A/n: This is a rewrite of a very old fic so you may have seen the title before, but the chapters have changed so I encourage you to reread. I will update as regularly as I can. The name Maris means 'star of the sea' which seems fitting.
There is nothing romantic about a mysterious man dragging your from your bed in the middle of the night. Countless novels would suggest otherwise but Maris knew the cold, hard truth.
The man had slipped into her room as she slept and knocked her out with what she could only presume was ether on a rag. She had regained consciousness to find her hands bound behind her back. There was a strip of cloth covering her eyes and in her panic, she hadn't been able to catch her breath.
It was clear that she was in the back of some kind of carriage as it was bustling around as it traveled along bumpy roads. On one occasion she slipped from her seat and her knees collided with her kidnapper's legs. He'd grabbed her upper arm roughly to shove her back onto her seat but Maris twisted away from him but rather than letting her go he simply took the back of his hand to her face.
'Don't try anything daft, lass' he'd hissed before pushing her back into her seat.
She had remained quiet and still then. She knew enough about men who kidnapped women to not ignore his warning. She'd heard stories and she had a bad feeling she was about to become another one of them. Just another statistic.
They'd ended up on a ship - it bobbed under foot as she stumbled, blindfolded, into the belly of it. Her captor had led her, his hand painfully gripping her upper arm, but Maris had taken so long to move that the man had taken to almost dragging her along behind him. They came to stop after a matter of minutes and he unlocked a door and she was roughly pushed inside a small room within which she remained for what seemed hours.
Maris didn't like ships. They brought back horrible memories. Nothing good had ever come of being on a ship for her. She couldn't help but tremble while waiting for whatever conclusion her ordeal might bring.
Maris didn't cry often. As a child, she was taught that it showed weakness. But her desperate situation was an exception to normality. She didn't know who had snatched her as she slept, or indeed why. She had no idea where she was or if the others at home even knew she was missing. Her situation petrified her as she knew it was rarely that situations like the one she was in ended well.
That's why Lord Beckett found her slumped in the corner of the storage room with tears running down her face. They pooled together around her chin and dripped onto her nightdress. She was oblivious to his presence as he stood there looking down at her at his feet.
If his informant was correct about her identity it could be an enormous victory for him. He didn't want to get carried away, though. She didn't look like one of them as she sat there in her plain nightdress but there was only one way to find out for sure. He crouched until he was level with her, noticing that strands of her dark hair were sticking to her cheeks. He reached forwards and pulled the fabric away from her eyes, letting it hang loosely around her neck.
She flinched away from him. Her back collided with the crates stacked in the corner behind her which caused them to wobble. Cutler threw his hand up behind her head to stop them from crashing down upon them.
'Careful' he chided as she squinted up at him with fear written across her face. The harsh light from the lantern in his hand was hurting her eyes. She blinked a few times before she was able to focus on him and they stared at one another in a silence.
He was searching for some familiarity to jump out at him and he realised after a moment that it was her eyes. They were the colour of chocolate. It was in that instance that he knew.
"Hmm… well, you certainly have your brother's eyes."
The tense silence that had filled the room between them disappeared with his remark.
"My brother has his own eyes" she whispered her curt response, unable to make her voice any louder.
Cutler smirked, amused by her comment. It was clear that she was petrified and yet there was defiance in her words. He could admire that.
"You do not deny that you are Maris Sparrow?"
"Maris Teague" she corrected, a brief look of worry passing over her face. His stomach fluttered as the possibilities danced through his mind.
"How delightful" he whispered, an unintended menacing tone to his voice. She was his now and Sparrow would be at his mercy. The battle would be won.
Cutler realised he was eyeing her as though she were a new sword. It was unbecoming of a gentleman so he reached to place the material across her eyes but Maris dodged his hands.
"Where am I?" she demanded from him, her voice cracking as she tried to speak with some authority, "Who are you?"
Cutler opened his mouth to respond but the door to the room opened and Mercer interrupted him.
"Lord Beckett, they're ready for you, sir" he called, holding the door open behind him.
Maris's eyes widened as she recognised his voice, Cutler noted.
"Very good" he replied to his assistant. He turned to look back at Maris who was still looking past him at Mercer with fear and confusion evident on her face.
"Miss Teague, to answer your questions - you are aboard HMS Endeavour and I am Lord Beckett. We have brought you aboard to assist with our negotiations with the pirate lords."
"The... the pirate lords?" Her eyes snapped back to his face and there was real fear in her voice and it threw Cutler slightly.
"Please don't take me to them" she pleaded, "You are making a mistake, they-"
He silenced her protest by placing the cloth in her mouth instead of over her eyes. It didn't stop her pleading at him with those dark eyes; you're making a mistake...
He banished the nugget of doubt she has produced from his head as he made his way across the room towards Mercer. He turned to look at his assistant whom he noticed was eyeing the girl with a mixture of disgust and amusement.
"Mr Mercer, show Miss Teague to my office. There is much to discuss once I have finished addressing the officers."
Mercer nodded affirmation, not removing his eyes from the girl who was staring right back at him.
"Good man. Oh-" Beckett paused once more and turned to look at the other man who glanced back at his master.
"Be sure to do it without hitting her this time, yes?"
Maris could not fathom how Lord Beckett had discovered her identity and location. She had been so careful since she had fled Shipwreck. So few people knew her real name and Maris couldn't believe that any of them would pass her over to Beckett. Unless, of course, she was an awful judge of character.
'You can't trust those who don't owe you something, or those that do' Jack had once told her and perhaps he was right. Perhaps she had been worth more to someone as a reward than she had been worth as a friend or colleague?
And now she was to be used in negotiations with Pirate Lords. Of all the people on the planet that she would rather not get involved with, they were at the top of the list. Whoever had tipped Beckett off couldn't have known the full story. That ruled out Doctor Moore and Mrs Moore, at least. That made her feel a bit better but it didn't help in the slightest with her current predicament.
She was tied to a chair and had little choice but to watch Lord Beckett as he read papers on his desk and wrote a letter. He was making a point of pretending she wasn't there.
She glanced down at her nightdress, spoiled from the journey. Torn and muddy, just like the skin on her feet. She longed for a bath but knew it was something that she might never have again. That should have made her feel sad but instead, emptiness welled up inside her. It made her want to cry out but she suspected that if she were to vocalise how she felt it would have pleased Lord Beckett.
She did not want to please him.
Beckett eventually placed the quill down on the desk and leaned back in his chair. He observed her over steeped fingers and she returned his stare.
"There is one thing that puzzles me about you." He spoke in a casual voice after a considerable silence, as though they were friends at lunch.
"Just the one?"
Beckett raised an eyebrow at her tone with the hint of a smile playing around his mouth.
"Why were you hiding under a false name?"
He wouldn't stop staring.
"I was not hiding. I had started a new life-"
"-Oh come now, Miss Teague, you were hiding. I cannot help but wonder why your father would not keep his daughter in the safety of Shipwreck cove?"
"You know of Shipwreck?"
The surprise in her tone caused a smug expression to spread across Beckett's face.
"There is a lot I know about your family that might surprise you" he replied, tidying papers on his desk. Maris cocked her head.
"Not everything, though... or you would know my father believes that I am dead."
Cutler stared at the woman, all hints of a smile leaving his face. She stared back, her face just as blank. She was lying of course. Or, if not, she was spelling out the flaw in his plan that he hadn't considered. Could Teague think his daughter dead?
"Why?"
The tension in the room was noticeable as Beckett hung off of her every move, her every unspoken word. Maris inhaled until her lungs were full; she cast her eyes down to her feet.
"Perhaps if you were to untie my hands I could explain?"
Beckett laughed,
"You're a Teague. I have learned not to trust your family."
Maris raised an eyebrow at that.
"I suppose that's wise…" she said after considering his statement for a second or two. "My brother taught me to never submit without negotiation, that's all."
"I am not untying your hands."
"Well, when I was Sixteen my father lashed out at me in a fit of anger and caught my throat with his sword. They took me to a doctor and my father was led to believe that I had not survived so that I might escape him."
The silence grew heavy and when Cutler did not respond Maris continued.
"I was going to show you the scar on my neck as evidence." She raised her chin still, attempting the expose her throat to prove that she was telling the truth.
Beckett sat forward and gazed at her exposed neck but he couldn't make out any scars.
"I don't see anything" he was sceptical.
Maris lowered her head back down and a brief smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
"Take a closer look..." she suggested but the sceptical expression remained on Cutler's face.
"You should not let all of us Teague's scare you so much-"
"-You don't scare me" he spat out but Maris simply shrugged her shoulder at him.
Cutler studied her face as she stared back at him, not quite knowing what to make of her. Maris seemed harmless but there was something about her he couldn't quite put his finger on. She was feisty and as intelligent as her brother but Cutler didn't trust her. Not with the blood she had running through her veins. He stood from his chair regardless and moved around the desk towards her both out of curiosity and to show her that she didn't intimidate him.
He came to a stop in front of the woman with his desk now standing behind him. Maris gazed up at him, unsure what to say or do now that he was so close. Without warning, Lord Beckett reached forwards and took hold of her chin. He tilted her head backward to reveal the scars. She noticed how soft his hands were. She had expected calluses, perhaps.
Her throat was pale and flawless except for puckered scarring which sat to the right of her throat and ran around her neck across the shoulder currently hidden by her nightdress. The scars were pale and white but at one time they had been a serious wound. Somebody had slashed at her neck with a blade from right to the left.
"Jack stopped him before he could do any permanent damage" she whispered. She pulled her face away from his hand.
Beckett stood still as he stared down at her. His relationship with his own father had been an emotionless one. But even so, he couldn't imagine a father lashing out at his own child with a sword.
"That's why you were hiding?"
Maris's head snapped back up to look Cutler in the eye, "I wasn't hiding. I was creating a new life. Jack took me to a nurse who knew Doctor Moore after it happened. He helped me recover and took me under his wing."
There was a silence. An awful, tense silence. Lord Beckett towered over Maris, inches away from her face.
"You understand why your negotiations will fail now, surely?" she asked, not daring to blink as his eyes bored into hers as though searching them for a lie.
"Why would he try to kill his own daughter?"
"Your plan won't work. You've stolen me away from my home for nothing" Maris's voice was getting louder. She was angry with him.
"Why did he try to kill you?" Beckett insisted, furrowing his brow.
"Did you hear what I said? We're all going to die and it's your doing!" Maris shouted.
In one swift movement, Beckett had closed the space between them, a hand either side of Maris on the arms of the chair. She leaned backward instinctively but there were mere centimetres between them.
"Miss Teague, do not underestimate me." He spoke slowly and although his voice was soft it was firm.
"Your father and his intention to kill you will not stop me from destroying the pirate lords. I have the Dead Man's Chest. I command these seas and I will destroy all pirates. Every single one of them! Now, answer my question."
The look in his eyes and the steel edge to his voice scared Maris. She turned her head and stared at the floor but Lord Beckett grasped her jaw and chin in his palm and forced her to look at him.
"Tell me," he whispered. There followed a pause and Maris realised that it didn't really matter if he knew the truth. If anything it might make him see that his plan to use her as a means to negotiate wasn't as strong as he had originally believed.
"I betrayed him and he couldn't find it in himself to forgive me."
Cutler did not move and Maris wondered if he was going to hurt her. The intensity of his gaze made it unreadable.
"I tried to leave. I hated what they did... just the way they lived was so..." she paused, her breath shuddering as she released it.
"When he found out that I had run away he locked me up to ensure I couldn't try again, but I did and he caught me and..." she stopped, finding that she was unable to go on.
Her bottom lip was wobbling. She felt like a tiny, little child under the gaze of this powerful man. Beckett still didn't move or break his stare. His breath tickled her chin and for the first time, she felt scared of him. He was shorter than a lot of men and yet there was something about him that screamed of power.
He surprised Maris by suddenly untying the rope binding her hands to the left arm of the chair. Her hands were still tied together but she wasn't trapped now. She looked up at Cutler as he shifted from his imposing position over her. He chose instead lean on the desk behind him and tilted his head back to look at the ceiling. He then glanced down at her with his chin tilted up somewhat.
"Your father…" he paused for effect, "is a lunatic".
Maris bit her lip at his comment.
"Maybe he is" she replied, "but he's also one of the most feared pirates on the seas. He will kill me, his own flesh and blood. Then without a pause, he will kill you and he will cut down every man in your Armada if he stands with the other Pirate Lords."
Beckett had an unreadable look on his face as his eyes raked over her face and then the rest of her before coming to rest on her scarred shoulder.
"Not if I kill them first, Maris."
