Disclaimer: Most of the characters belong to Disney, unless they are original, and then they are mine.

Chapter 3

The day passed as it so often did, and Naida's strength revived slowly but surely, until she was back to her usual self, working away quietly in the background, mainly unnoticed. In the evening, the dice tables were pulled out and men sat down to gamble. Naida shook her head, quietly despairing. She never gambled, she had been taught that it was wrong, and she still stuck to her morals, however rare they were on the Flying Dutchman.

Will was watching how the game was played. She joined him, and he turned his head slightly, acknowledging her presence. She nodded back, finding something comforting in the easy silence that passed between the two as they watched the game being played. Will followed not missing a trick, whilst Naida watched Will, as he frowned in puzzlement, before he finally understood.

"Wondering how it's played?" Bootstrap asked his son as he joined the pair.

"I understand," Will answered, "It's a game of deception. But your bet includes all your dice, not just your own. What are they wagering?"

"The only thing we have. Years of service," Bootstrap answered.

"So, any crew member can be challenged?" Will asked, turning to his father.

"Aye. Anyone," Bootstrap answered.

"I challenge Davy Jones," Will answered, standing there.

Naida gasped and everyone around Will turned to look at him. She was struck by how silly the idea was, challenging Davy Jones. Was he mad? Naida looked at him expectantly; as he met her gaze he just shrugged. All the rest of the crew were laughing, and the melodic strains of the organ that had been playing was cut off sharply. Bootstrap looked to his son, worried for him, whilst Naida looked to Davy Jones, who had appeared.

"I accept, mate," Davy Jones answered the challenge.

"Are you mad?" Naida demanded of Will as he was led away.

A rough wooden box was placed on deck, and a piece of wood with raised edges was set on it. There were two more boxes for the contestants, one of which Will was forced down onto. Faced with the finality of the situation, Naida forced herself to watch, although she could hardly bear it. She was worried for Will, she wasn't going to lie to herself, but this was his folly and win or loose he would have to face the consequences.

"The stakes?" Davy Jones enquired.

"My soul. An eternity of servitude," Will answered, making Naida gasp again, the man really was mad!

"No!" Bootstrap exclaimed from his place.

"Against?" Davy Jones asked.

"I want this," Will answered, tossing down a piece of cloth on the table.

Naida thought Will had really lost his mind at that point. Davy Jones looked at the piece of cloth, seemingly unconcerned; not really knowing what was on it. A whispered gasp ran through the crowd as Davy Jones realised what was on the paper, and a look of anger flickered over his face. He threw the piece of cloth down onto the table before turning to Will.

"How do you know of the key?" he asked.

"That's not part of the game, is it?" Will answered enigmatically, "You can still walk away," he said as he seated himself, confident.

Davy Jones made some barely perceptible motion, before slowly sinking down to sit at the opposite side of the gaming board. Once seated he reached within his tentacles and pulled out the key. Naida frowned when she saw it, all this fuss, over a simple key? Placing the key back Jones placed his dice in his cup, and Will did the same. The dice were about to be cast, the game was about to begin. As the cups were placed on the board an extra cup was turned.

"What's this?" Davy Jones demanded.

"I'm in, matching his wager," Bootstrap explained, nodding to Will.

"No! Don't do this!" Will exclaimed, almost begging his father.

"They've all gone mad, completely mad," Naida said to herself from her vantage point.

"The die is cast," Bootstrap explained, "I bid three twos."

As the game went on Naida scarcely found herself paying any attention to it. The look on Will's face had been enough, she knew he had a plan, and it had not involved his father, at least not to begin with. Suddenly, before she knew it the game was over, and Will had lost. Naida felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, as she watched the game being played out in front of her. She closed her eyes, and held in the tears of pity which she were sure were going to come for William Turner, doomed to serve an eternity aboard the Flying Dutchman.

"Welcome to the crew, lad," Davy Jones answered Will, laughing slightly.

"Twelve fives," Bootstrap jumped in, "Twelve fives." He repeated when everyone looked at him expectantly, "Call me a liar, or up the bid."

"And be called a liar myself for the trouble?" Davy Jones demanded, before lifting Bootstrap's cup. "Bootstrap Bill, you're a liar and will spend an eternity on this ship."

"Master Turner, feel free to go ashore, the very next time we make port!" Davy Jones exclaimed, turning to Will to much ribald laughter.

"Fool, why did you do that?" Will demanded once everyone had left.

"I couldn't let you loose," Bootstrap answered sadly.

"It was never about winning or losing."

"The key. You just wanted to know where it was."

Naida turned away suddenly. Tears filled her eyes as she thought of her father. She knew he was in prison, perhaps even dead. But that was not how she thought of him. She thought of him very much alive, as he was the last time he saw of her. She hoped he would be proud of her, and yet somehow doubted he would be, she who had given up something of her soul just to survive on the Flying Dutchman.

"Naida," Will answered, catching her elbow as she turned to walk off, "I know your story, my father told it to me."

"Did he?" Naida asked, looking to him, "I'm glad, I wouldn't have been able to tell you myself."

"Come with me," Will commanded.

"Where?" Naida asked, puzzled.

"Off this ship," Will answered her.

"No Will, I can't," Naida answered, freeing her arm.

"Why not?" Will asked now it was his turn to be puzzled.

"Did your father tell you, that I'm cursed Will? To go with you would be signing your death warrant," Naida answered, feigning anger, before she walked away.

As she walked back to her cabin below decks Naida let the tears fall from her eyes. She wanted to go, she wanted to escape really, but she had meant every word. She was cursed, it was true. Her great-great-grandmother on her father's side had cursed her female descendants so that every man they ever loved would die a horrible death. This was the same grandmother who was aboard the Dutchman, and who loved to lord it all over Naida, as ship's whore.

That still didn't explain Naida's reluctance to escape with Will. There were many reasons she could think of, not least that she was scared how the world would have changed since she was gone. Ten years old she had been, and now she was a woman, scarred by what she had seen and what she had experienced. That was not it, not the main reason. She was afraid.

Afraid of falling in love. What it would mean, for both her and Will. He was a good kind man, who had just lost his fiancée. He did not need another love, not so soon anyway. And if she admitted it to herself she was afraid of the feelings she had felt stirring in her when she was near Will. She did not trust herself, and if she were to fall in love with him, he would die. No one had ever found a way to break that curse, and Naida did not wish to send a good man to his death.

Back inside her cabin Naida sat, sobbing into her hands. When had it all gone so horribly, horribly wrong? If only Will had not been sent aboard the ship. Jack Sparrow, he was the cause of all of her problems, and yet she couldn't hate him for it, not really. He didn't know what it was like aboard the Dutchman, how could he even know what it was like? No, she hated her great grandmother, for cursing her and ruining her one chance of escape, of happiness.

A knock at the door startled Naida, and she strode to the door, wiping her eyes quickly so whoever it was wouldn't see she had been crying. Opening the door she saw her great-great-grandmother standing there, smiling innocently. In her hands was a cup, which was steaming. Within was a dark red liquid, which Naida almost thought was blood, but thought better of it, Annabelle was not that bloodthirsty, was she?

"What do you want, I'm tired and I still have two days until I can sleep," Naida answered curtly.

"I got you off that, it wasn't your fault after all," Annabelle answered, stepping into the cabin.

"I am assuming this comes with a price."

"Cannot a woman look after one of her grandchildren now?"

"You, family minded? Please tell me something that would surprise me," Naida answered sarcastically.

"Now, now, I just brought you a drink of nice mulled wine," Annabelle offered up the drink.

Naida took the drink, frowning. She smelt it, and it smelt very much like mulled wine. Naida barely wondered how Annabelle managed to mull wine on a ship, that offered little comforts, but all questions soon passed away as she tasted the wine. It was like what she had been given on cold days to keep out the chill, and reminded her of her childhood.

"Now place the cup down and come and sit before your mirror and I shall brush your hair before you sleep," Annabelle commanded as she led a now docile Naida by the hand.

As the brush was pulled through her dark tresses she reflected on suddenly how tired she felt, it was strange, she had not felt this a few moments ago. It was something in the wine she realised with a start. She struggled to fight it, but it was pulling her under like the tide. She could only watch as her grandmother brushed her hair, as her mother had once done, commenting on how pretty she was.

"My but you would turn heads, if any heads could see you now. But you'd need a bath, and to be dressed nicely," Annabelle sighed more to herself, "If only there were some way to keep properly clean aboard this ship."

"You'd have found it by now," Naida murmured sleepily.

"Now, now, no more sharp words. Its time for you to sleep, and sleep well," Annabelle commanded, leading her relation to her bed.

Gratefully the young woman sank down into her bed. She could not remember a time when she had felt this safe or loved. Even though she knew this was all a front, she allowed herself to play along, at least for a while, and slowly she sank into sleep. She was aware of footsteps moving around when there should be none, everyone should be sleeping, so why were there the footsteps of mice moving around?

Annabelle smiled as she watched Naida drift into sleep. The older woman knew what she was doing, she had overheard young Master Turner's wish to leave the ship, and she knew that her grand-daughter wanted to leave. Of course, she had put a brave face on it, telling him she would not go, but the desire to leave was still there. And that, above all, was what Annabelle could not let happen. Not when her final triumph was so near. Then she could kill the girl and have done with it.

What was it her husband had said to her, as she lay on the floor after he'd beaten her? Would you be free of me? You would sooner rip out your own heart. And Annabelle had, she had turned what had once been love for her husband into hatred. She had killed him, in the end, and her daughters had hated her for it. They had been the one joy in her existence, until they turned around and ripped what was left of her still beating heart out.

And yet still she loved them. Because she loved them so she cursed them, so that all their loves would die. Then they would not know the pain that she had known. Their husbands would not turn to drink, and beat them and their children. They were destined to die instead, horrible painful deaths, that left no doubt in anyone's minds that they were truly gone, passed on from this earth.

Yet her daughters had hated her, still for that. They missed their husbands, bemoaned their loss, not knowing how lucky they were to escape their fates. So Annabelle had turned from them. But her youngest daughter came to her, to force her to release them from this curse. As Annabelle crushed the life from her miserable throat words had poured from her mouth, words that to this day scared Annabelle.

"One shall come, and she will defeat you. You will do everything you can to stop her, to keep the curse moving down the generations. But you will fail. Because the one thing that you cannot understand as you once did is that love is the greatest power of all, and it can drive people to the most desperate of measures."

It had scared Annabelle. Now, she had kept Naida by her side, knowing she was the one of who her daughter had spoken. And how much the two were alike, with their stubbornness, and their fire and passion. Annabelle admired Naida, the way she had endured so many years on the ship, years which were meant to have killed her. But she had survived, now, and soon she would have to die, to stop the prophecy from coming true.

Annabelle started when she heard footsteps. Of course, that fool boy was coming to try and rouse his fair maiden from her bed, so he could rescue her from her tower. Smiling to herself she quickly wound her way back to her cabin, before throwing her mind back to the room in which Naida lay, still sleeping soundly.

"Naida, Naida," Will was trying to wake her, although Annabelle knew nothing would wake her, not until the drug wore off anyway.

A hurt look flickered across the boy's face when he realised that Naida was not waking for him. Annabelle almost laughed in delight as she realised how well it was working. Perhaps too well…Will frowned as he picked up the wine, which Annabelle had forgotten to remove. Sniffing it Will shook his head, before leaving the room, there was no more time.

"Yes, go Master Turner, in case you miss the tide," Annabelle muttered to herself before cackling, "If it has not already run out for you!"

Author's note: So here we are. I hope you are enjoying, and any feedback would be appreciated.