, she was curious. The Dean’s daughter was rumored to be a legend--she’d gone to Brown, but had been an Ivy sweep. There wasn’t a school that didn’t want her, and not only because she was the Dean’s daughter. Those sort of favors only applied to Yale. If anything, Carina had heard that her connections had made her entrance everywhere else harder, but she’d gotten in anyway.

“Okay, mom. We’re bringing the stuff to your house first...She said it was fine, I promise! You know what? I’ll just talk to you when I see you. Love ya, bye.”

Henry turned to Carina.

“Sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry,” she said. “Henry, isn’t your mother the Dean’s daughter?”

Henry winced and rested his head against the back of the seat.

“Yeah...yeah. She just doesn’t like when I tell people because she thinks that everyone’ll say that I got in on the Dean’s word and not my own hard work. You know mothers, they don’t want anyone taking away their baby’s credit.”

Carina didn’t really know mothers, despite Henry’s statement, but didn’t say a word about it.

“Since you graduated so early, I’m guessing it was your hard work.”

“Yeah, but people think what they want. They don’t know that the Dean has practically no say in admissions, at least not anymore.”

“Really? What does he have authority over, then?” Carina tried her best to be inconspicuous with her fact-digging, but she was fairly well convinced that she wasn’t doing a very good job at playing spy.

“Well, I don’t really know. Graduation, for one thing, and employment as well, I guess. I’m not too sure, though. Why?”

“Just considering becoming a dean.”

“I thought you were going for astrophysicist.”

“Who says I can’t be both?”

Henry laughed.

“No one, I suppose. You do seem like the type of girl that manages to do everything.”

“That’s because I am,” Carina said matter-of-factly.

Henry grinned, then leaned forwards and dug around for something.

“You’re not going to crash, are you?”

“Nope,” Henry replied, returning to his normal driving position. He handed her a bag. “Here.”

Carina opened the bag. To her surprise, it held a package of sour gummy worms from the store. Her heart fluttered slightly--who was this boy?

“You got these for me?”

“Yeah. Of course. I thought you could eat them for breakfast or something.”

“Breakfast? What on earth do you eat for breakfast, Henry?”

“I don’t know! It was the next meal I could think of!” Carina laughed--Henry was too easy to tease and too funny when riled up.

“Thank you, though. I’ll be sure to eat them for breakfast.”

“No problem,” Henry said, clicking on his blinker and pulling into a driveway. “We’re here.”

///

Henry struggled to open the door. He turned the key this way and that until Carina decided that she’d had enough and took it from him to try for herself. The lock clicked and the door opened on her first try. Henry looked at her over the bags of groceries.

“Beginner’s luck,” he joked while using his foot to push the door the rest of the way open. “Mom! I’m home!”

“Hey, Henry,” Mrs. Turner called, stepping out from behind the kitchen counter. “And hello there, Henry’s friend.” She looked at Henry directly after her statement, made a judgement based off his face, and winked at Carina.

“Thank you for letting my son drag you along to bring the groceries, dear,” Mrs. Turner said sweetly to Carina. Then, following Mrs. Weasley fashion, she turned to Henry and chided him. “What were you thinking keeping this poor girl out so late?”

“I wasn't--”

Mrs. Turner waved her son off and pulled a pen from the pile of blond stacked on her head. Her hair cascaded down in lovely golden waves--it was princess hair, Carina immediately noted. Henry had the same type, which she realized she'd been jealous of upon seeing it in the car. What was Henry to do with princess hair? It was an absolute travesty.

“And you are…?”

“Carina Smyth. It's a pleasure, Mrs. Turner,” Carina smiled slightly and extended a hand. This was a first impression she was determined to avoid screwing up, even if her hair had fallen flat and she somehow looked dumpy while in a nice dress standing next to Mrs. Turner in her pajamas--what sort of inhuman being was capable of such a feat?

“The pleasure is all mine, my dear. I was worried that Henry would get lost under his pile of classics and never make any friends.” She laughed.

“I have friends,” Henry pouted indignantly.

“I'll bet,” Mrs. Turner winked and leaned against the counter. She practically oozed swagger and power; Carina had no idea what she did, but she was certain that Mrs. Turner was someone in charge of something very important.

“So, mom. What was the baking stuff for?”

“Ah,” Mrs. Turner reached for the bag, which Henry handed over immediately. “It seems random, but I wanted to learn how to bake almond cookies.”

There was no “sorry for keeping you out late,” no excuse for the oddness of it all--Mrs. Turner lived unapologetically in her own image. Forget being an astrophysicist, Carina decided that she wanted to be Elizabeth Turner.

“Almond cookies? Why would you need coconut for that?”

“Flavor, Henry. Flavor. I see you found everything without a problem.”

“He didn't know what shortening was,” Carina said with the raise of her eyebrow.

“Henry, my darling Henry…” Mrs. Turner shook her head. “You will be spending more time in the kitchen with me! Come Thanksgiving, I'll have you baking like a pro.”

“Mom, you never spend time in the kitchen. And are you even any good at baking?” Henry asked tentatively, as if testing the waters.

“Absolutely not! But I'm sure you'll do well.”

“How can I--”

Henry was silenced by what Carina could describe as nothing other than “a look.” Mrs. Turner had raised her thick eyebrows and looked Henry right in the eye. Carina was glad that the look wasn't directed at her; she wasn't sure if she'd be able to stand her ground against Mrs. Turner, much like her son.

“Henry, don't keep poor Carina here any later! Let her get home,” Mrs. Turner shooed her son towards Carina before looking Carina directly in the eye and speaking again. “I hope to see more of you, Carina.”

“It would be a pleasure,” Carina stammered, all the while trying to ignore the heat rising in her cheeks. A compliment, or open invitation, rather, was quite a feat. It seemed to make the whole night worth it--the small talk, the snooping, and the horribly long date. Although, Carina forced herself to admit through gritted teeth, she had enjoyed some of it. Henry hadn't been nearly as dull or stupid as she'd expected the Dean’s grandson to be; she had imagined a brainless oaf who got by on legacy, while Henry had made one too many literary puns to be an idiot, despite his more-than-occasional cluelessness.

“Goodnight, mom,” Henry called, twirling his keys around his finger.

“Goodnight, love. And goodnight, Carina.”

“Nice to have met you, Mrs. Turner.”

“Same to you, Carina,” Mrs. Turner said with a nod. With that, Carina followed Henry out the door. She felt, for the first time in weeks, as if a weight had been lifted off her chest. Even though Jack’s employment wasn't yet secured, she was no longer as worried as she had been. With the Turners on her side and Henry wrapped around her finger, she could make things work to her--and Jack’s--advantage.

[eefsthings]

My depression, anxiety and embarrassing moments fighting about who's going to keep me up all night

[montmartre-parapluie]

La Viuda Marina Update

Hi guys! A quick update: I'm hoping to have Chapter 20 posted by the end of this weekend - as soon as Salazar finishes getting his 'what I did instead of movie-canon' backstory straight with Theresa...

[tockamybeloved]

Chapter 15:  La luna controla las mareas, y tú mi corazón

I would add a quote from the chapter but it’s rather...You’ll see. Plot? Not so much. Character development? I hope so. 

Enjoy the fluff now, because after this chapter things get angsty and delicious and you’ll finally find out who murdered Peter Trenton. 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22270711/chapters/73575189

approx 10K words and 3 months of work. 

[throbbin-bobbies]

Who wants a Cutler Becket fanfic???

I'm doing a bunch of Pirates of the Caribbean x readers and need y'all to send me requests!!!

I plan on doing a James Norrington and separate Cutler Beckett multi chapter story too.

It's just that I'm brewing some ideas and some potc x reader requests will help me whip up something good quick. I'll be posting those too

[lilolilyr]

Together at Last

Pirates of the Caribbean 5

300w (1k series )

Female!Henry Turner/Carina Smyth | Barbossa

——————————

A week could not be more confusing than the one Carina just had.

She had been the target of several witch hunts, even though at the first one she hadn’t believed in anything supernatural yet- a believe soon to be turned, and suddenly she was searching for an ancient trident and running from the dead.

Carina did not like this turn of events at all, and ‘Captain’ Jack Sparrow (not to be confused with tiny cleptomaniac monkey Jack), despite apparently already knowing about the supernatural, and being terribly drunk most of the time, seemed to share the sentiment in concern of dead men walking. 

The Turner boy, who had been awkwardly flirting with her since the beginning (and it had only gotten worse since Jack started giving him advice), turned out not to be a boy at all despite her manners and attire, and Carina found that she didn’t mind- and not because she didn’t want Henry anyways, she quite liked her, and maybe, once everything had quieted down, they could be more than friends…

She had sailed with pirates, dead and undead, evil and good alike… the latter not always so easy to identify, Barbossa, who had first seemed to be the most obvious opponent, turned out to be weirdly supportive of herself, and then-

After barely enough time to register who- what, the man was to her, she had to watch her father plunge into the deep.

 Barbossa. She was a Barbossa, and an orphan all over again.  

The evil defeated, back on dry land, she stood shoulder to shoulder with Henry, watching her parents reuniting and the Black Pearl sailing to the horizon.

Carina had lost her father, but she found herself a family.

——————————

Originally posted on Ao3

[intricatecaprice]

And after a day where emotional spoonfuls have been filled plenty, here I am ahah, I sincerely hope you're doing well ♡(⇀ 3 ↼) Sorry if I'm late for the fic asks, may I inquire - if it's no problem - the numbers 10, 11 and 18 for Bella Muerte? For the 18 I wanna make you laugh: what you'd change about the story while keeping it exactly the same? (=wild card, you get to change drastically 1 thing anachronistically/ fantastically/ nonsensically but everything stil goes the same, surprise me 😂)

Thank you @acidyellowlava for the asks!

I'm so sorry for the late response, I've been overwhelmed lately by Lori with her constant stuff and things

But I'm starting to come out from under the personal anxiety rock again (it's like a hobbit hole, I should've been a hobbit, I would have made a great hobbit, could've lived a boring uneventful life while writing super long epic stories...)

But here's the answers to your Q's 💗💗💗(And yay for Bella Muerte asks!!)

10. Was there anything that gave you the inspiration to come up with this story?

Well, I had a super vivid dream of (cursed) Capitán Salazar. After writing the dream down, and mulling on it for a while, I knew I wanted to write a story where he meets someone from our time, but didn't know how to frame it...

@blukoffee messaged me out of the blue (ha ha, Blu messaged me out of the blue, ha haaaa haaaaaa yeah ok I know it's not that funny) about a completely different thing, and we got to talking, and I realised that I can easily put a modern character with Capitán by using that old trope of:

So with acknowledgement to Blu, I started writing Bella Muerte.

Other inspirations for Bella Muerte have been movies like Back to the Future, Strange Magic, and books like Times without Number (a book about what the world might have been like if the Spanish Armada had won against England in 1588) and just about every age of sail novel by Julian Stockwin. With a few re-reads of certain original (and gory) fairytales by the Grimm brothers.

11. Any unofficial Soundtrack and/or Songs you associate with the story?

Light by Sleeping At Last for Athena and Capitán Salazar

Survivor (2WEI) for Athena (This song will make more sense as we see more of her backstory in future chapters...)

Vengeance by Zack Hemsey For... so many characters in BM... because so many... have... issues.

18. Open-Ended Question: what would you change about the story while keeping it exactly the same? (You get to change one thing anachronistically/fantastically/nonsensically but everything still goes the same?)

Gosh. What would I change. Hmm. That's a hard question.

My inner child screams "Dragons!" And just wants a dragon to come down to La María Silenciosa (what's plot, work it out later, just put a dragon in it!)

(Source)

(But... yeah. I think Capitán would take on even a dragon, no one sets fire to his ship (again), ready men - fire the sharks!... but now that's a completely different story)

So if I was going to do a simple change that does not affect the course of the story, I would... I would put an injured cat in the hold of the Proserpine.

And they hear its plaintive meows.

And then one of the humans - you know it's gonna be Athena, she will insist - has to pick their way across the dirt covered deck to retrieve the poor thing. All while Capitán Salazar watches, gripping his sword tensely, half worried she'll try to escape and half worried she'll get hurt and he won't be able to help her, and he won't stop watching until she's brought the cat safely back...

And then there's constant references within the story forever afterwards to the cat, which they will have to name something Spanish (after much arguing, they decide that the cat is definitely an Officer, regardless of gender, and should be given a grand Spanish Name, again regardless of gender) as the entire crew fall in love with the cat, and nurse it back to health, and even tough Bracero and impassive Miguel Magda get very noticeably attached to the ship's new cat...

Wow.

Sorry.

What is happening.

Um. Yeah. So. Names for a Spanish Cat?

[imaginepirates]

The Devil's Triangle

For @redballoonfloatingupsohigh666, who wanted something about a mermaid reader meeting Salazar in the Devil's Triangle and forming a bond with him over the years. Here you go!

~3350 words

@bonjour-frens @tesserphantom @ilikebritsandbands @viper-official @littleannye

~~~~~~~

           Turquoise ocean fanned out around you in all directions. The water felt very still as you popped your head above the surface. Your shimmering tail danced under you, keeping you up. For miles, there was nothing but ocean. A great expanse of blue that never seemed to end. Far beneath you, fish swam lazily through the water without a course to follow. You too were headed nowhere in particular. 

           You swam on, taking your time. You wanted to find an island or ship. You loved watching humans on their silly legs. They looked so unsteady up there, walking around. Didn't they fall? 

           As a mermaid, there was no falling for you. Only swimming around where you wished. There was so much to see beneath the waves; you felt badly for humans and their inability to see it. 

           You came upon it shortly. What it was, you couldn't really tell. Something dark, streaming out into the water. A sickness of the sea, a fermented path of oozing blackness. You stayed beside it, swimming just far enough away that it didn't touch you. You certainly didn't want that in your scales. 

           When you looked above the water again, you saw an island towering ahead of you. Black clouds circled over it, and a great shadow fell across the land. Curiously, the surrounding sky showed no sign of a storm. The island looked splintered and scarred, almost like it was breaking apart. 

           It was getting harder and harder to avoid the ooze, but you were desperately curious. You hadn't seen this place before. Some sort of witchery lay over it, of that you were sure, but you'd known enough witches in your time to not be afraid. 

           You swam more cautiously. Shadowy forms rose up beneath you. Broken ships with towering masts, sunken beneath the waves by jagged rocks. Other forms moved in the darkness, quick and flickering. You could tell just by the swish of their bodies that they were sharks. Big ones. And not normal. Regular sharks were bad enough, but whatever these were had to be monstrous. A seagull flew past you on torn, broken wings; you figured it had long been dead. 

           The island unnerved you. It wasn't natural. It wasn't the death that scared you; no, it was the slime. It oozed out of every crevice, pooling in gelatinous shapes above and below the water. It smelled of something wicked and evil. 

           A gaping entrance to the cave intrigued you. At least it was large, so you knew you could get back out again. As silently as possible, you swam through the opening.

           All was dark. Creaking sounds echoed through the blackness, great ships groaning where they had crashed. To you, it was a cacophony of sorrowful voices, and it did nothing to reassure you. 

           Water dripped. Wings flapped. The ocean lapped against towering spires of rock. There was something else, too, a soft echo you couldn't identify. Farther in you went, and farther, until you were beginning to worry that you might get lost or trapped. Then the echo stopped, and there was nothing but the sounds of unnatural nature and the ripples of your swimming. 

           It returned not as an echo, but as a whisper. Unsettlingly close to you, the sound must have carried across the whole cave for you to hear. Now, it sounded like it was in your ear, like someone was looming over you. You turned slowly, determined not to make noise. Nothing was there. 

           Beginning to feel afraid, you swam back the way you'd come. The entrance was still there, to your great relief. You'd swim somewhere else, somewhere bright and cheerful where you could watch humans dance. At least their legs were good for that.

           You let your thoughts distract you, trying not to focus on the inside of the cave. A flicker of movement, however, caught your eye. 

           You stared at the space beside you. Something was shifting there in the fog. It couldn’t have been any larger than you were, and it took all your focus to make out the form. The fog swirled and made the air thick, clouding your vision. The deeper you went in, the harder it got to see. 

           You found yourself on one side of a spire of rock. There was room at the base for something to sit or stand, but the shelf was empty. Only when you drifted to the other side did you see what had been moving. 

           A man. He hadn't spotted you yet, so you took your time analyzing him. He had long, dark hair, and was wearing a worn uniform. There were medals pinned to his chest, but they were rusting. He sat on the rock, warily eyeing the waters. His eyes followed the movement of the waves as they lapped against the stone. 

           Finally, he saw you. You were in the shadows, of which there were many, and you must've looked like a trick of his mind. He called out to you all the same, but in a tongue you didn't know. His voice was strained with fear, and his cries disturbed the still air. 

           Wanting a better look at him and to quiet him, you swam closer. He could see you now, well enough to know what you were. He ceased his shouting, instead looking at you with awe and horror. 

           "La sirena." His whisper was lost to the fog, and a ghostly echo of his words rang in the air. 

           You rested your arms on the rock, peering up at him. He kneeled just in front of you. Now you could make out features you hadn't seen before. A strong jaw, dark eyes, and paper thin cracks in his skin. You reached up to touch him without thinking, and he recoiled, falling over backwards in his haste to get away from you. 

           "I won't hurt you," you promised. 

           "La sirena can speak?" His voice was deep, deeper than most. There was an accent, too. Spanish, probably. 

           "Of course." 

           "What is a little mermaid doing in hell?" He rasped. 

           "I do not think this is hell, sailor."

           "Captain. I am a captain. And you know nothing of hell, little one, so don't tell me where I am."

           You considered this rude of him, but let it go. You were too interested in him to lecture him on his behavior. "What happened to you, Captain?"

           "My crew was tricked by pirates. We were damned to an eternal life in this place." He waved a hand through the fog. "I used to be the most feared pirate hunter in the Caribbean. Now I am nothing."

           "I'm sorry." You couldn't think of anything else to say. Damned to an eternity in this place seemed dismal. "Would you like help out?"

           "There is no way out. Not for me. I have already tried, sirena, and it did not end well."

           "Is any of your crew left?"

           "Most. We dwell on what land we can find. We avoid the water at all costs, pez pequeño. The depths are dark and full of terrors."

           "They are," you agreed. "There are massive sharks and oozing slimes. I was growing afraid."

           "You are not afraid now, sirena?"

           "Not so much, no. You have made it less frightening, Captain."

           He chuckled. "Have I?"

           "You, at least, I can talk to. Sharks bite and gulls scream, but humans talk."

           "It seems that little mermaids do too."

           "I enjoy talking to people."

           "You might enjoy living better. Go now, while you can. All living things must die; no hearts can beat here. Go before someone else sees you, or something from the deep finds you."

           You almost protested, but remembered how hard it was to see through the murky water and how easy it would be for something to catch you unawares. 

           "I'm sorry I can't help you," you said. 

           "You have already helped me, sirena."

           With that, you slipped underneath the waves. The blackness surrounded you, and ghostly sounds filled the water. A whale called out from somewhere far below you. It was mournful and heartbreaking, but eerie all the same. Shivers ran down your spine, and it wasn't due to the cold water.

           Once away from the cursed place, you stared back at it. It was a spot of black in an otherwise uninterrupted turquoise sea. Even the sky was black. You hated the thought of people being trapped within the island, and found yourself hoping for their escape. 

                                 ~~~~~

           You found yourself fantasizing about the captain in the following months. He was one of the few humans you'd ever spoken with, and even in his horrible state, it had been enchanting. You rarely saw any of your own species, and felt alone most of the time. Talking to yourself could only entertain you for so long.

           Unsurprisingly, you found yourself back at the island. The Devil's Triangle, you learned. A place where ships disappeared without a trace. A place where the living died and the dead lived. The superstition surrounding it didn't scare you; after all, you'd been before. 

           You came upon it again one day while swimming through the Lesser Antilles. You were less wary of it now, and wondered if you could find the captain again. Who knew what had befallen him in the time you'd been apart? Still, your curiosity drove you on. 

           He was in the same place you'd found him before. His hair obscured his face, and he sat limply, staring at the ground. He didn't look up in fear as you approached, though you were sure he could hear you. 

           "Captain?" You whispered. You pulled yourself up onto the rock, sitting on the edge with your tail in the water. 

           The captain barely lifted his head. When he saw you, however, his eyes went wide. "La sirena. You're back." His voice sounded long unused. "I thought I told you to leave."

           "You never told me not to return."

           He laughed. It sounded strange in the dark. "Why are you back, pez pequeño?"

           "I wondered about you, Captain. I wanted to know if you were still here."

           "Where else could I be? I cannot die, nor can I leave. I am the protector of this place. Everything that enters, I must kill."

           "Everything?"

           "Every ship that enters here, I hunt its sailors. Anything I can touch, sirena, I kill. It is a terrible fate, to be a man made for slaughter. It is exhausting."

           "Oh." You hadn't thought life could get worse for him, but you saw it now. The cracks in his face had deepened, and his hair had begun to take on a floating quality. If you looked closely, the same black ooze from the water dripped over his boots. He was slowly becoming one with the Triangle. You began to wonder if he intended on killing you, too.

           "I am forgetting who I am. Someday, I will forget my own name," he continued.

           "What is it, your name?" You asked. "I could remember it for you."

           "You will bring it back to me when I forget?"

           "Of course."

           "Salazar. Captain Salazar."

           You repeated his name, rolling it around on your tongue.

           He shivered. "It has been a long time since anyone has said my name, sirena." 

           "How long have you been trapped here, Salazar?" You purposely used his name. 

           "Too long," he sighed. 

           You couldn't agree more. He was obviously suffering, with nothing to do but be alone with his thoughts. "Can I help you?" You asked. You knew there was nothing you could do for him, not really, but part of you still hoped. 

           "You can stay a bit longer."

           So you did.

                                 ~~~~~

           You passed through the Devil's Triangle many times in the next few years, coming and going as you pleased. You grew closer to Salazar with every visit. He shared more and more with you; his history, his observations, his emotions, and his dreams of escaping the Triangle. Every man he killed drained a little of his own life. Every day the cracks in his flesh became larger, and blackness oozed from the fissures. 

           It broke your heart to see him. He hardly recognized you anymore. Sometimes you feared he would try to kill you. Sometimes he did. It would take him a few minutes to remember who you were, so you never approached him right away, instead getting his attention from the water. 

           Despite his suffering, he was gaining new powers besides. He had inhuman speed and strength, and could run over water, though he was afraid to do it in the Triangle. Sometimes, the powers of the island compelled him to do things against his will, and he found out just how strong and ruthless the island made him. 

           He looked more broken every year. You came to him one day after he'd killed a ship full of Spaniards. His rock was empty; he was deep in the water, trying to drown himself. You both knew it wouldn't work. 

           There was an entire person inside him shouting out in protest against what was happening. He didn't want to hurt people, he didn't want to kill innocent men. He just wanted to go home to his sunny land of Spain and live in peace along the coast. He wanted, more than anything, to feel something. 

           It was a visit just like any other. You swam through the ooze and the stench, paying it little mind. You'd been to the Triangle enough that it didn't scare you, though you stayed wary. Finding Salazar was now a matter of muscle memory. You swam past jagged spires of stone and the masts of sunken ships. The water was black and fetid, but you wouldn't be there for long. 

           Salazar was crouched on his rock, unmoving. You watched him for a moment, waiting to signal that you were there. 

           He was up before you said anything. He sprang into the water, reaching you in one stride. His newfound powers let him kneel on the surface of the rolling waves. A hand wrapped around your throat, long fingers squeezing tightly. His eyes were dark and terrible, and you saw nothing of him when you gazed into them. 

           The moment was over as soon as it had begun. Salazar released you and stumbled back to his rock. "Forgive me, sirena. I am not myself." 

           That you had deduced for yourself. "All the more reason for me to visit, Salazar." 

           He perked up at the sound of his name. He always did, like he didn't remember until you brought it to him. "You shouldn't have come. It is dangerous," he breathed. 

           "Any more dangerous than the other times?" 

           "Much more. I am more dangerous. I didn't remember you, little one. You put yourself in danger to see me."

           You knew his words were true. Deep down, where you didn't have to think about them. Still, you couldn't keep yourself away if you tried. You were too attached to him now. Realistically, you needed to let him go. He was losing his humanity too quickly, and if you kept returning, he might hurt you for real. Someday he wouldn't remember you at all. 

           He looked worse than ever, covered in black slime that seeped from the cracks in his skin. It fell from his mouth when he talked. To anyone else, it would have been repulsing, but not to you. To you it was just sad. 

           He noticed you watching him. "I wish I was who I used to be," he said. "I wish you had met me as a different man. A better man."

           "I'm just glad I met you," you admitted. He was the only human that talked to you. Others tried to capture you, and some were thoroughly horrified by your existence. 

           You sat on the rock, letting your tail drag in the water. Salazar sat next to you, his long hair obscuring his face. It moved around like it had a mind of its own. Carefully, you brushed it away and cupped one of his cheeks with a hand. He trapped it there with one of his own, making sure you wouldn't let go. 

           "It's been a long time since I've been touched by warm hands, pez pequeño."

           You were used to his pet names. They were endearing to you. He called you 'little one' and 'little fish' often. You always looked forward to hearing them. 

           You raised your other hand and took his face in your hands. He leaned into your touch as if desperate for the warmth it provided, sighing as you let your thumb trail across his skin. 

           "Even this I can hardly feel," he whispered. "Will you still do this when I cannot feel at all?"

           "Of course," you assured him. You'd keep coming back until he was completely lost, and even then, you'd likely return. "You can still feel, then?"

           "Barely. I can hardly remember what true touch is."

           "May I remind you?" He nodded, and you slipped into his arms, holding him close. You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, and he pulled you closer, tangling his hands in your hair and taking deep breaths to smell the salt on your skin. It was nice, though you were at an awkward angle, with your tail still partially in the water. 

           He murmured into your hair. "I am most human with you, sirena."

           Yes, you thought, but for how long?

                                 ~~~~~

           The next time you saw him, it wasn't in the Triangle. You were chasing a ship on the horizon, the sun setting behind it. You could only see the silhouette; any details were hidden. It surprised you, then, to find that the ship was falling apart. 

            At first you thought it was an old wreck that had run aground on a reef. There were two factors telling you this was not the case. Firstly, there was no reef. Secondly, the ship was still moving. It took you a moment to notice the black ooze seeping from its planks. Only then did you realize whose it was. 

          Sure enough, when you looked, there he was. He stood on deck like a proper captain. Not a human captain, exactly, but it was the best condition you'd seen him in for months. He looked almost happy standing there on the deck of his old ship. His hair floated around him like he was submerged underwater, but there was a smile on his face. You had to admit that it looked menacing, but it was still a smile. 

           It didn't take long for someone onboard to notice you. They called out to Salazar, and he appeared by the railings. It felt good to look at him in the light of day. It felt different, like some of the burden of his curse had been lifted just by being under the sun.

           For the first time in over a year, he recognized you at once. "Pez pequeño!" He called out. Black dripped from his mouth, but his smile had changed. It was softer now, you could see it in his eyes. "It's better to see you in the sun."

           "That it is," you agreed. 

           "I am close, so close. I will be free again, sirena. I can feel it."

           You swam to keep up with the ship. "I'm glad for that, Captain. I really am." You had so many questions. How did he escape the Triangle? What was left for him to do?

           How could you help?

           As if reading your mind, Salazar said, "I can explain things to you, but you must come aboard. Join me for a while. Until I have explained everything."

           You kept swimming, looking up at him from the water. It had been a long time since you'd traded a tail for legs. You looked at the rusted ladder on the side of the ship. 

           "Or stay with me," he continued. "Until this curse is over and I am free." He relished the word, its sound, its taste. 

           Your fingers wrapped around the rust covered bars.

           As if I'd turn him down.

[inkycrowwrites]

Imagine being the fianceé of Captain Salazar (Part three)

Pairing: Armando Salazar x reader

A/N: I’M SO SORRY TO LEAVE YOU ALL HANGING LIKE THIS! As an apology part three is way longer than the other ones. Where i’ve been? Some heavy personal stuff came up, but i’ve felt a little better now, getting through it with a lot of support! Shout out to Mod Demon for helping me with grammar once again! Thank you sis! & @salmicka1!!! i’m so sorry for worrying you dear :(. Once again if you notice any errors i encourage you to notify me via message at my personal blog @regipumpkin. (f/n) = first name, (l/n) = last name. Thank you so much for your patience! Again, sorry. ~ Mod Pumpkin.

Warnings: Angsts and violence.

Your crew was awoken by the thud of the last bag of provisions hitting the floor of the boat. They turned to look at you as you panted, all of the boats were ready to go.

“Miss (l/n)? what are you doing?” a sailor asked as he stood up. You looked back “oh! sorry to wake you up, but the sun is already rising so I guess it does not matter”.

They approached the boats “you loaded all of this by yourself, miss?”

“Well, I honestly couldn’t sleep and i wish to leave this island as soon as possible”

Angelica stared at you “so you didn’t sleep at all?”

“Probably just a couple of hours, but i assure you it was enough” the bags under your eyes showed that you were clearly lying.

Angelica placed a hand in your back “listen (f/n), as soon as we board the ship i want you to head straight to your chambers and rest, you did great”

“Alright” you smiled.

She turned to the crew “What are you waiting for? Let’s get out of here! To the ship!”. Everyone either retrieved the blankets they were resting on or pushed the boats out of shore, you and Angelica hoped in one and allowed yourselves to be transported back.

You offered on helping them carry the provisions back on board or at least set the course but Angelica insisted that you needed to rest. As you walked away you looked back, she had a funny look in her face, staring at the sword that never left your side.

The door of your chambers was violently open and a man was casted down the stairs. You jumped out of bed and rushed to aid him only to discover it was the captain.

“Are you alright? what happened?”

A set of steps descended towards you. It was Angelica followed by two of your crew members. She was wearing the captain’s hat and a grin on her face, “did you sleep well, princess?”. You realized what was going on, a mutiny just as she predicted, the only thing you didn’t count on was that she would be the one leading it.

You tried to reach the sword resting against the wall next to the bed, but the click of a gun stopped you in your tracks. You turned around carefully, she was pointing the gun at the captain still on the floor. You walked back to him slowly and helped him stand. He rose his hands up surrendering, you had no option but to mimic his gesture.

“Now you’re getting it!” Angelica exclaimed, “follow me” she guided you to the center of the ship and tied you to the mast.

The sailors looked down at you, relieved that they were finally getting rid of you. You stared back with a hard look on your eyes, making sure to remember each one of their faces for later.

“Angelica!” you spoke with a stern voice, “Angelica we saved you! If it weren’t for me you could still be dying on that island!”

“I know princess and i’m very thankful for that, which is why I won’t let these men kill you. They think you’re a walking curse. Instead we’ll set you free on an island, let’s see if your beloved captain comes back for you after all”

Tears formed in the corners of your eyes “And what if he does come back? You think he’ll spare any of you?! Remember when we encountered his ship! If it weren’t for me each and everyone of you would be dead!” Some of them backed away with concerned looks on their faces.

“Miss (l/n), please be quiet” the humiliated captain spoke behind you. You ignored him and continued to rant, “after Captain Salazar is done hunting that disgusting Sparrow pirate, he will unleash hell upon you!”.

Something changed in Angelica’s eyes “A Sparrow pirate?”. A crew member lost his temper and stepped forward waving a gun at your face “shut up! Shut up witch!” Angelica stepped in front of you “put that down before you hurt yourself, sailor!” he obeyed reluctantly.

She kneeled in front of you “you mentioned a Sparrow pirate, what did you mean by that?”

“...The man he’s chasing, they told me that’s what they called him”

“What’s the name of that man?”

“J-Jack Sparrow” she stood up and chuckled at your words “oh Jack, what did you do now?” She turned over to the crew and ordered them to untie you, the same sailor from a moment ago replied to her command “but we can’t trust her! she-”

“She’ll do as i say, believe me”.

They released your wrists, you contemplated the red marks that the rope had left on them. Angelica was quick to point a sword at your chest, just like you did back there at the beach “let me offer you a deal. I take you to your prince charming, we forget that all of this happened and he helps me catch him, are you interested?”

“It’s not like I had any other option”

“Your other option is to receive a bullet to the head and spill your pretty brains”

You stood up never breaking eye contact “I’ll take your first deal, miss Teach”

“Wise choice”.

It took three days, three tense days of not knowing if your food would be poisoned or at least spit on, three days of not being able to even close your eyes at night, or having water denied until you begged for it, but the moment you spotted the Silent Mary all of the suffering disappeared and was replaced with hope.

“Are you sure that’s his, princess?” asked Angelica as she inspected the ship with a spyglass.

“Every time he left i would stay at the docks and watch his ship until it got lost in the horizon, I could recognize the Silent Mary anywhere”

Angelica grinned “you’re so dramatic!”, her grin fell almost as fast as it came “I don’t see anyone”

“W-what do you mean?” Angelica handed the spyglass over to you “the ship is empty”. It was true, there was no soul around, at least in your sights.

“I-I don’t understand”

“Maybe they kidnapped them”

“No, that’s impossible. Armando would never let himself get captured by pirates, he would rather... Angelica, we must search the ship!”

“It’s too dangerous, it could be a trap”

“We had a deal, you were supposed to take me to him, remember?”

Angelica sighed “prepare a longboat, i need five men to come with us” she turned to you “if this is some kind of ambush you planned since the beginning your miserable first mate dies”

“I assure you i’m as clueless as you are”.

You were the first to board the ship. It was as beautiful and awing as you remembered, but just as you feared there was no one on deck except for the seven of you. It couldn’t be! You ran across the deck shouting names of loyal soldiers you remembered, begging for an answer from anyone. Finally the creak of wood caught your attention as a man emerged from the cabin “miss (l/n)?”. You ran over to him without hesitation “where’s the crew?” you questioned him immediately “where’s your captain?”. Behind him were four men, each as weak and malnourished as the others.

“They followed after that pirate, we stayed behind to guard the ship. That was four days ago”

“And what else?! Please, there must be something else you know”.

They looked over at each other, not being able to talk, almost as if it physically hurt. “We found some of their corpses floating” one of them finally broke the silence.

And just like the last time, they ripped him away from you. After all you had been through in the end it was worthless. Your knees gave up, you cupped your face in your hands and let out a shriek. As you crumbled down something caught the eye of Angelica, she picked it up from the floor and went over to you. She gently patted your shoulder as you looked over to her, trying to collect yourself. Angelica placed the object in your hand. It was an old medal your father, the venerated war hero, gave to your fiancé the day he asked for your hand in marriage.

The way it shined in the sunlight got you lost in a trance and slowly calmed your sobs. Was this truly the end? Were you willing to return to Spain empty handed and with a shattered heart? Madness took over you, this wasn’t over, you couldn’t just let his memory die like this, that pirate couldn’t just walk away like that! You fiercely stood up, Angelica backed away a little “We had a deal, didn’t we, miss Teach? you would take me here and he would help you catch him. But I’ll do it for him, we shall hunt this pirate together even if I die trying!” Angelica huffed and shook her head “you lost your mind, but i guess it’ll come in handy. The deal is on”.

The other ship arrived next to the Silent Mary, you climbed the ratline to catch their attention “Listen up sailors!” Angelica stared at you slightly concerned “get down from there”, you ignored her, “The crew of Captain Salazar is gone, you may feel relieved as your memories of them were those of demons out of hell, but you forget that they were once men just like you, some of us even knew them. They were our soldiers, our friends, part of our families! We shall avenge them. Those brave enough step into the Silent Mary, the rest can leave without any consequences. I sincerely wish you luck on your way back to Spain”. For a moment nobody seemed to follow, until four men boarded your ship, ready with provisions and weapons.

“Welcome” you smiled at them as you climbed down: Your loyal first mate handed you the sword you had lost and saluted you.

“Gabriel?” he turned around to the voice that called at him “¿father?” he ran towards one of the last survivors of Salazar’s crew and hugged him “Gabriel! My boy!”. You couldn’t help but smile at the scene, at least someone had a happy ending.

The man approached you and handed you something “miss (l/n), we found it in the great cabin” It was Armando’s Jacket, or at least one of them. You thanked him and retrieved to the tween deck as you felt more tears coming. You glanced at the departing ship one last time before it left, none of the men dared to look into your face.

You lovingly pinned the old medal that Angelica gave you back to its rightful place and kept staring at it, quick steps caught your attention but as you turned around someone pushed you against the wall behind you. It was Angelica, clearly angered “we lost two thirds of the crew!”

“You’re right” you answered emotionless “the provisions are going to last for weeks”

“This ship is massive! It needs at least thirty men to operate it! There’s only eleven of us, what do you think we’re going to do?!”

“I can’t survive another mutiny, Angelica. We shall all do our best until we reach-”

“A crew? You need a crew, miss?” a voice with a heavy scottish accent spoke from the darkest point of the chamber, startling you both. Angelica rose her pistol at the same time you unsheathed your sword.

“Worry not misses” the voice was getting closer “I assure you I only came here with benign intentions”

“Step into the light then, show yourself” you commanded, the intruder cackled but followed. The man could only be described as a monster, with a crab claw instead of a left arm, twisting tentacles as a beard and the right leg of a crab resembling a pegleg. The sight obviously disturbed you but you weren’t as shaken as your ally.

“Davy Jones” Angelica whispered, she lowered down her pistol alongside your sword, she knew it wouldn’t be a good idea to fight him.

“Wise choice”

“Why are you here?” you interrogated him “I heard you’re hunting down Sparrow”

“We are” you replied proud.

“Is your accent Spanish? huh, it’s funny since i’ve recently fished a certain spaniard captain’s soul from the bottom of the sea” Your eyes widened and your breathing grew heavier “Only now i caught your attention?” he chuckled and continued “When you finally trap Sparrow, what do you plan to do to that pest?”

“Collect vengeance”

“Perfect!” he grinned “would you ladies be interested in a transaction?” Angelica and you stared at each other, then back at Davy Jones “I’ll provide you with a crew, 25 strong and loyal men deprived from their free will a long time ago. You catch the sparrow and do as you want with him, but leave his soul to me. Once you hand him over I’ll let your captain go”

“We’ll do it” answered your partner before you could, almost as if she was reading your mind.

“Until next time, ladies” and just like that he banished back into the shadows. You just sealed a deal with the devil alongside a pirate, something not even in your wildest dreams you thought you could accomplish.

A bunch of heavy foot steps broke you out of your thoughts as the voices of the crew went silent with fear, Jones had just carried out the first part of his deal

“That was fast!” spoke Angelica, “there’s your crew” you exhaled, still trying to process what just happened. The two of you climbed the stairs to meet with the new staff.

Angelica stared as you walked at her side “what’s that?” she pointed at your hand “oh! it’s Armando’s jacket, they found it and gave it to me”

“Why don’t you wear it?”

“I shouldn’t, i’m not a soldier”

“Use it as a symbol then” she took it and helped you put it on, the jacket was way longer than what you needed, it suited you more like a coat.

“There! Now you look like a captain”.

[lifesend1789]

POTC5- the post credits Will x Elizabeth scene

I'm surprised that that I haven't found many Will x Elizabeth fan fiction regarding that particular post credit scene. My little shipper heart was squeeeing for joy, because hello, after Will woke up, he reached over for Elizabeth and she just rolls into his arms?? And the fact they were sharing the same bed!!!! And of course , is it truly Davy Jones that "visited"??? Anyone has fic recommendation please??? I absolutely need more shipper feels!!!

[primasveraas-writing]

Whatever the Horizon Brings

“Can you write a fanfic of willabeth post potc5?”

A/N: Yes, I can try! Lowkey about Elizabeth but lots of fluff and good times I think. Please, feel free to send more requests my way! I am happy to do them and I (hopefully) will be able to get to them faster in the future.

Word count: 620

XXX

Elizabeth Swann had been a married woman for almost 20 years.

Yet only now, with a son that was practically grown, with so many years between today and the day she married, did she get to enjoy a full, proper day of wedded life.

Certainly, it could be called unfair, and yes, she and Will could very well be proclaimed as star-crossed, but as the Pirate King stood overlooking the endless sea, her husband beside her, she felt, of all things, lucky. Overjoyed, because finally, at long last, Will was hers to keep, just as she was his.

A gale of laughter sounded from the beach below them, where Carina and Henry were. Both parents turned to watch the young couple as they walked along the shore. Henry was so like his father, something that had both worried Elizabeth and filled her with pride her son grew into a man.

“You have raised a fine son,” a low voice said in her ear.

“I am sorry,” Will continued, his voice dropping even quieter than before, “that you were alone in raising him.”

Elizabeth faced him, placing a hand on his chest to feel the beat of his heart. “But we have you now,” she whispered softly, a smile flickering across her face, “and you can stay.”

And like they had done before, so many times, they kissed. Fingers lost in the messes of each other's hair, bodies so close, and the endless wanting, needing for each other finally satisfied. Though their passion ran so deep, was infused into their every fiber of their beings, they showed no desperation with their action. Because, as they knew, as they had always known, even with the rage of the sea around them, even with the years threatening to tear them apart, that they would find their way back to each other, that they belonged together, and that they would end up in each other’s arms again.

Will and Elizabeth separated, smiles breaking out on their faces as they leaned in towards each other, foreheads touching. She sighed, relaxing into him, and his arms folded around her, holding her tightly.

Endless moments lay ahead of them. The night prior, they had eaten together as a family for the first time, and it was then, she realized, for perhaps the thousandth time that day, that all the waiting, and anguish, and tears had been worth it. To see the love in Will’s eyes when he looked at Henry, to spend the perfect evening with both of her boys, to be able to take Will to bed at long last. And thousands more moments like that were ahead of them. All the hells they had endured, all the death and bloodshed had been worth it, because now they were complete.

Calloused fingers cupped her face, though they lacked the softness of their kiss only moments before. ”What is it?” Elizabeth asked, feeling Will tense.

“I am so afraid,” he murmured, “after all that we have gone through… we could lose each other again.”

“And what would keep us apart?” She questioned, “What could?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. But something-”

“Nothing.” She replied firmly, “and if that danger should arise… then we shall face it.”

“Elizabeth-”

“We have made it so far.” She closed her eyes, pressing into him, “and fought hard for this. After all we’ve been through… nothing can keep us apart.”

“I love you.” He whispered in reply. “From the moment I met you…”

Elizabeth laughed softly, kissing him once more.

“But what now?” She challenged, “With all the time in the world,” she smiled teasingly, “all the adventures of the sea waiting for us… what next?”

“Whatever the horizon brings.”

[orionredstarr]

4/? This is a very fanfic material, and I can think so many possibilities (even angsty, too)! It's just sad that we'll have to resort to fanfics again. It would've been nice to get even just a smile or a hug from Elizabeth to Jack at the end of the film. That'd be a nice contrast to that conversation between Henry and Jack. But, well, I guess Disney wanted to drive a point.

I share your sentiments TOTALLY! And yes, we will have to result to reading Jack and Lizzie Fan Fics from now on…which by the way I find MANY talented Sparrabeth writers who pen far better scenarios and plots than Ted and Terry! LOL!

But like today with POTC5, it was sad back then in the original trilogy to see the total reversal and denial of Sparrabeth, and to be force-fed Elizabeth and Will Turner down our throats. Their marketing ploy worked to initially draw in a fan base to make the bucks. But, since then I have learned to accept it KINDA gracefully and realized that from AWE on – they (meaning writers T & T) would rather chew off their own leg in order to get free from that Sparrabeth trap they contrived for themselves! No more Sparrabeth tidbits for us in movies, it would appear. Sad indeed………I will slowly mope into a corner this time around, lick my wounds, and bury myself in a plethora of amazing Sparrabeth FanFics and be GRATEFUL that there are still devoted writers, those dedicated romantics  who will keep this flame burning as tribute to a loving couple who will live eternally in our hearts!!! Long Live Sparrabeth!! 😊

PS Check out the Sparrabeth fanfic archives at: LINK

[delectorable-blog1]

Hahahahahaha first day of being on holiday and I buy this (Can stare at it as I write more fanfic)

[montmartre-parapluie]

La Viuda Marina Update

Hi guys! A quick update: I'm hoping to have Chapter 20 posted by the end of this weekend - as soon as Salazar finishes getting his 'what I did instead of movie-canon' backstory straight with Theresa...

[tockamybeloved]

The Kiss of Sea Air: Chapter 30 - All the Moments Fall in Mist

‘I should have…’

A dark voice. 

Heavy, labored breathing. Gasping. Wheezing. 

The tinny sound of forged silver clanking against itself. 

And intruding, curling through the air to her toes and rushing up the blankets to her attentive ears. 

‘I should have had this…’ 

“Hello?” She called into the dark corner.  Perhaps Armando arrived. 

“Si,” a graveled whisper replied. “Siiii... cielo.”

Teresa shot up in bed, regretting having blown out the lantern not knowing where she could find the way to light it and fighting with the darkness to find her rosary that she lazily placed in her dress pocket. 

But it was across the room. Past the voice.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20141158/chapters/69115737

I have waited 10 months for this part of the story to arrive. I hope you enjoy. 

[jurijurijurious]

A snippet of Barbossabeth...

Here’s a sample of the Barbossabeth fanfic I found. The story itself only exists as lots of unfinished chapters that need threading together. I’ll hopefully give it some love when I find time, I think it’ll be worth the effort and a bit of fun, but I’m a bit rusty with my PotC fics - this draft is over 10 years old in itself.

It seems I had the idea to have a narrator begin or interrupt the chapters, then told the rest as a regular third-person narrative. It was also written pre-Potc4 and PotC5 but they might even help inspire an AU-type parallel story.

Anyway, you’re welcome to message me with comments if ye feel so inclined.

“Mate, if you choose to lock your heart away, you’ll lose [Elizabeth] for certain.”--Jack Sparrow to Will Turner, PotC: AWE

Chapter [x]: A Divulgatory Mood

Elizabeth followed Barbossa out of the tavern, glad to be free from the acrid aroma of rum, blood and sweat which hung around like an unmovable miasma within.  The night air in the street was not much better, though; the foul stench of alcohol out here mingled with vomit and raw sewage.  Tortuga was the gutter of civilisation, and yet it had a certain appeal to it.  Besides the fact it was the last free port, it was something of a haven, an escape from the outside world of law and order.  It was little wonder that many pirates in these waters rarely made port anywhere else, and spent the majority of their lives out on the seas.

Barbossa seemed to know Tortuga extremely well – far better than Elizabeth – and she wondered where exactly they were heading as he took her on a winding stroll down multiple, dark back alleys, from which out of the crevices they were monitored by wary gazes and hungry eyes.

“Where are we going?” she asked him at length, striding up to his side and angling her head up toward his.  “I’m beginning to suspect you’re taking me in circles.”

He favoured her with a little smile, his eyes twinkling.  “Ye’re as bright as ever, aren’t ye?”

She stopped in her tracks, feet sliding into a thick pile of mud, and she gaped at him.  “You are taking me in circles?” she asked in horror.

“Well, nawt exactly in circles,” Barbossa replied as he turned casually back to face her, placing one hand on his hip and the other on the butt of his flintlock.  “More like back and forth and side to side. Criss-crossing.”

She blinked, a frown creasing her brow.  “Why?”

He chuckled, giving her a once over with his eyes.  “Perhaps nawt so bright, then,” he murmured.

He watched how her lips tautened and her eyes flared at him, infuriated by the insult, which only caused him to laugh some more.

“My dear Mrs Turner, can ye think o’ no reason I’d take ye on a long and winding stroll?”

Her gaze tightened on his person, thinking on this for a moment.  “So that I might not know the way back?” she queried.

“P’raps,” he said before he gestured for her to come close.  Reluctantly, she did, but did not to let her expression waver.  Her face remained frigid and cold.

Barbossa put an arm round her shoulder, and she baulked, but he held her firm as he then whispered in her ear, “It’s more so we might throw off anyone who be following us.”

Elizabeth relaxed as she realised that he was one step ahead of her.  She still had much to learn, it would seem.  And perhaps, even now, he still aimed to teach her.

He released her with a pat to the shoulder and continued on his way, Elizabeth tailing him like a loyal dog shadowing its master.  There were more turns ahead, then a couple of passes through other unsavoury taverns, where they entered through one door and left by another.  Sinister eyes hawked at them both as they passed through, which left Elizabeth in no doubt that they were not welcome– or at least that she wasn’t.

As they emerged back into the streets, Barbossa made a turn to the left whilst overstepping several chickens that were loose in the alley, and Elizabeth, tired of this aimless trek, opened her mouth to protest.  She was silenced before she even had chance to begin, though, as a couple of extravagantly dressed ladies suddenly emerged from a doorway and closed in on Barbossa like lionesses to a kill.

“You in need of a spot of company tonight, sir?” the first asked, a tall blonde in a lush, red dress.  She slinked up to Barbossa and ran her hands up his chest whilst Elizabeth just stood and gaped.

“I thank ye, no,” Barbossa replied in what Elizabeth felt was far too easy a manner, and she watched the charmer in him flare up as he threw the woman a grin and gently moved her hands aside.  He was a clear old hand at this game.

“I have other business to attend to tonight,” he continued, tapping the lady under the chin before turning to carry on his way.

Elizabeth made a step to follow but stopped again as the second woman, this one a brunette garbed in rich purple, walked around Barbossa and took a hold of him from behind.  “Oh, surely you can fit a little bit extra on the side?” she cajoled, one hand sliding over his shoulder whilst she settled the other on the butt of his flintlock and began to rub it.  “You won’t be disappointed.”

Elizabeth could not help but gawp even more.  She wasn’t sure whether these two women were competing for the Captain, or whether they were asking him to come and ‘play’ with the pair of them; either way, she wasn’t sure what shocked her more – their open advances, or the fact that it was this man they were trying to draw some business from.  Surely there were other more appealing prospects on the streets of Tortuga…?

Barbossa, meanwhile, took hold of the second lady’s hands and removed them from his person, before he brought her round before him in a very gentlemanly manner and then bent to kiss her hand.  “Apologies, m’dears,” he said again, “but I can’t engage yer services tonight.”

And it was then that the two wenches deigned to notice Elizabeth who stood a short distance behind him.  Their eyes took in her breeches and jacket, her messy hair shoved beneath an uneven tricorn, and they sneered in disgust.

“You’re not with that thing are you?” the blonde spat.

Barbossa looked back at Elizabeth, face betraying nothing.  “Aye, but fer business, nawt fer pleasure.”

Elizabeth for some reason felt affronted by his choice of words, so folded her arms and cocked a brow at him.  “Then shall we get on to some business, Captain?” she pressed.

She saw the flicker of Barbossa’s brow telling her to keep quiet, but she was hardly in the mood any more.  Elizabeth Turner did not take to being snubbed lightly.  But her attention was drawn aside from Barbossa as the brunette cackled wildly at her.

“My word, look at her!” jested the whore. “I half thought her a youth!  There’s nothing womanly about her.”

Elizabeth glared at the woman, hand twitching for the pistol in her belt.

Barbossa ambled quickly between them, sliding an arm round the brunette and guiding her off toward the side of the alley.  “Like I said, m’dear, I have business with this young lady.  Nothing more.”

“I hope so,” the brunette scoffed.  “Ye be a Captain, right?  And a Captain deserves pleasuring by a real woman,” She ran a finger up his body, fingered the necklace over his chest, then tickled him lightly under the chin.  “Not a skinny wretch of a girl with not a curve or figure to show for herself.”

“What did you say about me?” Elizabeth yelled, fingers curving round the butt of her pistol.

The brunette flexed her fingers as if readying herself for a good catfight.  “You heard me, cabin boy.”

The blonde rounded behind Elizabeth, the pair closing in on her predators, but Barbossa stepped between them all, took a hold of Elizabeth under an elbow, and then put a hand to the hilt of his cutlass, eyeing the ladies steadily.  “I don’t want any trouble, m’dears,” he said to all three, eyeing them each in turn.

The two wenches glared at Elizabeth once more before turning their eyes upon the Captain.  His fierce eyes told them he was being deadly serious and they knew that, with hand upon his sword, he was not a man to mess with.  They backed down.

“It’s your loss, handsome,” the brunette grumbled, brushing up against him as much as she dared as she slid past him and left.

“We’ll still be here if you change yer mind,” the blonde added.  “When you want to remember what a real woman feels like.”

Barbossa watched them both disappear then rolled his eyes and pushed Elizabeth on ahead.  “On with ye,” he said, marching after her.  “We’re nearly there.”

Elizabeth straightened her clothes out with more ferocity than was necessary and kicked up a pile of mud in anger.  “I could have taken those tarts!” she snarled.

“I’ve no doubt,” Barbossa rallied.  “But it’ll do ye no good to be harming the locals, yer Highness.  This is their territory and ye be signing nuthin’ but your own death warrant if ye touch any o’ them.”

“You heard what they called me!  I don’t have to take that kind of talk from any one!  I’m a pirate lord, I’m –”

“Clam up,” he snapped shortly.  “They make their living off o’ men, and they’ll attack anyone they think might be takin’ some business off their hands.  They’re survivors, just like you and me.”

“Well they needn’t worry about me taking away their ‘business’,” she sighed, her fists clenching and anger fizzling within her like a lit fuse, burning through her veins.  She was suddenly filled with a feeling of restlessness and, for some reason, inadequacy, and it did not sit well with her.

“Just because I choose not to flaunt myself in public…” she mumbled on.

Barbossa rolled his eyes again before he realised they were near their destination and he quickly stepped up to Elizabeth’s side, put and arm round her, and turned her into the next doorway.

“Let it go, Mrs Turner.  They were cheap shots, don't take 'em personally. We have more import'nt business to discuss.”  And with a burst of cheekiness, he added, “Ye be married anyway.”

He didn’t look to see her face.

------------------------

The seeds of uncertainty are sown in the most unlikely of places. Elizabeth was unhinged by how easily the wenches had hit a weak spot in her person, making her suddenly very self-conscious.  But why did it bother her?  She had never cared before that she was not as comely as other women – in fact it had often played to her advantage to be otherwise.  Perhaps what had truly unhinged her was how attractive the wenches had appeared to find Barbossa.  Even if they were simply coating their words in honey to get his business, it cut her deep to feel so suddenly alone – even an older pirate was not short of company, but she… she had no choice but to isolate herself, for she was, as Barbossa had reminded her, a married woman.  The man she loved was out at sea, cursed to serve for an eternity aboard the Flying Dutchman, like Davy Jones before him, and was allowed but one day in a decade to come ashore and see “she who loved him”.

Sometimes love is just not enough.

----------------------------

The ramshackle building into which Barbossa led Elizabeth was leaning over on its rotting timber frames, as if it were as drunk on the foul Tortuga air as the town’s many denizens.  Inside it was a dark and gloomy place, and had it not been for the man in the corner, sat alone with a bottle of rum at one of the many tables (each of which was nothing more than an upturned barrel), Elizabeth would not have thought this to be a public house.

Barbossa strode over the straw-covered floor with the utmost care, as if he were expecting, at any moment, for an ambush might be sprung on him. His eyes searched the dark and empty interior, studying any gaps in the walls and any doors left ajar, his eyes lingering in particular on the lonely stranger on the far side of the room, but he was ultimately satisfied that he and his companion were safe (at least for the time being), and took a seat at a table right in the centre of the room.  He opened his hand to the stool on the opposite side of the table and Elizabeth, giving it a brief derogatory look, then seated herself before him.

A man in a soiled apron materialised all of a sudden from a backroom, and ambled across to the pair.  Elizabeth felt a little uncomfortable toward him; he was middle aged with greying hair, but it was his eyes, a pair of tiny but piecing black orbs, which really unsettled her.  She almost felt that he had the ability to peer straight into one’s soul.

Barbossa nodded his head at the man before asking for a couple of mugs of beer and flicked a few coins his way.

Elizabeth edged backwards as the man’s hand hit the table, gathered up the coins in a slow, slithering movement, before he pocketed the money and disappeared into the back another time.

Barbossa read Elizabeth’s frown before she even realised she had turned to stare after the man, and he said, “Ye’ve no need to fear ol’ Frank.  He’s a trustworthy soul.”

Elizabeth looked unconvinced.  “Just like you?” she retorted, which made the Captain laugh.

There was a snort from the man in the far corner, which made Elizabeth turn to cast a glance at him, but he appeared not to even have moved. Even more confused than ever, she returned her sights to Barbossa, who leant over the table and said, “Right, let us talk Jack Sparrow.”

“Why’s it your business?”

“Because he has something I need.  That’s why.”

Elizabeth smiled, lacing her fingers together and leaning her chin atop of them.  “Ah, so we’re back to bartering information?”

“Bartering?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.  “And what might we be bartering.”

There was a slosh of liquid as Frank slammed two pitchers of beer onto the table, then left again into the backroom.  Barbossa waited until he was gone, and looked Elizabeth hard in the face.  “Well?”

Elizabeth picked up the mug and sniffed at the contents, wrinkling her nose at it.  “What’s this? Smells like a latrine.”

“So what if it is?  I bought it fer yer so ye drink it.”

“But it might be poisoned,” she rallied jokingly.

“Oh, there’d be no point in killing ye, Mrs Turner. Nawt yet.”

She threw him a sultry smirk.  They were treading again on old boards and it was, for some reason, comforting.  She took a sip of the beer, found it to taste a lot more pleasant than she had anticipated, and then said, “Rumour has it you plan to find the fabled Aqua de Vida. Is it true?”

Barbossa took a long draft if his drink before he said, “Aye.  And whose loose tongue divulged that to ye?”

“Oh, just someone, somewhere.” Her eyes sparkled at him and Barbossa knew she’d be giving no more than that away.  She had certainly learnt well.

“News travels fast, Captain,” she continued, teasingly, “particularly when Jack Sparrow is at the head of the trail.”

Barbossa sat back and regarded her carefully.  She didn’t look like much, it was true, but the greatest danger always lay with those which were easy to underestimate.  Elizabeth had the advantages of not only appearing quite plain, but also of being a woman in a man’s world, and she used these cards against her foes with great skill and zest. He recalled that his initial relationship with Elizabeth had revolved around the pair of them constantly underestimating one another. After Calypso had brought him back to life he had been faced with the task of working alongside Elizabeth Swann again and it seemed that neither he nor the young woman had wanted to make the same mistakes with each other that they had the first time; and so a form of mutual trust had been formed between them, an unsaid promise that neither of them underestimate the other.  In truth, they were equals, and any conflict between them would quickly degenerate into a vicious circle of trickery and deceit.  At least when they were a team, their resources were pooled and their energies well spent, which in turn produced results.  There was no doubt that, had either one of them not been present at their last battle against the East India Trading Company, the enterprise would not have been a success.  A remarkable thought if ever there was one.

Barbossa smiled fondly at this memory before he said, “What interest is the Fountain of Youth to ye?”

“Does it matter?”

His brow rose.  “I guess nawt.  But ye be a pirate lord and pirate king these days.  Why don’t ye go off with your own men to find the treasure, if that be all that interests ye?”

“Because I don’t know how to get there.”

Barbossa’s eyes lit up.  Then there was still plenty left to barter for.  “I see.  Well, fortunately, I do – or at least I will do whenever we get Jack back.”

“So he has the location?” she inferred.

Barbossa nodded. “Aye.”

She leaned over the table toward him, lowering her voice to a whisper as she said, fixing him with a dark stare, “I do hope this isn’t another island which you can only find if you know where it is?”

Barbossa shook his head and chortled.  “Nay, it’s not.  I’d hold no hope of extracting the information from Jack if it were, either.  If he’s got any sense, he won’t likely trust me with such information again.”

“Indeed,” Elizabeth concurred, taking another sip of her beer.  “So Jack has the directions?”

“Aye.”

“On a map…?”

“As is customary.”

“Why does he need the map?  Doesn’t his compass work for this?”

“Oh, aye, I’m sure it works fine if he can set his mind to it.  But if he has the map, then I don’t.  That’s the point.”

Elizabeth laughed – typical men, in constant competition with one another!

“And what makes you think Jack hasn’t gone off to find it on his own?”

“I’m nawt saying he hasn’t, but unless he’s commandeered another ship and got himself another crew, I find it unlikely.  Besides, he loves the Pearl too much.  He’ll want her back sooner or later.”

Elizabeth’s lips slid up into a smug smile.  “Well fortunately for you, he hasn’t got himself a ship or a crew.”

Barbossa laughed, expecting as much.  “Didn’t think so.  So, where be he now?”

“Locked up.”

Barbossa groaned.  “Locked up?  Ye mean we’ve got to spring him from gaol?”

Elizabeth held his eyes.  “It wouldn’t be the first time, now, would it?”

“Not fer some,” he replied.  “And what’s he gone down fer now, might I ask?”

“Oh I don’t know.  You could fill a book with the crimes that man’s committed.  They probably took a pin and stuck it randomly onto a list and charged him for it.”

Barbossa took a couple of swallows of his drink then slammed the pitcher down with a slosh.  “It’s bloody careless of him… especially after everything that’s happened!”

Elizabeth didn’t seem so irritated.  “He’s Jack Sparrow.  You expected anything less?”

Barbossa eyed her sharply.  “I expected never to have ta see his sorry carcass again.  Why is it that I always end up running after him, or him after me?”

Elizabeth made a mocking shrug.  “Maybe it’s destiny, Captain.  Or a curse.”

Barbossa scoffed.  “Don’t dishearten me.”  He then looked over her countenance carefully and said, “So what is it ye be wanting in return fer this generous sharing o’ information?”

Elizabeth sat back, smugness written across her features.  “I want a part of the prize.”

Barbossa blink then choked out a laugh of disbelief.  “Ye want some of the fountain of youth?  You’re still but a girl yeself!”

That didn’t impress her in the slightest. “Am I? Well, this girl might be able to sell her information elsewhere.”  She got to her feet, ready to leave, and was surprised at first when Barbossa didn’t rise to stop her; he wasn’t as easily swayed as the others.

“Ye may walk out that door, missy, but ye ain’t got a clue where ye be going.”

Elizabeth’s expression faded to slight panic.  He was right.  Perhaps this was also why he had chosen to bring her on the most winding, confusing of routes to this secretive little place.  And she knew that more than mere wenches might be waiting in the dark and narrow backstreets of this seedy underworld.  She could handle a sword; she could look after herself; but she was one woman lost in a dark underworld, it perhaps wouldn't be wise to go out there alone.

“You bastard,” she murmured, throwing herself back onto her stool with a definitive thud.

“Takes one ta know one,” he countered before flashing her a toothy grin. “So, let’s be straight with one another.  You get part of the plunder in return for divulging Jack Sparrow’s locale.  Agreed?”

“I want passage aboard your ship, too.”

He looked confused by this request.  “Why, in God’s name?”

“Because I don’t trust you, that’s why.”

There were words as yet unsaid, and as Barbossa lounged back and looked hard into Elizabeth’s suddenly reticent eyes, he thought that he understood what else this might be.

“And ye’re bored, aren’t ye?”

She pulled that face which denied all accusations set against her. “I am not!” she said.

Barbossa’s smile was full of confidence, though, for he knew he was right this time.  “Oh ye are, I can see it.  Not enough going on fer ye back at Shipwreck Island?”

“Enough, thank you.  The East India Trading Company are on to us, you know.  They keep sniffing around like hounds on a scent and –”

“And yer men can go out and deal with them, no problem, right?  Sao Feng left you a good group o’ pirates, did he nawt?”

“Yes but we still have to keep them away from the cove, and  –”

He interrupted again.  “Oh that battle will never end.  It’s always been there – the authorities versus the pirates.  Ye know that ye can fight all ye like, but we’ll never win.  We’ll kill one Cutler Beckett and another one will rise up.  Can’t be helped.  And you know ye can’t waste yer life constantly fighting them, or else ye wouldn’t be here now, would ye?”

Elizabeth scowled at him and folded her arms.  “You’d be the same if you were pirate king.”

“Don’t be so sure,” he rallied, and chuckled into his beer as he watched her puzzled face, trying to comprehend what was going through his mind.

Since she had lost a foothold in this situation, she sought to change the subject.  “So, are you a regular here…?” she asked.

Barbossa was puzzled this time.  “Here? What do ye mean by ‘here’?”

She inclined her head towards the door.  “Tortuga.  The wenches.  You seem an old hand.”

“Ah…” he nodded, comprehension dawning.  “Well, once upon a time, p’rhaps I was more of a ‘regular’, but that all stopped with the cursed gold.  There be no point in paying a woman to pleasure ye if ye can feel none of it.”

Barbossa monitored Elizabeth’s face, wondering if she might blush at such bluntness, but she did not.  That impressed him.  She was more hardened than that whelp she called husband.

“To be frank, Mrs Turner,” he continued light-heartedly, “ye perhaps be more experienced than I in those kind o’ things now.”

She giggled over her beaker at him, which brought a smile to his face. She could be pleasant enough company, if nothing else.

“What makes you say that, Captain?”

He ran a finger round the rim of his mug, looking down into the near empty pitcher before reconnecting his gaze with hers and saying, “I’ve nawt touched a woman since before I was resurrected, therefore I see meself as being a virgin all o’er again.”  He raised his mug in her direction before taking a swig.  “You might have ta teach me a thing or two now.”

Elizabeth seemed sceptical.  “Are you sure? You and Tia Dalma seemed mighty close on occasion.”

“Trifles. One can but have affection fer she who raised one from the dead.  We played around but nuthin’ happened.  It be too dangerous for a man to get entangled in her web.  Not worth sharing a bed with her, I tell ye now.”

Elizabeth laughed another time and shook her head.  “Very well, I shall do my best to believe you.  But I still count myself as rather inexperienced in the matter, so you had better go back to your whores and ask them to remind you how it’s done.”

He finished off his drink, put down the empty mug, and rose to his feet. “Now I can’t be doing that, Mrs Turner.”

She cocked a brow in jest.  “Why ever not?  Isn’t it what you always used to do?”

“It is, but well, but fer one, I’m loathe to part with me money, and two, I think I can do a bit better for meself now.”  He threw her a wink and turned to go.  “Are ye coming or will ye be finding your own way back?”

Elizabeth finished off her beer in one hearty swallow and then got up to follow.  “I’m coming.  I don’t fancy been left lost in the alleyways with all those tarts about.”

Barbossa’s lips parted in another grin.  “Aye. Would be a fine way for Mrs Turner to go, that.  At the hands of Tortuga’s women of negotiable affection.”

They turned as one to go, weaving in between the haphazard array of tables and stools, before suddenly, like a bolt from the blue, the man in the corner shot to his feet and proclaimed at the top of his voice.  “Genesis!  Genesis!  Genesis!”

Elizabeth and Barbossa turned, brows creased as the man continued to repeat the word over and over.  They then watched as Frank the bartender came out of the back room with an oar slung over his shoulder, which he promptly swung into the lunatic’s face.

There was a heavy ‘thunk’ before the man crumpled into a pile over his table, sending his bottle of rum rolling onto the floor.

Frank turned to the departing duo.  “’m sorry, guvnor. He raves, this one.”

Barbossa looked again at Elizabeth then shrugged.  “T’wasn’t raving at us.  T’is no problem.”

They then began to leave, but heard Frank mumble as they went, “Don’t be so sure.”

TBC…