As always, disclaimers on the first chapter!
Yes, yes, I know! Three chapters before Jack even comes in on the story. Of course, I'm not sure if anyone's complaining or grumbling. You readers have been rather quiet. This author commentary area gets far more entertaining when y'all comment! I promise! :D
Chess
Maren sighed and sat down in her usual chair. She picked up an ivory bishop and rolled it in her fingers before putting it back in its place. For too long she had been on this ship, and she was tired of the games that came with it. As she waited for the sound of Jones' approach, she looked around the room. The cabin was dark, almost misty. She strained her eyes a bit to see the blackened barnacles that decorated the walls and ceiling. Restless, she stood up again and made her way over to the large organ that blocked the large window. She ran her hands lightly over the old and worn keys of the top row until she came to the other end. Her brow furrowed as she looked at the odd locket that rested on the side of the organ.
It was heart-shaped and dark with age, and made of some sort of metal that seemed to resist the cruelties of the salty air. A face seemed to try to push its way out of the front of the locket. After picking up the dark metal-grey object in her hands and running her fingers over the face of it, she felt something stir in the back of her mind as if it were trying to break free. She needed to remember what the significance of this object was, but for some reason could not.
Thunk, step…thunk, step…thunk, step…
Maren quickly placed the locket back down and turned around just as Davy Jones entered. The seemingly permanent scowl on Jones' face appeared to be more deeply etched as he looked at the woman on the other side of the room near his precious instrument. Maren felt her breath catch in her throat before she looked away from the Captain and made her way back to her seat by the chess board. She pulled the chair close to the table and looked back to Jones again.
After a moment's hesitation, Jones took up his spot across from Maren. "No terms again, I imagine."
"My freedom."
Jones paused in mid-motion of moving his first piece, shock poorly hidden in his eyes. "I beg your pardon?"
"I want off this wretched ship, Jones. I made no deals like the men of your crew did. I'm being kept here as your pet, aren't I?"
Jones placed his pawn back in its original position, anger at the accusation burning in his cold blue eyes. Maren kept her eyes locked with his, as if she dared him to try something with her. She had no idea what she would do if he took her dare, but she felt it was too late to back down.
"What do I get when I win?"
Maren knew that she had nothing to bargain with. She looked away, feeling defeated in her attempt to get off of the Flying Dutchman. When she turned her gaze back to Jones, she saw a hunger in his eyes. She felt a wave of fear wash over her, leaving her numb and tingling all at the same time. Suddenly, she knew what Jones would want should he win.
"When I win, I want things to stay as they are, for a hundred decades hence."
Maren's brow furrowed. "Exactly as they are? Nothing more, nothing less?"
Jones nodded as he spoke, "Exactly as they are." He picked up his pawn again and made his move.
* * * *
"Check and mate!"
While being played, the game seemed to have gone on forever. Then, in a sudden moment of clarity, it was over. Maren thought she heard her voice echo the words over and over again, filling the cabin with noise. She was too shocked to see that she had won to notice that Davy Jones had the same look of disbelief on his own face. The chess board disappeared when she took a moment to rub her eyes, to make sure that she was seeing it all clearly.
Jones overcame his disbelief first. His beard and mustache of tentacles writhed with agitation that his facial expression easily hid. His head jerked up to look at Maren, then back to the chess board, and back again to Maren. His lobster claw shut with a loud clack and his right hand clenched into a fist, the tentacle of his index finger wrapping itself tightly around his wrist. With a violent shove, he pushed himself away from the empty table and stood up.
"Well, Lady de Fae, it seems you are free to go as you please." A cruel smile appeared on Jones' face. "How about the next time we make port?"
Maren opened her mouth to retort, but Jones had transported her out to the main deck. She looked around at the crew, all somehow aware of Jones' defeat already. She cursed herself mentally for not specifying to be dropped off near some port town as well.
* * * *
It took Maren some getting used to, not seeing Jones every night. In some strange way, she started to miss the nightly games, but not enough to go back to it. The more she thought about it, it was less that she was missing spending time with Jones as it was that she missed his intellect. The crew had very carefully trained themselves to stay away from "Jones' girl." She didn't have a name on the Flying Dutchman; she was just Jones' chess partner, Jones' toy, Jones' property. She sneered at that thought, and suddenly missed the games just a little less.
A wave caused the ship to lurch from underneath Maren, and she stumbled a bit on the swaying deck. She reached out to catch herself on the railing, but missed and fell. It seemed to amuse the crew, because she heard their laughter before she managed to lift herself to her knees. She scowled at the men around her and lifted herself from her knees to her feet, gripping the railing tight enough to turn her knuckles white. She had done had enough, and when the deck settled, she marched herself straight for Jones' quarters.
* * * *
Davy Jones stared coldly at the pirate that stood before him as he fingered his music box locket like a worry-stone. "What's in it for me?"
The pirate grinned, a few gold teeth glinting in the eerie and pale light in the cabin. "How about a cut of me profit, mate?"
Jones shook his head, causing his beard of tentacles to sway with the motion. "Not good enough, mate-tah. Me favors call for something of more…value."
The pirate tilted his head, causing his thick dreadlocks to hang to one side. "What do ye have in mind?"
"There's a chest, rumored to be cursed, if'n ye believe such nonsense. I want it. I'll raise your precious Pearl to give ye a ship to fetch it for me. And as collateral, I lay claim to yer immortal soul until ye get me that chest, no later than thirteen years hence."
The pirate paused as he thought that deal over.
"Too much for ye, Jack Sparrow?" Jones grinned.
Jack glanced to Jones and sniffed then straightened himself. "Of course not! I accept."
At that moment, the door of his cabin swung open and Maren stormed in, looking both embarrassed and angry at the same time. Jones scowled at the woman, the pirate momentarily forgotten. "What are ye doing in here?!"
"You. Me. Talk. Now!" Maren held Jones' gaze, ignoring the appraising look of the other man in the room.
"Aye, an' who's this bonnie lass?" Jack said with a mischievous grin while his eyes drank in the sight of Maren.
Maren looked at Jack like she had only just then noticed him, and it was as if he was horse dung carelessly flung onto her shoe. From the top of his ratty old tricorne hat down to his worn boots and back up to his dirty coat, Jack Sparrow was the physical embodiment of pirates. With a wrinkle of her nose, Maren noted that his smell was, too.
Jerking his head towards Jack, Jones locked his icy gaze on the other men. "Ye best be leavin' Maren alone."
Jack smiled, his eyes still on Maren, while Jones scowled at him. Maren turned away from the pirate and put her full attention on Jones instead.
"I want a way off of this ship, Jones. I've earned my freedom, now give it to me."
Jones ripped his hateful gaze from Jack and turned it towards Maren. "I already said—"
"Do you need passage, luv?"
Both Maren and Jones turned their heads towards Jack. It was Maren who broke the short silence that followed Jack's interruption. "At what cost?"
Jack shrugged with a grin. "I'm sure we could work out some sort of bargain once we get on me ship!"
* * * *
Jones was in a daze when he walked Jack and Maren out. He would never forget Maren's awed expression when he raised Jack's precious Black Pearl from the dark depths of the sea. He was not able to watch as they crossed the gang plank from the Dutchman to the Pearl. Instead, he went back to his cabin and sat on the bench to his organ. Jones couldn't bring himself to play his beloved instrument, though. Where Maren was once his muse, she was now the thing that hindered his tentacles from calling the notes from the instrument.
He heard the waves splashing against the hull of the Dutchman, but the waves seemed louder against the Pearl, as if they were pushing the other ship and taking Maren away from him that much faster. All Jones could bring himself to do was stare blindly at the organ pipes. The pain was just too much for him. He thought that Maren had warmed to him, had remembered him, and would stay. His lower lip quivered with the tears he was fighting back.
Davy Jones would sit at his organ for days, never playing it. He would just stare at the pipes as if he expected them to start singing on their own. Any crew member who tried to stir him from his quarters would have been greeted with complete silence from their captain. Until one night, they heard a terrible scream come from his cabin.
The first mate rushed into Davy Jones' quarters, drawn by the almost banshee-like wailing. The rest of the crew gathered at the door, hoping it was minimum safe distance. Jones had finally moved from his organ. He was standing over the table that used to be home to the chess board that Jones and Maren played on.
Jones had shrugged off his coat and ripped open his tunic. In his hand was an old blade that looked like Jones had fished it straight from the sea that morning. It was rusty, dull, and encrusted with residue from the sea. He plunged the blade into his chest, and let out another wail of pain. The crew watched in horror as Jones cut out his own heart, leaving a fist-sized hole in his chest. Jones was sobbing as he gently placed the heart in a small chest and closed the lid. The captain's tears dried up before the chest locked itself and Jones tucked the key away into the fresh wound in his chest.
