Part 1

"Sail ho!"

Liron looked up from her charts and left her cabin. "Colours?"

"None; seaweed sails."

She frowned a little. "Drop anchor."

"Drop anchor, aye!"

A few crew members scurried to follow the order. Liron turned to her first mate.

"Nikolas, should I not return, you are captain."

"Liron?"

"Remember three years ago when we almost sunk?"

Nikolas frowned. "Aye, I remember."

"Good."

Liron handed him her piece of eight; a silver charm in the shape of a snowflake. "Just in case."

He took them. "Aye, Captain."

She smiled, then descended the steps to the main deck as the other ship drew beside them. A gangplank was set up between them, and Liron crossed over to the Flying Dutchman on light feet.

"Captain Ruskin, welcome aboard."

"Thank you, Captain Turner."

Captain Turner was not smiling, and in fact looked as if he had been crying fairly recently.

"I have come to accept your offer."

Ah…right…of course. A good thing she had already warned Nikolas, then, and told him enough that he could explain to her crew. Liron nodded. "Very well."

Captain Turner turned and led her into his cabin, where the chest awaited, silent. Liron drew in a silent breath. That was a pretty chest, for all that its contents were not. A dagger lay beside it.

Captain Turner took a key from a cord 'round his neck and opened the chest. Liron resisted the urge to bite her lip.

"Is there some…particular manner it must be done?"

"No, and I would rather you get it over with as quickly as possible."

She nodded and picked up the dagger. "Your wife is waiting for you on the other side, then?"

"Else I would not have accepted your offer. I am done with this."

"What of your children?"

"They already know and did not object. Do not tell me you are going back on your word." His voice took a slightly dangerous edge that she did not heed.

"Going back on my word is not something that I do, Captain Turner."

The dagger came down, proving her point.

21 years before.

"Daddy, daddy!"

Hector looked up at the sound of the little boy's voice and that of little feet running down the planks of the dock. The boy ran into him, wrapping his arms round his legs.

"Whoa there, don't run too fast, youngin'."

He smiled and petted the boy's head. The boy looked up, blue eyes shining.

"Look what I found!"

The boy stepped back and held out his hand.

"Whatcha have there?"

He opened his hand, revealing a small, dull-toned gecko. "I caught it by meself!"

Hector smiled. "Did ya now? Well, aren't you just a clever one?" He ruffled the boy's hair. "How have you been, James?"

James looked up and shrugged a shoulder. "I'm okay."

Hector frowned a little. "And how's your mum?"

James just drooped his head a tiny bit. Hector's frown deepened. He sighed and kissed James' hair.

"Why do you always keep leaving? Why can't you ever stay?"

Hector sighed a little. "I can't."

"Why?"

"Because I'm a sailor and sailors have to leave for different reasons."

"But why?"

Hector petted James' hair. "Because sailors have responsibilities and need to help other sailors. And if I didn't have a job, we wouldn't be able to eat or have a home?"

"Does that mean mommy's a sailor too?"

Hector frowned again. "No, she's not a sailor…she has a different kind of job."

James' head tilted in confusion. "What kind of job?"

"I'll tell you some other time."

"Why?"

Hector sighed. "It's not something one talks about with little ones such as yourself."

James pouted. "But you will soon."

Hector smiled, which in turn made James smile.

"Shall we go see if dinner is ready?"

James nodded and held onto his father's hand as they headed up from the dock to James' mother's house, Hector's hat on James' head.

"Ya know son, you'll make a great captain one day."

Twelve years passed, and James' mom went back to her old ways, forgetting about James, so he decided to find his father. The first place he tried was Tortuga.

He grabbed his satchel and held it close, then headed into the town.

Almost instantly a woman approached him. "Hello handsome…anything I can do for ya?"

"Um…" He looked her over.

Quite shorter than he, though he was tall for his age, and a few years older than him, maybe eighteen or nineteen, and very pretty. "Yeah do you know a pirate that has kinda a big hat, scraggly beard, tall, and wears a black overcoat?"

The woman frowned a little in thought.

"It's fine if you don't. He's my father, and I've been trying to find him for some time now."

"He must have been quite the looker, then, if he beget someone as handsome as you."

He smiled, cheeks tinting red as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Erm…thanks… Do you know where he might be most likely?"

"No, but I know a good place for you to rest for the night…" She flaunted a little.

James blinked. "I…I don't know if that's a good idea, I should really try to find my father."

"You sure?"

"Well…" he said, unsure, as a fight started nearby.

"You'll enjoy it."

James rubbed the back of his neck again. "I really want to find my father. I mean, no offence to you or anything, you're really pretty. But I'd like to find my father first."

The woman pouted. "Alright."

"But if I don't find him, maybe you can hold the place you were thinking of for the night for me. I am a bit tired. What place will you be at?"

She gave him a description.

James nodded. "See ya later then." He smiled and headed off toward a likely tavern.

"See ya handsome…and I hope to see a lot more of you when I do."

James entered the tavern and asked around, but no luck. Nor did he have any luck with the next one, or the one after that.

But finally, late in the day, at a tavern called the Mermaid's Song, he found a man who seemed to have seen his father.

"Where do you think I can find him?"

"Tis said he sails on the Queen Anne's Revenge, taken as payment for the limb he lost when Blackbeard attacked the ship he had before."

James' brows furrowed in shock and confusion. "Not the Blackbeard…"

The grizzled-looking man across from him nodded. "Yes, the Blackbeard."

James leaned in. "What happened?"

"Now, I'm not sure of the full tale, but three years ago, Blackbeard sailed for the Fountain of Youth…"

As the story went on, James' eyes widened and widened, and he was on the edge of his seat. When the old man finished talking, he had to ask.

"Do you know where I can find him?"

"I'm sorry, lad, I didn't hear where he was headed, but the bartender might have."

James looked over, then back at the old man. "Thank you."

He walked to the counter. "Excuse me, do you know where I might find Captain Barbossa?"

The bartender looked up. "Barbossa?"

James nodded. "Supposedly sails the Queen Anne's Revenge now."

"Aye, he does. What reason have ye for finding him?"

"I just…want to be a part of the crew."

The bartender frowned a little, then shrugged. "I heard he was heading for St. Lucia."

"St. Lucia? When did you hear this?"

"The Queen Anne's Revenge docked here a few weeks ago, and left not long after that."

James frowned. "Oh. Thanks anyways."

The bartender nodded.

James finished his drink, then headed to the place that the woman from earlier described to him. He went in, and was instantly approached by a few women in low-cut dresses and heavy makeup, but he ignored them in favour of looking for the woman from earlier. He waved when he saw her, and she waved back. He walked over as she stood.

"Hello again, handsome."

He smiled. "Hey."

She sauntered closer, her tone dropping a little. "Come to take me up on my offer?"

"Sure. Found out my father already left, so I need a place to stay for the night anyway."

Her finger came up and traced down his cheek slowly. His smile faded to a look up surprise, and his head moved away from her touch on instinct.

The woman frowned. "Something wrong, handsome?"

"N-no…just surprised…sorry." His cheeks turned a shade redder.

The woman's frown turned to a smile. "Is this your first time, handsome?"

"Being this close to a woman, yeah."

She chuckled softly. "You have no idea what I was talking about earlier, do you?"

His brows furrowed a little. "I think so…"

She waited for him to figure it out, and when he did, his eyes widened. The low-cut dresses, the general atmosphere…

"Oh."

The woman in front of him smiled wryly at his expression.

He swallowed hard, his face reddening further. "I…I've never been…"

"Do you want to?"

He bit his lip. "I hate to be rude…I dunno…"

She waited.

"Maybe? How about…we just head up to the room and we'll see?"

She smiled. "Fine with me."

He smiled back a little, and she offered a hand. After some hesitation, he took it, and she led him up the stairs. A few women winked at him, a few eyes roaming over him and making his cheeks redden.

The woman took him to a room and closed the door, then removed his coat and hat before he could. Her hand ran through his hair, and he shivered. Her hands ran over his shoulders, then one moved up to stroke his cheek. He blushed a bit, and she smiled.

James cleared his throat and sat on the bed to take off his shoes, but the woman stopped him and took his hands. He looked up at her as she put his hands on her waist. James tensed.

"Hey. It's okay."

He tried to relax, then when she ran her hands through his hair, his eyes closed on instinct, a soft growl rumbling from his chest. She did it again, and he shivered and growled a little louder. The rustling of skirts signalled her moving closer. His eyes opened as she stepped between his legs, her hands trailing down to the collar of his shirt, then one rose to cup his chin.

James looked up at her as she leaned in a little. Her lips met his lightly, and a ripple of surprise coursed through him at the feeling. He tried to kiss back, though he had no idea what he was doing. She kept the kiss light, letting him figure out what he was doing. Eventually he got the hang of it and his hands tangled loosely in her hair. She smiled against his lips and moved closer.

James fell backward, his back hitting the bed. His heart began to race, and he started to question his decision as he looked up at her. Her hands ran through his hair again, and he blushed, growling slightly.

She smiled and kissed him again. He pushed her back slightly.

"No, I-I shouldn't…we shouldn't."

"Why not, handsome?"

He couldn't think of a good answer. "C-cause I don't think I know what I'm doing."

"Everyone has a first time, handsome."

James swallowed a large lump in his throat. The woman sat up, somehow straddling him now. James jolted when she sat on a particular spot, and he tried to wriggle away.

"No!"

She paused.

"Please."

She got off of him, and James sat up, straightening his shirt.

"I'm really sorry, miss."

She nodded a little.

James stood and put his hat and coat back on, then pulled out his purse and counted out a pretty large amount.

"Here." He put it in her hand. "Take this. Again, I'm sorry, but I'm just not ready to that yet."

She pushed it back at him. "No payment required for lack of service done."

"No, take it. I feel awful."

She smiled at him. "It's alright."

He closed her hand around the money, and she looked at their hands. James let go.

She put her hand down. "Very well."

He kissed her cheek, then left.

Outside, it had begun to rain. He pulled his coat tighter around himself and headed back to his dinghy.

Liron had been captain of the Dutchman for about a year when she started to notice something odd about her hair. Eventually some of the crew noticed.

"Captain."

She turned. "Yes?"

"Your…hair…"

She pulled some of her braids over her shoulder, only to make a face, her accent thickening a bit in her confusion. "I have tentacles in my hair…why do I have tentacles in my hair?" She looked up. "Does anyone else have any oddly aquatic qualities, or is it just me?"

They all looked at each other, then back at her. "No."

Liron frowned. "Hmm…"

The first mate appeared at her side. "Captain…"

She turned. "Aye?"

"How long have you been captain of this vessel?"

"About a year."

"And we have done everything that Captain Turner said."

"Aye."

He put a hand on his chin in thought. "I don't know what is causing this, but…I do know of someone who might."

"Who?"

"She's a woman of…peculiarities, but she has helped people before in return for payment. She is the one who gave the Dutchman to its first captain."

Liron's brows furrowed in thought. "Calypso."

He nodded.

"Do you know how we would summon her?"

"Nay, but I know of one who may."

"Who?"

"Captain Teague, Keeper of the Pirate Code. But he is difficult to find."

"Is there an easier option?"

"Captain Barbossa. He was the one to set her free."

She nodded once. "We will check Tortuga first, if we can manage it while still doing our duty."

"And if he isn't there?"

"We look somewhere else."

Nine years before

James continued to sail, rowing or sleeping when he could, and using his compass to the best of his ability…but it was so dark…then he looked up to the sky and saw what looked almost to be a trail of stars heading northeast.

"If you ever need to find me, follow the stars."

"How can stars help in finding you, father?"

His father smiled. "You'll see."

James adjusted his heading.

Eventually he came upon a huge ship. He rowed closer and lifted his lantern, trying to see.

Queen Anne's Revenge

James grinned and rowed along the side. "Ahoy there!"

A head appeared over the rail. "Ahoy!"

"Is a Captain Barbossa aboard?!"

"Aye! What business have ye with him?!"

"I'm his son!"

The head disappeared, and faintly he heard several voices talking among themselves. Eventually a rope was dropped down to him. He took it and tied it to his dinghy before climbing up. A skinny man with an eyepatch helped him over the rail, and once he was on deck, he looked around in faint wonder. It was the most…richly furnished ship he had ever seen.

He looked at the men. "So…Can I go see him?"

They shifted. "He…doesn't like being disturbed."

Eyepatch man thought for a bit. "But I think he'd make an exception for you…if you're really 'is son and all."

James frowned a little at that. "Where are his quarters?"

Eyepatch and a shorter, bald man nearby pointed their thumbs toward a balcony near the stern of the ship.

"Thanks."

James strode over and up the stairs, before stopping just in front of the doors, all these 'what ifs' floating into his mind. He shook them away. He'd come this far, he wasn't going to give up now. He opened the doors and walked in, and was greeted by a loud voice.

"What business have ye disturbin' me?!"

James' brows furrowed. "Father?"

The man in the chair stood and turned, and James' heart skipped a beat. He'd found him…and he looked…weird in that wig.

His father frowned. "…James…?"

James started down the stairs as his father moved to the front of the desk, and eventually they were face-to-face. Well that angle was unexpected.

"James?"

"Yeah…"

His father kept frowning, and James' brows furrowed again.

"Aren't you happy to see me?"

"How do I know it's actually you?"

Now it was James' turn to frown. "Don't you recognise your own son?"

"What was your mother's name?"

"Helen."

His father paused.

"Father, it's me, James…don't you remember me?"

He put his sword away. "Aye, I remember ye, I wanted to make sure ye wern' someone else tryin' ta fool me."

James hugged him, and he hugged back tightly.

"Why didn't you say goodbye?"

His father sighed. "I'm sorry, James."

He looked up at him. "Why?"

"For leaving so suddenly."

"But…why didn't you tell me? Did you and mother have another argument?"

"She thought it wasn't right for me to take you from the land and teach you some things about the sea."

James frowned. "She doesn't seem to care."

"She seemed to when she was shouting my ear off about it."

They both stepped back, James releasing a soft sigh.

"So…this is your ship?"

His father nodded. "It is."

He looked around. "It's very…red."

His father chuckled. "Aye, that it be."

"Did you mean it? That would wanted to teach me about the sea?"

A nod. "I wanted to take you with me when I left, but...your mother decided to be a harpy about it."

"Well, you got me now." James smiled. "Can I stay?"

"Of course!"

James' smile brightened as his father smiled back crookedly.

As the years went by, sixteen-year-old James followed his father's footsteps in everything he did. He was taught the rules and dangers and freedoms of the sea. He was told of the stories of his father and other pirates he sailed with and the battles he had been in. And he was taught how to be a pirate. How to pillage and plunder and run a ship and how to fight and sail. By the time he was twenty-five, he knew all his father and father's crew could teach him, and took on the position of first mate once the previous one died in battle when James was twenty-three.

He was the one to first sight the ship drawing near to them.

"Father! Look! The Flying Dutchman!"

His father's head snapped toward him. "Where?"

James handed him the spyglass and pointed. "Just a few knots from us."

He looked, then frowned. "That's not Captain Turner."

"What? Who is it?"

"I don't know."

James took the glass once his father lowered it and looked for himself, only to put it down again. "Is that…Davy Jones?"

"Nay, Jones is dead; has been for decades. That must be Captain Turner's successor."

Liron blinked a little as the Dutchman surfaced near the Queen Anne's Revenge, already unused to the brightness of the land of the living.

She steered the Dutchman closer. "Captain Barbossa, I wish to speak with you!"

The one-legged man that matched the description she had procured thumped down the stairs to the main deck. "What for?!"

"I have a question about Calypso!"

Barbossa froze for a moment, then spoke. "Alright, come aboard!"

A moment later, Liron was standing on the deck of the Revenge.

The young man at Barbossa's side drew his sword, pointing it right at her. She looked at him.

"I mean no harm, I assure you." She looked back ad Barbossa. "You were the one to release Calypso, yes?"

The young man relaxed a bit, but kept his sword trained on her.

Barbossa's face was unreadable. "Ne'er heard of the name, missy."

"Captain Barbossa, do not lie to me."

Barbossa looked her over. "What have ye business with me 'bout this 'Calypso'?"

"I want to know where to find her."

"Sorry, missy, can't help ya." He started to walk away.

Liron raised her voice. "Were you not the one to release her before the battle in which William Turner became Captain of the Dutchman?"

He turned back, shaking his head. "You're wastin' yer time."

"Captain, I've been doing my duty diligently, and yet I have become like this." She took off her hat, letting her intermixed braids and tentacles fall free, the latter writhing a little. "I want to know why, and as far as I know, Calypso is the only one who would know."

Barbossa frowned, then motioned her to follow. "Come with me."

Liron followed him to his cabin.

The young man closed the doors behind the three of them as Barbossa sat at his desk.

"So, you want to know why you're becoming a Miss Fish…correct?"

"Correct." Technically not a fish, but fair enough.

"And how, by chance, did you come to captain the Dutchman?"

"I offered several years ago, and when Captain Turner's wife died, he accepted my offer so he could join her."

Barbossa's head snapped straight. "Mrs. Turner died?"

Liron nodded. "Captain Turner found me almost immediately after he ferried the souls of her and some of her crew."

Barbossa frowned. "As a debt I never payed to Mrs. Turner, I will help you."

"Thank you, Captain."

"So you have followed everything?"

"Aye."

He thought a little. "I can't say why you are like this then. Have you talked to Captain Turner?"

"He's passed on already. I should not disturb him."

The young man spoke up. "If it's worth your life, wouldn't that be a good reason? I mean, he trusted you to take care of his ship, so it's obvious he cares about you."

She looked at him. "I do not wish to risk the consequences of waking the dead."

"Oh…I thought you mean he passed on, past that life…I didn't know he died."

"Dying is what normally happens to people when they are stabbed in the heart. That is how the succession works."

The young man frowned. "I didn't know…"

"Tis alright, young man. You meant no harm."

His eyes locked on hers for a moment, before looking away as Captain Barbossa spoke.

"I would help ya, missy, but I'm afraid I can't."

Liron nodded. "Do you know of any way to contact Calypso?"

His refusal was a little too quick, and she raised a brow, looking at him piercingly.

"Really?"

"No, I don't."

The young man frowned again. "Father…you have to help."

"No."

"But father, she needs help."

"No."

The young man…Barbossa's son…looked at Liron, his storm-blue eyes sad.

She set her jaw. "Very well. Thank you for your time, Captain Barbossa."

James watched her leave, then rounded on his father. "Why won't you help her? She'll end up like Jones."

"That's not my business."

James's frown deepened. "Do you really want a Davy Jones lookalike running around? And she must be living through hell right now."

His father stood. "I am staying out of this."

He sighed. "Please."

His father frowned. "Why do you want to help her so badly, James?"

"I think it's worth a try. How would you feel in her position?"

"I'm not helping…but I cannot stop ye either."

James smiled a little. "Then you'll help?"

His father sighed and nodded once.

"Thanks!" He ran after the woman. "Miss, wait!"

She turned as he slowed down once he was close enough.

"My father decided to help you."

"Did he now?"

He smiled a little. "Yes. I had to persuade him a bit."

"Mm. And why would you do that?"

Their eyes met.

"I thought you didn't deserve this."

"You know nothing of me, and yet you would do this."

"Because my father told me of Davy Jones when he was speaking of his adventures…and I get the feeling you don't want to end up like Jones."

She nodded a little.

"Name's James."

"Liron."

He smiled a little, and after a moment, she smiled back.