Summary: …The title speaks for itself, really. Covers the entire Curse of The Black Pearl.
Warning: Rule 63, applied to two of our main characters, and AU. Character dynamics and scenes from the movie were purposely altered by the Authoress in order to fit in with the story. May contain some inappropriate words as well. And due to the Authoress not having a beta for this story, she might've made mistakes, be it in grammar or spelling. Read at your own risk. You have been warned.
Disclaimer: Applying to the future chapters as well, I do not own POTC. (but that would be awesome~)
AN: …Don't hit me, please. I know this story must come off as weird to some of you, but I couldn't help it XD I just HAD to bring this plot-bunny to life, seeing that there're already a few (emphasis on 'few') POTC fanfics with the same idea behind them. I apologize firsthand for any mistakes I might've made in this fic, be it in storyline, grammar and/or spelling since English is my third language. (not to mention that I'm not exactly familiar with pirate speak or 16th century way of speaking in general) Feedback will be appreciated, and flames will be used to destroy the evil barrels.
Prologue: A Pirate's Life For Me
In the midst of the ocean's utter stillness, a grand ship silently cuts its way through the mist, sailing gracefully on top of the dark water. A singing voice echoed in the air.
"Drink up, me hearties, yo ho. We kidnap and ravage and don't give a hoot. Drink up, me hearties, yo ho. Yo, ho, yo, ho. A pirate's life for me."
The singer stared at the endless sea in front as the song continues.
"We extort, we pilfer, we filch, we sack. We-" A gasp broke through the singer's throat as a large hand grabbed the singer's shoulder roughly.
"Quiet, boy!" A bearded, harried man chided him harshly, eyeing the surrounding sea warily, "Cursed pirates sail these waters! You don't want to bring them down on us now, do ya?"
"Mr. Gibbs, that will do," Another man, one who looked to be of an important position on the ship, cut off the older man's words, his tone stern and commanding.
He turned around to protest, "But he was singing about pirates! Bad luck to be singing about pirates with us mired in this unnatural fog! Mark my words."
"Consider them marked," the man stated dryly and inclined his head to the side, not interested in holding a longer conversation than necessary with the sailor, "On your way."
Gibbs nodded stiffly, "Aye, Lieutenant." He made his way down to the decks, grumbling under his breath as he sneakily took a flask out of his jacket, "Bad luck to have a mere boy on board, too."
"I think it would be rather exciting to meet a pirate." The boy chimed, staring intently at the man addressed as Lieutenant. He smiled as he assessed the boy's appearance—large dark eyes sparkling with childish innocence, neatly combed brown hair which seemed to be turning blonde in some parts, small of stature but back straight, clad in finely tailored clothes of the higher caste—and chuckled a little, amused at such a bold statement from a boy who knew nothing of the dangers that would come should he be in the presence of the ones he wanted to meet.
Lightly ruffling the boy's hair—to an indignant pout from said boy—he intoned, "Think again, Elijah. Vile, dissolute creatures, the lot of them. I intend to see to it that any man who sails under a pirate flag or wears a pirate brand gets what he deserves," he paused, "A short drop and a sudden stop."
Elijah tilted his head curiously at the sentence, and was about to ask the man the meaning of it when he caught Gibbs' stare. Turning to look at him, his eyes widened in understanding as Gibbs grabbed his own scarf and tilted his head upwards, mimicking a familiar and feared gesture.
The hangman's noose.
His horror at the nonchalant statement immediately died down as another man, also garbed in clothes as fine as, if not more so, than his own and wearing the ghastly curly wig which signified his standing in the English government, made his way to speak to Norrington.
"Lieutenant Norrington, I appreciate your fervor, but I'm concerned about the effect this subject will have upon my son," he stated as he placed a gentle hand on the boy's shoulder. Norrington nodded stiffly, "My apologies, sir." Making his way down from the bow, he mouthed a more playful 'sorry' at the boy, and grinned as he stuck his tongue out in return.
Not one to give up on the subject easily, Elijah turned to speak to his father instead, "Actually, I find it all fascinating."
His father sighed in exasperation, "Yes, that's what concerns me." Not wanting to entertain the subject any longer, the man also made his way down, leaving his son standing alone on the ship's bow. His cheeks puffed out slightly in dissatisfaction at being ignored, the boy turned around to stare out into the open sea once more. And almost immediately, his sharp eyes caught sight of something floating on the water.
Squinting slightly to make out the object, Elijah's eyes sparkled in wonder as he recognized it as a parasol, the ones he often saw being held by noblewomen and the daughters of officials from the royal court alike.
'But why is it floating on the sea?' He wondered. He watched the parasol float off and nearly moved away in dismissal of the insignificant object, but out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of something even more out-of-place than the parasol, and his eyes widened as he turned towards it. Is that…?
Elijah yelled as he pointed out, "Look! A boy! There's a boy in the water!"
Alarmed by the sudden yell, Lieutenant Norrington along with his father and the other sailors immediately looked towards the direction he pointed out, and true to his word, there was indeed a boy floating on the water, lying on top of a piece of driftwood.
Norrington immediately barked out orders at the sailors, "Man overboard! Man the ropes! Fetch a hook! Haul him aboard!"
Elijah held his breath as the boy was hauled out of the water and laid out on the deck, and only after Norrington exclaimed that the boy was still breathing did he exhale in relief. But at Gibbs' horrified "Mary, Mother of God!" he turned back towards the grizzled man, and his eyes widened in as he saw what had brought the holy name out of the usually unflappable man's mouth.
He stood there along with all the other sailors who had also rushed to see what had caught Gibbs' attention, and they collectively gained the same look of horror on their faces. For right in front of them, was the burning remains of what used to be a ship.
Elijah distantly heard his father questioning the lieutenant about what had possibly happened here, the words 'powder magazine', 'merchant vessel', and 'heavily armed' thrown around, but he hardly paid any attention to them. His eyes were riveted to the horrifying scene, the smell of burning wood along with an unfamiliar scent froze him to the spot. It smells distinctly familiar though, reminding him of the aroma wafting around the kitchen whenever their cook roasted meats for dinner…
His stomach roiled.
The sickening image his mind conjured up was thankfully interrupted by Gibbs' words.
"Pirates!"
He looked at the man in shock, did pirates really do something this horrifying? Shaking his head to get rid of the thought, he chose to focus on the boy he found instead, who was now lying on the deck, alone and unattended. He jumped slightly as his father laid a hand on top of his shoulder and bent down to his eye level.
"Elijah, I want you to accompany the boy," his father let his eye linger on the unconscious lad, "He'll be in your charge. Take care of him."
Numbly, he nodded, and his father smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.
Norrington and a few other sailors set to the boats and rowed to the burning wreck, in the hope of finding more survivors other than the unknown boy.
They didn't find any.
Elijah stared at the still boy curiously, taking in every detail. He had dark hair, slightly tanned skin turned pale from the chilly seawater, and he seemed to come from a commoner's background, if the worn shirt and rough brown vest he wore were any indication. A pang of pity hit him, for the boy surely must have had a family member lost in the shipwreck. He extended a hand to brush away the matted hair sticking to the boy's forehead…
…and nearly yelped when the boy caught his wrist, gripping it with an almost bruising force. Forcing his erratic heartbeat to calm down, he tried to reassure the boy, "It's okay," he said softly, "My name's Elijah Swann."
The boy choked out in return, "W-Will Turner."
Elijah smiled, relieved that the boy seemed fine, "I'm watching over you, Will. You're safe now."
The boy, Will, could only let a flash of gratitude appear in his eyes before falling unconscious once again. Elijah smiled again, for the boy must be tired, before his eye caught sight of something under his shirt. Unable to curb his curiosity, he slid a hand to pull the object out, and it revealed itself as a medallion, attached to a chain.
Taking the medallion into his palm, Elijah studied it critically, brows furrowed in concentration as he struggled to identify it. It's made of gold, real gold judging by its weight (which was just odd, how did such a valuable item end up around the neck of a boy the likes of him?), and intricately carved designs were etched upon it. The most eye-catching carving on the medallion, however, was of a snarling human skull, right in the center of it. Elijah's eyes widened in recognition of the symbol, and he gasped out.
"You're a pirate!"
"Has he said anything?"
He nearly jumped at the sudden question. Hiding the medallion in his jacket pocket as he turned around to face Norrington, Elijah decided to lie through his teeth, "His name's William Turner. That's all I found out."
Elijah nearly sighed in relief as Norrington nodded distractedly—it seems that the man hadn't detected his lie—and stepped aside as the man ordered for the boy to be taken below. The medallion in his pocket seemed to weigh him down as he watched the boy being carried away.
Elijah was once again standing alone at the bow of the ship as it sailed away, leaving the wreckage behind. Slowly, he brought out the medallion taken from the mysterious Will Turner, and held it up. He continued to stare at the piece of gold, his mind troubled by the revelation of the boy's possible origin.
Give it back.
He looked away from the medallion as an uneasy feeling descended upon him. And he saw it.
Sailing away, just some distance from their own ship, was another.
Black sails and a flag emblazoned with crossbones.
His eyes snapped open.
A blond-haired young man sat up immediately in his bed, breathing harshly. Wiping his sweaty brow, his dark eyes immediately zeroed in on the drawer next to his bed. Memories of the night came back to him, clear and vivid, as though the dream was more than just a dream. The uneasy feeling persisted.
"I feel like…"
He quickly rummaged through the drawer, lifting an old, dusty book and revealing the item hidden beneath it. With slightly shaky hands, he picked it up.
"…something bad is going to happen."
The snarling skull carved on gold stared soullessly back into his eyes.