'ello loves! You haven't heard from me in awhile, and I apologize from the bottom of my filthy, black, weasly guts. My New Year's Resolution will be to update regularly! But, for now, enjoy and review. And Happy Holidays!

Chapter Two

Helena watched the closed door long after her mother left, still holding the worn book in her hands. Puzzled, she wondered what she had said to make her mother speak so... strangely... to her. Carefully untying the filthy green ribbon, she opened the book carefully, as if something was going to jump out at her. The pages, yellowed and worn, and stained with water and salt, crinkled under her fingertips, and the ink was fading to a brownish color, from what must have once been black.

Property of Anne Bonny, the first page proclaimed with neat, smooth writing, lacking the flourishes and twirls of most upper-class citizens. "Anne Bonny?" Helena said aloud, "Who's Anne Bonny, and why was this my birthday gift?" She flipped through the pages, trying to find something that would be of interest to her, when finally she put her finger down on a page and read.

I've been with child for many months now, staying in Nassau Port because I cannot attend to my duties on the ship. I'm afraid to have this child, afraid of what might happen to it. If it's a boy, Jack may accept him to work on the William, but if it's a girl, I shudder to think of what might befall her. It will be any day now, I'm sure of it. I pray to God, gods, anyone, that my child will be safe.

Anne Bonny

Helena furrowed her brow in thought. This woman sailed on a ship called the William, but who was Jack? She found that by actually reading an entry in this 'journal', she was left with even more questions than when she began. As she turned the page to see what happened to Anne's baby, there was a sharp knock at the door.

"Miss Helena? Your mother sent me to come and retrieve you. Your ball has been going on for a couple of hours now, and you haven't showed up," Cat said icily. "I'm coming," Helena shot back hurriedly, tucking the book into her bodice and checking her hair in the mirror on her wall. She didn't want anyone reading what she had rapidly come to think of as her book. It was her birthday gift, after all.

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Helena floated down the grand staircase of her home, smiling prettily at the young men, ignoring the heated, scornful gazes from the other girls. She knew that their mothers had forced them to come, in attempt to find suitors. They would not have come if it hadn't been for potential suitors, fine young men from the British Navy, for they weren't fond of Helena at all. In fact, she hardly had any friends to speak of.

As she was coming down the stairs, Helena spotted a couple, deeply involved in conversation, by the stairs. She had heard of them, a newly married couple, married quickly after returning from a trip at sea. She'd only heard snippets and bits of conversations here and there, but what she had heard was that there had been a scandal at sea, involving piracy and a man that Helena was sure didn't exist: Davy Jones. She had scoffed at the stories, tossing them off as rubbish, but her mother had smiled, especially at some particular part of the story she didn't care to remember. Elizabeth and William Turner were their names. Elizabeth was once a member of high society, a young woman filled with class, but after returning, she had been different. More liberal, free-thinking. And why she had gotten involved with William Turner, a blacksmith of all things, Helena couldn't fathom.

After several dances with young men, some that were handsome and some that were... average... looking, some terrible dancers, and some that nearly swept her off her feet, Helena went to the French doors that opened onto the terrace, hoping for some of the cool night air. She stepped out, gazing at the moon glinting off the Caribbean water, and felt something stir, deep down. She frowned, and looked out into the sea once more, but it was still there. Shaking her head, she walked off the terrace, and into the night.

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Jack Sparrow sat at a bar in Port Royal, Jamaica, drowning himself in rum, as usual. The World's End had been traveled, the heart of Davy Jones reclaimed and, after much argument, trials and tribulations, had been stabbed, killing Jones and releasing all of his crewmembers from bondage, sinking the Flying Dutchman into the depths. And now? Now, Jack had come back for Lizzie, only to find her married off to the eunuch. "Figures," he mumbled. He was down on his luck, low on gold, and his crew was getting restless. The Pearl was in need of serious repairs, and he needed money, quickly.

Which was why he had done the desperate, that no self-respecting pirate ever wants to do: he sent his crew out to kidnap an unsuspecting lady of high class, and hold her for ransom. Granted, he wouldn't harm her, he wasn't that kind, but he wasn't going to treat her like a little princess either. "Blast Davy Jones," he muttered, and started on another bottle of rum.

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Walking along the streets of Port Royal with nightfall as her cloak, Helena ran into very few people, mostly members of the Navy, going about their watches and the like. Her slippered feet seemed to develop a mind of their own, as she made her way through a maze of streets and alleyways, only to find herself at the docks.

She stood as close to the water as she dared, breathing in the salty scent and watching the waves crash against the shoreline, never skipping a beat, never faltering. She hadn't been on an ship in her life that she'd remembered, though perhaps she'd been on one before she was adopted. She figured as much, for she'd always liked the sea. It was unpredictable, calm and pretty, and the next moment turbulent and fierce. She watched as the waves slapped up on the sand, splaying their foam about. She, unlike Mrs. Turner, nee Swann, had never felt the urge to go sailing, and in fact, she was fearful of ships. And unlike Elizabeth, she was extremely satisfied with her comfortable, predictable lifestyle, sated with the fact that she'd one day marry wealthy, and probably have several children of her own.

The footsteps came so suddenly, so quickly, that she hardly had time to turn around and see who it was. She smelled something awful, and then arms came around her, not giving her enough time to defend herself, not that she could have anyway. There was a laugh, one that was rough and gravelly, and then an intense pain in the back of her head as she slumped over, falling into unconsciousness.

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Pintel and Ragetti scurried through backstreets and alleys of Port Royal with a young woman in their arms, slung between them, unconscious. She had a gash in the back of her head, and her skin was a pale, ashen tone. "Wha' if she doesn't wake up?" Ragetti questioned his partner. "Ahh.. then Captain will deal wif it," he frowned. They hurried, careful as to not be spotted by any members of the King's Navy, and half-ran into a bar, the Foxhole.

There, in the back corner at a table in the shadows, sat Captain Jack Sparrow, slightly lucid, surrounded by bottles of rum. He looked up, as if surprised to see the two members of his crew, but then his eyes widened when he saw the young woman's limp form hanging between them. "I though' I told ye not ta' kill 'er. We be holdin' 'er fer ransom, I don't need 'er dead," he said, slurring drunkenly. As Pintel and Ragetti struggled to explain themselves, Captain Jack stood, though unsteadily, and swaggered over to the body slung between theirs. He examined her face, it looked somewhat familiar, but then again, didn't all faces look somewhat familiar to him? After confirming that she was, indeed, a member of the higher class of society and would most likely be offered a ransom for, he slung her over his shoulder, and together with Pintel and Ragetti, made his way to the Black Pearl, who was flying white sails and a British flag, by way of disguise.

He spun around awkwardly, partly due to the body slung over his shoulder, and addressed his two crewmembers. "Round up tha' rest of tha' crew. We need ta' set sail righ' away, or else we'll be caught." The two men scurried off to do his bidding, and he continued on his way from the docks up to his precious ship.

His Pearl. It had been horrid, living in the belly of the Kraken, knowing that she was at the bottom of the ocean, sunken into the depths in pieces. He had thought that once he got her back, and maybe with Lizzie by his side, he could finally sail into the horizon. Now he realized that that fantasy was only the side effects of overindulging in rum, which he hardly did. Lizzie was married, the Pearl was in a sorry state, and he was now saddled with this little rich prat until her parents offered up money.

Jack Sparrow made his way down to the brig, set the girl down, still unconscious, none too gently, and slammed the cell door, making sure to lock it. With that, he climbed back up to his cabin, and, placing his hat carefully on the bedpost and removing his effects, flopped into bed.

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So... what did you all think? If you enjoyed it, or even if you didn't, review and let me know. Anonymous reviews are fine by me, just let me know what you thought!

Happy Holidays everyone!

Yours,

--Ella.

Captain Ella Raven.