I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean. Fic takes place after the fourth movie.

The sounds of waves crashing on the beach were constant in Nassau. Dawn hardly paid them any attention as she walked by the ocean, sketch book in hand.

In the days since the Bindings, Dawn had made her immortal way across the world on her own; choosing not to stick with the other gods. Most of those sought protection from Zeus, though what protection he could offer was a mystery to Dawn. She established herself as a painter where ever she went. It was something she was good at, and she made a fair bit of money at it.

The only thing she never painted was a sunset. It hurt too much.

She should be painting a commission for a well-to-do woman who wanted to add a 'touch of civility to this pirate ridden, God-awful place.' The picture was of a ship on the sea.

Dawn had tried not to wince when her customer had used the singular God. Everyone did these days, but even after thousands of years it was still rather offensive.

The thin woman found a pretty violet flower and kneeled on the sand in front of it. After tucking a strand of her strawberry blonde, wavy hair behind her ear, she began to sketch.

She had needed to be outside, to stretch her legs. The painting was near completion anyway. It'd be done when the woman wanted it. She just couldn't stand her stuffy little room anymore in that dark, dank, mildew-smelling inn. And the innkeeper's wife kept nagging her. The simple woman hadn't liked Dawn's ideas of going outside without a hat or a parasol. "Ye'll darken that pretty pale skin of yers," she'd said.

Dawn couldn't tan, though. Her Seeming of a thin, pale woman with pale blue eyes and pale red hair was what she was Bound to. It couldn't change. Prisons weren't flexible.

After getting several angles of her violet flower, she continued on. Though she walked along the more respectable places of Nassau for the better part of an hour, she couldn't find anything else she wanted to sketch or paint.

She sighed and turned around, going back to the small inn she rented a room in. She wasn't ready to return yet, but there was nothing else she could do. Dawn walked into the inn and was immediately accosted by the innkeeper.

"Miss Olympus!" the large, balding man said in his sharp voice. "A visitor to see ye." He pointed to a table in the corner. "Says he's yer cousin."

Dawn looked over to the man in the corner. He was of average height and had the look of a fast runner. His hair was wavy and the color of sand, just long enough so that it fell in his eyes. Dawn's eyes widened when she saw him.

"Hermes?" she asked, rushing over. "Why are you here? Usually, when the family has to talk to me, they write or send Iris."

Hermes didn't answer for a moment, but instead took a drink of whatever was in the tankard in front of him. "I hate sea voyages," he finally said.

Dawn sighed. "You always have."

"Well, I hate them more now that they're longer. Why do you have to live so bloody far away from the rest of us?" he asked, griping.

"Because," Dawn replied, not offering anything more specific. She didn't want to be another one of Zeus's wards. She hadn't lived with him during the glory days, and she won't live with him now.

But that explanation would offend every one of her relatives, especially the most powerful one. She kept her reasons to herself.

"Well, we're coming closer to you. Zeus has been offered the position of Governor of Port Royal, and he's decided to take it. Everyone's heading to that port, and I mean everyone. I've been sent here to ask you to do the same," Hermes explained.

Dawn snorted. "I refuse."

"I knew you would," Hermes said, smiling wryly. "Thanks for that, darling. Now Aphrodite owes me money."

"She always has hope for me, doesn't she?" Dawn asked, smiling slightly. Aphrodite was always hoping Dawn would see the light and become a "proper lady," as in get married and dress fashionably. Dawn never wore dresses. Instead she wore a skirt with only one layer and a white shirt. Sometimes she wore a vest if it was chilly or a bandana around her head if her waist-length hair was being stupid.

"You can't blame her, can you?" Hermes said. "Old habits die hard."

Dawn sighed and looked toward the east. "I know."

Hermes looked down into his tankard. "We all know."

"Is there anything else you wanted to discuss?" Dawn asked, if only to distract herself from her miseries.

"Zeus would like to commission a painting." As Hermes said it, pain showed in his eyes. Dawn's questions as to what caused it were answered when he continued. "He wants it to be of Olympus."

Olympus has been his home. It had been home to most of the gods, except for Dawn and a few others, including her best friend, the sea nymph Calypso. Those that had lived there all missed it with the same searing pain that Dawn felt for painting the sunrise.

She did not miss Olympus as they did, so it was easy for her to paint it. "I'll do it."

"Yes," Hermes said, looking into his tankard again, "but can you?"

"Yes. When does he want it?" Dawn said, confidently. It would be difficult, but she could do it.

"In six weeks time. You are to present it to him personally." Hermes told her, looking up from his tankard and into her sky blue eyes.

"Fat bloody chance," Dawn murmured.

"You will do this, Dawn. You must. I know you must, you know you must, so don't try to get out of it. Resistance against authority was never where you ruled anyway. I don't understand you."

Dawn shrugged. "You don't have to. Is that all?"

"I think so."

"Well, it bloody well better be. I have quite a few commissions you know," she said, getting up. "Good day."

Hermes merely nodded and stood. He paid for his drink and walked out, muttering about how much he hated sea voyages.

Belatedly, Dawn remembered to check her jewelry. She found her ear drops were missing. She ran outside but her cousin was long gone.

"Bloody hell," she said, cursing herself for not remembering that Hermes was the god of thieves.