Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean. If I did, the sequels would have been WAY different.

A/N:

-OK, new dark angsty story. I may as well post the warnings now. So: slavery, adult (cough) situations, torture, and possible rape.

-Another note: a couple characters will be OOC, namely Governor Swann and possibly Norrington.


Night in Port Royal. By all standards, the most peaceful part of the day. The heat of the day had dissipated, the streets quiet, every lantern and window darkened. But this night, one was still lit, one light at the house of the Governor.

The mansion itself was silent, all the servants having long since retired. The governor's daughter had also taken her leave, exhausted from the events of the day. Only the governor remained awake, barricaded in his study.

The wood-paneled room was lit by a single candle, the wax melting steadily to drip on the finely made oak desk. Weatherby Swann paid no mind to it, so focused was he on the task at hand. Brows furrowed, he read through each and every document carefully: requisitions, orders, promotion recommendations, arrest warrants…The only sound that could be heard was the scratching of his quill, intermittent with the rustling of paper and the occasional sigh.

Suddenly, all movement ceased, and the sound of a chair scraping back followed by the sound of pacing echoed through the cavernous room.

It was no use, Governor Swann thought. He had sequestered himself in his study in hopes of escaping the worries chasing themselves around his mind…worries about his daughter and one William Turner.

He'd liked the boy when he was younger…a good worker, with a sense of propriety…someone who knew his place. But things had changed of late. He'd become…bolder, that was the only word for it. Overambitious. The governor would not have minded so much, were it not at his daughter's expense.

He'd hoped - oh, how he'd hoped! - that his daughter's infatuation with the blacksmith had only been a product of her unfortunate run-in with those pirates, that her taste for adventure would soon diminish, that she would soon come to her senses. Surely she must have realized that a poor craftsman could never provide for her!

Perhaps she did…but now Turner has given her no choice, Swann thought angrily. She seemed to have been tricked into believing she loved him, when really, the boy would only break her heart in favor of some younger wench, one not in his daughter's condition. Which was Turner's fault!

He turned on his heel to unlock an ivory box on his desk, producing a weathered document.

When this particular "solution" had first been presented to him, he'd laughed at it. It hadn't even been a consideration! Who had the right to sign away a life like that? But now…

Swann sank back into his chair, fingers tapping pensively against his lips. He'd heard their reasons behind it, that it was only reserved for those against whom legal action could not be taken. And this was certainly one of those instances, wasn't it? Still…

He'd known Turner for almost all the boy's life. Could he condemn him to this fate? Was it even his place?

Another thought slid into the man's troubled mind:

Everything I do, I do for my daughter.

His resolve set, the governor inked his quill and signed the parchment, signing away the life of William Turner.

TBC…

So? What do you think? I know it's short, but this IS only the prologue. Please review!