"She who'd throw away what love her most, don't deserve ta feel dat love. She don't deserve ta love."
She knows this, has known it for a long time, reinforces it with the fall of the fortunes she casts. His fortunes. Tell she dat love him where he be, she whispers like a lover to the handful of claws, and yet, whence cast, they show her naught. Yes, in them she can read his place upon her stolen sea, but that isn't the knowledge she seeks. They cannot tell her what she needs, what burns in her though she insists she needs it not. They cannot let her know where lies his heart, nor if it still belongs to her as it once had. Still, she casts them anyway.
Sometimes she seems to forget her need, her passions shifting like those of a child with too many toys to choose from. Years pass without once casting for the heart, affections slip from one man to the next, all guilt, remorse, and pain fade like the sunset, and she indulges in each passing fancy as it comes. But none come close to what she felt with him; none can match the joy and pain and pleasure given her by Davy Jones.
Once in a long while she'll be reminded of him; the timbre of a voice, the flick of a glance. But as soon as the hope surfaces it sinks back to the depths, weighted by impossibility, steeped in the salty truth she's so long avoided. It sleeps in her, this truth, silent as the grave she so fears, patient through the years and years she's lied away the pain.
He was waiting for her that day so long ago, had been waiting ten years for it. And she had left him there to wait his one precious day away. At the time it had seemed like nothing to her; after all, what was one day to a goddess? In the endless expanse of the time she had before her, the ten years he'd been without her were but one switch of the tide. Where she had missed this one day he had on land, there would always be others. She knew nothing of the raw, agonizing, entirely human need that had dogged him to the edge of the earth and back. She who had never been abandoned could not know what it was to be stranded on that godsforsaken stretch of beach. Until she was left waiting there herself.
The pain had been unfathomable. Like her heart had been rent from her and dashed against the ground, and everything else she'd ever felt had paled into white sand, slipped through her fingers like sand. And like sand, the one thing she'd ever valued was swept away by the very waves she commanded.
She would never appear to him at sea, that much she had vowed. After all, she was a goddess, and what goddess would ever admit to needing someone else in such a way? Need makes one weak. Calypso would never be weak. She would never, will never admit that pervading aching need to anyone, neither wind, nor sky, nor surf. Or maybe especially, never to herself.
Abandonment had made her stronger, or so she seemed sure until the freedom she had placed above her love was taken, too. Ha, love. It was just like a finicky human emotion to have its not-so-divine retribution, was it not? She should have known the day would come. She should have known that Jones would be the one to rend what was left of her.
The years since had been spent with desperate attempts to fill the gap one owned by the liberty she craved. A futile search, she knew, but it was enough to satiate the emptiness for the time being. Enough in a very loose sense of the word, that is. Truth be told, every year there had been another lover. And none had been enough.
Then there came Sparrow, and a cunning scruff of a bird he was at that. A man untamable as the sea that once was hers. A man who gave her just a taste of what she once had been. She heard the silent promises singing like blood through his veins, felt the destinies entwined with his like spray from the sea, sparks from a flame on her face. This man she would keep, and has kept on a leash, one just so long and just so short enough to let him follow where his fate will lead him, and come trotting back to her with her freedom in tow.
But even if he can return her liberty, her goddess-life, Jack Sparrow cannot bring her back her love. No power, no goddess could ever bring him to her like before.
And so she casts his fortunes with the tides, watching as the winds and waves take him where they will. A futile hope, she knows. A lost cause. A love she should've killed so long ago.
She doesn't care. She'll search for him until her sea runs dry.
Until she knows if Davy's heart will always beat for her.
A/N: Well, this baby marks my first attempt at any kind of PotC fanfic. I've been enamored with Calypso and Davy since AWE confirmed my suspicions about their dual musical lockets, and would really love to hear if I kept her IC. Thank you for reading, m'dears!