9.

"Are you barking mad?" Mr Gibbs cried out increduously, eyes bulging disbelievingly at me. "Are you?"

"She is a relation of Jack," Ragetti whispered loudly to Pintel. They both nodded at the realization. "I reckon it's in her blood to try and get us killed as much as possible, it is."

"Oh enough," I snapped irritably. We had stopped on a nearby island; the dingy, I realized with dismay, was far too small. We needed a ship. I was resorting to theft. But I don't see it as stealing, when I was embarking on a rescue mission. I'd be forgiven before any court once I had pleaded my case. Although, I was attempting to set free a pirate... Me and Will would probably both be sent to the gallows. Unless we weren't caught, and I didn't intend to be anytime soon. "We have to help Will!"

"You have to look at this in perspective." Mr Gibbs tried to counsel me out of my current state of mind. Poor, unfortunate fool. "We know you're a bit taken with him. We know you probably like staring into his dreamy eyes, and all of that nonsense, but it's impossible. He's on the Flying Dutchman." He said, cheeks filling with colour when I didn't shudder at the thought. "The Flying Dutchman! Are you telling me Jack never told you the stories?"

"Oh, now I remember," I drawled, heavy with sarcasm. "He told me right before tucking me into bed and giving me a cup of tea. Of course he never told me the stories! The last thing he ever did was tell me stories! What stories?" I added, unable to prevent my curiousity leaking through.

"Now she wants to know!" Mr Gibbs shouted, furious. "Listen here missy. I am not, hear me, risking my own neck for a pirate much like myself who wouldn't go through the bother if the situation was reversed. You'll mourn, you'll grieve, you'll move on. You're a woman. Being attached is your thing. Let's get back to the Pearl before they've realized we've gone."

We stood on the stony beach, glaring at one another. I had a flicker of momentary doubt; What was I doing? But then it subsided like a capsized rowing-boat. I couldn't give up, surrender to Mr Gibbs' pleading words. All I had to do was set Will free - I tried not to dwell on how - and then we'd make our way back to the Pearl. Jack would have to deal with it; find another way to settle his debt. Trading a man's life for his freedom was the most selfish thing I had ever heard.

"Ms Swann?" Ragetti asked quietly, skirting around me like he was actually scared. I remember when I first encountered him when I must've been eleven or twelve, and he had grinned at me wickedly, trying to frighten me. Pintel, beside him, had pulled an assortment of faces, asking me repeatedly - "Scared yet, Poppet?" Now, it was nearly funny to see them afraid to even address me. "Pardon me bluntly saying so, but how are you going to set Mr Turner free? Davy Jones' crew will find and kill you, they will. They don't hesitate at drawing blood. Not even for a woman much like yourself..."

It wasn't much of a shocker; Pirates, I had gathered, were aggressive. I had spent my adolescence among them. I learnt to fight in the presence of them. I think I could handle it. But the four of them were staring at me as if I were utterly insane.

"I say, we get back to the Pearl and see if they've left us any rum!" Pintel said excitedly, and everybody's face brightened at the thought. I glared at them. "Just an idea," he muttered, drawing back.

"Enough of the chitter-chatter," Mr Gibbs said dismissively, grabbing hold of my arm. He glanced down at the makeshift sling and nearly laughed. "And how do you expect to fight them off, Ms Swann, with your good arm, your fighting arm I might add, out of order? You haven't a chance. Please don't make me tell Jack that his niece has only got herself killed! Do not make me."

I looked at my sling, hating Barbossa with a fiery vengeance for rendering me useless. I glanced up at Mr Gibbs. "Oh, like he would miss me!" Even as I said it, I was reminded of Jack's words as he attempted to comfort me... I have come to the decision that if you should die, I might probably even miss you... Maybe he wasn't heartless afterall. But it wasn't enough to tear me away from my plan. His words meant next to nothing. My eccentric Uncle, as always, was not going to get in the way.

"See?" Mr Gibbs said, taking advantage of my hesitation. His face softened, his crinkled eyes watching me wearily. "Come on. Let's get back, shall we? Have a little fiesta to celebrate our being spared and things of the suchlike. The oars?"

"Fine."

Everbody breathed a collective sigh of relief. Marty flashed me a grin, and Pintel and Ragetti wore matching grins at the prospect of being united with their precious rum very soon. We made our way to the dinghy, strewn across the shore, and they clambered in. Mr Gibbs held out a hand to held me in when I gave him one short, cold laugh.

"Tell my Uncle to not wait up," I said very icily, lips parting into something of a taunting smirk, before grabbing his pistol that was joined onto his brown leather belt before he could anticipate my next move; I then turned and broke into a run, feeling the crunch of the thousands of pebbles beneath my feet, and I darted onto the concrete, disappearing behind a row of houses. I didn't look back. I wasn't sorry.

I wasn't going to go back. I wasn't going to go back. It didn't matter how helpless I felt.

It was a sleepy little town, the exact opposite of Tortuga. It even reminded me the blurred memories of Port Royal my mind had to offer. I walked towards the harbour, to the boats floating there as if they, like the occupants, were fast asleep too. Nobody but me roamed the streets. There was nobody for me to seek help from. It felt like I was the only one in the world. I half-expected to see the shape of the Pearl looming close on the horizon. Surely Jack would've been informed by Mr Gibbs?

I should've felt relieved at the thought nobody was coming after me. Startled, I discovered that it made things considerably worse. I truly was all alone.

My plan of action was to steal a ship, sail myself to wherever the Flying Dutchman rested among these waters, find my way on board, set Will free and miracuously survive, walking away from the incident unscatched? But I refused to regret my choice. The way everybody spoke of Davy Jones told me that he was a man of no mercy, and surely if he had a vendetta for Will, he wouldn't leave him alive for long. Will had that key... The key to Jones' heart. I didn't pause to think on how disgusting it was, for Jones to remove his own heart; Like always, I only thought of Will.

I looked over the boats carefully. They were small, using for fishing excursions most likely. Nothing grand, nothing that would be even remotely of any use. I waited, as if maybe a ship would form from my imagination before my very eyes, equipt for all my needs. It was long after midnight, the brutal wind cut through my layers as effortlessly as though they were made of tissue paper, and I felt the awful sting of tears. I hated crying, even though there was nobody around to wittness my display of self-pity. Crying meant weakness, did it not? I didn't want to fall into the category of damsel in distress. But nor did I the grouping of stranded fool.

I sank to my knees, thinking, planning, wishing. Maybe at morning, something of good fortune would strike me. Things always seemed worse at night, especially when I nobody to rely on, no crew to fall back on. I bitterly thought of Mr Gibbs, Pintel, Ragetti and Marty, wondering how they could've left me here in this strange, unknown island. Sure, I acted terribly but shouldn't it be their duty to retrieve and bring me safely back to the Pearl, regardless of the kicking and screaming?

I was hurt by their lack of emotion. I was hurt by how easily they let go. I was hurt that I wasn't any close to saving Will here then I was in my room aboard the Pearl. Hating myself, I felt the tears begin to fall.

"Lost?" A man stood behind me. Shock rippled through me; I jumped to my feet as fast as I could, which maybe wasn't swift enough with my arm in a sling, and clutched Jack's sword in what I hoped was a threatening pose. The man didn't even flinch, just smiled, as we were telling jokes to one another like old childhood friends might do. "I wouldn't use that if I were you," he advised me very calmly, indifferently. "My murder wouldn't go unnoticed, fair lady, of that you can be sure of. I'll repeat myself - Are you lost?"

I ignored his question. "Are you Governor?" I asked, taking in the white wig; it shone brilliantly in the moonlight.

He laughed cruelly. "My name is Lord Beckett." He smiled unkindly at the sight of me. "But I have a certain amount of power, you can definitely imagine. Your name?" He enquired.

Lord Beckett. A man of deep authority. I was the niece of a notorious, sought-after pirate. I would be guilty by association. I was sure people knew of the girl that lived on the Black Pearl among Jack and Barbossa. "Elizabeth..." I went to say Turner without thinking, before realizing that would damn me more than if he told him of my relations to Jack. "Elizabeth..." I struggled to think, "Harper," I blurted out. It was the only name that sprung at short notice to my mind. "Elizabeth Harper."

"Ms Harper?" He looked bemused, as if he knew it was a false alias. Fortunately, he didn't press the matter. He looked around, clarifying that there indeed was nobody else loitering around. I didn't lower my sword. "It's very late for a young woman to walk alone. Many men wouldn't think twice of taking the advantage."

"Those men should be warned," I spat coldly, meeting his cold, onyx-coloured eyes with my determined stare. "I wouldn't think twice of running this sword through those that dared."

All he said was, "Indeed." He took a step closer, and I one back. He was unarmed, I noted. This reassured me, albeit slightly. "Your age, Ms Harper?"

"Nineteen."

"Your reasons for being in Merilworth?" It took a moment for me to acknowledge that Merilworth was the name of the island. How did he know that I wasn't among one of the locals? "You look like a fish out of water," He explained to me, as if shifting through my thoughts. His eyes made me uneasy. "It's clear by the forlorn expression you haven't the faintest clue where you are. And for what did you find yourself left here? Alone?" He added.

"Is it any of your business?" I dared to ask.

"As a matter of fact, it is." He smiled, savouring the moment of using his authority over a mere commoner like myself. "That is Captain Jack Sparrow's sword, is it not? I recognize it. Is your Uncle here, Ms Swann?"

I was thrown. "But how - how did you -?" I stuttered, my heart sinking. He knew who I was. I was as good as dead. What were the chances of being left on an island inhabited by a man who had easily traced me back to my fugitive of an Uncle?

"How did I know? Do not insult my intelligence, Ms Swann. Your Uncle is famous in these waters. You're the one and only niece he oh-so graciously accepted on board his ship. Yes, it's common knowledge. It's on file. You don't think we haven't been tracking you, all these years? You seem to have embraced the pirate lifestyle."

He looked me over with those unsettling eyes; taking in the sword once more, my wild-looking hair, my crumpled, unclean attire, the compass hanging onto my belt, the pistol beside it and my glowering expression. To any outsider, they would make the natural assumption I was a pirate. Of course I did. I didn't throw him the same monologue that I would've done, under any other circumstances. That I steered away from acts of piracy...

Apart from setting out to commondere a ship, sail my way to the ocean-renowned Flying Dutchman, battle my way recklessly through anybody that dared step into my path in order to set Will Turner free, no, Captain Will Turner free. I was well on my way to becoming a pirate. At least I wasn't obsessed with treasure... But then I recalled the foolish fantasties of a terminal dreamer, of life on a simple island, of finding that somebody real to share a lifetime of happiness with, of coming to a state of utter contentment, and concluded that not all treasure was a pile of glittering gold.

"You know nothing," I snapped.

"I'm sure your knowledge is far more impressive," He agreed. Suddenly becoming business-like. "Tell me, where are Jack Sparrow and Hector Barbossa this fine night?"

I gestured to the harbor, to the empty streets. To the nothing that was Merilworth. "Do you see them around? Do you see their ship, docked among those pitiful things? I'm alone. I came here alone."

Lord Beckett's expression was gloating, triumphant. "You're a dead woman." He promised me. He reached out for me, and my heart leapt, but all he did was brush a fingertip along the sword. "May I? This sword has threatened my life many other ocasions, similiar to this one," He informed me. "I'm positive, like then, I would be able to survive it's wrath once more."

He pulled at the sling, grabbing my broken arm and rotating it around, so that it was pressed against my back. I screamed; unable to keep the agony concealed. It felt as if he were snapping it off, the pain was like none other I had ever experienced; it cut through my arm like a blade, and I felt like I could pass out, even lose myself fatally to the all-consuming torture.

He hissed into my ear, and I could tell his mouth was carved into a triumphant smirk, "You will tell me all that I need to know." Jack's sword, which had clattered to the ground, was now securely in his grasp. "Now be a good girl and don't make another sound. Tell me all that you know of Captain Turner."

Thankyou for everything - Taking the time to read, review and everything else. I hope you're enjoying the story. (: