A/N: So I have to apologize to everyone who have already read this chapter, I know I kinda contradicted myself with Jack being dead already, I was a bit tired when I was writing this last night and it completely slipped my mind, but I fixed it and hopefully my brain won't short-circuit on me like that again. :)
Kelpie Fact No. 3: Kelpies would usually appear before humans in the shape of a horse, the legends telling of either black or white horses. In some stories though, such horses can be recognised as kelpies due to some characteristic features, for example, its cold skin that resembles that of a seal and its mane, which is said to be constantly wet and filled with water weeds. In my story, kelpie's colour depends on the gender, males are always black, and females are always white horses.
Written in the Stars
Chapter 10.
To say that the captain was furious would be an understatement of the century. Silver, at least, was not part of the crew really, so the captain did not punish her physically like it was in their case. Still, the harsh glare he was sending their way was nearly strong enough to burn a hole through her skull. It didn't seem like he held her personally responsible for what happened, but she felt guilty nonetheless. After they came on board the captain wanted her to recount everything that has transpired since they left and so she did, telling him of her fight with Sparrow and how, when everyone was distracted, someone from Sparrow's group managed to slip away with the chest. She was angry with the others and with herself, but it was a little too late for that now.
The only reason the captain wasn't breaking any bones was, because, Jack Sparrow was finally dead. At the end it came as somewhat of a shock for Silver, and something of a disappointment, as she couldn't see his death from up close as Jones ordered to stay on the ship. And though they both should have felt relief and joy at finally watching the pirate's destruction under the Kraken's ruthless power, this victory was a bitter one.
It was about two days after the incident and Silver stood on the deck with her captain. In those two days she barely left his side, feeling concern for him. He was more gloomy than usual, lashing out at anyone who dared to pass too close by him and her own presence was tolerated only because she wisely decided to stay silent. She could tell that he was worried and she had no idea what could she do to help him. The chest could be God-knows-where by now, and she herself was very anxious, fearing for his safety. She knew that whatever that man was going to do with the chest, it was not going to be anything good, and the anticipation was driving them both mad. On the third day however, their uneasiness of not knowing what was about to happen was finally at an end. She was helping the crew with the sails, watching the captain as he stood up on the helm, staring at the sea, his eyes distant, when suddenly she shuddered as a sudden gust of cold, chilly wind swept past her, and she had a bad feeling as she looked back at him.
She jumped down from the mast she was currently hanging from as she saw him standing there, unmoving. His head was low as he touched his chest as if it was bothering him, his breath short and ragged as if he was in pain. She approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder, her eyes full of concern as she looked at his face. "What's wrong, captain?" she asked him softly and he snapped his head towards her, straightening himself as he replied, his voice empty. "We must sail to Port Royal." As he said that, he moved to walk away, and her eyes followed after him, her expression surprised, before they narrowed in confusion and suspicion. "Wait… why on Earth would you want to go to...?" Then, her eyes widened in realisation and she ran after him, placing a hand on his chest. "You do not want to go anywhere, do you? You are being summoned." It was really more of a statement than a question, but he nodded solemnly, confirming it, and she let out a heavy sigh as she put a hand on his, gently curling her fingers around his claw in an attempt to reassure him of her support. "Then we must go immediately." she agreed and he gave out the orders, the ship submerging, travelling below the sea where it's supernatural power allowed it to travel much faster, and Silver would greatly enjoy the scene under different circumstances, if she currently wasn't so afraid for the captain's life.
Several hours later they emerged again, as they arrived to their destination, causing quite an uproar among the simple folk that lived in the port city. She recalled the few times she's been here before, not really in the city, no, but she would often swim through this area in the past and as always, she had to turn her head to admire the tall and proud fortress in the background. As they sailed into the harbour however, she saw the captain's eyes looking elsewhere and she followed his stare to a nearby building overlooking the harbour and there, on an open balcony, she saw a figure of a man. As soon as he came into their view, she noticed Jones taking his head off and placing it on his chest in greeting and she glared at him, surprised, before she returned her attention to the man on the balcony, eying him with exasperation.
She couldn't see much beyond his proud posture as he stood there, watching his fleet in the harbour they just obviously became a part of, but even from this distance she could feel his eyes on her as he was staring at her rather intently. She didn't know yet who he was, but she was sure she would get acquainted with him soon. And sure enough, as soon as the Dutchman stopped in the harbour they were boarded, armed soldiers aiming dozens of weapons at them, asking wordlessly for their compliance. She growled under her breath in frustration, not wanting to just surrender to anybody like that, but she didn't want to cause the captain, or anyone of the crew any harm, and so she lowered her head slightly in a submissive position as she was led out of the ship towards the city. It was surprising but whoever was behind this, he wanted to talk to her first even before the captain.
So now she couldn't help but being slightly curious about him. Armed guards were currently leading her to his office. They stopped in front of a door and knocked lightly, and a voice from the inside replied, giving them the permission to enter. She was pushed inside then and the two guards stood still on each side of her as she looked around. It was a smaller, but nicely decorated room, filled with luxury and comfort. On one side, the wall was filled entirely with a huge map of the world painted on it, which she found rather beautiful. She glanced out of the still opened balcony door through which she could see the Flying Dutchman and she was hoping that everyone there was alright. And then she looked to the great desk by the opposite window and she saw the man sitting behind it.
That was the first time Silver laid her eyes on the man named Cutler Beckett, and she was surprised to say the least. The soldiers on the ship has already told her his name, and she realised she could have expected that. She heard about him before, after all, nobody could live in the Caribbean these last few years without hearing the name of the East India Trading Company's governor and his exploits in the area. He had quite a reputation, but she had never actually seen him before and she did not expect him to look like the man who was standing, or rather, sitting in front of her now. He was still rather young, for a human, with a handsome face and sharp, piercing blue eyes that kept looking straight at her as he motioned for her to sit, and she did so, gracefully lowering herself into one of his armchairs. He was wearing an elegant and expensive looking clothes, and a white wig, a classic sign of his status as an important person. All in all, he made an impression on her, and despite feeling rather apprehensive towards him, she still returned his gesture as he smiled at her.
"Well," he said. "This is a fine meeting, indeed. I must say when I was informed of your presence upon the Flying Dutchman, miss Brooks, I was not expecting someone quite like you." He looked her up and down, and she felt slightly uncomfortable under his scrutiny, but then she dismissed it as she paused. "Who told you about me?" she asked, and he nodded to his men, who, leaving only for a few seconds, suddenly placed a heavy object on the table. "The same man who brought me this." he replied, and she turned to her head to look at it. It was the chest, and she gasped quietly, and then again as she looked at it closely and saw that it was, in fact, opened. There were deep scratches on the lock part, it's delicate design damaged, and she growled in anger, before actually opening her chest, and any expression on her face fell as she saw the heart inside, beating in a calm, almost hypnotising rhythm. She reached down to touch it, but the chest was quickly snatched from her. She glared at Beckett in shock, and he answered her unspoken question.
"It wasn't easy to get into that, yes. But I make sure to employ only the most capable of people, those on whose efficiency I can rely on. Now, let's get down to business, shall we?" he said, almost cheerfully, in his highly sophisticated british accent. "I'm sure you know who I am by now, so there's no need for introductions. As you can see, I am in possession of Davy Jones' heart, and therefore, the Flying Dutchman, its crew, and indirectly, you as well."
At that, she looked at him, a bit offended. "I do not belong to the ship, lord Beckett." she said offensively, putting an emphasis on his name to show him that she indeed knew who he was. "If I wanted to leave, I would have every right to do so."
"Under different circumstances perhaps." he nodded. "But as it turns out, you are a person who could be of great use to me if properly motivated, and I think…" he said slyly, leaning over the table. "I think, for whatever reason, you would not leave our dear captain to a fate that could possibly lead to his death. But, speaking of motivation, there is a certain plan I wish to follow, and for that purpose, I would like to extend to you an offer of a deal."
She stared at him for a second, before she sighed and leaned back in the armchair. "I heard about you indeed, lord Beckett." she said, speaking softer this time. "And I am not sure dealing with you is the best of my options."
"It is your only option," he replied. "Unless of course you are willing to count your own possible death as another." She turned around when she heard the sounds of the two soldiers unsheathing their swords, and she looked at the weapons with a surprise. They were made of silver, and the metal was glinting in the sunlight. She raised from the armchair quickly and snapped her head back to Beckett. "How do you know of this?" she asked, her voice harsh, and he smiled at her casually before answering. "It is imperative to one's success to know the weaknesses of his possible enemies." he said, standing up as well and walking around the desk towards her. "But that doesn't have to be the nature of our relationship. I am a man of civilised manners. If that is a trait we share, I am sure we can reach some sort of arrangement." There was a plate with several glasses and a bottle on the desk beside him, and he took a glass then and, pouring some liquid into it, he handed it to her. She eyes the contents of it carefully. "Don't worry, it's wine." he said, giving her a friendly smile. "No doubt a creature with such a refined taste as you surely are could not stand the taste of the vile drink those pirates are so fond of." He went to sit back behind his desk, and she followed, taking a sip of the wine as she did so, enjoying the taste. This was definitely a drink she was going to like.
She sat back down, and studied his face for a while. He was a ruthless man, she knew that, and all her instincts told her to be wary of him, but there was something about him, about the way he carried himself, that she found quite fascinating, and she wondered if there was, perhaps, something to gain by working with this man. Besides, he was right, she wouldn't leave the captain alone in this. She knew that Jones wasn't stupid, but she also knew of his temper, and with a man like Beckett that could get him into serious trouble. Someone would have to keep him out of that. And of course, there were those silver swords to consider...
"So, miss Brooks? How can the East India Trading Company be of servise to you?" he asked suddenly, surprising her with his question, but she of course knew what he meant. Propping her elbows against the table, she looked at him with a sigh. "There are only two things that I would want, lord Beckett, that would grant you my… alliance. To protect my captain, and Jack Sparrow's head on a stake. Since Jack Sparrow already is dead, that one is off the table, but if you can promise me that Davy Jones will be safe, then I am sure we'll get along quite well. I am, after all, not very fond of pirates."
"Oh, I am not surprised. Our dear old Jack, of course. It's amazing how he always managed to find himself in trouble by antagonising the wrong kind of people." he said with a smile, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "And you say that he's dead? Very interesting… and convenient. Your commitment to the captain on the other hand is something I found rather fascinating, if not commendable, pray tell me, what reason might spark such loyalty?"
"He saved my life." she answered simply.
"Ah." he breathed in his calm voice. "That is understandable then. Does it have something to do with Jack perhaps?" Earning himself a short nod from her, he continued his questioning. "Of course it does. Would you care to tell me why do you hate him so much? It is an interesting thought to consider, what he could possibly do to make an enemy of someone like you."
"If you have the time. This story is a bit longer."
"There's always enough time for a good story." he answered. "The fleet will not leave until tomorrow. You may take your time." Seeing that he was really interested in hearing her tale, she lowered her head in a slight, respectful bow, took a sip of her wine and searched through her memories, beginning her story with a question.
"Have you ever heard of a certain Spanish captain named Armando Salazar?"