Story Notes: This is an AU, since it takes very little consideration of the next two POTC movies. The concept was inspired by a Bethesda game called Pirates Of The Carribean, and it's more of an attempt to connect the particular game with the movie (since it's non-existent but for the mention of the Black Pearl).

You might also notice that, as the story progresses, my writing style will change. This is because I started the story way back when the first POTC came out, and I finally decided to finish it this year (after a couple of friends of mine gave me the proverbial kick in the butt I needed to actually start working on it again ^_^; ). Let's see if I'll make it.

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Quiet reigned in the streets of the typical English colony of Oxbay on that warm summer night, in the year of our Lord 1630. In fact, the only ones that could be seen were the soldiers patrolling, for the rest of the citizens were either at their homes, or at the local tavern, enjoying a good ale or rum.

However, that night in particular was extremely bustling, for the tavern-keeper had said that all the drinks, just this once, would be on the house. This, of course, was quite appreciated by all the customers, who were drinking now to their hearts' content. After all, everyone had a reason to celebrate, for till three weeks ago they were under French occupation, living in fear for their very lives. It was thanks to a single ship that had escaped when the French squadron attacked four months ago, that Redmond Island – the neighbouring colony – and its governor, Sir Robert Christopher Silehard, were warned and so took action. Victory, the escapee ship, and its captain, proved most valuable for that purpose, causing enough damage to the enemy and giving the chance to the English to claim back what was theirs successfully. The people of Oxbay were aware of that, so their celebration was also made in honour of the young captain, Nathaniel Hawk, who was now among them, enjoying his own ale with his boatswain, Rys Mace, amid cheers and praises.

It was difficult at first sight to imagine that the thirty-year-old man that was sitting now in the centre of the party was actually in charge of an entire ship. After all, Nathaniel Hawk didn't have the suntan colour that a regular seaman, with some years of sailing at least, had. Moreover, the small beard and moustache that decorated his handsome features was neatly trimmed, just like his jet-black hair, which, though fairly long, wasn't tied in ribbon as it was accustomed in those days.

On the other hand, his clothing was of good quality, if not rich and heavily adorned. In fact, the only things of some value that could be discerned were a small bronze cross, which hang from Nathaniel's neck and sparkled a bit under the tavern lights, and a bronze ring, circling his right ring finger. Furthermore, Hawk's grey eyes reflected the fiery and untamed soul that the man had, while his squall and quad-barrel pistol that were attached to his belt showed to everyone that he wasn't someone to be trifled with. Still, he proved gracious and patient enough to let all these people surround him and tell them once more of his adventures.

Yet, Hawk soon grew weary of all the uproar and his head was starting to ache him, something that didn't escape Rys's attention. In fact, when the boatswain noticed his captain's blood draining from his cheeks, he signalled to the tavern-keeper's daughter, who quickly told her father what was amiss.

Everard Gordon understood, so he clapped his hands to get everybody's attention.

"All right, people, it's closing time! You all know that our hero has to sail for other seas tomorrow morning and he needs all the strength he can get. So everyone who can still walk, take those who can't and go!"

Despite several moans of disappointment that were heard here and there, the celebrators arose and went stumbling and singing outside. As soon as the tavern was empty, Gordon turned to his daughter and asked her to fetch some water and a piece of cloth. As for Mace, he was already offering his hand for support, though Nathaniel himself wouldn't have it.

"I'm fine, Rys, really," he insisted, "I simply felt light-headed, that's all."

"With all due respect, Captain," said Mace, his expression showing his concern, "We both know that you're still recovering from the jungle fever you got."

"He's right, lad," seconded Gordon. "That doctor you carry on your ship, Voisey, said that you shouldn't exert yourself yet. I'm sorry that I didn't help matters," he added guiltily, his mind drifting to the party of people that yelled and shouted.

Nathaniel smiled kindly.

"You have a tavern to keep, Gordon, just as I have to run a ship," he said, then turned to Rys, assuming his commanding demeanour once more. "Mr. Mace, please go to Victory and see that the repairs in the hull and her sails have been taken care of. Those French ships hit her too roughly."

"Should I tell Mr. Voisey to prepare something strengthening for you, sir?" asked Rys as he arose.

"If I say no, will you obey?" Nathaniel asked, a sly smile appearing on his face.

"You want a frank answer to that, sir?"

Hawk laughed a bit at this. He understood perfectly well that Rys would obey, but only with a very heavy heart. The captain knew that the boatswain was very loyal to him; he had been ever since they met and became friends three years ago.

"Fine then, go tell him," he finally said with a mocking grudge. "And tell the crew that I'll be on Victory shortly."

"Aye, sir." And with that, Rys went out. At that moment, Gordon's daughter came with the water basin.

"Go inside and clean the kitchen, Mildred. I'll stay and talk with the captain for a while."

The fair woman nodded slightly and obeyed her father. Nathaniel took the wet piece of cloth and placed it on his forehead, sighing slightly at the coolness he felt. Everard sat beside him.

"Are you feeling any better?"

"Yes, thank you," answered Hawk, smiling reassuringly.

Gordon, however, was still worried.

"You can rest at the room upstairs for as long as you want. Do you really have to leave tomorrow?"

"The governor of Isla Muelle needs my services the soonest possible, I'm sorry to say," answered Nathaniel, shaking his head. "Besides, two other people, my navigator and first mate, are already too anxious to sail there and I can't deprive them of their wish."

Gordon actually raised an eyebrow at this.

"I understand Lucas wanting to see his father, Admiral Da Saldanha. What about Joaquin? He's from Malta and without family, if I'm not mistaken," he noted.

"He wants to go to the cathedral there and pray, maybe even get Cardinal Domingo's blessing, if he can."

"Really? I wouldn't think of him as a religious man."

"You'd be surprised," said Hawk with a smile, omitting the fact that his first mate, Joaquin De Masse, was in fact a Maltese Knight, ready to fight under the Catholic Church's service and now helping out on Victory.

"And Governor Silehard? He doesn't mind that you'll serve the Spanish Colony?"

"I think that, at this point, he could watch me sail to hell and still not mind at all," scoffed the captain.

"What makes you say that?" asked Gordon, surprised.

"You are aware that my last mission was to free the English officers of Oxbay that were held in the town of Greenford? And take them safely to Redmond Island?"

"Yes, indeed. Voisey told me, while you were recovering upstairs and he wanted a drink or two for himself. He also said that it was when you had to lead them officers across the jungle to get them to your ship that you got your fever. You had to stay in your quarters, leaving Joaquin to take over command of the vessel. And the good doctor feared more than once that you wouldn't pull through; yet for the whole time that you were ill, he had hardly left your side."

"Artois is a good man," commented Nathaniel. "Still, even though he managed to help me, he couldn't do anything for the officer that had got ill along with me. The old man was already too weak from the hardship he went through in prison and the fever proved deadly in his case. That didn't make Silehard a happy man, more so because he was the one officer he wanted the most to survive."

"I see. So he actually sends you away?"

"Not really. He didn't express himself in words or actions, but everything in him cried out that he was displeased, if you catch my drift. So when the Spanish governor suggested I'd sail some merchandise for him for the next few months, I took the offer. Hopefully, Silehard will have forgotten the affair by then and I can come back without fear for my head."

"Must you always run away?" asked Gordon, looking intently at Hawk's eyes.

That comment actually made Nathaniel freeze, then slowly place the cloth down.

"What do you know?"

"All that Artois told me."

"Who found out by whom?"

"You. You were delirious in your fever," explained the tavern-keeper. "Your secret is safe with me and your doctor, you know. We both came to understand a name doesn't make the man."

"It can turn his life into misery though," said Nathaniel quietly, his face creased to a frown and his hand turning into a fist in his frustration. "I didn't work hard all these years to watch everything ruined now, not like this. I have to leave."

"It's your life, lad," sighed Gordon, "I was only wondering if anything else could be done."

"If there was, I would have already gone for that option," said Nathaniel, rising heavily and stretching his back. "It's high time I should go. Thank you for the hospitality, Gordon. Here's for your ale."

"I don't want anything, lad. Not from the man who helped the whole island of Oxbay," protested Everard.

"At least take this then," insisted Nathaniel, taking out a heavy pouch and putting it on the table.

"What's that?" asked Gordon, not really understanding.

"Do you remember that French captain whom you helped me get drunk to tease out the information I needed for the English captives' whereabouts? It's my reward for the risk you took."

The tavern-keeper took a glimpse inside the pouch and looked up in utter surprise.

"There are at least three thousand gold pieces here!"

"Three thousand exactly, to be precise. With the rest you can pay off the debt you owe at the town's loanshark, since the deadline ends tomorrow."

"But how did you know about that?!" asked Everard in wonder.

"I have my resources," answered Hawk cryptically, opening the door. "Goodnight, Gordon." And with no other word, the man stepped out into the darkness of the night, without hearing the blessing that Everard whispered in gratitude.

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Hawk was ready to quicken his pace to find the harbourmaster and arrange all the necessary papers to depart when, going around the tavern, he saw Gordon's daughter, sweeping the doorstep.

"Hello, Mildred. It's good that I see you now, since I wanted to say my farewell to you as well."

"And farewell to you too, Nathaniel Hawk. I wish you fair weather for your journey. You will return from time to time, won't you?"

"I surely hope so," said the young captain. However, it was obvious that there was something else troubling the lass. "What is it?"

"Where is Rys?" she faltered, averting her eyes from Hawk's gaze.

Nathaniel smiled. He knew of the loving feelings that she and his boatswain shared. In fact, it was through Rys that he had found out about the tavern keeper's predicament and decided to help out.

"He has already gone aboard."

"Oh," Mildred said, blushing a bit. Even though she knew of the captain as a good man, it was clear she still felt shy toward him when she had to speak of such matters. However, she plucked up courage again. "Well, perhaps by the time you return, you could teach him some manners."

"What's he done?" asked Nathaniel, startled.

"Nothing I've caught him at, but…" and at that the girl lowered her voice, "he's thought to be one of those pranksters that keep ringing the town's warning bell. If there's any real danger, the soldiers might ignore it, thinking it's a child's prank."

Oddly enough, that made Hawk rather uncomfortable.

"I'm sure Rys would never do that," he said, kicking an invisible stone of the street in his nervousness. For it was in fact the captain himself that kept ringing the bell, as a sign to Rys whenever the latter wanted to meet Gordon's daughter without coming across her father: the bell was close to the tavern and the stones he threw at it from the room he was resting always met their target.

"Perhaps," replied Melissa. "Well, return as often as you can," she concluded, misinterpreting Hawk's nervousness for hastiness, and walked back inside.

Nathaniel watched the lass go and then set off again. He had almost reached the port, when a woman's voice stopped him.

"Hello, Nathaniel."

Hawk immediately stopped on his tracks and saw the stunning redhead woman that greeted him through an open door.

"Hello, Angelica."

Angelica was the beauty of Oxbay and she always fascinated the captain. Of course, it was impossible for one not to be drawn to her, for her captivating green depths could make every man's heart melt. However, she seemed to prefer Hawk the best, for he was the only one to treat her with respect, unlike her other customers who enjoyed her charms. He wouldn't call love what they both felt though, despite the fact that he wished sometimes it was. True, they shared some pleasurable, intimate moments from time to time, but it was simply their way of escaping, even for a little while, from the lonely life they both led.

Angelica had hurried toward him, only to stop a few steps away from him.

"I heard that you're leaving tomorrow for Isla Muelle. Is it true?"

"Yes," said Nathaniel stiffly. He cared for Angelica enough not to want to hurt her with news about his departure, so he cursed himself for having to admit such a thing. So there was no love; but she was still the person who had got closer to his heart in a long time.

The red-haired beauty bowed her head at this, and closed the gap between them meekly. She was obviously having the same sentiments.

"You're practically going to the other end of the world," she murmured sadly.

Seeing the pale face marred with tears, Hawk extended his arm to caress her cheek.

"Just to the other end of the Archipelago," he corrected softly, giving her a small smile. Before he could help himself, he had already wrapped his arms around her, offering her a soothing embrace. "I will return," he added reassuringly.

"I'll still miss you terribly. You've always been kind to me and I can never forget that."

"And even if you could, I wouldn't let you!" joked Hawk mildly in an attempt to cheer her up, something that worked for a few moments. Soon they had both grown serious again and remained for some time still in a tight embrace. But, Nathaniel felt now the urgency to leave, knowing that he had stalled long enough.

"Goodbye, Nathaniel," she said, releasing him, understanding what was on his mind.

"Goodbye, Angelica."

And with a gentle kiss on her forehead, he hurried off again. He was ready to turn around the corner, when a cry of help made him turn back, for it was Angelica's. Unsheathing his sword, he ran and came across a most appalling scene: four soldiers had now surrounded the frightened woman, while one of them had grabbed her from her shoulders, shaking her violently.

"Unhand her, gentlemen, or I'll let this do the talking!" shouted Hawk, drawing his pistol at them. The fact that he was aiming at the governor's men wouldn't stop him from shooting if he thought it necessary.

The soldiers quickly turned around, but they were hardly unnerved. Their commander actually laughed and stepped out of the shadows, his sword at hand. Hawk immediately recognised him as Charles Thornton, Silehard's errand boy and a man the captain despised with all his heart.

"Well, well, what do you know… Just when we were to ask the lady here whether she'd seen you or not," said Thornton with a smirk. "Come with us to Redmond quietly, and she'll be released."

"What's this all about?" demanded Nathaniel. "I have to sail for Isla Muelle the soonest possible!"

"Sir Robert Silehard wants to speak with you. And don't worry about your ship, it will just follow us and remain to Redmond port until you answer all the governor's questions."

Hawk stood still for a few moments, his mind in turmoil. What did the governor want now? His work was done surely.

"You don't keep a governor waiting!" said the commander with unhidden annoyance.

Hawk's eyes sparked angrily. He wasn't going to let a man like Charles Thornton speak to him like he was some commoner! He didn't belong to the British navy, but he was still a captain, after all! And there was another thing bothering him in all this: if the soldiers' intentions were honourable, they wouldn't have resorted to blackmail to ensure his co-operation in the first place. Yes, there was something definitely wrong. And now he had to save Angelica from the redcoats' clutches!

Finally making up his mind, he took a deep breath, and fired at the very soldier who held the woman. His aim didn't err, and the soldier let her go, writhing with the pain that coursed through his shoulder.

"RUN!!!" screamed Nathaniel at Angelica, firing again at another soldier as he was trying to grab her. "Tell my men to sail away! Hurry!" And with that, he lunged himself at the soldiers, giving her the chance to escape. But, even though Hawk fought bravely, more redcoats came, drawn by the commotion. What was worse, he was getting tired fast, his body still not fully recovered from the fever he had suffered. And so, while he got distracted with parrying Thornton's attacks, another of his attackers managed a blow on his head, rendering him unconscious.

"That was foolish, Hawk. Then again, you were never all that bright," said the commander to the senseless form, wishing to have the last word. "Let's take him to our ship, gentlemen."