Ten Years at Sea
A/N: Here it is, a tiny story about Davy Jones. I don't own any of this, but you probably already knew that. Oh, and the language that Calypso speaks when she's being freed in At World's End is French Creole. I couldn't find it anywhere on the internet so I had to settle for using plain old French instead.
Caution: If you came here seeking a happy story, turn back now. If not, please proceed...
"Ten years at sea and then we will be together. Always."
Always.
Always…
"Ten years I devoted to the duty you charged me. Ten years I looked after those who died at sea. And finally, when we could be together again, you weren't there."
Weren't there…never there. Liar, traitor, wretch!
Dried flowers, he hurled into the sea, love letters, he tore to shreds. The beast was rising within him, burning, searing, snarling its rage. His whole body shook, quivered, he had to place a hand on the wall to support himself. Had to close his eyes against the grief, oh, such imaginable grief and the fury that burned it away.
You used me. Used me to do a job you could not do. Changed me, made me into…this! A claw thudded heavily to the table. Tentacles writhed, always writhed, across his face like drowsy serpents.
I do not regret binding you, Calypso. I do not regret…betraying you.
One day ashore. Twenty years after he'd first been given the burden. Ten since she had left him. He'd revealed himself to the first Brethren Court, had summoned them to Shipwreck Cove.
"You dare? You DARE?! I am the master of these seas and none but my power can rule them! La mort a ceux qui voudraient essayer!" She thrashed against her captors. He had stayed hidden. Had watched her struggles. She had not seen him.
"The rule of the seas," said the Pirate Lord of the Caspian, "now belongs to men."
The nine pieces of eight, brought forward. His idea. The torch. The first Pirate King, ruler of the Mediterranean. A step forward. "Calypso." I whisper, a mere thought. "I bind you in this human form."
She'd screamed then. A horrible wailing. A cry of despair. He had looked away. The guilt ate at him, choked his heart. A gnawing in his chest, a growing worm that grew and grew and became the beast.
"Toi qui me faire ça je vais avoir mon paiement." A pitiful whisper. He knew what it meant. "You who would do this to me, I vow my vengeance."
The music was all he had left now that could calm the beast. The deep, resonating tones from the pipes, those old crusty keys. An outlet for his soul. Hours, he'd sat at the organ, gently running his tentacles up and down the whites and blacks, his feet working the pedals. A descending, mournful melody.
His heart ached. Throbbed. His chest heaved with the tears that had long run dry. A knife, gripped firmly in one hand. A hand that was already thickening with slime. He forced himself to stare at it, stare at the way the fingers had bloated, the middle already elongating. It didn't hurt. Yet he hated it just the same. All her fault. Betrayer. Betray the betrayer. Now all he felt was…hollow. Empty. Just a lifeless husk.
He braced himself. Pointed the tip of the knife at his chest. Felt his heart thudding wildly. A wooden chest lay at his feet. The key, he gripped in a hand beginning to harden and lose shape.
Had to be done. It…it had to be done.
The knife bit deep. The key clattered to the floor.
He screamed.
Creaking, all around him. The Flying Dutchman responding to his distress. His memories. I do not regret you. His ship. She, the only constant in this storm. The one who had not betrayed him.
So long, it had been. So hard.
"I defy you, Calypso!" Thunder. Lightning. A storm, a raging storm and all because of him, because of his rage, because of his grief, centering on the plagued ship, a storm throughout the living world and the next. "I care nothing for the souls you have charged me with! NOTHING! And I will sail the seas for all eternity if that is what it takes, but I will not bend to your will!"
The transformation nearly complete. His heart, gone. The beast roaring. Nothing but him and the sea and the deck beneath his feet.
"I will not do as you wish." Exhaustion tore at his throat. "I will not." The pain still throbbed. The pain from the betrayal and from his own treacherous actions and from the scar etched in his chest and for the goddess he had sworn his life to and oh, how it hurt.
He collapsed to the deck where he remained for a very long time.
A hardening of his soul. Layer upon layer upon layer of defenses, all of them put up to protect him from the pain, from the loss. An intricate façade so that nobody would ever know, so that nobody might ever see him on the inside, see his past, his memories through his tear-reddened eyes, that they might fear him. That was what he needed. Their fear. It kept the beast satisfied. It kept away the awful loneliness.
"I will return for you." A hand lifted, gently caressing her face.
"I know you will." Her hand covering his. A sad smile. "Ten years at sea and then we will be together. Always."
His last glimpse of land before the sails caught the wind and carried him across the sea. Before the Green Flash took him away. His last thought was of her.
He wished he could forget. Forget the feel of her skin, the look in her eyes, the sound of her voice. Wished he could forget all that hurt him. If he could just forget, he need not deal with the agony of it, need not deal with the beast within.
She was gone. She had betrayed him. Ten years at sea, one day ashore. He had honored his part of it. He had returned to land. Her figure did not stand out against the sky, her footprints did not grace the sand. Her voice did not welcome him home.
Ten years at sea, one day ashore.
Eternity at sea.
Her remaining letter, a constant reminder. He'd stopped himself from ripping it apart. He hated to read it, but read it he did.
"I will wait for you, my love. I will wait until the end of time for you to return to me. And when you do, we will never be apart and together, we can be happy. This, I promise you.
"With undying love,
"Calypso."