Authors Note: Yeah sorry again for taking soo damn long! But I do unfortunately have a life and must fulfil my needs and greet expectations set of me. Haha, yeah right!

Disclaimer: I do not own POTC, but I really wish I could have been in the films! I would have been awesum!

Thanks to:Merelyn Cross, Abigail Tracy, Evangeline Crystal, Sophie Mcdoodlepants, djgirl911, NutshellSparrow, Sam, M, LORI and Jessica Elfen!

I'd also like to thank everyone who subscribed/added me! It makes writing really worthwhile! :P

Keep on writing!

Yours sincerely,

The Red Crayon


Previously in the story...

Trying to think of the best game plan I spun in a circle studying the alley. On the right I could see more trees and bushes going toward a jungle type scene. There would be little shelter there. Turning the other way, I could see a row of shops a little way down and some taverns. I started to walk towards them and with the motion I noticed a strand of wet blonde hair falling into my face. Strange...I had brownie/gingery hair that went black when it was wet...unless...no...oh my god...

Taverns, Spit and Gordon Tracy

Lilly's POV

I stood there motionless staring at the small strand of hair slicked against my brow. A small droplet of water travelled down the strand and trickled coldly down my exposed top. I narrowed my eyes squinting at the colour. I was surprisingly composed for being in such a strange place with completely different hair. I can't say it wasn't an improvement but I was still shocked. With an air of good judgement I concluded...I AM IN PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN!

With different hair.

However, judging by the smoothness of the strand, I had great hair in this world. This must mean I am, altogether, better looking, and most likely going to be joining Mr Sparrow in all his endeavours.

Hopefully.

But being female, I am eager to look my best; so, glancing down at my attire, I made sure I wasn't dressed strangely to the climate. I was, surprisingly, still wearing my pirate garb from the sleepover, but it looked more authentic. I lifted up the corner of the lapel and sniffed. PHHWRR it was definitely authentic. It stank!

"Great! I get to walk round Port Royal stinking of unwashed men, smoke and ale. Then, meet my hero! Still. Smelling. Bad." I grumbled openly to myself.

As today wasn't getting much better, I pondered on the weathers outcome. I thought weather in the Caribbean would be more...Caribbean-ny...Not raining and windy. Although it makes more sense that ships would dock here.

Well standing here was evidently doing nothing, so (putting on my brave face), I carried on striding forward after my drawn out pause. I strolled along to the end of the alleyway. I looked more closely at each tavern to decide which would be the best. All of them seemed down trod and broken. One of them even had a shutter hanging off the broken window. The other, my choice destination, was a crumbling wooden structure, with a spacious front porch and two small murky windows which let in no light. The door was made from some kind of green or mouldy wood and was shut snugly against the door frame. The roof was made from slates of wood and was a horrible brown colour with various patches of disrepair and bird faeces.

Lovely.

So, hoping no-one would see me, I ran towards it. Skidding slightly in the mud, as I jumped lightly onto the raised porch, I turned around to survey all who might have noticed me sprinting. Seeing no-one, I quickly opened the door to the shabby tavern labelled, 'God's Cutlass'.

Little did I know what was in store for me, on this fine Caribbean day.


Ellie's POV

"Ok. OKAY! I just need to calm down!" I told myself repeatedly. I took in my surroundings. The room was large with 3 huge Georgian windows, two on the wall to my left, and one on the wall behind the bed, of which, was in the corner of the room, in sight of the door. A dresser covered the wall in-between the two windows and a dark wood wardrobe was adjacent the door.

I surveyed the room once again, hoping that it had changed ever so slightly.

It hadn't.

I definitely was confused! But I needed to get to grips with everything. I stood up from the bed and got into my thinking stance, by standing at the foot of the bed on my tiptoes with my hands on my hips.

"What would Gordon Tracy do?" I asked myself closing my eyes lightly.

Well, the obvious answer would be, he would crack a load of pointless jokes about anything, and then probably swim away from wherever he is, or use Thunderbird 4.

Problems: I wasn't funny. I don't know where I am, therefore, I can't swim away and finally, I do not own Thunderbird 4 and need to stop telling people otherwise.

So...plan B! I sing my way out!

Phantom of the Opera don't fail me now!

"Think of meeee, think of me fooonnndddllllyyy!" I trill.

I stop as I realise what I'm doing.

Plonking myself down on the bed I sighed. This was not going well. I was back at the start position. Completely lost as to what to do with myself.

So, instead, I looked down at my attire. I was clothed in a frilly pink nightgown with roses embroidered up the side and I was wearing long stockings with ribbons coming off the tops. This was helping nothing, but judging by the strange clothes, I was in about the 1600's. Also someone must have dressed me. I shuddered at the thought. But, as I recalled my dream, I couldn't help but think it was somehow linked to where I was.

My thinking pose wouldn't help me now so I walked to the window and stared out.

The place looked familiar but I couldn't quite place it. Lucky me to get stuck here, I could be in prison for all I know. Why, oh why did I do that stupid spell?

Speaking of stupid, where the hell was Lilly? Surely she was sent here too! Unless the spell only applied to me! Now I was stuck here. But Lilly was also doing the spell, so even though she didn't initiate it, she might be here too! Maybe if I keep looking out the window I might see her...

All I could see was a town, with a market, filled with people selling all sorts of goods, the docks with many huge ships, the sun, a few mountains and a small jungle. People dotted around the landscape and a hubbub of voices reached my ears.

I stared intently out of the window for some time, noticing a bug on the other side. Leaning back, I caught the light at the right angle and looked my reflection. I didn't look like me, I had changed. I screamed again. Loud.

However, this time I was heard.

Hurried footsteps rushed outside my door as I scrambled for the bed, tripping on the rug and over my feet as I did so. Launching myself at the bed I slid under the covers as the door slowly opened to reveal...

No. That's not possible.

Totally awesome.


Lilly's POV

As the door slammed behind me I couldn't help but wonder why I had chosen this tavern. The interior really needed a new design but the array of tables and the long bar counter made the whole tavern experience enhanced.

The pile of used hay in the corner really made it real.

The chandelier type candelabra hung low from the ceiling, sporting many lit candles with the wax dripping off the sides. Many more candle holders were fixed around the room casting an ominous glow round the dark room. The inhabitants of the tavern were all gangly men who seemed to dislike taking baths and had a problem with staring. To not raise suspicion, I swaggered in like I owned the place and glared at several men to keep up my persona and stop people from approaching me.

Of the five shabby booths in total, I walked towards a seemingly empty booth at the back of the room and sat down on the hard, wooden, circular bench and placed an elbow on the rickety table.

The table wobbled slightly.

So while I was wobbling it to-and-fro, I failed to notice a lone figure sway up to the seat across from me. Thoroughly satisfied with the wobbles, I glanced up and let a small yelp. For none other than the famous Tia Dalma sat across from me, bearing a huge grin that brandished many decaying black teeth and one silver. Dressed as usual, she seemed to grin even wider, than I ever thought possible, at my confused face. We sat there in silence surveying each other. I leaned forward to speak but she held up one finger to silence me, grinning all the way. It was like talking to Cheshire Cat!

"Ye do nut know what ye must seek, bat what you seek ye do nut need." She explained cryptically in her Jamaican accent.

My confused look just became more erratic as her words made little sense, although, she did make me smile.

"The first you must seek is what not known, den tings will become clearer to you my de-ar."

Considering this, I asked my first burning question, and the most obvious.

"Why am I here?"

Tia Dalma grinned once again and leaned back on the bench surveying me with her mournful brown eyes, filled with mischief.

"Dat is a quest-yan you mast ansa yourself."

God she sounded like Dumbledore! Doesn't ever give a straight answer. I went for an easier question.

"Alright then, where is Ellie?"

"She is wid the people of ya passt."

"My past? The Islanders?" I enquired quizzically. I was probably wrong, but I needed answers.

Tia laughed a short bark before reaching out for my fisted hand. Not quite realising what she was doing, I pulled back slightly, to be pulled even further across the table. Glancing up at me, she opened my palm and spat on it. Grasping my hand firmly she started to chant some forgotten magic.

Doing something this strange at this time of day and in a random tavern was a gamble as anyone could see us. I stopped focusing on the mad Jamaican to survey the tavern once again.

It was empty.

Apart from a three strange goats in the corner, a crossbow on the wall and an hour glass on a lone table, it was completely empty. No tankards of beer, no bottles of rum, no humans. It was eerily quiet.

I turned my head back round to see Tia shaking slightly. Suddenly, there was a flash of golden light that seemed to be erupting from our entwined hands. The light grew till the whole room was filled with it. Our hands were getting hotter, and as I stared at them, they emitted several soft wires of energy of all different shapes and colours, circling around our palms. My face lit up from the glow as the Great Tia Dalma carried on with her magic. Her hair turning wild as it was lifted by an unknown force and her face frowning in concentration.

As quickly as it had happened, it stopped.

The light retracted back into our hands. I stared at Tia as she continued to shake and mutter.

Her eyes were closed. When she opened them...

I saw everything.

Words failed me as images, sounds, smells, dialogue and all manner of memories returned to me.

A young blonde girl holding the hand of a boy as they floated around on the sea atop a wooden board. Crying.

The girl, meeting two brunette children for the first time, with nervous smiles.

The blonde girl sat with a brunette boy of 9, sharing stories they remembered of their parents. The boy was dressed as a blacksmith in miniature attire.

The same boy watched three girls get into a coach. Noticing him, the blonde girl gave a hearty wave to her brother.

Tia was sending me these for a reason, focussing on the blonde girl in particular.

A man in a rough cloak put his dirty hand over the mouth of the girl. She struggled as he stole her from a gathering.

The girl being thrown in a brig as men laughed cruelly at her. She huddled alone in the cold cell.

Being set free by another group of men, before being offered a place on their vessel.

The girl, as a teen, on deck wearing a hat with a feather, knee boots, jerkin, poet's shirt and trousers, bellowing orders as crew scuttled around.

Now, as an adult, the same girl arriving in Port Royal, under the cover of night, skilfully hiding in an old house. In the morning, she makes her way to an alley.

An alley? It was the same alley I had been in. The girl also had the same blue eyes as...

Me.

It was me. I was...

A pirate.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-The Red Crayon-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

It stopped as suddenly as it had started.

Sound came back to the room as the inhabitants struck up hearty conversation. Tia Dalma just looked at me. My face showed the features of a person in shock but recognition. Tia Dalma let go of my hands as my mind made quick recollection.

The girl was me, this was my life. I was not the Lilly Wemyss I had come to known. I was not the Lilly Wemyss, Ellie had come to known.

I was the Captain Eleanor Starre. Feared female pirate of the sea. The first ever woman to join the awe inspiring, pirates code.

I knew then what I had to do.

Grinning cheekily to the fantastic Tia Dalma, I got up, shook her hand and left the tavern with a new certainty.

I had to find Ellie. To explain everything to her and find out what she recalled. Thanks to my new found childhood memories, I knew exactly where to find my dear, old friend. Known by the name of...

Miss Nelly Tracey. Ward to the distinguished, Governor Weatherby Swann.

I knew exactly where to find her.

Glancing back once more to the door of the tavern, I giggled giddily before pushing forward through the wind and the rain.

This was going to be one hell of a ride.


A/U: Yeah. So...Yeah. That was chapter 4. The actual story content came out as 2,333 words. Not sure how that's relevant, but oh well!

Just remember: KEEP ON WRITING!