Thanks for the reviews on the last chapter! To the guest, your suspicion of Mr. Hawkins is interesting but you'll have to wait and see how that works out! Icar372; there are a fair few exchanges on the way between Fiona and James over the next few chapters!

So, chapter Nine. James is being a bit of a grade A plonker and we see a bit of Fiona's mind!

Chapter Nine - An Occupation

I had hoped that the good Lieutenant would keep his word, but even if he did it appears that James was reluctant to let me offer up any assistance aboard The Surgence. A week had passed and I was still skirting the railings, very aware that I was only acknowledged by an officer when he brought me food. The pain of my shoulder wound had lessened a great deal but sleeping on the floor of the brig with only my long tangled hair for a cushion was beginning to take its toll upon my limbs. The stiffness of my bad knee was every day giving me reason to question whether I did indeed need to climb the steep staircases to the upper decks. I did though, because I was determined that no one should see an once of weakness from me.

I'd barely seen James in my stay aboard his ship. He kept much to the Captain's cabin and I only saw him in passing in the evenings. He would acknowledge my presence with little more than a nod of his head, but I was sometimes surprised to even receive that. At the end of the day, for all he knew I was just some sewer rat from Ireland that had more than likely partaken in a fair few dodgy dealings and he was a Commodore swiftly on his way to making Admiral. We were from very different worlds. To be honest if I'd had my way I'd have stayed in my own world. As it was, I was currently stuck somewhere firmly between the two with no way of moving into either.

As much as I might not think myself a pirate, I had somehow aligned myself with the crew still locked within the brig. Perhaps James had sensed my reluctance to help him, for there had been no more mention of a crown or gold or anything like that in my presence. I'm no fool though. I knew it was only a matter of time before I was cornered and had my hand forced in some way. That was why I decided I had better work to understand James a little. If I could have his number as much as he appeared to think he had mine then perhaps I might stand some chance of putting up a fight. Lieutenant Groves was the man I appeared to cross paths with most whilst I was above deck, so I resolved to try and extract some much needed information from him over the course of my many days of boredom. He had been kind to me, and had remembered my name from his time aboard The Grace so I was fairly sure he would at least tolerate some light questioning. It was finding out more about James that I knew I'd have some trouble with at first. It would take time, as well I knew but I knew I stood a chance of building up a rapport with the man. I could cope with the timely task, as time was something I certainly seemed to have.

I already knew for myself of course that there was some strange kind of rivalry between James and Jack Sparrow, but over the course of that first week I came to understand just how deeply it ran with both men. The reality was that I didn't really know Sparrow that well before I came aboard The Black Pearl, so to get to know him in the confines of the brig and then hear a Naval officer's opinion on such a man was a rather odd way to build up an impression of someone. Of James I came to decide that he was rather isolated and lonely. Groves had told me very little, but it was enough for me to ascertain that there was some reason why James was so keen to prove himself. At first I thought perhaps it was an overly strict father or dis-believing mother but I had to discount that theory. James was older than me by perhaps eight or nine years I thought, and at such an age I considered that a man of his position would have shaken off such thoughts of familial disappointment. My next thought was that perhaps he believed he had lost the good opinion of someone else in his life. There were few other options, perhaps someone of a higher rank in the Navy who had been something of a mentor or what I thought was the more plausible option; a woman.

To look at James, who has so determined and focused, I don't think anyone would really believe he was love sick. Even I marvelled at first that he would have the time, or even the sensitivity to develop feelings for a woman. Probing such answers from Groves did not work. What I'd not considered was that Jack Sparrow would be the one to tell me how James had been spurned by a woman he had loved for many years and that she had in turn married a blacksmith, who was also a pirate. She married for love, Sparrow said. It's commendable that she did what was right for her own heart though. I believe I'd think a lot less of Elizabeth Swann if she had continued to torment James by marrying him. She chose the man she loved, and isn't that what we all wish we could do in life?

He believed she had ruined him though. What did he have left now that the only woman he had ever thought of as worthy enough to become his wife was unattainable? Not only was she unattainable but she had never loved him at all. Perhaps she had liked him well enough, and would have found him to be a good husband, but for her he had lacked something; something that James was now sure was a blatant disregard for the laws of the British empire. Perhaps that was what had driven him into the path of that hurricane; some ill-judged quest to prove himself to his Miss Swann, and perhaps even to his own self. I'd never been in love so deeply to begin to comprehend how he must have felt in those weeks and months of heartbreak. All I know to compare it with is the melancholy moods that Mick O'Malley fell into sometimes when he thought of his late wife. He did not get angry or vengeful, for I think that had long passed by the time I met him. It was more of a grim sadness that seemed to envelope him for days on end. Sometimes it even lasted weeks.

Mick was an open book where most things were concerned, and wouldn't have thought twice of a crew member entering his cabin to search for something they needed even if he wasn't there. There was just that one drawer of his desk that remained locked at all times, and he wore the key on a chain about his neck. Even if it had been left unlocked, no one would have dared to open it for we all knew what was kept there. I remember the first time I'd wandered down to his cabin and caught sight of his hunched over form through the ajar door. The grief-stricken expression I saw on his face had me stopping in my tracks, sure that I was invading some form of private upset. I'd already known what had befallen his late wife, but Mick had never talked about his feelings. someone had told me that Mick kept his wife's jewellery in the locked drawer, and that was what appeared to be causing his upset in that moment. In his hand something glistened in the candlelight as he gazed at the trinket almost as if the gold itself were causing him pain. He did not look away though.

Mick wasn't the type to go to that drawer regularly, but there were moments I think when he felt he owed it to his wife to remember her. He felt guilty sometimes that he took pleasure from life and she was not there to share it with him. He would spend a day or two in quite a depressed mood, before some funny occurrence or need for action would snap him back out of it. There was the odd time when it would last longer though. He was still Mick of course, and still Captain in every way. There was something behind his eyes though that told myself at least that his mind was elsewhere. He had every right to feel that way I suppose. It's just that he was torturing himself. I found it very hard to understand just why he caused himself so much pain. There were other men of the crew who had lost people, some had even lost their whole families and they seemed to find their own unique way of coping with it. Perhaps it was the sea, soothing their ills as it so often did mine.

When you're in that dark place, it's so hard to fight your way out of it though. I knew that myself, from what had occurred back in Ireland. I swore to myself I'd never go back there because I knew what it felt like, and because Mick needed us all. Of course, it doesn't always happen the same way. Falling down that trap door into the dark abyss can happen at any time, and for a number of different reasons. It can be triggered by so many things, little or large. The honest truth is that you cannot catch yourself before you fall, because you are in the middle of it before you even know it. I'd thought I could help myself if I ever felt such a way again, that I'd know the signs and take measures to pull myself back from the brink. I was a fool to think that. For I did fall again.

As one week drew into many and I was left listlessly wandering the decks of The Surgence with nothing to do and little in the way of company, my grief began to overtake me. In those weeks more than any other time I let my mind dwell on how things might have worked out differently if Mick had survived. If any of the crew of The Grace had lived, things might have been so different. Perhaps I wouldn't have felt so alone in the world. Sparrow and his crew might have been my comrades pf sorts at that time, but they were not my family as Mick and his friends had been. They had not accepted me in the same way. I did not ever think I would feel so accepted and loved again in my life. There was even that dark part of my mind that I shudder to recollect now, the dark part of my soul that wished Mick had not saved my life, that I too had died that day.

I know now of course that there was little I could have done for myself. I wasn't dealing with what had happened to my friends, or anything that had occurred in my life for that matter. I'd stamped down upon it with my new-found happiness with Mick and I'd pushed it to the back of my mind. I'd pretended I was someone entirely new. Perhaps creating my new identity wasn't as freeing as I'd first thought. whilst it opened up a new life for me to explore, it didn't help me to deal with my past. I could forget it well enough when I was happy, but when grief-stricken it all came crashing back onto me in waves. Before I knew it I was lost again. I had those rare moments of sunshine, when Mr. Hawkins would find the time to tease me when there were no officers around. oddly, I think now that those little moments might have been all that kept me going in some strange way.

Of course I understand it all a little better now. I understand that James was determined to prove himself. He also steered his focus into his naval career a little too quickly, without giving himself enough time to process. That's why there was anger and resentment there in his soul. No matter what he says, back then he was still angry at the world for what had befallen him but he had not questioned whether there was something he himself could do to remedy it. He believed everyone else to be at fault not just for what had become of his life but for what might become of it in the future. He hadn't given much thought to the fact that the rest of his life was entirely his own, to do with as he wished. If he'd seen that, he wouldn't have accepted a commision from a man like my uncle who he neither liked nor trusted.

I also understand that I was also partly to blame for my own decent into depression. There was nothing I could do to stop it of course, because I had no say in the events of my life until that point but perhaps I could have tried to see things differently. I don't tell James any of that, because he gets angry with me. Still sometimes I go over in my mind how I might have helped Mick; saved his life. The guilt is something I hide, for James would not hear of me feeling such a way. He tells me to take my own advice, but who does? I took so much time and patience to help James realise that he could no longer blame himself for the deaths of his crew. It was a painstaking task that I sometimes feel I still undertake, and I'm finally coming to terms with how I must take care of my own mindset as well as his. There's so much that came to pass along our perilous journey that changed us both for the better and the worse but we see now that it's made us who we are.

Now we count our blessings that things worked out the way they did. Although there was much sadness and pain along the way, we appreciate it all now. It's the little things we choose to appreciate; the simple choices and occurrences that wrote our story for us. It's still a marvel to me that Mr. Hawkins sat upon deck, rolling between his tanned fingers the miniature portrait of Niamh Lefroy and that he never once glanced at it and thought he saw it's likeness in me. It's true that I'd greatly changed, but I think it was more to do with the naivety and the greed of Mr. Hawkins. He was too absorbed in gold and treasure to really think of the lost soul of a young woman. Perhaps if he'd been more understanding, more sympathetic; he might have realised that I was the one he had been searching for.

As it was, he was happy to tease and cajole me at every turn. If he gave much thought to the words he had said to me on my second morning aboard The Surgence, he did not mention it to me. I was always aware that he more than likely saw me as a means to increase his fortune, and I think that was what enabled me to interact with him as well as I did considering my mood. I understood that he was perhaps probing for information or a reaction of some kind. Therefore I mapped out how I should behave and react. After a few weeks I began to see a slight change in his attitude towards me. There was a new sort of familiarity within him when he spoke with me. there was more of a friendly manner within him, as if he had accepted me as what I'd presented myself as. Certainly I knew just as much about sailing as he did, perhaps even a little more. I'd worked every day for the last however many years without complaint and had come to greatly enjoy life upon the sea. It was the only path I saw ahead for myself. We had things in common, which I found odd. It enabled me to approach him myself when it was quiet upon deck though. I'd managed to secure for myself somewhat of an ally when it came to the officers and James. We were both outsiders.

I do not think I've ever been so idle my whole life. Not even when I was a child back in Ireland did I spend so many hours in a solitary situation. There was always work to be done in the house helping my mother, or my father would beckon me down the street to the little office he had procured for his legal business to help him keep things tidy. Even in the evenings my father would draw our chairs closer to the fire and pull out a book of some form to read with me. He was adamant that I learn all that I could so that I could better myself. I suppose he wanted a better life for me than my mother had. I never really thought my mother's life particularly hard though. She grew up on a farm, working hard day in day out and that kept her strong and healthy. Perhaps that's where I get my work ethic from. She met my father when she was still young; sixteen or seventeen I think. They were married within a few months and settled into the little house that they'd eventually bring me up in. My father was a country lawyer, more used to the squabbles of farmers over land or cattle but he was a lawyer all the same. It gave him a form of social standing within our town, so much so that the local earl decided to employ my father to conduct his legal affairs. There was money, not a grand amount but there was enough to get by on. We probably could have afforded to move into a larger home but my parents were happy in their little house on their quiet street.

I think perhaps towards the end my mother would have liked to employ some form of help around the house, but circumstances beyond our control forced us to think upon other matters. My father wasn't keen on having help or a bigger house, because his brother who had been taken to England would surely have an opinion on such matters. Scooped from the little cottage as a babe, my uncle Sidney was taken in by distant cousins living in London who had no heirs of their own. Thus my father became an only child. If he resented my uncle, he did not show it much. It was rather that my father wanted to work to prove his worth.

That's where I get it from, the drive and the restlessness. Sitting alone at the bow of the ship day after day was beginning to destroy any hopes I still had left. I didn't know if he had consulted with James, but Lieutenant Groves thought one day to approach me in the company of a midshipman who carried what I knew to be a crumpled sail. When they laid it out upon the deck before me I felt something like anticipation stir in my stomach. I stared down at the wide gash that ran almost the breadth of the sail. The midshipman saluted his officer and marched away to be about his business.

"I had cause to wonder Miss O'Connell, what skill you might have with a needle and thread?"

The woman in me should really have been offended to be lumbered with a task so readily considered women's work but the truth is I saw only the oppertunity for occupation. It also seemed almost like a sort of reluctant acceptance; that I was no longer the waif nestled at the bow of the ship who was little more than a ghost. To me it felt as if certainly Groves and perhaps even James had finally consented to believe that I was in fact a living and breathing person.

I took the old blunt wooden needle and coarse thick thread without protest, feeling for the first time in weeks a sense of purpose. As I said, at the time I was not aware of whether Groves had consulted with James as to whether I was to be allowed a task to complete, but I was so pleased to finally have something to do with my hands that I really gave James's opinion very little thought. It was not an active task, and I only had to move to turn the sail this way and that as I worked. By the time that the bell tolled for the midday meal, I could feel the heat of the sun prickling the back of my neck but it was a feeling I was used to, that I had missed. Long days working in the sun were what my life consisted of; it was what I wanted.

Eager to complete my task in the hopes that the Lieutenant might find more work for me, I forwent food and carried on, my hands and fingers loosening up as the needle and thread passed between them. I finished in less time than I'd envisioned the task to take and sat back against the railings to observe my work. My neck was stiff from sitting in an awkward position for so long but I was so buoyed by time well spent that I didn't care. I stood up to stretch my legs and turned to look out at the ship behind me. My eyes were drawn almost immediately to the quarterdeck, and the emerald green eyes that were gazing at me intently, and I think it was anger that I might have seen in them even from so far away.

It did not take long for James's booted feet to carry him to where I stood, Lieutenant Groves hard on his heels as he rapidly tried to offer an explanation to his superior. James came to a stop just before me, the tips of his boots just falling short of the sail that lay folded neatly at my feet.

"Sir I thought to give Miss O'Connell some occupation as she was wiling and we did not have the men to spare. I made the executive decision in the belief that you would not wish to be bothered with so trivial a matter."

I could see the beads of sweat forming on Groves' forehead as he clamoured to his Commodore, and I felt the odd sensation to laugh at his inability to stand up for himself effectively. Those emerald eyes did not even spare Groves a glance as his eyes first took in the repaired sail and then drew upwards towards me. He lingered just a second too long upon my necklace before his eyes met mine.

"I did not agree to this," James announced.

"But Sir-"

"For God's sake it's just a sail!" I cried with a roll of my eyes. "Now it's a repaired sail. What's so wrong with that?"

"What is wrong Miss O'Connell," James began with no preamble, "Is that my permission was not given. I had expressed my reluctance in the past to allow you to partake in such a task as you are not a member of my crew. You are a guest aboard this ship and one who is not yet fully recovered. I do believe the task I asked of you was to gather information about The Crown of Immortality from Sparrow and his crew."

My shoulder was still painful, but I wasn't about to tell him that. I ignored that statement and instead focused my attention on what I believed he felt most important at that time. "You know, I've asked Sparrow and his crew about this crown. They seem to think that I should know where it is. They don't even know! The truth is that no one really knows do they?" I think it was the sense of hope brought about by a day of occupation that let loose my tongue in that moment, and I decided I didn't care what James thought of my harsh words. "You're all searching for something that doesn't even exist, and you've told me I'm stuck here until you find such a thing! That's a death sentence, do you realise that? So now you're going to tell me that I cannot even pass the time productively? Do you want me to just give up on life entirely; because that's what it seems like to me?"

His expression didn't change. I don't know if I was hoping that it would or not. A vein pulsing at his temple was the only indication that he was not happy with how I'd addressed him. For a moment he was silent, his eyes locked with mine in a battle of wills. There was a lot he could have said in that moment, but instead his eyes fell back down to the sail.

"We have no need for another main sail. We already have spares. This should have been discarded when we last docked in port You're efforts have been wasted in effect."

I don't know what it was within him in that moment that wanted to break me, to pull me back down again but it worked. My anger roiled and from my belt I pulled Mick's knife that I'd hidden for weeks on end. "Fine!" I yelled as the knife plunged into the sail and the sound of tearing fabric met our ears. I scored and scored until the sail was cut to ribbons and then I turned and stalked away, stuffing the knife back into my belt as I went. my hands curled into fists as I made for the steps, stomping my way back down into the brig. The frustration and anger that had been brewing inside me had not been given a suitable outlet in the form of the sail and so I kicked out at whatever my feet could connect with as I went.


"I hope you do not think me bold Sir, but I had hoped to improve the mood of our guest," Lieutenant Groves explained quietly.

"Her mood?" James questioned as he took a seat behind his desk. "And since when did she carry a weapon? I thought such things had been checked?"

"Sir it appears she kept it well hidden. At any rate, she has not used it for ill. To have a weapon upon her person this whole time and not use it to try and free herself from her current predicament surely shows that Miss O'Connell is trustworthy? Forgive me if I speak out of turn Sir, but I do believe that Miss O'Connell suffers from a very melancholy mood of late. In effect, what she said on deck is not far from the truth. She has been asked to remain aboard whilst we search for an artefact that has no basis in reality. No thought has been given to her own feelings regarding such a matter. She has lost everything, her friends and her home and occupation. I believe I thought some light work might give her purpose. I did not think it would displease you so."

"What displeases me is insubordination," James replied stiffly. I think if I'd been in the room with him I'd have thrown something at him. "It was agreed upon that Miss O'Connell would have no fraternisation with the crew. Instead of following such orders Groves you chose to make her one of them."

"Sir I do believe that is what she may require to keep herself sane. She is depressed. She has no regard for her own life or her future. She is lost. You of all people Commodore Sir must appreciate how low one may sink after a severe loss. You yourself have dealt with grief. In some ways you still deal with it every day. Was that not the reason that you wished to spare her life?"

James shook his head. "Our situations are in no way similar. I agreed to spare Miss O'Connell as she appears to have the unique ability to delve into Sparrow's secrets and procure for us the information we seek. I did so only to gain an insight into Sparrow's mind. I believe I gave no thought to her grief."

"But her Captain Sir?" Groves questioned. "Did we not all greatly respect him and owe him our lives? Miss O'connell in effect does owe us the entire sum of nothing. She and her Captain saved our lives and now we have saved hers. Sir I speak to you as a friend as well as a subordinate. These last months have not been easy for you, but in the face of your grief I think you have forgotten your humanity. You cannot hope to force the girl into subordination when she in fact owes us nothing. She knows that. Even so I do believe if she had any knowledge of the crown she might just impart it to us!"

"She was sailing with pirates Lieutenant!" James cried. "Do not presume to know her! She may have been Captain O'Malley's first mate but she actively chose to seek out Sparrow! whilst I have little choice but to keep her aboard my ship I must ensure she does not influence the men of my crew! To give her occupation would entice her to think she is accepted. Whilst I appreciate the action of saving our lives during that hurricane, and no more wish to lock an innocent young woman in the brig than you Lieutenant, I still remain wary of her. I cannot be seen to take liberties in terms of the law. Miss O'Connell was right when she said that she had in effect chosen piracy in sailing with Sparrow. However, her cooperation with us warrants a reprieve. Information received from her will ensure her own safety."

Groves was shaking his head. He didn't believe James's words and although I was not in the room with the two men, I know that James knew what his friend thought. I don't know if what he said was lies, or if he at that time believed them and later realised how foolish his words had been. Of course he was angry, because the truth is that he and I were similar. We'd both suffered loss and were overwhelmed with grief. I never really got to ask Groves what he thought of that conversation, and only have James's account of it. He told me the truth though because I could tell how ashamed he was of his words. He is ashamed of his treatment of me even though it was not so very bad. It's true that I'd have been considered a pirate under different circumstances and would have faced certain death. James saved me from that with his quick thinking and desire to repay my late captain. I don't know why he was so keen to tarnish his good intentions with his own words. I'd been injured and was allowed time to recuperate, with fresh air and a comfortable cabin (even if I did not make use of it). I'd been fed and watered and was not miss-treated in any way. I could have been a lot worse off. I also had Lieutenant Groves to thank for trying to dispel my depressed mood.

"Sir I will not try to appease you on such matters when you are in such ill temper. All I wish to say is that I believe if Miss O'Connell were given some occupation; some task to complete every day her mood would improve. So might her resolve to aid you. She is grief-stricken and of such a low mood that she cannot see a way to help herself let alone anyone else. Perhaps to feel respected and accepted might restore her former resourcefulness. I do not believe Sir, that you can justify your keeping her aboard as Sparrow knows something you don't. I know your quest is an important one, but you did not spare Miss O'Connell for that reason. Your respect and guilt for what happened to her late Captain who was a good man was all the influence you need. You are equals in some ways, although you should not question her respect for your authority. Captain O'Malley respected you, and so does Miss O'Connell. That is a start, if she grows to tolerate and like you, then perhaps then she will be agreeable to seek out the information you so need. Perhaps it is something to think on Sir."

James had a lot to think on when Lieutenant Groves left his cabin. I know he could not deny in his mind all that his officer had said. He trusted Groves implicitly, and the man had spoken for me. That means something in any walk of life. Even to pirates there is a strange sense of loyalty and respect for the word of a decent man. No matter how James tried to put such matters to the back of his mind, he could not forget them completely. He gave orders that Groves was not to speak with me, and the other officers too were quiet. Thus my only friend not ensconced within the brig appeared to be Mr. Hawkins.

I hadn't told the pirates what happened, for fear that I'd grow angry again. I regretted my behaviour in ruining the sail and the temper that had caused it. I should not have let James get the better of me, but all of my anger in that time was centred upon him even though for the most part he was not to blame. He did not kill Mick, and he had not forced me into a life of piracy. I think I enjoyed hating him a little though. It stopped me hating myself. A meal was brought to the pirates later that evening and Lieutenant Thompson brought me food too, but I shared it out amongst the crew of The Pearl, my appetite lost and hope waning faster than it had built up that morning when I'd held that needle and thread in my hands. My knee gave a painful twinge as I stretched my legs out and I realised that for the first time I'd gone almost a whole day without any complaints from it. I put that down to the good mood I'd found myself in earlier on.

I slumped down in the corner between the iron cage and the side of the ship, wrapping my arms around myself and closed my eyes to fight off the warring emotions that thrust themselves into my mind. I wanted to cry with sadness, but I also wanted to tear things apart and scream in frustration. None of that would get me anywhere else but stuck in that dank brig with Sparrow and his pirate crew.


I really felt I had to delve into Fiona's mind and explore her emotions a bit with this chapter! Apologies if it bogs it down a bit but it will help to explain why she connects with the other characters in the next chapters and in ones that are still quite far off!

In the next chapter there's a surprise return in store for Fiona and some more odd dreams to decipher!