Chapter Revised: 7/10/05

Whew my first fic ladies and gentlemen! YES! I am very excited! I have anticipated this for awhile now! This is not just my first fic that I have posted on myself, this is my first fic in 2 YEARS! That's a very long time for a writer! So without further delay my story!

Summary: A mysterious young woman washes ashore in Port Royale with nothing of her past but a name ingrained into a necklace and strange markings upon her back. Taken in by the newlywed Turners, she attracts no attention to anyone in particular until a certain pirate captain rolls back into town. Adventure and a tiny bit of romance ensues.

Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean nor any of its characters. It all belongs to the Mouse and Michael Eisner... fudge bunnies and nut jam... don't get me started on CEOs . think happy thoughts... chocolate covered Jack Sparrow... yum... ok I'm better now! . I also do not own the song Des Tages Weihe (I hope that spelling is accurate, I did it from memory); it belongs to Franz Schubert. I do not claim the song nor its translations (my title is one of the translations). Enjoy!

Fortune's Pilot

Floating. My limp body bobbed to the rhythm of the waves, my mind creating music to accompany the undulating motion. Plunk plunk The agony in my raw wounds had long subsided, leaving me with a feeling of numbness, of floating. Crashing, salty waves stung my face but only with the fleeting pain of a bee for the creature soon falls dead after committing its first and last violent act. Sunlight danced tauntingly across my face, mocking my plight with golden rays, offering me hope but holding it above me just out of reach. Still none of that seemed to matter at the moment for a song swept through my mind as the cruel sea purred; a song of impending death. Plunk plunk

Graceful dancers greeted my vision in a bright, colorful flurry of skirts as the song fluttered about my head, my soul filled with peace and calm as I drifted away from the land of the living. So this is what dying feels like., I thought to myself with a mental smile, It's so lovely, so fair, all these colors. Death did not frighten me for my aching body longed for the song to end and my mind longed to be laid to rest. Plunk plunk Underlying that fatal melody, I found another song but this one came from the earthly realm, the plane that I was leaving. I wanted to voice the words and feel the poetry of that lost song one last time as I opened my mouth to sing.

No notes or rhythms comforted me, only the saltiest water seized my tongue and burned my throat. It was then I lost the calm acceptance of Death's embrace and struggled against him one last time. My weakened arms flailed in an attempt to swim, to bring myself into the living air, to escape my fate. Kicking against the immovable sea, my legs fought to bring my air deprieved mass up. But the water had long before robbed me of my strength and soon my legs cramped and my arms ached.

Death was not too far away. I could see him swimming toward me in fuzzy flashes of vision; dark hair, dark eyes, bronzed skin. Oh but he was handsome, perhaps dying would not be so horrible after all, for Death's face was kind as he grasped my body around the middle and pulled me into his world and my oblivion. His warm, muscled chest nearly scorched my water-frosted skin and I shuddered. Abruptly, my poor, weary flesh scratched against a solid surface, an area as rough as unvarnished wood. This must be the land of the dead., I said to myself as my glazed eyes fell upon Death's face above me. His soft mouth moved but my ears absorbed no sound.My vision hazed to black and darkness swallowed me into its depths; I knew no more.

oooooooooooooooooooo

CRASH! OOF! I topple from my bed in a flurry of soft, tangled sheets and pillows, still within the hold of my dream. Oh that felt good! Grumpily, I force myself to sit up gracelessly upon the floor, my crow-colored strands covering my face in snarled loops. "Mmm... absolutely brilliant. Good work Sky," I grumble to myself, rising from my spot on the floor and heaving the sheets back onto the bed.

I know what you are thinking, what kind of name is Sky? In truth, I haven't the foggiest, as the British are fond of saying. Hell I'm lucky that I know my name. My dream was no ordinary phantasm of the night but in fact my earliest memory. Six months ago I was rescued from the jaws of death by my current benefactor, Mr. William Turner. I call him Will for short; he doesn't mind neither does his lovely wife Liz or Elizabeth. Ahh yes the Turners, probably the nicest folks I have ever met if you discount the fact that I cannot remember anyone else before them.

Reaching my hand across the nightstand, I grasp the chain of my necklace before bringing it toward me and placing it about my neck, caressing the silver feather charm in a loving manner. On the back is carved a message along with what I believe to be my name; "To my beloved Sky". This is the only material object I posess from my past unless you count the tattoo upon my right shoulder blade. In black ink there is a compass etched into my skin or at least that's what it looks like except for the strange markings inside of the compass. I once questioned Will about the image and if he had seen such a thing before; to my chagrin, he replied no.

Ahh but one cannot wallow in self-pity when there's too much life to be lived, just not so early in the morning. I groan before flopping backwards and pulling a pillow over my head. Just then a rapping on my door reaches my ears and a sweet voice rings out.

"Sky, are you going to sleep all day?" It's Liz and her early bird cheer. I love Elizabeth but one thing about her that I cannot stand is... "I hear you moving about in there! Come on it is time to start a new day!"

"I don't believe Sky wants to start a new day right now. Come back in a few hours," I reply, slightly muffled by the pillow nearly covering my entire face with only a little mouth to be seen.

Sighing, she calls back in sing-song, "Oh well, I'll just have Will eat your entire portion including the cook's famous bacon and eggs."

At this I shoot up from under the mass of sheets, suddenly sitting up, my face screwed up into a fake scowl. "You're a hard woman Liz Turner," in resignation I sputter my lips and continue, "Fine I'll be down in a few minutes."

I can almost see her grin through the door when she answers, "Good! It is best you make haste or the food will be gone!" With that I hear her footfalls moving away from my bedroom door. I fall back once more and say to myself, "And up she goes again," before I climb out of the warzone of a bed, throw on a few choice clothes, and head downstairs for breakfast.

The Author's Two Cents: A slow start I know but I wanted people to get a feel for my character before I moved on with the plot. Our favorite Captain Jack Sparrow has yet to make an appearance and probably won't make an appearance in the next chapter (I'm sad to say sobs) but he'll be showing up pretty soon. Sky makes a discovery about her past in the next chapter so stay tuned! . Ahh yes and review! I do love feedback from my readers!

Chocolate-Covered Jack Sparrow Forever, FloatingFeathers