Disclaimer: All characters, with the exception of Christine, and some events are the property of Mickey Mouse inc. All other material is my creation. You are welcome to get ideas from my work, but please don't steal.
Note: This story takes place before the events of "At World's End", so don't be expecting exact references to this movie.
Barbossa strolled impatiently over the floor in the cabin for the third time around. He sighed, frustrated.
"You will wear a hole in the floor, and then you'll have a devil to pay."
"A devil by th' name of Jack Sparrow?"
She smiled. Barbossa couldn't help but feel his exasperation melt away. The young woman in front of him had long, curly chocolate-colored hair and the deepest ocean-blue eyes. But looks can deceive, for this maid was not as sweet as she presented herself to be. She was fiery, passionate, and uncontrollable. She had a brazen love for the sea, and was indeed its equal, maybe its rival, in being untamable.
"Jack Sparrow will throw a fit if you steal the Pearl and stick him with a ship that has a broken hull because it has become your personal pacing ground."
He flinched, if only for a moment. "Am I to understand that ye think I fear th' wrath of that scurvy chowderhead?"
"No," she smirked, "of course not."
It was his turn to smile. However, it vanished when he sat gingerly down beside her. She stiffened in anticipation. She might not like what he was about to say, but he was going to say it before he lost his nerve.
"Ye've got to tell 'im."
"I 'have' to tell who what?"
"Yer brother. Ye've got to tell him the truth."
She shrank away, as though he had just hit her. "You cannot be serious."
"Oh, I see. Ye want him to end up like yer father."
She rose to her feet, the blood had rushed to her head. She shot him an angry glare, and ran out of the room before he could say anything more.
Back in her own quarters, she pulled back her hair and set her hat on top of it. Her men's clothes were baggy enough to conceal the fact that she was a woman…a technicality that only Barbossa was aware of, but it would not be that way for long. The pirate captain would have his way.
She pulled back the sleeve of her long, white shirt to reveal the scar. The angry red welt ran from her shoulder to the hinge of her two arm bones. The scar was a painful reminder.
Would Will end up like his father? She prayed not…the Turner family was tied to the ocean. Sooner or later, the truth about all of them would be set free.
Some secrets are better off being secrets.