Hello! This is my first -serious- PotC fanfic (AKA, not like the other one I did that was just a silly thing for me and my friends), so I hope you like it!

I actually wrote the first half two years ago and just now found it and finished it up...that said, updates may not be super fast, but I will try my hardest to get them out! Alright, let's go!

EDIT: Okay, so I want to finish writing this, but...I have no reviews, no harsh crits, nothing :P I don't want to write this is no one's going to read. So, um, please comments XD

It was another long, hot night in Tortuga. The air seemed thick and heavy, and it dulled everyone's steps and mind. Everything seemed to be moving slower than usual; there was an unnatural weight on everyone's head. It was as if Tortuga's spice and flavor had been drained.

The spice would be the gents, of course. Pirates, most of them, though there were the daring sailors who came in to port; mostly young giddy men looking for a quick release under the docks with the cheapest whore they could get. Every night the streets and pubs would be full of men in all sort of dress, in all states of sobriety or lack thereof. They were divided in to two groups - those who knew what they were doing, and those who didn't. The latter were all young foolish men who thought they were a legend just because they had stolen a few jewels. They would take the first woman they saw without thought, approached those who they should not approach. Some of them would learn from their ways and go on to be in the first group, but a lot of them were satisfied thinking that the life of a pirate was all fun and games. The former, those who knew what they were doing, were the pirates you heard of in stories, the ones nannies told their charges to run like hell if they saw.

Where were they nowadays? The flavor of Tortuga - the ladies - wondered. If they could be called ladies, that is. They resembled them, yes, they had the same parts and all, but that was where the resemblance stopped. They weren't all bad, though, don't get that idea. They were one of the main reasons Tortuga is what it is.

Or was what it was.

It wasn't just Tortuga that was feeling dry and slow. It was everywhere, and the East India Trading Company was to blame. Their name seemed to be cropping up in every conversation, being blamed for a stopped operation, hanging of a mate, a sunken ship, the slowing up of Tortuga.

And though Hector Barbossa was not a man to place blame on something that could very well be his own fault, he was very eager to blame the Company for the past year of hell he'd had to endure.

Barbossa, Captain Barbossa, was one of those pirates in the stories. He seemed to have done everything a man could want to do - pilfering, raiding, capturing, et cetera - yet was not as old as many of his fellow legends, though he was not young either. It was rumored that he was some sort of lord, though he stole the title. His arrivals in Tortuga always meant good business - he'd sit at a table in the back of some pub, talking to the elder pirates, though never bragging. Shortly after he would seek out a wench and then pay her double. His crew would tell tales to some of the younger pirates and the girls, amazing and sometimes even scaring them with their journeys, showing off gold and jewels that they earned, then spending it as soon as they saw a pretty face and a large bosom.

But that was, of course, before the Company interfered. Around a year ago, he had lost most everything when the Company had sunk his prized and revered ship, the Malachite. The gold they had just obtained and a good part of his crew were now at the bottom of the sea along with his ship. But that did not stop his will. Barbossa knew that being lost over the ship would get him nowhere, so he got a new, better ship, the Lapis, and mustered up what he could find of his crew, and set off again. Yet not a month after, the Company had found him again, taking even more of his crew and his pride. And it continued for months, four more fine ships were sent to the depths under his command. When he returned to Tortuga not two hours ago on a small boat, all by his lonesome save for his Boatswain and a few sailors, he did not go to the table in the back (the elders were not there anyway), but he sat at a small table out of the way of the others. It was not out of shame, no. He needed a bit of time to reminisce - something he did not particularly enjoy, but memories from his past kept popping into his mind every time he looked at something, anything. For example, when he stepped foot on Tortuga's beaches, he was oddly reminded of a whore he had slept with some ten years ago. It wasn't even on those beaches, yet as he looked down he could see her form (her face wasn't anything to be remembered) writhing and moaning under him, saying his name over and over until it sounded foreign - "'Ec-tah, 'Ec-tah!" He finished off what was in the mug in front of him, wondering why he was thinking of that night; it wasn't anything special. Most of the memories that popped up weren't anything special. He smiled grimly to himself - maybe this was one of those moments that he had heard the elders speaking of, where you knew it was time to quit while you're ahead and keep your past safe. That was depressing as hell, he thought as he got one of the girls working to get him more rum.

His blue eyes scanned the room, there were only about twenty or so people in the place. It didn't seem right, he thought, being this empty, no one getting in fights over a young lass's virginity or something of similar insignificance. There were only two wenches there, both sitting at a table with four younger men, all very pleased at the fact that they were anywhere near them. There was an older man with only one leg sitting at the bar, two nervous sailors sitting rigidly in the center of the room, a woman in white sitting in the back…and ah, here comes another of those lovely reminisces.

This one, however, had some importance. It was of the first ship he had ever sailed upon, before he turned pirate, and the only woman he could say he loved, though now he was sure it was just a youthful lust, him being not but seventeen and all. Her name was Meridian and she had disguised herself as a boy in order to escape a marriage she did not want. At first they were just friends, but he had to distance himself when some of the other boys called him a flit for being so close. Then one day he accidentally stumbled upon her undressing and saw the binding across her chest and her lack of a lower appendage. They began some sort of relationship, as much as they could have while still keeping up her guise. Barbossa had committed his first act of piracy with her - he nicked a pair of identical necklaces with large silver serpent pendants adorning them, the very same one he still wore to the day. He had given the other one to her, making some youthful promise to always love her and to become a great pirate or something like that. Of course, the necklace was not a reflection of the first part of the promise, no, he had long since realized that while he might have loved her then, he was now and forever in love with the sea and the freedom and adventure it brought forth. Pirates falling in love with another was one of the foolish thoughts the young men on the island liked to believe.

Slowly reemerging from his thoughts he tried to remember exactly what it was that made him think of Meridian. Ah, yes, the woman in white sitting in the corner. She looked like Meridian enough, he supposed, but like the young girl he knew, not the woman she was now, if she had even lived this long. She couldn't be older then eighteen, but even that was pushing it for she was quite short. Her coat was a dirtied white, her skirt, boots, and vest white, even her hair which hung in thick dreadlock-like clumps had powder in it to make it white. Barbossa had no idea why women did that, but it was quite popular in France.

Thinking of France, he wondered if she was that pirate the younger men liked to talk about lately, some calling her "Le belle immortelle," others preferring "La petite fille sans pitié." They would say how they had been saved by her a few years ago, then saved again not too long ago only to find that she had not aged at all. Barbossa smirked into his empty mug, a hero among pirates? And one who had found the secret to immortality? If that was her, then he wouldn't mind talking to her.

He rose from his seat and made his way to where she sat. As her features grew clearer, he wondered if maybe it was better that his memories were in better relation to their triggers, for this girl did look like Meridian. Quite like her. In fact, as he reached her and watched as she raised her head to look at him, he thought he must have been seventeen again, for the girl was no mere resemblance, it was her!

"Meridian?" He asked, astounded. She stared for a minute before smiling a wolfish grin.

"Aye, Hector, aye. Was waitin' to see if ye'd pay me visit, looks like I gots lucky." Her voice, her speech, it was her. Barbossa returned her stare before smiling as well and laughing in an equally wolfish way, his booming voice causing others to jump and glance about. He took the seat opposite her.

"And what would Miss Meridian Darcy be doin' in Tortuga just as she was years ago?" He inquired as he received another mug of rum.

"Pirates, they come here, don't they Cap'pin?" She said with an ironic tone. "I can leave if I'm a bother, though 's not nice, seein' as it's not your place an' all."

"Aye, 's not me place to say, Missy." He agreed.

"I knew ye wouldn't." She smirked. "Ye came to me, not 'cause of us bein' old friends and all, though I see yer still wearin' that necklace - never took ye for a sen'imen'al man - but because ye wants to know why I'm still pretty."

Barbossa laughed again, sitting with her seemed to take the years away.

"But that's pirates for you." She finished, taking a small sip of what was in front of her.

"Then you're the one they call "immortal little girl without mercy," aye? Yet seems ye have plenty of mercy, savin' all these lads." He said.

"They've made another name for me? Fancy that." She brushed back some loose hair. "Nay, I wish I didn' be savin' all those kiddies, but I look at them screamin' for help, and, and," Meridian looked for the right word, "Methinks it be one of those women-things that I save them, something I'd be willin' to get rid of."

"Yer avoidin' me first question, Missy." Barbossa stated.

"Am I? Huh. The immortal part? Aye, that's me as well." She leaned back in her seat. "Women, we all want to be pretty forever."

"Ye look just like ye did when I left, found immortality that quick, did ye?"

"I'm surprised that yer in the dark about it…lord of the Caspian seas, is it?" She inquired. Barbossa merely raised an eyebrow. Meridian continued, "Anyway, aye, after we left the Chronicle, I set off a bit to the west, ye know, all that new land and all. An' I met this incredible little man, used to be a, a priest or cleric or somethin' religious like that, but he had to run away 'cause of some fires or somethin', so told me how he had gone along with some es'plorers, searchin' for some holy cup what makes you immortal, but instead, they foun' some little hole in the ground, filled with water that seemed to come from nowhere, an' the men drank from it, 'cause they were parched." She leaned forward again, lacing her fingers like one would when they were telling a ghost story to naïve children. "But when they gots back, an' they looked in a mirror, they saw that their hair an' their beard hadn't grown at all. For five years, none of their hairs grew an' none of them aged, an' they realized that they had discovered a fountain of youth. Heard of that, haven't you?"

"Aye, that I have." He said, somewhat skeptical. "I've also heard that it only appears to those who have real need of it, so how is it that you found it?"

"Well," She continued, "As soon as he finished the story, I told him I wanted to see this fountain. An' he told me the very same thing, an' how he'd led hundreds of men to the very spot, but since they only wanted it for immortality, it wasn't anywhere to be foun'. But I told him that I wanted to go anyways, so we started walking along in a pretty dense wood. An' then all of a sudden, this snake comes out and bites the man! I killed it, but the man didn't seem so good, 'cause it was one of those poison snakes. So I was lookin' around for somethin' to help get the poison out before it could kill him - the fountain, it only keeps you at your age, it can't protect you from wounds and illness and the like - an' then I see this hole in front of me with only a bit of water inside. It was the fountain, an' there was so little water in it that it seemed to be tellin' me that I could do the right thing an' save the man, or have no mercy an' condemn meself to Hell an' take it for meself. An' seein' as we had just made a promise to become great pirates an' all, I took it for meself." Meridian smiled again, quite satisfied of her own tale.

"A fine story." Barbossa nodded. "Though somehow I don't think the fountain would be appearing to me anytime soon."

"There's supposed to be a map that could lead ye there, regardless." Meridian said. "One of the other Pirate Lords has it, I believe. 'S why I was surprised ye hadn't gotten it already."

"Sao Feng or Mistress Ching, no doubt." He said, thinking about all the legends he had heard from that part of the earth.

"Fret not, though!" She said clapping her hands together softly. "There's other ways to live forever."

"And have ye got those as well?" He said sardonically.

"No, but you have yer immortal soul!" She replied in equal irony. "Study up in the bible, then yer all set? Is that how it goes? I'm not really sure. Anyways, last night, there was this kiddy here, looked right drunk but seemed to know enough what he was doing, has a ship anyways…and from what I hear that's better than you, nowadays." She stopped as he gave her a dark look. "Ah, sorry. So this kiddy, he was talking about some great Aztec treasure on some island that can't be foun' unless ye already know where it is and he had someone who knew where it is. So that interested me enough and we started to talkin', 'cept he was gettin' pretty drunk, an' then he started talkin' about somethin' about the gods, somethin' about eternity…an' he was slurrin' quite a bit, but from what I could make out, if ye take the gold from the chest, ye can't die!"

That got Barbossa's interest.

"An' he was sure about that?"

"Nay, actually." She laughed. "Seemed rather…aporetic about it. So I went an' asked a few others about it, those witch-voodoo types seem to know all those legends, and they said that they'd heard of it as well! It be on an island called Isla de Muerta, I think."

"And ye can't die?" He asked.

"Better than what I've got, mate." She nodded.

Barbossa leaned back and reflected on the thought. "So where can one find this lad?"

Meridian averted her eyes for a moment. "In, er, my room." She said quietly. After seeing his look, she quickly continued, "I mean, it's not like that, last night he followed me up there and he was so bloomin' drunk that he started to cry when I told him to leave, an' that woman-thing in the back of my head made me let him stay! So he was there when I woke up, an' I haven't seen him come down or anythin' so…" She stopped and crossed her arms over her chest as Barbossa smirked again. "Do you want to see him or not?"

"Aye, sorry Missy." He said getting up. Meridian led him up the stairs and into one of the filthy rooms, but there was no one in there.

"That's troubling." She remarked to herself. She led him then to the window where she pointed out a very fine ship with black sails. "His ship, the Pearl somethin'-or-other. I'm sure he'll be settin' out soon."

"And which one be yours?" He asked. She pointed out another ship, one that had definitely seen years at sea.

"The Undergoing." She told him. "So I answered all yer questions, aye? Answer me one as well." She turned to face him. "I never took you as a man to pine, so why, after all these years, do ye still wear that pendant?"

"It be the first thing I ever stole, ye remember that, aye?" He said, hoping that would end her questions.

Meridian laughed. There was an odd spark in her eye, one Barbossa recognized from seeing enough women staring at their men from a distance. He didn't like it.

"Aye, sure." She smiled, waving a hand dismissively.

"Look, Missy," He advanced, "I didn't come up here to rekindle that which was finished."

"Good. Ye'd be a fool if ye did." She said simply, surprising him. "If that be how I came off, I apologize."

Barbossa fingered the pendant in question. It felt unnaturally cold against his skin.

"It used to give me good luck, it did." He told her. "An' as ye heard, I haven't had much of that lately."

"Oh, really?" Meridian touched something under her clothes, right above her chest. She tugged at one of the thick chains around her neck and out from her blouse pulled out an identical pendant. "Maybe you…need to rub it a bit."

"Rub it?" He echoed.

"Aye…like a woman." Meridian smiled.

"I'm not one for rubbing too many of me wenches." He laughed.

"Well no wonder ye pay them double!" She joked.

"I'll not have a child insulting me techniques." He said with a bit of scoff in his voice.

"I am just as old as you are, Cap'pin Barbossa, an' don't forget it." Came the quick reply. "An' I didn't mean no insult. I…I'm sure all the whores love you." She looked up at him with youthful eyes and grinned.

"That'll be enough of that." He remarked. But Meridian went on.

"When you make port, I'm sure all the whores, they say, "Oh, it be the Cap'pin, he's so lovely, I hope he chooses me!" An' they start talkin' about the last time they were with ye-"

Barbossa grabbed her roughly by the arm, still wearing the wolf's grin.

"An' if it not be my place to ask ye to leave, then how be it yer place to discuss me pleasures?"

She thought for a moment. "The first two years I knew ye?" Meridian offered. Ah, yes, he had forgotten that his first experiences had been with her. "I say these things purely from that experience, honest. Mean, if I was whore, I would say those things, I suppose. 'S not fake confidence at all!" She used her free arm to pat him lightly and mockingly.

"So what yer saying is yer around the same level of a whore." He nodded, releasing her arm only slightly. It was like the mock fights they used to get in so many years ago. Barbossa was sure that if he looked into a mirror he'd see himself as he was as a lad. This feeling was quite welcome.

"Well, no, I'm a cap'pin, too." She said, not taking any offense. Rather, she was smiling quite broadly.

"Then yer the dread pirate captain of the whores."

"Dread? I've yet to be called "dread." But nay, I don't be askin' for gold or anythin.' So I s'pose I'm worse than a whore."

"Indeed." Barbossa said in a low voice. When they were young, their arguments would take a different turn at this point. One of them would look deeply into the other eyes and smirk while saying endless false vows about love and the like, the other sinking in every word. After that they would usually find the nearest empty room and awkwardly go through the motions of what a man and women do together. But they were no longer young, no matter how much Meridian's body wanted to appear as such.

But then again, old habits do die hard.

Barbossa soon found himself over her and fumbling with the annoying multitude of laces and hooks that held her clothes together as their lips crashed together almost violently. There was no love involved, only the desperation and carnal longing that came with the dryness and the emptiness of Tortuga.

Captain Barbossa ran his scarred hands along the railing of the Black Pearl. Nothing. He knew what he should be feeling. He knew that there was smoothness that came from hard work and careful maintaining, minus the scratches there, and there, and there. But nothing. He had finally lost all of the feeling in his hands, probably in his whole body. He looked at the torn and tattered sails, dancing in the wind. He could not feel this. He could not feel a thing. It took six years for this day to come. He almost shed a tear.

The world was a bleak place, and he had to tear it apart, for the salvation of him and his crew.

"Captain Barbossa!" Ragetti exclaimed, running animatedly to the helm, where Barbossa stood. His voice was much too eager for a time such as solemn as this and the captain had the urge to rip the other man's throat out. Not that it would do any good. "We've spotted the island through the fog, we're almost there!"

Barbossa took out his own spyglass from his great blue coat and peered into the distance. There was indeed an island in the near distance, lush and green. Oddly colorful. The older man snapped the spyglass shut and began shouting orders to his crew, insulting them and threatening them. This was nothing new, and he even doubted that any of the crew took any of it to heart anymore. They were all working towards the same goal and were all equally desperate to the end of their journey.

As the Pearl grew closer to the unsuspecting island, the crew began preparing the longboats. There was only a small village on this island, and they had only gone in the first place because of the rare fruits that the island bore. They would not need the cannons to get what they needed. Barbossa scoffed at the thought that they had spent Aztec gold on fruit. Such a frivolous thing, and gone in an instant, too. If they knew what was to happen once the gold was gone...

"Ten pieces of gold be on this island!" Barbossa shouted to his crew as they began to lower the smaller boats. "Tear this place apart until you find them, you filthy ingrates!"

He supposed that they shouted back with cries of "aye sir!" but honestly the man wasn't paying much attention. Their situation had gone from a minor annoyance to a major annoyance, then to a top priority, and today, when he could no longer feel the wood of his beloved Pearl, their situation felt hopeless. He wanted to stab something, but the one thing he really wanted to stab he had left stranded on an island to die.

They were cursed. Seven years ago, an old friend told him of the treasure of Cortez, which would grant him eternal life, and a man who could lead him there. It took them about a year, but not only had he taken the man's ship and crew for his own, but they had found the glittering treasure.

And it indeed give them eternal life. They could not die no matter how much they wanted. No matter how disfigured, how starved, how devoid of every pleasure and necessity a mortal man needed, they could not die. It was hell. It was all a cruel trick.

The woman, the vile woman, who had told him of the man and the treasure had left out the part of the curse. He often wondered if she knew of it or truly didn't. But she too was immortal, or so she was if she had not found herself on the wrong end of a sword. Whilst looking for the remaining pieces of gold, Barbossa also made sure to keep an eye open for her ship. If he ever saw her again, he would surely force her to take him and his crew to her source of immortal life. And then, probably, he would kill her.

There was creaking behind him, amongst the shouts and screams from the island. One longboat had returned, and it seemed from the sound of the footsteps on the wood it was Pintel and Ragetti...and another pair footsteps indicated there was someone else, someone very lightweight. He turned to see the two men escorting a young girl who couldn't be any older then eight. Her hair was wild and a light brown, and her blue eyes were sunken in and gaunt. She wore only a thin white nightdress. But what was most odd was not the fact that the two men had brought the young girl aboard the ship, but that she did not look scared, even though the town she had just come from was being utterly destroyed.

"Um." Ragetti said, not quite sure how to begin. Next to him, Pintel seemed to be looking another direction.

"Gents," Barbossa said, not sure what to make of the situation. "Be this a coin?"

"Well, no sir." Ragetti said. "It's a girl."

"Yes, I see that." Barbossa said, smirking dryly and turning his head. "And tell me, why is there a girl aboard my ship when there should only be men and gold?"

"She said parlay!" Pintel scowled. He then paused, then said, "And, well, she..."

"This is the Black Pearl." The girl said suddenly. Barbossa frowned, the girl's voice dod not waver, though it did sound like she hadn't used it in quite a while. "Not the Undergoing."

"The Undergoing?" Barbossa repeated. Her ship. What did she have to do with this?

"They were holding her hostage!" Ragetti said. "As leverage for when some pirate comes back!"

Barbossa looked from the girl, looking intently back at him, to the two men standing behind her, to the town in the distance disappearing in flames. He sighed, what an annoyance. "What be yer name, girl?"

"Serena." She said. "That's what they call me anyways."

"Right." The captain nodded. "Come with me, girl, we're havin' a talk."

She should have said no or tried to run away, but no, she confidently followed him into the captain's quarters. Something was not right here.

He waited until the doors were shut and she was sitting opposite from him at the small table. She looked here and there at the many items he had gathered, the books and the scarves and the jewels. But still, she was not scared. No, she looked like she was quite comfortable, swinging her thin legs back and forth. He stood up and paced back and forth a bit before turning to her and asking, "Why does a child like you know about 'parlay,' and why do ye know of the Pearl and the Undergoing?"

"I was told to say it if pirates every attacked here." She shrugged. "I don't know what it means, but I was told I would stay alive if I did." The small girl wasn't a bit bothered by the harshness of the man's voice as she kept swinging her head this was and that, looking at all the things in the room.

"Me men said that the people of this island be holdin' ye hostage?" Barbossa asked.

"For when the Undergoing comes back!" Serena said, a smile on her her face. "That's when I get to see me mum again!"

As soon as she said that, Barbossa could swear he regained a bit of feeling back, as it was as if what was left of his black heart sank. "Yer mum." He repeated. Today seemed to be the day for all bad things to happen. He stopped his pacing and stepped forward suddenly, grabbing the girl roughly by her bony shoulders. He almost felt a bit of satisfaction as she finally looked alarmed. "Yer mum, what's her name?"

"La petite fille sans pitié?" Serena said in a quiet voice, her accent perfect. She continued to stare into Barbossa's eyes carefully, making very sure not to move an inch.

Barbossa on the other hand was shaking, though he wasn't sure what he was shaking with. Anger? No, no, he soon realized that he was laughing. It had been so long since he had truly laughed that it was foreign to him. He released the girl roughly and had to grasp at the table for support.

He had the perfect leverage. It would only be a matter of time before she came looking for the lass and he could make her take him and his crew to her source of immortality. Finally, their luck was turning around. He turned back to Serena, who still sat in the chair but was holding on to the arms so tightly that knuckles where white.

"Welcome aboard the Black Pearl, missy!" Barbossa exclaimed. He grabbed some port from the cabinet and took a good swig. It was faint, but he could still taste it a bit. It was a wonderful taste.