Author Note:
This fanfiction was written by two people and therefore there is no sole one person to be credited for it [it might also explain any differences ;D. Both of us have access to this account and therefore both can read the reviews and such.
All Pirates of the Caribbean characters/places/etc belong to Disney, the producers, writers, etc... We take no credit aside from the OOC characters.
Also, fear not! Some more of your beloved characters will enter in the following chapters. x3
Abigale looked sternly at her feet. Her slender figure was pushed up against a cold, hard, stone wall. It was plainly obvious that she wasn't enjoying this in the slightest. But who would enjoy being thrown into jail for no apparent reason? That was Abigale's situation at this very moment. What she had done to deserve this kind of treatment far surpassed her knowledge.
An irritable sigh escaped her lips as her brown wavy hair was pushed back behind her shoulders impatiently. Her feet were placed together neatly, and her dress was rather neat. Of course this didn't include the dirt marks on her dress, all because of those stern guards that literally threw her into this dump. She didn't believe this was how a woman should be treated.
Her head directed itself to the roof, her blue eyes shifting around the stones for any sign of something loose. She knew this was useless, considering that there would probably another three meters of dirt and rubbles atop of that. Well... it went something like that anyway. It wasn't like there were any possible ways of escaping though; a small window at the side and a small hard wooden seat. Oh joy, just what the doctor ordered.
"What to do...?" She questioned herself, her hand venturing to her chin and rubbing it as she got up from the wall and peered through the large bars covering the tiny, pitiful excuse for a window. Her hands now made their way to the bars and held on to them. She shook them slightly, to no avail. She shook them again more furiously, alas she was just making herself weaker.
Abigale turned on her heel and quickly sat down on the small wooden seat, a frown apparent on her pale face. Her arms quickly folded and her leg crossed over the other. There was no use of trying to escape. How could a woman like her escape a guarded area like this anyway? That was just against all odds to be perfectly honest. Although, as she slipped into thought, she became unaware of the monstrosity that was slowly making his way toward the jail.
'The Monstrosity's' polished shoes tapped along the cobblestone with every regal step he took toward the jailhouse, his gaze as expressionless as ever, despite the constant thoughts, plots and plans making their way through his mind. Lord Beckett had finally managed to find her, the girl that had the 'key', well, that was as far as he had managed to go in working out this whole situation at least. He had no idea if it was a literal key or a figurative key, but it did not matter. He had her, and that was that. Beckett was a manipulator, and, truthfully, no better than a pirate (of course Beckett would never ever lower himself to true piracy, but, nevertheless, the mentality was still eerily similar), he would do anything to get what he wanted or to prevent others from gaining what they desired. This particular situation could prove to be either, he had yet to speak to the imprisoned woman, but who was to say that she even knew as much as he did?
Apparently he had not been paying much mind to where he was walking because, before he knew it, the irritatingly blinding sunlight was replaced with a welcoming cool darkness as he stepped into the jailhouse. It was rather cool in here he noted, due to the stone walls, of course. Not that one would usually care about the fact that they were saved from the beating sun, owing to their circumstances if they just so happened to be unluckily enough to be residing in the jailhouse.
Abigale heard the footsteps approaching her cell and gathered that it would be best to stand up and at least look at whomever was coming to greet her... and then demand that they let her go! Beckett, on the other hand, had other ideas. Giving a curt nod to the man already guarding the cell, apparently instructing him to leave (an order the navy officer gladly complied with), Beckett turned to face the pretty woman leaning against the stone wall of the cell, the never faltering stoniness still evident on his pale features.
Abigale simply tapped her foot impatiently on the rock hard floor, the grey colouring that tarnished it boring her. This wasn't what she wanted. It wasn't as if she could get out of this difficult situation, but she knew that she dearly wanted to, no matter what she would try. She lowered her head sadly, maybe in shame for getting caught too, but who knew. Abigale knew what this was about now; it wasn't often that the main man in charge of this place came to see anyone personally. She was rather surprised at how he searched everywhere to find her. It wasn't the easiest thing to do. Nobody else had been able to do so after all.
She wandered over toward the bars that were in front of her and wrapped her delicate fingers onto two of them, glaring at this nicely dressed male. He was definitely higher up, his clothes proved this. She didn't know exactly who he was, and she definitely didn't know why he would want to know this secret that she had. Or even how he had heard of it in the first place...
"Your business with me, 'sir'?", she said nicely to him, although straining the 'sir' part, almost spitting it out of her pinkish lips. Her hands detached themselves from the bars, leading onto her chest so her arms were crossed again. She wanted to know his reasoning behind this capture. There had to be more to it than the normal eye could tell. She wanted to get out of here, although she would try her best not to tell him about her burden. She looked at him with an air of demand, although she knew this probably wasn't the best emotion to show toward this man. She could already tell that he thought highly of himself.
Despite this demanding manner that Abigale maintained, Beckett's impassiveness did not falter. It had always been surprising to most that the man could maintain such an imperial and monotonous air at all times. Of course, the monotony was generally broken by his piercing gaze, as that appeared to be what made up for his somewhat short stature. He was lucky, really, to have found Abigale so easily. Well, he hadn't found her specifically; he had other people to do that for him. He was also lucky to have gotten a hold of her before she managed to get roped in with any of the pirates or, of course, be captured by them. Currently, she might be being forced to sit on the floor of a cold, filthy and dank cell, but it certainly wasn't as bad as the being shoved into the brig of a filthy pirate ship.
Abigale's gaze remained on Beckett as he apparently wandered off into thought. She could see that this one would be different. He seemed to know a lot, just by looking at him she could tell that he had gone through a lot and picked up an awful amount of knowledge in doing so. That being said, her technique of annoying the hell out of the other person still had the ability to hold up here.
"Business," He then repeated calmly, interrupting the silence that had fallen momentarily. "There are many ways this particular conversation could go; I trust that you choose the right route. Which leads me to my first enquiry; do you know why you have been brought here?" He didn't expect her to tell the truth, he wasn't idiotic enough to believe every word she said, because ignorance would most likely be the end of him and he wasn't planning on dying any time soon.
Abigale huffed, turning on her heel, she walked toward the window. Beckett, sensing that he wasn't about to get an answer, continued to watch her as she turned her back on him. She definitely wouldn't talk that easily. Twirling her hair slightly she looked out the window. It was rather bright, and the rays of sun warmed the cool breeze that taunted her through the barred window. She opened her mouth and yawned, placing her hand over her mouth as she did so. She may not be in a perfect state right this moment, but she still had manners. Beckett observed the young woman for a moment as the thin lines of light filtering through the barred window illuminated Abigale – she certainly was attractive, there was no denying that. But by this time in his life Beckett had realised that beauty didn't ever encumber one's intelligence or even their dishonesty. He had met enough women that were both untrustworthy and too clever for their own good to underestimate Abigale. Especially considering he was intent on getting some answers from her.
But then Abigale turned back around to face him once more. "Many ways, you say?". She didn't know there were 'many', as he said, but at least two came to mind. "Hmm..." She thought to herself, patting her chin in a boring manner, like this was just a time-waster to her. "I am not sure on what you speak of, sir." She replied, bringing her arms down to her side again.
Abigale had purposefully tried to avoid his previous query [Beckett took immediate note of this, but this was just a small side part to her big plan. Yes. Of course Abigale had a plan, she always had a plan. Even if she hadn't completely thought of one... it was still there, she just needed to find the major plots and details of them!
"You just so happened to choose the wrong path, Miss Dean." He paused for a second, before continuing, "You realise that it would be much easier for the both of us if you chose to answer my reasonable question, rather than dismissing it, do you not?" It was now Abigale's turn to smirk at his words, even if he didn't show true signs of doing so. She knew exactly how he would counter attack toward her, and he had just confirmed her thoughts on doing what she expected. He was interested in her vast knowledge on a certain subject that not-so-many people knew of. No doubt about that, considering he pushed on the fact that he wanted to know if she knew why she was in this god forsaken smut.
The young woman yawned yet again; this man was boring her to death for some reason. Just the way he talked and such, how he used people to get what he wanted. This wasn't a good trait in people, to Abigale it certainly wasn't anyway.
"Hrmm..." She thought to herself again before looking back to the window. Whenever she thought, she seemed to look toward something of inspiration. The sun glaring in through the window was the only thing that appealed to her in the slightest here, so it was rather hard to find any proper words to counter attack Beckett. Beckett, on the other hand, simply found this odd and slightly irritating although he didn't question it. He would much rather hear what she had to say than to insist she answer a completely pointless enquiry regarding her habits.
She quickly turned back and waltzed to the bars, her own arms behind her back this time. It was almost like she was copying him, yet she wouldn't stoop that low. That was child's play, this was no child matter.
"The wrong choice? Oh, I do apologise kind sir, but I believe that it wouldn't matter either way." She stated. Her debate was definitely worth it... It seemed as though she had come up with a good answer to his simple little statement. Well... she thought it was good anyway, this didn't happen too often considering she wasn't exactly the smartest cookie. "I have come to see that there is no right or wrong choice. If I choose to ignore your question, you could kill me. But then, you will never get an answer, would you, 'sir'" She said, pointing toward him as she did so thus emphasising her point even further. The 'sir' part was hardly audible either, she was just being nice. Well... Not nice, more like a forced niceness upon a man who didn't deserve such a thing.
Abigale nodded her head before continuing, "Then again... if I do agree to tell you such a thing... you could kill me anyway, thus leaving me dead and lonely in a world I know nothing of..." She prodded her chin again thinking of how she should go on with this conversation. It was a rather hard thing for her, considering she hadn't come across anyone who had known of her 'key' powers before. Beckett, meanwhile, had come to the realisation that he needed to be tactful in order to gain the information, but perhaps she would be willing to give it to him.. for a price; as always.
"And what is it that makes you assume I would kill you if you do not tell me?" Beckett believed her politeness was most likely just a façade, because, although her tone did not sound spiteful, she most certainly didn't seem to want to be conversing with him. That was quite understandable, really, but she didn't have any choice, and should therefore make the most of the situation at hand. "I would not be so proud of your smart remarks – no matter how 'good' the trait is -, Miss Dean. I would consider who it is that has the ability to set you free before requesting an accord if I were in your current situation."
"I assume you would kill me, considering there has to be someone else after me. How do I know this? You can't be the kind of fellow that would just pick up a girl from the middle of nowhere for no apparent reason. And what use am I to you?" She started, turning around to look at the window again before placing her clenched fist to the bottom of her chin. "This is more than likely a matter that would be none of your business, sir." She replied, turning around again to meet his gaze
Beckett didn't reply, but instead chose to allow the silence to give an adequate response. She knew the answer to her question already; she knew exactly how much use she was to him. To a lot of people.
"Hrmm..." Abigale thought, walking toward the bars closer this time. She did want to get out of here dearly... It was too cold. "It's just too cold to talk I am afraid. Maybe you will just be forced to let me out, and then I may be forced to tell you all I know." She whimpered sadly at the end.
This situation seemed even both ways, because Beckett could keep her locked up for as long as necessary (in other words, as long as he desired, regardless of whether or not he got the information), yet she did have the information that he wanted. It was doubtful in his mind that there would be an even compromise.
"Although your request might be so very tempting, I don't think that is quite the negotiation I was looking for, Miss Dean." His tone was somewhat flat, as though he were simply stating the blunt truth, which it was… in some way, because, no, that wasn't the sort of compromise he was looking for, not at all.
The thing was, despite the fact that Beckett doubted her honesty, Abigale always stuck to her word. She would most likely tell him, as long as she could go free or something of more importance. The thoughts were coming to her now... She could ask of anything, he seemed to really want to know the information that she carried with her. And she was the only one who knew it.