Disclaimer: I don't own anything associated with PoTC (except for the JD poster on the back of my closet door)

The king and his men
stole the queen from her bed
and bound her in her Bones.
The seas be ours
and by the powers
where we will we'll roam.

The moon was high above the cool, dark seas as the sea goddess Calypso stood at the opening of her dwelling listening to her world. What reached her ears were the seas swirling and lapping, the scuttle of creatures eating and breeding and dying beneath its blue blanket, the creaking of boats as men traveling across her plains. But then, like a pin-hole of light trickling down from the surface, she heard it. It grew like the swell of a wave, rushing faster and faster towards her, a howling of agony, of despair, of utter wretchedness. Tonight was their ten year anniversary and she was far from the lush green island. Far from the pink shores where she had sworn an oath to meet her lover.

She smiled to herself as she turned away and floated back inside. He should have known, she thought.

He had waited on the beach all night and all day. Now, as the sun dropped down to kiss the swell of the waves, he knew he had been betrayed.

In the quiet of his cabin he picked up the dagger. A gift of gratitude from a lady traveling to the other side, carved on its hilt was a heart.

As the sweet song from her locket trilled in his head, Jones plunged the knife into the flesh and removed his pulsing, beating, organ. He held it in his hand, the blood spilling onto the floorboards gleaming red and silver in the moonlight, and he waited. Blue eyes closed, he took a deep sobbing breath. The heart beat on. Was he not dead? And he remembered the curse, her blessing.

He placed it in a small chest and locked it away from the world. And then, Davy Jones, Captain of the Flying Dutchman, flung back his head and cried to the heavens above.

Was it years that had passed or only a few days?

Calypso, Calypso, Calypso…

At first she thought it was a dream, his voice calling her name over and over again. She whispered a command that quieted her oceans, her creatures, her weathers, and stood still to listen. No, it was indeed his voice, pleading, calling, enticing her to approach, to forgive him, to love him once again.

And so, she went to him, looming as thunder, lighting, wind, and the rush of water. She took the form that he had known her best. Her brown toes stepped from the ocean and sunk into the cool, clumpy sands. The long corded hair twined like snakes and her chocolate eyes winked in the moonlight.

The voice was the same, but the body had been horribly disfigured. Tentacles dripped from his once noble face. A claw replaced one arm, tentacles another, and barnacles clung to the rotting peg leg.

He has neglected his duties, she thought, and she smiled sweetly at this monster in her pass up the dune.

Calypso, he whispered.

My love…

And then they were circling her, lights appearing from nowhere, chanting the ancient words. The trinkets glowed and she fell to the sands, burning and writhing with pain.

We bind you in your bones.

Only her father knew the old curses, how did they discover the ceremony? Her addled brain called out his name. The Dutchman would have access to the secrets of the deep. Her strangled voice whispered it.

She felt the winds leave her. The swirling and movement she could no longer hear. She tried to pull them close but her world was dark. She opened her eyes.

He wadded from the tide pool and back into the ocean, not looking again at the form stretched out on the sand behind him.

The men picked up their trinkets and walked back up the beach. Soon the light from their torches faded from sight and she was left, Calypso goddess of the sea, utterly alone on the pink shores of his island.

AN: I was thinking of trying to turn this into something more than a one-shot, perhaps picking up with the end of the storm AWE. Encouragement, anyone?