Chapter 1

My heart was torn asunder. When Davy Jones plunged that sword into Will's chest, he killed a part of me too – and as I held my dying love in my hands, I begged, pleaded, cried out for God to take me along with him. To put that knife in my heart that hurt worse than anything imaginable. My love . . my husband, so quickly given and so cruelly taken. I was so numb I barely realized what Jack was doing helping him stab Davy Jones' heart, and could barely protest when the ship began sinking beneath the ocean and Jack lifted me up with the make-shift balloon to fly back to the Pearl. All I know is that I felt my beloved's heart stop. And with it . . my own.

I can't breathe. I can't breathe, Jack! Stop trying to calm me down! Oh Will! Where are you? What will happen to you now? Will you remain my beloved, my true heart, my beautiful boy? I feel the warm Caribbean wind on my face and it cuts my skin, frosts my tears. I smell Jack's scent and hear his thunderous heart but I can't hear my husband's, I can't hear anything except the moment his heart stopped. Oh, I don't want to live! How will it feel if I just drop into the ocean – will my groom save me? Like he had saved me a dozen times over – from Barbossa, from Norrington, from Beckett, from Davy Jones? Please, save me again – one last time – and we shall be together. In life or in death – we belong together.

Suddenly, my feet touched land. We were back on the deck of the Black Pearl. It felt so strange, as if without Will I had no strength to either recognize or care where I was. The cold vacuum in the air has become the unwelcome bustle of the Pearl, the curious crew, the omnipresent Jack, all trying to "comfort" me. I try to seek out the farthest place on earth that I can go, slipping towards the stern and wrapping my arms around myself against the winds, enjoying the pain as it cut through my tears. Jack followed me, offering rum, offering a blanket, offering his shoulder to cry on. I refused all. Staring at the waters . . I wanted nothing more than to simply jump the ship, to find my way back to Will. You cannot take him from me. God or no God . . do you hear me????

Unfortunately, we appear still to be in midst of some war. With the English. Great. I truly do not feel like fighting. Call me pessimistic, but with 9 bloody pirate ships against a fleet of the best ships that the English treasury can buy; well, I do not need to go on, do I? We're doomed. Just like me and Will are doomed. A bloody perfect day today, I tell you.

Then, the most glorious sight I've ever laid my eyes on sprang from the ocean. The Flying Dutchman. With my boy at the helm!! With that long, menacing snarl, the phantom ship burst from the depths of hell, its sails taut against the wind and its sides heaving with water. And there, leaning against the railing surveying his domain, was its captain – my Will. Alive. Immortal, I believe the word is – but to me, alive, as alive as I've ever seen him. Oh God! What a sight! His brown curls hidden by a green bandanna, his beautiful eyes gazing confidently out at the water, his red shirt ripped half-way open to reveal a tan, muscular chest that snarled with an unspeakable menace to all challengers just like his ship – because what he had now was a scar the length and breadth of a long-sword, jagged in its ugliness, red and throbbing in its terror. His heart had been ripped out alive. And the scar, was only one indication of what it had felt like – what it could have possibly hurt like – nothing like this side of hell. For you, and I, both, Will.

My hand instinctively went to my heart. Is it beating again? I rush to the helm, needing to see him again, to never let him out of my sight. I gave a silent prayer to the Lord above. Our ships bore towards each other at full speed, cannons out. Will looked so majestic at the helm – so completely confident. He gave me the most endearing smile, and I drank in the full sight of him. There were so many things we needed to say, but the only signal we gave each other was that we were ready for war. With the strength and speed of the Flying Dutchman, we had the advantage. I was suddenly ready to face life again.

The other pirate ships looked to us in awe. Just moments before, we were in a full-out war with the Dutchman, and its fearsome captain, Davy Jones. When the ship went underwater – it was assumed that the Dutchman was defeated, and Jack and I barely able to escape. But now – look at us! The Pearl was intact. And the Dutchman – was as lethal as ever, with a new captain at its prow – a captain that was the paramour of the Pirate King herself. They had no idea the pain and the confrontations that had gone into this – all they knew was that the Pirate King had brought forth the demise of Davy Jones and the loyalty and allegiance of the new captain of the Dutchman – and with it, their utmost respect and admiration. They saw no longer a young woman who could fight and endure the rigors of the sea adequately. They saw a beautiful creature that could fight harder, scheme smarter, and command more powerful allegiances than they could ever have done. And for that, they will follow her to the end of the world. They will remember her, always, on this day – as the beacon of light on the stormiest, most surprisingly victorious day of their lives.

Oh, I think the English Royal Navy will remember this day too. As Will turned the Dutchman to point towards the Navy, so did Barbossa, and the sight of both the Black Pearl and the Flying Dutchman roaring towards them, in unison, rather than duking it out, scared the hell out of the Navy so much that they fled after we destroyed their first ship. I must say, I've never seen the cannon power of the Dutchman, not even the impressively outfitted Navy ships. Tri-barreled guns that rotated and spun out firebombs within seconds of each other, seemingly never running out of powder – and a hull so thick that other cannon fodder scarcely grazed its surface. Masts that seemingly created the right wind by themselves. A prow that cut its teeth into the waters like the fanged snout of a dozen tiger sharks. Transformers, anyone?? Boy, did Will get himself some toy!

As the Royal Navy retreated, the pirate ships sang and danced with joy. The crew broke out the rum, and Barbossa and Jack even linked arms and did a crazy little dance that belied how much they drank. "Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me!" They bellowed at the top of their lungs. The whole crew joined in:

"We pillage, we plunder, we rifle, and loot,

Drink up, me 'earties, yo ho!

We kidnap and ravage and don't give a hoot,

Drink up me 'earties, yo ho!!!!!!!!!!!"

The wind suddenly changed direction and I gasped when I saw the Flying Dutchman practically on top of us. Will had guided the ship parallel to the Pearl, so that he could cross over in the blink of an eye – literally. Another neat trick! I giggled giddily at him – what other powers did he possess?? He crossed over to me in two steps, and we embraced with everything we had. He held me so tight that I could smell the seawater in his skin and the wind in his hair, and the fire of our embrace jolted my heart alive again. "Oh Will!" I cried, pressing my cheek to his. Can he feel my heartbeat? Can he feel how much I love him?? "I love you," we whispered in unison, then broke up in giggles. "I love you more than anything in the world," he promised. We kissed, lip to lip, palm to palm, heart to heart. My hand caressed his scar, and when he bent his head, I leaned in even closer to kiss his cheek, then, to kiss his scarred chest. Once, twice, three times, I traced the bruised skin from the tip to its cavernous heart, paying tribute to the miracle and the curse that kept him alive. I felt him shudder in response, drawing a deep breath that filled out his muscles. His hand was on my wrist, and his eyes danced with eagerness. It was our wedding day, after all!

As the two victorious ships circled each other in the churning sea, the storm fled from the sky and descended onto our decks. Sooner than we could take a step towards the captain's quarters, Calypso was back in front of us, in the form of Tia Dalma. I held on tightly to Will's hand, facing her. There was something in her eyes that I dreaded terribly.

"Where is thy heart?" she hissed. She was in a playfully dreadful mood. Will bravely took a half-step forward, shielding me from the witch while holding onto my hand tightly. "Where is thy heart!" she repeated.

"In the chest," he answered.

She smiled teasingly at him. "And wheeeeeere is de key?"

"In my possession."
She smiled at him, then, looking around him, straight at me. "Ah, but you have a new wiiiiiiife, Will-yiam Turner." She looked at me like a snake to a mouse.

"Aye."

She turned back to him, omnious. "You shall have one day wid her. And only one day. Den, it be TEN YEARS at sea."

"WHAT???????????"

I almost leapt forward in my shock. Will grabbed my shoulders and I could feel my heart pounding to be let out. "What do you mean – ?!"

She snarled at me. "Dat be de curse! Dat be de fate of de cap-tain of de Dutchman! Ten years at sea. One day on land. Nothing else is allowed. If the agreement is bro-ken, de boy never returns." She veered back to Will. "You have an arduous task ahead of you. There shall be no dis-trac-tions! If you have a love willing to wait for you," she grinned conspiringly at me, "den, you may give her your heart, and she shall wait ten years for you." She came to stand in front of me directly, leaning in so her whisper echoed like a bell in my ears. "And if you remain faithful, in every sense o' de word, den, the curse be bro-ken, and your love may return to you."

She stepped back. My head was reeling. TEN YEARS????????????????????????????? I could barely fathom being away from Will for ten days, let alone TEN YEARS???????????????????????????? Is there such a hell???

Will could barely speak. "I thought that curse was only for Davy Jones," he began. Swiftly he was silenced by the scowling Tia Dalma.

"Men are all de same!" she growled ominously. "If you want immortality, what are you to argue wid de priiiiiice? Take it, lad, and take it wid thanks. Or will you rather be dead?" She mentioned hastily to me. "Will you rather say goodbye to your wife and go to your grave?"

"No!" He cried swiftly.

She smiled. We were beaten. "Den, you heed dis curse." She took a step towards us menacingly, forcing us to separate and break hands. "You shall not step on de Dutchman," she cautioned me. Then, to Will, "And you shall not leave de Dutchman. Your one day begins tomorrow, at dawn. Upon sunset, you must return to de Dutchman, and de ten years begin henceford." Her eyes settled briefly on Will's scar, the one that I was kissing so reverently before her arrival. "Give your heart to de one you love." She looked up into his eyes. "And pray dat she returns like-kind, so de love remains true. Only den, upon ten years time, will you be returned to her . . and the curse broken."

She left as quickly as she came, and with it, a strong gust of wind. The Pearl rocked in her wake as the crew scrambled to mind the wheel. Will, too, was gone, and I turned frantically to find him at the wheel of the Dutchman, also broken from its path. The two ships no longer sailed as one, but now bobbled in opposite directions, dangerous to the shouts and hands of its men. I clutched a pole to steady myself, and, turning, saw Will yell in my direction as the ships veered apart. "Isla Cruces! Tomorrow! At dawn!"

Then he was gone. The Dutchman simply vanished. And I mean, vanished. What the hell?? Doesn't the curse start tomorrow night???

So I spent my wedding night alone. Barbossa was nice enough to give me his quarters for the night, and Jack, too, showed great generosity in offering up a full pitch of rum. Ah, but you have nothing on Will; nothing shall slake me of him. Is it too much to ask, to have a nice, happy wedding day? I care not for the flowers, the gifts, or the ring, for which all 3 turned up empty. I care not even for a brief naval war thrown in to determine the fate of good and evil on the high seas. But I do care for a healthy, living husband who can join me for my wedding night. Not one who dies in my arms. Not one who gets cursed for ten years. Not one whom I can only enjoy, and feel, and have, for all of one day?? Bloody hell!! Who thinks these things up???