Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Disney characters and all that jazz. The characters that are not familiar are mine.
Summary: Ella Chamberlain has lived with piracy in her life since she was born. After seeing her mother brutally murdered right before her eyes, her father, Captain Evan Chamberlain of the pirate ship La Lune du Soleil, takes her in, teaching her the ropes of piracy. Later, she receives her father's pirate ship and a precious necklace as a birthday present. Some years later she goes on an adventure with the famous Captain Jack Sparrow to find herself, her mother's killer, and The Lost City of Atlantis.
A/N: Hello everyone and welcome to my lovely fan fiction. Yayyyy. It probably seems a little cliché, but please give it a chance. I'll try not to let you down. This is the first fan fiction that I've had enough courage to post on this website so please REVIEW! Even if you hate it, let me know what I can do to fix it! No flames though. Be encouraging. And remember: reading without reviewing is like stealing.
Prologue
Piracy has been a part of my life since the day that I was born, and it all started when my father met my mother.
My father was a good man even though most people thought otherwise because of his choice in profession. He became interested in piracy at a young age, and once he started he found that he could not stop his nasty habit of pillaging and plundering every port that his ship docked at. Unfortunately, he had two weaknesses that his enemies would explore numerous times, and they just so happened to be his daughter and wife.
Evan Chamberlain, my father, first had the pleasure of laying his sapphire eyes on my mother at a routine stop for supplies at a little port in Spain. He spotted her from the main deck of his majestic pirate ship, La Lune du Soleil, as his crew moved around him like worker ants readying the ship to dock. My mother stood gracefully behind a vendor's stand, selling all types of exotic fruit, trying to make a respectable living for herself. He stared at her slack jawed and called to his first mate and best friend, Winston Scott.
"She mus' be the most beautiful woman I've ever had the pleasure of layin' me eyes on," my father said in a dreamy sigh as he pushed his bleached brown hair from his sticky, sweat covered forehead.
"Aye tha' she is" Winston replied nodding in agreement as he admired her movements from afar.
"I think I'll talk ter her"
"All righ' cap'n, but don't get yer hopes up," Winston said as he looked up to his captain with an expression of uncertainty.
"Wha'? Why not? I'm handsome aren't I?" My father asked sliding his hands down his thin, muscled torso.
Winston rolled his eyes skyward and sighed in apparent annoyance.
"Of course ye are Cap'n, but by my eyes she looks a bit...high maintenance."
"High maintenance ye say?" my father's uncertainty seeped into his words as he raised an eyebrow.
"Aye Cap'n, high maintenance"
"I'm gonna talk ter her."
"Good luck Cap'n," Winston replied as he walked away to get back to his duties of supervising.
My father looked back towards the beautiful woman who had unknowingly caught his attention. He straightened his muscular, tan shoulders and took off at a jaunty speed down the newly lowered wooden gangplank. As he walked, he watched the attractive woman attentively as the light sea breeze blew her long chocolate brown tresses into knots. Her emerald orbs scanned her merchandise looking for imperfections among the delicate fruits that littered her rickety oak stand. Her exposed tanned shoulders gleamed brilliantly in the unforgiving brilliant yellow sun. As my father approached her cautiously, he could see that she was slightly taller than most women were. He stopped a few feet away and let out a breath he had not realized he had been holding in.
Alright Evan, he thought to himself, Ye can jus' say hullo.
My father put on his best brave face and marched up to her, dignity in each step.
The woman looked up from her fruits as he approached and threw a dazzling smile his way. My father sauntered up to the stand, picked up a lime green apple, and inspected it with a critical eye.
"Can I help you, sir?" she asked in a thick Spanish accent.
My father glanced up from the apple and noticed her looking at him with look of curiosity in her emerald orbs. After studying her face, he decided to come right out with what had been pulling at the corners of his mind ever since he first saw her onboard his ship.
"One day I'll marry ye an' take ye away from this place and show ye adventure," he said with conviction in his voice, a sparkle in his eye, and apple still in hand.
The Spanish woman chuckled lightly as she pushed a few strands of her locks gracefully out of her eyes.
"What makes you so sure I'd marry a pirate?" she asked as she eyed my father's rough and dirty appearance.
"Wot's yer name?" my father asked smoothly as he deliberately avoided the question.
"Lolita Sanchez" she said, smirking as she plucked the apple from my father's hands with lightening speed and set it back among the fruits.
"Well Miss Sanchez, I'm Cap'n Evan Chamberlain of the pirate ship La Lune du Soleil and I happen to be quite the charmer."
"Well Mr. Chamberlain-"
"Cap'n Chamberlain," my father corrected involuntarily.
"My mistake...Captain Chamberlain, what makes you think so sure you will be the one doing the charming?" she asked flirtatiously as she arched her eyebrows in amusement at my father's dumbstruck face.
For once my father found himself completely at a loss for words and taken aback. Regaining his composure, he cocked an eyebrow and looked at her curiously trying to read her face.
"Come," Lolita said as she folded down the flaps to her stand indicating that the it was now closed, "I'll buy you a drink and we'll talk."
"If ye insist," my father said as Lolita gently tugged his arm towards the local tavern.
Without realizing it my mother and father had both found someone that accentuated their extreme and moderate personality traits which made them two peas in a pod. They instantly fell madly, head over heels, in love with each other and were married six months later. The ceremony was quite simple and lovely, and held on the main deck of La Lune du Soleil which was decorated accordingly for the occasion with white rose bouquets that hung from all sorts of places. The only witnesses to this union were Captain Chamberlain's crew. After a short and sweet reception below deck, my father announced that he would be giving his crew four months of leave so he could travel the world with his new wife. My father learned new languages, experienced new cultures, and discovered new worlds during his travels. When it came time to come home, my mother was already three months pregnant. Six months later my mother gave birth to a beautiful baby girl which she named Ella.
Both of my parents knew, however, that a pirate ship was no place to raise a child, especially a female child. My mother made the hard decision to stay with me on land at a small, but busy port that my father visited frequently between jobs. I lived my life like any child growing up, playing with the village children that were my age, learning how to be a nuisance, and eventually making some friends. Our little white cottage stood on the edge of the little seaside town, overlooking the ocean, away from the hustle and bustle of the busy port where merchants would come and go, bartering their goods away.
Our family lived a happy and prosperous life which was always filled with a certain longing to see each other after being separated for weeks at a time. Everything was as normal as it could be, and while my father was at sea, I grew up into a hyper toddler. Unfortunately, all of that ended on a warm summer day.
The day that changed everything happened six years after my parents had married. The day started off as any other but a bit more beautiful than usual with the sun hanging low in sky, making everything its rays touched sticky and hot. Threatening looking storm clouds rolled into port later that day off of the horizon. I skipped merrily outside to play on the boulders that littered our big grassy front yard. I climbed around on them, like a mountain goat pretending to be a pirate. I danced around with my fake stick sword, swinging it at invisible enemies. Suddenly, the anxious voice of my mother wafted to my ears.
"Ella! Get down from there this instant, before you hurt yourself!"
I quickly jumped down from the top of my pile and landed with a soft thud in the grass. I knew not to challenge my mother's orders, and mumbled to myself about how unfair she could be.
"Mother I wanna play!" I whined towards the house trying to look disappointed.
"No! Come in the house now. A storm is coming." my mother motioned her head with a careless nod towards the blackening skies as a crack of thunder rippled through the air.
I groaned mentally and stalked off towards the front door of my house, dragging my feet reluctantly. Once I stepped across the threshold of the front door, rain already had began to pelt the window panes and roof with its sing song sound of pit-pattering. It began slowly at first than steadily grew faster like an upbeat dancing song that I heard from the taverns late at night. I ambled leisurely into the kitchen still feeling sour about being yelled at. My mother stood stiffly at the fireplace as she tended to a pot on the crackling orange fire. The aroma of a vegetable stew reached my nose and filled the small room from floor to ceiling, making my mouth water and stomach growl in yearning. My mother heard my traitor of a stomach, and she turned sharply around and started scolding me for the umpteenth time that day.
"Ella, your clothes are filthy! I just washed them yesterday! You know better than to climb on those rocks. You could fall to your death on those things."
"What else can I do? There's nothing to do in this town," I grumbled secretly wishing I was sailing the high seas with my father. Oh how I missed him.
"What about your little friend Tommy?"
"I don't like him anymore," I grumbled.
"Ella I want none of that now. Go wash up for dinner," my mother said without sympathy turning back to the mantle of the fireplace. I observed her with narrowed eyes as she reached for the ladle that sat peacefully in the simmering brown liquid.
I stomped away, feeling sorry for myself, to the wash basin in the next room. I roughly picked up the bar of soap that smelled of lavender and rubbed it viciously across my arms and face removing any trace of dirt that might have found its temporary home on my skin. I had just finished rinsing off when someone grabbed my shoulder and jerked me around roughly. I came face to face with my mother. Her face was twisted into a mask of fear, and a sense of foreboding surged over me and caused knots to form deep in my stomach. I cringed as they turned in sickly movements almost causing me heave.
"Ella I need you to hide just like we practiced, okay?" she said to me voice and hands shaking slightly.
"What's wrong?" I asked barely moving my lips, in fear that I might still vomit.
"Never mind that dear, just go!" my mother pleaded me with her eyes.
I gave a quick little nod and ran off with my mother right on my heels. I galloped to the trap door that was built to be hidden underneath my mother's bed for when my father needed to stash a few goods. I stopped moving when I came to the bedside. I looked back at my mother and could see the tension in her shoulders and the obvious stress on her face.
"It's okay Ella quickly into the cellar," my mother encouraged me from the door frame. She looked back towards the front of the house, seeming quite panicked as if someone were about to jump out of the shadows and grab her from behind.
"I don't understand. Why don't you just come in here with me?" I asked a tear had formed in the pit of my eye. I squeezed it back with all my might not wanting my mother to see me cry.
A melancholy smile formed on my mother's face as she swept towards me, her eyes glassy. She scooped me up into a hug and whispered into my ear.
"Don't worry Ella your father should be here soon. Don't open the door for anyone unless it's your father or myself. Do you understand?" my mother asked as she thrust some bread into my quivering hands.
This time I couldn't stop the tears from spilling over. I sniffled as small rivulets cascaded down my cheeks dripping brusquely off of my chin. My mother reached up with her smooth hands and gently brushed my tears away with her thumb.
"I understand."
"Good. Now quickly into the cellar. I love you Ella with all my heart," she said as my head disappeared beneath the floorboards. I glanced up one last time, tears still streaming down my face, she nodded encouragingly and then turned abruptly and tip toed away.
I lowered my body into the small hole and shut the trap door over my head and securely fit the sliding lock into place. In the dark, ominous cellar I had no one but myself for company. Every sound I heard and every emotion that I felt was intensified a hundred fold. I felt a wave of nausea crash down on my head as I slowly became aware to the fact that the walls seemed to be closing in on me. My breathing and heartbeat increased to a jagged, unsteady rythm. I closed my eyes, begging the walls to stop teasing me. I swallowed down the hard lump that had formed in my throat and opened my eyes slowly allowing them to adjust to the room that was black as pitch.
No sooner had my eyes adjusted, that sounds of a muffled verbal fight pierced my once silent surroundings. I strained my ears with all my might to listen to what was being said above. After I tried and failed to understand what was being said, I decided to see if I could catch a glimpse of the action that was unfolding dramatically right above my head. I stood on my tip toes and braced my knees against the hard dirt walls. I undid the lock with shaky hands and creaked open the trap door slightly and as silently as I could. I congratulated my mother mentally when I saw that she had not closed the door to her room, and I now had access to view the kitchen from my secret perspective.
The kitchen now held four sets of boots. One set I immediately recognized as my mother's, but the other three were unfamiliar to me. I couldn't take my eyes off of one set of boots that were menacing and beautiful at the same time like the sea itself. They were made of expensive, shiny, black leather that had been scuffed and scratched at the toes from too much use. The letters MR were stitched into the heel of each shoe with thread that was the color of pure sunshine. The boots started to pace around my mother like a predator that stalked its prey.
"-listen Mrs. Chamberlain," said a cold menacing male voice I didn't recognize, "I'm lookin' for Evan...Is he here?"
"No he's not," my mother's voice quivered, "And he's not supposed to make port here for a couple of more weeks."
The voice chuckled then suddenly turned into a loud growl. I gasped in surprise as the man picked up our dinner table with ease and slammed it against the far wall. The table fell into a pile of a million pieces on the kitchen floor and an eerie silence crept across the room.
The black boots had stopped pacing directly in front of my mother who stood her ground courageously.
"Tell me Mrs. Chamberlain...do ye think ye can lie ter me? Or do ye think I'm just an imbecile?"
"No Reynolds I don't think I can lie to you," my mother spat in the man's face.
He stood deathly still as swept his hand up and calmly wiped the sticky saliva from his dirty cheek.
"Now, now tha' was rude...didn't ye think tha' was rude Jeremy?"
"Yes cap'n," replied another crude man.
"I thought so," Agreed the voice of Reynolds," I'll let it go fer now, but I need ter know where Evan is, and be aware that my patience is growin' thin."
"I already told you I don't know," my mother responded coldly.
Reynolds cold grey eyes examined my mother's form closely, and spoke with all emotion erased from his voice. "Very well, but before I leave, tell me...how is little Ella doing?"
"You won't touch her," My mother said ferociously. Her emerald eyes growing wide as she took step forward.
"That depends, my good woman, on how loud you scream."
I closed my eyes tightly and clamped a hand over my mouth to stop myself from letting a scream escape. I braced myself for what I knew was coming. I heard the unsheathing of a sword. I heard as the sword twirled through the air. Suddenly, an agony filled scream ripped through the cottage as the sharpened steel pierced my mother's heart. The scream reverberated off the walls and sank down deep into my bones causing me to shake and tremble with a fear that I had never felt before. A calm and disturbing silence followed the offensive scream. I opened my eyes willing all of this to end and for my mother to be unscathed, but both I knew would be impossible. I gaped in horror as my mother's feet gave way to her weight, and she slumped limply to the floor. Her head lolled to one side as it hit the ground with a small thud. Her eyes locked with mine one last time and I saw fear and regret burned into her retinas as the fierce flame of her life slowly faded from her emerald orbs. A man kneeled down next to my fallen mother and declared her dead. I shut my eyes as another course of tears slipped out and ran their course down the length of my face.
"Cap'n Reynolds? Do ye wan' us ter look fer the girl? She would fetch a pretty large amount if we were ter hold her fer ransom," One of the men said.
"No Charlie, tha's quite all righ'," Reynolds sighed then chuckled maliciously, "That was a good scream. Besides we wan' to leave Cap'n Chamberlain with a bit of incentive to do wha' we wan' him to do."
"Aye, righ' ye are cap'n," said another voice.
"Return ter the ship with haste ye scabrous dogs!" Reynolds yelled, "Break out the rum. This calls fer a celebration."
The three men whooped and hollered as they ran out the front door. I waited in my hole until I heard the sound of the door clicking shut. I scrambled from my hole as fast as I could, forgetting that a bed sat on top of the door and managed to hit my head. Tears were crashed down my face like waves. I finally managed to pull myself out of the hole and sprinted to my mother's body and skidded to a halt by her head. I sank to my knees as a feeling of helplessness dropped on me like a ton of bricks. I wept as I cradled my mother's head in my lap. Abruptly, my head shot up frantically as the sound of hurried and heavy footsteps drew near from outside. I retreated to hiding behind the kitchen door just as the front door slammed open, rattling the window panes.
"Lolita," I heard the familiar voice of my father whisper, "Oh Lolita, I am so very sorry."
He reached down and caressed her pale cheek lovingly. He bowed his head as sobs racked his body as he began to shake violently. I observed from the shadows of the kitchen door
"Father?" I whispered meekly from my hiding place.
My father straightened up looking around trying to see into the shadows where I hid.
"Ella? Are ye there?"
I came out of my hiding place and threw my arms around my father's waist. I sobbed into his white cotton shirt. His hands snaked delicately around my neck and waist as he pulled me closer to him. We cried together well into the night and then after what was literally forever my father pulled away.
"Come now Ella, we need ter get back ter the ship. Go an' pack yer things quickly." he said sadly as he pushed me gently towards my room.
I ambled somberly into my room and packed the few belongings that I had into a canvas sack that I kept under my bed. I threw three changes of clothes into the sack and heaved it over my shoulder and walked back out to my father who had draped a sheet over my mother's lifeless body. My father looked up as I entered the room and smiled the best smile he could muster.
"Time ter go," he said wearily reaching for my hand. I slipped my small, fragile hand into my father's calloused ones. He led me through the kitchen and towards the front door.
"Now Ella be strong don' lo-look back," he stammered his voice breaking as another tear slithered out of his eye.
I walked out the door stumbling slightly over my own two feet and did what my father told me. I didn't look back.
The next morning I woke up in my father's soft down bed after a restless night of wading in and out of my frightful dreamland where Reynolds face floated relentlessly through the depths of my mind. I had gotten out of bed and had dressed when a knock rattled the Captain's quarter's door.
"Yes? Who is it?" I asked as I straightened my breeches.
"It's me Ella," said the gloomy voice of my father.
"Come in."
He opened the door and crossed the room in three strides. He pulled me into a bear hug.
"I guess there's some things we need ter talk abou'," My father sighed as he hung his head.
I nodded my head in agreement. "That man Reynolds, who is he? What did he want with mother? And what does he want with you?"
"That be Cap'n Malachi Reynolds, Cap'n of the pirate ship The Red Serpent. His piratin' methods are celebrated among the most evil of pirates tha' roam the Caribbean and Mediterranean sea. He murders and rapes woman and children without so much of a second thought.
"When I was a young and eager boy, I sailed with him on the ship The Crashing Wave as a deckhand. I guess ye could say he was somewhat of a mentor ter me especially since he happened ter be a couple o' years older. He tried to recruit me to his crew, but I refused saying that I wanted a crew of me own, and that was the last I saw of him until about 8 months after having married Lolita, and a month before ye were born.
"Rumors say that af'er havin' his own ship for awhile he began to change as his lust for treasure and glory planted a dark kernel in his heart He had obviously changed from the last time I saw him, but I ignored it and stupidly introduced Lolita to him. After ye were born, he blackmailed me into finding a lost map. He told me that if I didn't he would kill ye and yer mother.
"I found the map with much difficulty and after I handed the map over to him he promised that both of ye would be safe, but soon after he he promised not ter hurt ye or yer mother he realized that a key was needed to read the map. A key tha' I didn't have, and a key where I had no idea where to start lookin' for it. I received news from one of me informants at the Havana port that Reynolds was comin' after ye and yer mother. I got here as fas' as I could…obviously it wasn't fas' enough though," he finished his story with a mixture of hate, regret and sadness transfixed onto his face.
I sat silently now knowing what to say. I grabbed my father's hand and pulled him into another hug.
"Father," I whispered into his ear as I nuzzled into his neck, "What are we going to do now?"
"We are goin' ter run, and keep runnin'. I can't afford ter lose ye too," he muttered as he pulled away once again, "But fer now let's say goodbye ter yer mother."
My father raised me after my mother died and he brought me up the only way he knew how: as a pirate. I lived a life far better than any life that I could have had in an orphanage. My father taught me everything my mother didn't have the chance to teach me such as how to cook, sew, and sail. He also taught me how to read and write and to speak different languages. My father tried to keep me locked away from the dangers that came with a life out on the open sea, but once he realized that that would be impossible he taught me how to defend myself. He showed me how to use every type of weapon that he had been taught over the years. The crew, much to my father's dismay, also taught me how to be an expert pickpocket and thief. The ship slowly became my home and the crew my family.
I steadily grew up into a hormonal teenager and started flirting with boys at each port we stopped at (a shock my father still has not gotten over). By the time I became sixteen years old I had become a skilled swordsman and a stealthy thief. I often made comments to any crew member that would listen about how I was going to become the most famous pirate in the Caribbean.
On my eighteenth birthday I awoke with a start, my face and the small of my back drenched in a cold sweat. I dreamt of the night my mother had been murdered. I kept my eyes closed tight, trying to erase the laughing face of Reynolds from my mind. A fresh wave of hate washed over me as I yawned loudly and finally cracked my eyes open, breaking the thin layer of sleep that had formed during the night. Brilliant sunlight streamed in the small port hole of my cabin and hit me squarely in the face causing me to squint. I yawned loudly and stretched my stiff limbs. I leaped gracefully out of bed and pulled on a pair of forest green breeches and an off white cotton shirt. I picked up my black leather belt that had been strewn across a chair in the corner of my barracks and pulled the belt across my stomach, draping it low on my hips. I bent over and stuffed my feet into my dark brown, scuffed leather knee high boots. When I finished dressing, I armed myself accordingly. I strapped a small dagger onto my left boot, strung my cutlass sheath to my belt, and holstered two pistols. I tied my unruly curly brown hair into a ponytail with a shred of cloth that I kept tied around my wrist. I examined myself in the mirror that hung loosely on the wall. I smiled at my reflection, and my azure eyes smiled too.
"Today you're eighteen," I said aloud and a matter-of-factly trying to see if I changed dramatically in appearance during the night.
Satisfied that I had not changed in any way, I smoothed my shirt and walked out of my room and mounted the creaky oak stairs to the main deck. The crew bustled around working quickly and accurately as my father's voice shouted out new orders from the helm. Upon seeing me, Winston came over from his work station and embraced me in a rib breaking hug
"Happy birthday Ella! I can't believe yer eighteen," he said exasperated as he pulled away and held me at arms length to get a good look at me, "Ye are the spittin' image of yer mother. I can't believe how ol' ye and I are both gettin'."
"Yeah you're starting to look it too," I observed as I motioned towards his grey, thinning hair.
"Ouch tha' hurt ye know. A direct blow to me ego tha' was," he said in mock hurt, "kiddin' aside yer father would like ter see ye, but before ye go this is a present from me and the crew."
He pulled out a thin package and put it carefully into my hands. I smiled a small smile as I carefully opened the tiny lid off of the box and peered inside. Laying in the box was a nine inch steel dagger with a crescent moon and sun engraved into the wooden handle.
"Oh Winston it's beautiful. I love it," I said as I replaced the old dagger on my left boot with the glistening new one.
"Well I'm gla' ye like it. The crew was worried. Well I better get back to work before yer father has me guts fer garters."
"All right, thanks again Winston," I called to him as he staggered back to his post against the smooth waves that rocked the ship. He waved his hand lethargically in response, than quickly grabbed some ropes and started tying secure knots.
I made my way up the stairs that lead to the helm and to where my father stood guiding the ship. I smirked at my father as he caressed the wooden helm with love. His unruly brown hair blew around in a spastic frenzy, and his coat flapped violently around his shins. My father turned and waved at me as I approached.
"Good morning father, how's the sailing going? Smooth I hope," I greeted looking out to sea to inspect the cerulean waves.
"Aye, the ocean is at peace today. Great conditions for sailing, but I think we have more important business to attend to," he said looking at me with a twinkle in his eye.
I smiled a knowing smile as I put a finger to my chin, thinking.
"And what would that be father?"
He scoffed in mild amusement. "Why yer birthday present of course."
"Oh...well there is that," I replied picking the dirt from my nails.
He smiled as I watched him dig around eagerly into his worn navy blue coat pocket before withdrawing a worn piece of parchment and placing it neatly into my hands.
"Oh father a piece of paper...You shouldn't have!"
"Ella shu' up fer once an' jus' read the damn thing," my father replied as he placed his fingers to his temple.
I clamped my lips shut, the corners twitching, aching to release my suppressed grin as I unrolled the paper eagerly. My eyes scanned the parchment fiercely. I gaped at the words not believing them to be true. I read and re-read the words and they remained the same much to my surprise. My father had made me the owner and the new captain of La Lune du Soleil.
"Happy Birthday my sweet Ella," he said upon seeing my shocked expression. He pressed a chaste kiss to my check and turned back to the helm, humming an unfamiliar tune.
"Father? Are you sure about this? I mean you just made me Captain. Am I even ready to lead a whole crew of men? What are YOU going to do? And is the crew even going to except me as their new captain?" I asked feverishly eyes going wild.
My father chuckled deeply. "My dear gel, I am sure about this and ye are ready. I have taught ye e'erything I know about piracy. Plus I already spoke ter the crew and they are fine with the change. Besides I think it's time I explore the adventure of retirement."
I stared at him, my mouth gaping open in utter surprise.
"Oh my...you? Retiring? Is that even possible after living a life of nothing but adventure?"
"I believe I've had me share of adventures, and it's time I pass on the ship ter someone who still has their youth," my father said matter-of-factly scratching the side of his nose.
"I don't know if I'm ready for this," I gulped looking out to the busy crew.
"Of course ye are Ella. Just remember what I taught you."
"'The way to treasure is just beyond the horizon' how can I forget father? You practically drilled that phrase into my head."
"That's not all," my father said fiddling with something that hung around his neck.
"You have more advice to give me? Well father, aren't you in a generous mood this morning," I teased slapping his shoulder lightly.
"It must my old age...but that's beside the point, here," he said unlatching the necklace he had been fiddling with and clasped it around my neck.
I picked up the heavy charm and gasped. The necklace was the picture of perfection. The statuesque sun charm hung delicately on the silver chain and was made from pewter. A ruby the size of a large button sat in the center and glistened in the real sunlight. It was beautiful.
I dropped it tenderly, letting it fall to my chest, "Father where did you get this?"
"Oh ye know jus' something I picked up along the way. Be careful with it," he warned. I thought I caught a look of fear in my father's eyes as I ran my thumb over the delicious stone, but as soon as the look came, it vanished.
"What do you mean, father?" I asked raising an eyebrow suspiciously.
"Nuthin' just a valuable necklace is all," he sighed; "Now let's forget about that and celebrate yer birthday."
I smiled and threw my arms around his neck in a huge hug and whispered my thanks into his ear. He returned my hug lovingly, then stepped out of the way and offered me the helm.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed the extremely long prologue. I also hope that you stick with this story. It may seem a little boring now, but I promise it will get better if you give it a chance. Remember: Reviews are love.
