Okie Dokie, my thanks go to SoftlySpokenHeart, Salisha and TemptedResistation. Thanks a lot, I really appreciate, really I do!

Reply to Salisha:

Thanks a lot for the review! No, Beckett had nothing with it, I don't suppose he has any connection with what goes on in the kitchen (even if it's his house, imagine him cooking). And no, Magdalene is not related to Tia Dalma, but she's on her way to becoming a voodoo priestess like her. And trust me, Jack's appearance is getting real close. Thanks for the review!

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

"Umm, excuse me but who are you?" I asked.

She had a dark curtain of hair. Her skin was also dark and her eyes were slanted, just like a cat's with a dark green colour. She was also dressed in black. All in all, she looked like a very pretty seductress.

"I am Magdalene. A simple herbalist studying the mystical artifacts, currently residing in Port Royal," she replied. I also noticed that she had a slight accent, very like Tia Dalma's. "Do you know who your mother's father is?" she asked. "No, why should I? My father was kind enough to leave me a dagger before he disappeared." I replied sarcastically as I said of my father's said 'kindness'.

"May I see?" she asked extending her hand. "Sorry to disappoint you, but I gave it to someone," I said, "for safe keeping," I continued as soon as I saw her angry glance. 'Don't need angry witches as enemies.' "You are willing to part with your only family heirloom, left by your own father's mother herself?" she asked seething.

"Look, this" I said as I got up and gestured around my ridiculously pink room, "Is all my fault. For acting on stupid selfish impulse. Along with me, I brought down another person. Giving him my weapons and making sure he escapes, even though it means the end to my freedom, is the only way I could have helped." She looked at me with an incredulous expression.

"You have no idea-" "No, you have no idea! He faced the gallows because of me!" I exclaimed. She still looked unimpressed. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. "I've known this certain person for as long as I can remember. I just couldn't stand to see him being starved knowing that I could have done something, no matter how self destructive, to prevent it." she still looked unimpressed. 'God, this woman is driving me nuts.' I turned away from her and looked out to the sea.

"I-I love him, parting with a family heirloom is nothing compared to seeing him hung. If by giving it to him ensures his freedom, then so be it. It's the least I could do," I whispered. I was scared, there's no denying it, and confused. The thought of seeing Jack hung (or starved) made my insides turn to ice with dread. And confusion; sure I wouldn't have liked seeing a close friend hung. But Jack…I had a particular soft-spot for him. And I started to wonder, was it only attraction? However, my feeling of dread returned again, 'No, not only attraction, but much much more.'

"You love him?" Magdalene asked with a sort of hopeless tone. I realized what I had done. "I shouldn't have said that," I replied softly. "Well then, I don't have much to say. Captain Sparrow holds an intense liking to you, but is afraid to admit it to himself," she said. 'How…? Oh, witchy powers.' "And be careful," she continued.

She poured the bowl's foul-smelling mixture in a bottle and as soon as she screwed the cap, an intense exhaustion, starting from the base of my skull, spread in my body. If it wasn't for the bed-post, I'm sure I would have fell to the floor, for a wave of dizziness made me loose my sense of balance. Noticing this, Magdalene helped me get to bed.

She placed a bottle filled with a sweet-smelling ointment on the bedside table after pouring some of it on her hands. With this liquid, she rubbed my face, neck, chest and arms. "For the rash," she explained gently. On her face I noticed a kind and devoted look. She put everything in her leather-bag and walked towards the door.

"Magdalene, who was my father's mother?" I asked. I recognized a flash of uncomfortableness flash through her cat-like eyes. "I cannot say. You have to find out on your own," she replied. She turned around and opened the door. "Magdalene? Thank you," I said. "'Tis nothing. Think nothing of it. Now sleep, the ointment I gave you is too strong to remain awake while it works, even for you," she replied and closed the door gently behind her.

Probably it was by her magic, but as soon as she went away, I felt my eyes drooping with weariness till sleep cloaked my head and I was off to Dreamland.

~Later on~

The first thing I noticed (apart from darkness since my eyes were closed) was whispered voices in my room. "Yes, quite shocking," someone said. I recognized the voice to be the one belonging to Joan. "I know, but she'd be glad. Trust me, I know," someone else replied, Emma.

"But he's her fiancé! How could she be delighted that he didn't stay here?" "Weren't you listening to me when Magdalene was here? There's another person, she doesn't like Mr. Beckett." Emma replied. "You think she's cheating on him?" "No, I doubt it. He's out at sea," "You mean he's a pirate?" "Yes. Joan, don't repeat what I told you to anyone else. Beckett doesn't need to know, got it?"

"Don't worry, Emma. I'm just looking out for the girl myself as well. Now, that I get the picture, I hope that she finds a way to escape," Joan said. A door closed and someone shuffled around in my room. Sleep overcame me and, once again, I was dead to the world.

~Early in the morning~

I woke up when the sun's first rays were touching the cool sleepy port. I was quite astonished at myself; I had managed to sleep for a whole day and night. The bay window was slightly open, causing the curtain to billow softly in the morning Caribbean breeze. I drew in a shuddering breath, relishing in the feel of the cool sea-breeze against my nose, cheeks and lips.

I blinked my eyes; the room was bathed in a soft golden-rose light, casting everything in a different hue. I pushed myself in a sitting position, and immediately regretted it. A sharp pain reminded me of my stomach tenderness. If I drew in a deep breath, my lungs would start to burn and a dull throbbing had settled behind my eyeballs. I found it rather odd, that the sea's offerings would cause me such pain, considering I loved the sea so much. But there you are.

I refused to let myself feel weaker, so I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. A sane person wouldn't wake up at the crack of dawn, but I did. Maybe it was a sign of insanity? I don't know. Or maybe it was one of my sailor instincts. There wasn't much that I could do, so I decided to go sit at the window till Emma came to 'wake' me up.

The view was picturesque. The sea was a light blue colour with splashes of pink. The sky was a palette, ranging from soft pink to light red to golden orange to pale blue. Cotton clouds dotted the sky and a couple of ships were docked at the port, along with numerous boats. The wind billowed in, swirling my hair around my face. It was enough to bring back long lost memories.

"My Little Siren," my mother used to call me. I had always liked to sit at a window and watch the sun rise and set, with the wind ruffling my hair. I remembered my mother.

Her spiral-curled long hair was a fiery red and her eyes, as blue as the azure sea. Her skin was pale and soft. Her lips were full and pink in colour with a breath-taking heartwarming smile. Her figure was slender and on the short side. My mother was a true beauty.

However, I didn't inherit anything from her looks except her soft delicate face-features and slender frame. I wasn't very tall either. Just tall enough not to be short. I had inherited my other looks from my father; black wavy hair and dark eyes. My skin was considerably darker than my mother's however; I fell in the category of nicely tanned (dark olive skin).

As you know, I didn't know my father. And it was terribly hard for my mother to raise me as a single parent. So she found the easiest job. I don't mind admitting it, even though it makes me feel uncomfortable, my mother was a wench, a prostitute. She said that it was the only way she could keep taking care of me and bringing in money.

She had assured me that she had loved my father, even though he had left her with child (me) and an expensive dagger. My mother used to work only at night so during the day she'd be able to take care of me, not that I gave her the chance.

I was an unruly wild child, always running around and getting into trouble with Jack. Then at night, when my mother used to be 'at work', I used to sleepover at Jack's, since his mother was my mother's best friend. Before you ask, no Jack's mother didn't have my mother's profession. Teague kept her well supplied with gold and riches. Mind you, they didn't have a large house or what not, just enough to be slightly better off than most families (including mine) and sometimes (when times were hard) they used to help us as well. After all Teague had to keep his crew happy or risk mutiny.

Then I remembered Jack's mother. Loretta was her name, Loretta Sparrow, hence Jack's name (and no she wasn't married to Teague, though they loved each other just as good as). She looked just as delicate as my mother. She had straight long golden yellow hair and sparkling green eyes. Her skin was slightly more tanned than my mother's, but she was still pale. I smiled a small smile.

I had never really thought about it, but both Jack and I looked a lot like our fathers. I hadn't noticed but the sun had covered quite a distance in her journey. As soon as I noticed this, Emma opened the door softly.

Hope ya liked it, not much of a chapter, I know but I thought that I should give Pia a break since she was sick and all. Anyway, reviews are welcomed!