A/N: Thanks for the reviews so far... I know this chapter isn't exactly as long as it could be, but you won't believe the hard time I've had in making a start for this story. I've never experienced writers block until I started this story. Thanks for reading, trust me, i've got some great ideas coming. Please read and Review.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Pirates of the Caribbean or any of it's characters.

Said Tia Dalma,

"It was long ago. Long before the Black Pearl ever plundered. Long before Jack could ever be called captain."

"You see, we were all beginners in our trade, not a one of us knowin' what we were getting into. I was in tortuga when a ship sailed into the shore, it the most beautiful ship I'd ever seen in my life, " She smiled, as if she'd seen an angel, "And I had to get off that island. More than a childhood in the midst of crazy drunken inland men can take it's toll on a woman."

"I used to live on the outskirts of Tortuga, right by the sea. The Jack Sparrow I first met back then was far different than the Jack Sparrow you know today. Inexperienced, naïve, didn't know the sky from the sea on a clear day. And me, far younger than I am now, although age and years will not be mentioned here.

Davy Jones was a sailor, well known in his parts, but no one ever thought to tell poor Tia about him. Some people think he was a pub owner, some people don't know what they speak. He was a sailor. Already a heartbroken man, tortured by his past and haunted by his victims, no waters out there could hide him from every man he killed, screamin' in his ears all night. He was already cursed before we got on board, and even more cursed he is now with the weight of this woman.

And Tia Dalma began the story, putting the heart necklace down on the table before them all to see, and just as her listeners, she was swept back, taken away into her memory of their history.

She remembered herself a spontaneous young woman, no older than 18 years, when she first stepped aboard the Flying Dutchman. It was a cold dark night, colder than usual in those parts of the Caribbean, but then they always said it was colder whenever Davy Jones was nearby. Had she known the ship was under a curse, chances are she would have turned around and headed back to the drunken mess of a town.

The ship had gone through a wreck apparently, and were short of crew members. Or, another version of the story told that men mysteriously disappeared on board. It didn't matter to Tia Dalma what the first mate told her at the docks, she was determined to leave that island.

Among those who hopped aboard that night, one notorious for thieving and drinking also happened to enter the ship that night. One by the name of Jack Sparrow, who had not yet began his career as a pirate captain, but who had once shipped out with another crew off the coast of Cuba, and was found washed up on shore one morning from a shipwreck during the storm season.

Tia Dalma, dressed up like a man, her black hair piled up under her hat, trousers, shirt, and pistol, and frown, she blended in fine. Jack Sparrow, stood out like a sore thumb however, staggering up the ramp, nearly falling off either side on a number of occasions before miraculously making a landing on the deck. Following behind them were the rest of the newcomers.

Dalma thought it was strange that the ramp was kicked off into the water, rather than saved for further stops, but thought not to question it. Talking for her would remain to the rarest of occasion. She couldn't help but stare at this man, leaning against the cabin with two bottles in his hand, one completely empty and the other close to the same.

There was nothing to really say about the life she was leaving behind. She would not miss Tortuga. Her mother had died during childbirth, and her father raised her in a little cabin by the sea. If it were not for the witchdoctor who lived by the river, who she visited as much as she could, she would have grown up just like her father, useless and drunk. So she was literate enough to read the difference between a bottle of RUM and Port Wine. Her father would come home drunk every night until one night he didn't come home at all. His body was never found.

As a child she used to run away, and since there was no law in Tortuga, wouldn't return until she was good and ready. She hated that cabin. Every attempt to build a boat for herself, however, had failed, and life was only good until hunger struck her, and she found herself back home. Strangely enough, she never went to live with the witchdoctor, she was much happier to strike out on her own.

It was interesting enough to see how much flame actually consumed the island from a far distance. She remembered as a child watching the rings of smoke float up from the tree tops from the drunken massacre of the mainland activities. But now, all was gone, for she was the last of her small family to leave the island, and she hoped never to return. Turning around, Tia Dalma realized she knew nothing about the ship she had boarded, only that it was a passage off, and a ticket to freedom. Perhaps she would leave them at the next port, or the one after. There was a world of opportunity for her now, nothing would keep her in the same chains as life in Tortuga.

"Sold your soul, did ya?" she heard behind her. She turned around, careful not to reply, to see an old man in a tattered blouse and dark trousers. He smelled horrendously of sweat and alcohol. The same man turned to say the same thing to the man with the two bottles, only to receive a very awkward hand gesture, and a near slap in the face. The man with the bottles walked straight over to Tia Dalma, and frowned exaggeratingly at her,

"What did 'e say to you?" asked this Jack Sparrow, slurring over his intoxication.

Tia Dalma shook her head, perhaps she could get out of talking by pretending she didn't speak English. What good would that do? None. She chose to ignore him, turned around, and watched the flames of Tortuga disappear into the night.

"Alright then, …what might your name be,….NO!" that empty bottle fell over the edge, and he reached for it as if he'd just dropped his first born.

"It was empty." she said quietly.

"Ah… so the mute speaks after all. Tell me then, what be a boy so young doin' on the ship of Davy Jones?"

Dalma raised a brow. Davy Jones?

Jack's eyes widened in drunken surprise, "So that's why ye boarded. Poor chap don't know a thing about the mess 'e just got himself into."

Now she was curious. "Who is Davy Jones?" she asked, her voice significantly lowered in attempt to disguise herself.

Jack frowned, paused for a considerable amount of time to examine her appearance, then slowly with a voice of realization, said "Listen love, I"
Tia Dalma's eyes widened, "What d'you mean love?"

"Alright now, I'm no fool missy." he said. She sighed. How, in only an hours time, could this man possibly know she was a woman. "I know a woman when I see one." he grinned. She then slapped him hard along side the face, and scowled,

"You tell a soul and I'll see you over the edge." she threatened. Both his hands went up in defense

"Don't worry love," he said, already getting ideas, "More than one to know is one too many."

And Tia Dalma held in a scream as she saw the most frightening sight she'd ever seen in her entire life.

"Ah, Captain Davy Jones, was wonderin' when I'd run into you." Jack offered with false courtesy. Inside, he was feeling the same thing Tia Dalma was upon seeing the massive sea creature which stood before them both.