A heavy feeling had befallen the town of Port Royal. The humidity clung to the air, every breath feeling dense, weighing down the lungs of those who inhaled it. Then again, this was normal for the city nestled in the Caribbean. What made the citizens of Port Royal so uneasy were the squads of British soldiers searching the city; every shop and house on the island. Piracy was common among these parts, and the citizens had grown accustomed to the many hangings and man-hunts for those charged with it.

However, there was something odd about this particular hunt. The city government had not provided a single scrap of information regarding the wanted criminal; no name, no picture, nothing. They had not even informed the citizens that it was indeed a pirate-hunt, they only assumed it to be that. The soldiers had only told the people to remain in their homes.

And it was not just the residents of Port Royal who were confused. The soldiers found their orders quite unusual. Never had they been instructed with absolute strictness to avoid killing the suspect, let alone assure no harm came to them. Soldiers had always been allowed – no, encouraged – to rough up pirates when apprehending them. What made this one different?

Within the southern district, a cloaked figure hid in the shadows, hood drawn and dark eyes glinting, reflecting the fire of the torch a nearby soldier held. He had finished ordering an old woman out of her home so that he may search it. The figure watched silently as the old woman clutched her shawl around her shoulders, dressed in only a nightgown. She winced as she heard the audible shattering of her possessions echoing from within her house.

A soldier accompanying the first casted a quick glance about the surrounding houses and then retreated to join his comrade. The figure took advantage of this, and crept from out from the alleyway in which they had concealed themselves. The old lady caught eye of the revealed figure and her aging eyes widened. Casting a shadowy smile at the woman, the suspected-pirate pulled back the forest green cloak to expose a strapped blunderbuss. A thin finger pointed to lips, encouraging the woman's silence. While the stunned woman stared on in complete stillness, the figure turned on heel and slinked further south.

Leathered boots on cobblestone made no noise, and even the figure's breaths were soft and controlled. The air grew putrid with the smell of rotting fish and washed up seaweed, indicating that Port Royal's harbor was quite near. The cloaked suspect's pace quickened, nearing a full sprint. Hooded eyes locked on a ship not far from the docks and their speed increased. Agile feet leapt over crates of fish and carried the pirate closer to the edge of the docks.

Cries from the district behind caused them to stop and duck behind a large stack of shipments. As the din from the soldiers grew quiet, they rounded the corner of the boxes to find a sharp blade at their slender throat.

"Reveal yourself." Barked the possessor of the sword whose uniform and badges conveyed him to be a captain of the guard.

The hood was drawn back, and long hair tumbled down slender shoulders. Mischievous eyes glinted in the torchlight of the crowd of soldiers gathering around their leader. "Good evening sirs." the soft voice piped innocently.

"Elise the Siren." The man proclaimed, and she grinned. "You are under arrest by orders of the Crown."

"The Crown? Hasn't good ol' William have other things to worry about than little me?" She asked, feigning genuine curiosity.

"Not him ma'am." Spoke one of the surrounding soldiers. Elise's charade of innocence dripped away as she eyed the man, looking to be no older than nineteen. He suddenly felt very small with her hazel eyes trained upon him. He stumbled through his words as he continued, "Lord Beckett issued your warrant."

Something flickered across her face that the soldiers could not pinpoint, but just as quickly her face broke into a triumphant smirk, as though she had just beaten them all at a game they were unaware they were playing. She held her wrists out and whispered to the young solider, "Then we mustn't keep him waiting."

The pirate was led by chains through the lower district. Residents of the port town lined the streets to watch as Elise was marched past. The iron cuffs clamped around her slim wrists were loose enough for her to wriggle free from, but she left them there. She smiled at the staring faces around her, humming an unknown tune. It was composed of long sweet notes, but possessed an eerie sense that put many of the citizens on edge. None of them spat or threw rotten produce at Elise, which was customary when a pirate was being paraded to jail. However, Elise was heading towards the Governor's Mansion, rather than Bridewell Prison, and so the people were silent in their confusion, only watching as the woman passed.

The lines of spectators grew nonexistent as they neared their destination. The people had returned home, the tolls of the bells ringing throughout the city declaring that it was very late. There was nothing more to learn about the mysterious pirate woman tonight, and they would await to hear of a probable hanging at dawn.

Elise was placed in large room on the second floor of the mansion after having her sword, blunderbuss, and even the small knife concealed in her boot confiscated. The two guards closed the door behind them, and she could hear them settling on either side. She made her way to the window that held a view of the lower districts and out into the harbor. Far in the distance she could see the ship still awaiting her, and she smiled to herself.

In the center of the room was a large wooden table with a map and many sheets of paper strewn about. She ran her hand along the edge, of the map, tracing the blue paint which indicated the ocean. Her eyes darted to a piece of paper written in strange characters – a code. She furrowed her brows as she attempted to decipher it but gave up quickly.

Instead, she strode over to a mirror against the wall. She looked her reflection up and down and clicked her tongue at its disheveled appearance, as her mother would have done. The pirate chuckled to herself about how far she had strayed from her mother's wishes for her only daughter. She recalled her mother swooning over how Elise looked in a dress and how the boys watched her when she walked through the town. Now Elise only wore her leather boots and the trousers, dirtied shirt and cloak she had stolen from her father's closet. It was most likely when her mother noticed the disappearance of her husband's blunderbuss had she realized her daughter had left, just as her husband and son had left. Elise's father had always told her than seawater runs through their veins.

Elise ran her fingers through her long hair streaked with sunshine and gnarled with sea spray, its chestnut hue inherited from her mother rather than the raven locks of her father. Her skin was tanned and splattered with freckles and her hands were rough and worn from endless work manning the ship. She rubbed at the dark circles under her eyes and sighed at the women in the mirror, understanding how far she had come from the woman her mother wanted her to be. Elise felt no remorse.

Behind her the wooden door creaked open and close again. She turned to see a man clothed in an immaculate uniform. He stood and watched her, hands clasped behind his back in formality. His face was more beautiful than handsome and was nearly void of all emotion, but Elise could see something in his eyes. They studied her, holding something resembling amusement. "Miss Elise." He bowed his head, regarding her as though she was a lady of nobility and not a criminal held in arrest.

The woman smiled. She rounded the table, pressing her palms into the polished wood as she leaned against it. "Lord Beckett." She replied, mimicking his stiffness. "Might we dispose of these formalities, they're terribly proper."

Smiling, the man took slow steps toward her, "It is good to see you again."

Elise tilted her head to the side and remarked casually, "I heard you wanted to see me."

"I heard you robbed the royal library." He countered

"It was only a few trinkets."

"A chalice from the Greco-Roman Age is not a trinket, Elise."

She shrugged, "How else was I to get your attention."

The King's man was now right before her, so close that the polished silver buttons on his cuffs grazed her exposed forearms. "There are other ways than thievery to accomplish that, Miss Elise." He pointed, eyes still studying her.

Elise straightened up and ran her hands along the delicate embroidery of Beckett's coat as she spoke softly, "Issuing a warrant for my arrest, sending your guards after me… you must have really missed me Beck." She raised an eyebrow at his lack of response and moved her fingers to his chest where she thumbed the cotton needle-work of his shirt. "Who could blame you, I always seem to be vanishing from right underneath your nose," she yanked him closer to her, his breath warm on her face. "or from under other places."

After a moment of palpable silence, their lips crashed together. His hand cupped the back of her neck as hers ran down from his chest. Further and further down until she reached deep and curled her fingers around what she had found in his coat pocket. She spun out of his arms and swiftly unrolled the tied scroll of paper. As her eyes ran across the page her triumphant smile melted away. She looked up with eyes narrowed and questioned, "Why have you brought me here Beckett?"

The man wiped at his lips with his thumb and answered, "We need your help."

"'We?'" she scoffed.

"We: The East India Trading Company; the government of England; the Crown." He said quickly. After a pause he continued, "I need your help." Elise remained silent, eying him cautiously. "I need something from your brother."

"Why would I help you capture my brother?" She spat.

The lord nodded to the scroll of paper in her hands. "That is a royal pardon, for both you and your brother. All it needs is my signature, and I will happily provide it if you bring him to us."

She sneered, "What makes you think we want that."

"A life free from persecution? Free from the threat of imprisonment? Free to sail about the seas and do as you see fit? You may think yourself an enigmatic woman but even I can guess that."

"And if I refuse?"

"We pursue him regardless, and the detail of his survival becomes trivial. And you, my dear Elise, will be named a traitor of the crown, and will never be able to set foot on land without a squadron of soldiers waiting to serve justice; a long drop with a short stop." Lord Beckett placed his hands behind his back once more, knowing he had her. Elise may very well have been the cleverest pirate Lord Beckett had ever met, but he was renowned for his silver tongue and way of convincing others to do his bidding.

Elise's face grew stony, losing its snark, a look Beckett knew to be of defeat. Solemnly, she spoke, "What would you have me do?"

Beckett smiled, like a parent praising their child. "I would have you go to Jack Sparrow and recover a certain property in his possession."

Elise's mind immediately shifted to the ship with black sails that her brother cherished. "So, the East India Trading Company is hoping to add the Black Pearl to its shipyard." She mused.

Lord Beckett cocked his head to the side, "The Black Pearl?"

"That is what you want from Jack, isn't it?"

He smiled and shook his head at the mistaken girl. "A ship? Hardly. The item in question is considerably smaller and far more valuable. Something Sparrow keeps on his person at all times." Elise furrowed her brows in confusion, not understanding what he was hinting at. Beckett decided to end the guessing game he had ensued as he stated, "A compass."

This cleared up no confusion for the young woman. It had been many years since she had seen her brother since his leaving their little home in England. Once she caught glimpse of him in a tavern in Tortuga, but at that time she had been masquerading as a young boy from Ireland so that she may join the ranks of a pirate crew. Approaching him would have jeopardized it all, though she desperately wished to.

She had no knowledge of this compass and could not understand why Lord Beckett would covet such a thing. Surely whatever compasses held with the royal navy vastly outvalued whatever trinket a pirate held on his person. Unless, of course, Jack had stolen something that Beckett wanted back. That must be the case thought Elise.

She thrusted the documents back at the lord and spoke sharply, "My crew and I will be prepared to set sail within the hour."

"You must dine with me tonight." Beckett stated. "Spend the night here, regain your strength."

"I prefer to be with my crew." She walked briskly toward the door but Beckett's hand caught her wrist and clutched hard. The grasp was painful, the lord's knuckles turning white as his face remained cool. Elise ignored the sharp jolts of pain shooting up her arm, remaining stone faced as he did.

"I think you forget your place, Miss Elise." He drawled. "You are still a captive pirate held under arrest. You will dine with me." Elise shook her arm free of his hold and stood silently as he ordered the two soldiers guarding the door to escort her to her designated room.

Within the small candlelit room, she found upon the embroidered duvet a shimmering green dress, complete with dainty shoes and undergarments. She picked it up, eyeing the delicate stitch work of flowers and small birds. She threw it back on the bed, disgusted by the implications that she must wear such a thing to dinner. A maid softly rapped at the door before entering, stating that she was there to "help the miss bathe and into her dress."

Elise was about to furiously declare that she would do none of that until she looked at the girl standing before her. She was quite young, looking to be no older than sixteen, with small features and pale skin. She held such a look of fright and Elise knew it was her that frightened her. So, she allowed her to do her duty, permitting her to pour a hot bath and wash her admittedly filthy hair. However, she refused to let the maid do anything more than a simple braid nor wear the dress Beckett had decided she don for her dinner with him. She had sworn to herself many years ago that never again would she allow herself to be squeezed together by a corset.

And, thus, she entered the dining room of the estate in her ratted shirt and trousers and scuffed leather boots. She waltzed through the double doors opened to her by soldiers with a man's confidence. Across the large oak table was Lord Beckett waiting in his signature pose of hands behind back, watching her stride over to the chair across from him and slump down, draping her leg over one of the armrests. Retaining his poise, Beckett sat down and motioned for a nearby servant to fill their wine glasses. As the dark man filled Elise's glass a third full, she snatched the bottle from his hands and poured until the crimson liquid reached just short of the brim. The behavior stunned the man, and he cautiously accepted the now half full bottle as it was handed back to him.

Lord Beckett attempted to hold back the smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he watched the beautiful women take several deep gulps of wine before placing the glass back upon the table. Such an act would have rendered most woman inebriated, but Beckett had a suspicion that this particular one had many years of practice drinking pint for pint with the hardy men of the seas. He motioned to the feast before them and said, "Eat. I am sure it has been a quite a long time since you have had a decent meal."

He was absolutely correct, but Elise did not tell him so. Although, the ravenous way she dug into the many plates of chicken, fish, and potatoes confirmed the fact. Beckett did not touch a single dish, and only sipped his wine as he observed the woman, eyes darting over every feature, noticing the scars upon her knuckles and the freckles upon her cheeks. His eyes even wandered further down, noting that the men's shirt could not hide Elise's womanly features.

After Elise had her fill of the delicacies before her, her eyes darted up to find Beckett's trained upon her. She leaned back, "I have dined with you, do I have my freedom now?"

"My dear you are never free, not until you bring what I want." He replied. She remained quiet, fingers tracing the engravings of the knife set before her. "You will set sail tomorrow, upon a ship of your own choosing…"

"My ship." She interrupted.

He nodded, granting her request. "You will be arranged a crew of Port Royal's finest sailors or you may sail with your crew if you so desire. I will be sending my finest soldier to accompany you and…"

"No." she said simply.

"I'm afraid you have no choice in this matter."

"I will not be babysat by one of your incompetent men." She spat. "My crew would gut him as soon as he boards."

"You will assure his safety; assure that no harm comes to him. You will protect him with your life." Lord Beckett stated.

"And why would I do that?"

"Because if he is so much as bruised the deal is off, and you and your brother will face the gallows."

Elise snorted, "You're bluffing."

"You intrigue me Elise, and that is why you are still alive, but do not test my patience. My interest does not stretch as far as you'd like."

The woman grew quiet, then quickly jumped to her feet and stomped out of the room, reminiscent of the tantrums she threw as a little girl. She ignored the commands of the soldiers trailing her to slow down and burst into the small room, taking the knife she swiped from the dining table and angrily stripping the feathered pillows upon the bed. After her fury subsided and the white plumes gently fell on her shoulders, she sat back on the bed and stared out the window to where that trusty ship still awaited her.

Lord Beckett's mind was trained solely on the pirate woman. The very woman who for years evaded him at every turn. She embarrassed him, mocked him, and infuriated him. And somehow, she still entertained him. She was a challenge, the one woman that did not bore him. He coveted the game they played and she was more than a worthy opponent.

And so, in his candlelit corridors, he kept his mind full of thoughts of her. He thought her hazel eyes and long flowing hair. He envisioned that very mane twisted in his hand as he gripped at the linen dress of the maid bent over his writing desk. As his hands groped at the pale and supple skin, he imagined it was the toned and tanned thigh of the pirate beneath his palm. As the young girl's weeping got louder, he clamped a hand over her mouth and imagined instead the sounds that he wanted to elicit from Elise. He wished he could be close enough to smell the sea breeze off her skin and taste the salt of the ocean off her tongue. To him, she was a great ocean storm and he wanted nothing more than to tame her.

Little did the man know that outside his door stood the very woman from his imaginings, listening to every grunt, groan, and whimper emanating from the room and shedding a silent tear for the young maid inside.