Pirates of the Caribbean: Bloody Water

Disclaimer: Anything POTC does not belong to me. I'm just borrowing it for a little while…. I swear I'll give it back.

Rating: M

AN: Thanks to Brigitte for the review! It was great to hear from one of my readers!


Chapter 31: Heart

Clang!

Beckett's sword met Cecily's sword with crushing force. Cecily knocked away his sword with her own and swiped at his torso. His blade pushed hers downward, away from its intended target. She stepped backwards and Beckett took advantage of her retreat to charge her and ram his sword towards her abdomen. Cecily darted off to the side, cursing. She was on the defensive now. He raced at her and she rushed backwards around his desk. Swinging her sword angrily, she leapt forwards at him, taking him by surprise. A dodge to the side just barely saved his one remaining ear. Cecily took full advantage of his surprise and kept coming at him, her sword flying viciously in all directions. Beckett was thrown off and barely managed to block and dodge, moving backwards rapidly. His foot caught his chair, and he stumbled, hitting the floor. Cecily dashed forward, her sword angled to penetrate his chest, but was stopped by his foot in her stomach. She flew backwards, landing with a crash in one of his many bookshelves. Beckett jumped to his feet, and raced towards her.

Before he could use his weapon on her, Cecily rolled off to the side and leapt to her feet. Beckett turned on her, and she held him off by the point of her sword. For a moment, the two of them danced about unproductively, and then Beckett took a chance, leaping forward and swiping his sword at her face. Cecily stumbled back, saving her face but not her chest. His blade caught her at the shoulder, and slashed a long slit in her shirt and in her skin. Blood seeped out in a long straight line from her shoulder and past her collarbone. Beckett smirked.

"I seem to have the advantage, Commodore," he said.

Cecily laughed at him. "Don't be ridiculous. That's nothin' but a surface wound." Saying this, she lunged at him, and Beckett hopped backwards, barely dodging the point of her sword.

The two of them clanged swords repeatedly, still prancing about the office. Cecily's blade caught him at the fingers, causing him to drop his weapon. Blood spurted from his hand. Cecily leapt forward, swinging her sword at his neck. Beckett ducked, hitting the floor, and grabbed her ankle. With a mighty tug, he knocked her off her feet. Cecily instinctively rolled over on her side as he scrambled back from her, snatching his lost sword. She sat up as his sword swung into her skull. Cecily managed to duck the worst of the blow, but still got a slash on the side of her head. Beckett brought his sword down on top of hers, knocking it from her hand, and then stood up, swinging his heavy boot into her temple.

She fell sideways to the floor. He stood over her, a slight smirk on his face. His sword tore through her shirt, ripping open her sleeve by the elbow, and cutting through her torso. Although the wound seemed deep, Cecily doubted it had done any serious damage. His knee stabbed her in the stomach, and she grunted with pain despite herself. He squeezed her throat in one hand, jerking her face up to his own. Then he dropped her violently on the floor after she unexpectedly slugged him in the side of the head. Beckett tumbled sideways.

Cecily kicked him off her, grabbing hold of her sword and stumbling to her feet. The sword came crashing down towards Beckett's head, and he rolled out of the way, standing up awkwardly. He was weaponless. Cecily charged him, but he grabbed a hold of the desk chair and threw it at her. The furniture hit her hard in the chest and knocked her to the floor. Cecily barely managed to hold onto her sword as she hit the ground. Painfully, she struggled to shove the chair off of her, and tried to sit up, gasping for the air that the impact had knocked out of her. Beckett, grabbing his lost sword, moved in for the kill.

Her sword flew up to meet his with surprising force, stopping him just before he stabbed her through the throat. Then she kicked him in the stomach, sending him toppling backwards. Her hand closed around the leg of the chair lying beside her. As Beckett sat up, sword in hand, and lunged forward at her, she swung the chair up and into his face. Beckett flew to the side, hitting the desk violently, and dropping to the floor. Bruised and bloodied, he sat up, spitting out one solitary tooth. Cecily lunged forwards, her sword aimed for his heart – but he blocked her blade just enough that the cutlass pierced deep within his shoulder instead. She yanked it out of his skin, giving the sword a vicious twist as she did so, and smirking with satisfaction as he hollered in pain. Then she attempted the fatal blow a second time. Beckett managed to roll out of the way. He scrambled to his feet, holding his sword unsteadily, and clutching the desk beside him for support. Cecily, in all honesty, was not faring much better. Her entire body was sore, her breath was difficult to draw, and she was bleeding from her head and her torso.

Both Beckett and Cecily lunged forward at the same time. They clashed swords for a few moments, and then Cecily gave him a sharp kick in the shins. Already unstable on his feet, Beckett toppled to the floor. Cecily kicked his hand as hard as she could, and the sword flew from his grasp. Then she lifted her sword high up over her head, holding it in both hands, and plunged it down deep within his chest.

Beckett gave a cry of pain that was half gasp and half squeal. Blood blossomed all around the blade of the sword, soaking through his expensive shirt. Cecily twisted the sword around inside his chest, and then yanked it backwards, out of his flesh. He gave another cry of agony. Cecily bent over and grasped the collar of his shirt in her hands, jerking him up in a sitting position. She leaned over him, her lips close to his only remaining ear. "Thank ye fer the opportunity to fulfill me dearest wish," she drawled into his ear. "I was just so afraid I'd ne'er get to see ye die."

Then she dropped him back to the floor unceremoniously. He hit the ground with a loud thud. Beckett stared up at her, desperately trying to catch his breath. Suddenly, he coughed, and his blood flew up and out of his mouth, splattering on her cheek.

Cecily brushed it away, apparently unaffected by the gore. Then Beckett's gasps for air stopped, and his eyes rolled back in his head. She nudged him in the side with the toe of her boot and received no response. The great Lord Cutler Beckett was dead.

She sheathed her bloody sword and looked around the room. Her vision blurred momentarily, and she grabbed the desk before her to steady herself. As her vision came back into focus, her eyes fell on the corner of the room where Beckett had appeared at the very beginning of the battle. A very small door, much like the door on a cupboard, was slightly open. Cecily limped over to the open door. If the door had been closed, she doubted she would have ever noticed it. It was modeled to blend in with the wood of the wall. She opened it all the way, finding a large, ornate looking chest.

She hefted it out of the cubbyhole, grimacing with its weight, and lugged it over to the desk, where she dropped it heavily on the desktop. It was obviously locked, and Cecily looked around the room again, biting her lip. Where would Beckett have hidden the key?

On his person, of course. She bent over Beckett's corpse, and began to rifle through his pockets. Suddenly, a black rope tied around his neck caught her eye. It was old and cheap looking, so Cecily had a hard time believing he'd be wearing it if it wasn't important for some reason. She hooked her little finger under the rope and pulled it out from where it was hiding under Beckett's white shirt. At the end of it was a long, black, ancient-looking key.

Cecily jerked the rope from around his neck. She returned to the chest and inserted the key in the lock. It fit. She gave it a turn and the chest unlocked. Slowly, she opened the chest and peered curiously within.

Despite herself, she gagged slightly. A large, pink, veiny heart sat in the corner of the chest. As she stared at it, it thumped loudly, shaking the chest. She had found it. Cecily had found Davy Jones' heart.

As she stared at the beating heart, she found her resolve weaken. The innocently beating heart sat there in the open, completely vulnerable. Without even realizing it, Cecily drew her dagger from its home in her boot. She fingered it anxiously, watching greedily as the heart continued to thump. Raising the dagger threateningly, she prepared to stab it through the organ.

Suddenly, as though awaking from a trance, Cecily realized what she was doing. She was so surprised, she dropped her dagger, and it fell to the floor with a clatter. "What the bloody hell do I think I'm doing?" she whispered to herself.

For a moment, she stood there, staring at the beating heart in the open chest, unsure how to proceed. She found herself glancing over at the fallen dagger almost longingly. If she stabbed the heart… as captain of the Flying Dutchman, she would have unlimited power. She'd have control of the seas, control of the men who sailed them, and she'd have immortality. If she stabbed the heart, she would be the most feared and famous pirate on the seas. If she stabbed the heart, she would live forever.

A pang of fear shot all through her body. Cecily tried to ignore it – she hated feeling afraid – but it persisted. A shiver traveled down her spine. All men feared death to some extent; that was just facts. If she stabbed the heart, then…

Her train of thought was interrupted by another shiver of fear. Suddenly, Cecily realized what the matter was. As much as she may or may not fear death, she feared living forever much more.

It was kind of a silly thing to be afraid of, she thought to herself. But in that moment, it became quite clear to Cecily that the last thing she wanted was immortality. Her resolve strengthened, she slammed the chest shut and locked it once again. Then she pocketed the key and returned her dagger to the sheath in her boot.

She glanced over at Beckett's body. From outside the office, she could hear the battle raging on. They could keep fighting – after all, they had the Navy ships outnumbered, and they had Davy Jones on their side. There was no way the Navy ships could win now, especially now that Cecily had the heart.

But if they slaughtered every last one of those soldiers out there, well… then Norrington and Matthews could never return to their positions in the Navy.

Cecily nearly took her own temperature. What stopped her was the fact that she had no way of doing any such thing. Still, she couldn't help but wonder what exactly had brought that thought on. What did she care if Norrington and Matthews got kicked out of the King's Navy? It was no skin off her nose, really. Why should she help them, and for nothing in return?

The answer was obvious, but Cecily tried her best to ignore it. The thought she had formed in her head persisted, however, and finally she had to acknowledge it. Norrington and Matthews had done her a great service by joining her fleet when she needed troops. Both of them had probably been the most loyal out of all the captains in her fleet, and while Norrington had been known to question her authority, he had also been known to, well… never mind.

Cecily sighed. All right, that was it then. She was going to have to end this battle now if she wanted to help the two Navy officers regain their positions. And despite the fact that everything in her told her she was crazy, she really did want to help them.

Cecily bit her lip, a plan forming in her head. She unsheathed her sword, and strode over to Beckett's corpse. Kneeling on the floor, she removed his wig and hat from his head and grasped his hair tightly in her hand. Then she sawed through his neck with her sword, not stopping until she had completely severed his head from his body.

She sheathed her sword and tucked the chest under her arm. Grasping Beckett's head by his hair, she stormed through the office doors and shoved her way through the battle raging outside, forcing her way up the stairs and to the helm. She slammed the chest into the head of the man at the wheel, and he toppled sideways, falling unconscious to the deck. Already, the sight of her carrying a head had drawn quite a bit of attention to Cecily, and many of the men had stopped fighting to stare at the pirate commodore. She leapt up where everyone could see her and drew her pistol – rather awkwardly, considering the amount of stuff she was already carrying – and fired it up into the air, bellowing, "Look up here, lassies! Yer lord's been sent to meet his!"

She hefted the head up high above her own, waving it for all to see. Everyone around her slowly began to lower their weapons and turn to stare at her. Beckett's men looked positively ill. In all fairness, so did many of Cecily's troops. As things aboard the Endeavor slowly quieted, the quiet began to spread to the other ships in the vicinity.

Cecily tossed the head down into the throng below her. The men standing where she'd aimed leapt back to avoid the gruesome missile. They stared at her in horror and disgust. She found, oddly enough, that this didn't bother her in the least. "Yer Lord Beckett is dead, lassies," she repeated. "Now drop yer weapons and surrender to yer conquerors, or I'll be forced to give ye all the same treatment!"

Lord Beckett's first mate dashed up the stairs to meet her, fury in his eyes. "We will never surrender!" he shouted, going for his sword.

Cecily's response was a heavy fist to the side of his face. The man fell to the deck. In all truthfulness, the maneuver had surprised Cecily as much as the people around her. Her reaction had been pure instinct. The man stared up at her in shock. She cocked her pistol and pointed it at him, waving the chest in his face. At the sight of the chest, all the men gasped. "Surrender," she repeated. "Or face the Locker."

All around her, men were beginning to drop their swords and pistols. Her crewmen were looking more and more cheerful by the moment. The Endeavor's first mate stared at her, disgust in his eyes. Finally, he announced, "We surrender."

"What's that, darling?" Cecily asked, leaning closer and grinning cheekily. "Speak up so e'eryone can hear ye."

"We surrender!" he shouted, refusing to meet her eyes.

"Ye hear that?" she thundered. "They surrender! Lasses and lads, round 'em all up. No one dies unless they try somethin' funny, ye hear me?"

Slowly, the order circulated around to all the ships. From her place at the helm of the Endeavor, Cecily could see the Navy men of Beckett's fleet being more or less peacefully subdued. For a moment, Cecily stared at the sight before her with disbeleif. Her ragtag pirate fleet had actually won the battle. Beckett's reign was over.

She surveyed the deck of the Endeavor. "I've been known to be merciful be'ore," she shouted. "So don't push me, and ye'll all live. Lasses and lads, escort these men to the brig, and prepare to tow these ships!"

"Aye, aye!" was heard all around the ship, and the ships closest to the Endeavor. Again, the order was circulated throughout the entire fleet. Cecily jumped down from where she had been standing, watching carefully as her crewmen gathered up the crew of the Endeavor and began hustling them below. She strode over to one of the many boarding planks, swinging the chest from her right hand. Norrington, who had taken Gillette prisoner, passed the captain over to one of Cecily's other crewmen and intercepted her. "You look terrible," he announced.

Cecily supposed he was right. She was covered in dirt, bleeding in three places, and most likely pretty bruised as well. On top of this, she was still having slight difficulty breathing. In all likeliness, Beckett's little trick with the chair had probably broken a rib or two. Still, no one wants to hear they look terrible.

She surveyed the Navy man. He, too, was very dirty, and also bleeding in a few places. "Ye don't look so good yerself," she returned cheekily.

Norrington smirked, rather ruefully. Then he switched subjects. "What are you doing?" he asked curiously.

Cecily blinked up at him. "What does it look like?" she returned.

"It looks like you're showing the Navy men mercy, and not killing them all," he replied. "And while I certainly am glad about that, I'm curious as to the sudden kindness."

She smirked at him. "What? Ye don't think I can be kind?" With that, she left Norrington standing on deck of the Endeavor, looking after her with bewilderment.

As she boarded the Sunrise, she saw Will Turner fighting his way across the Pearl towards her ship. If she hadn't been looking for him, she probably wouldn't have noticed his efforts. At least the lad understood the concept of subtlety.

She strode across the deck of her ship towards her office. Marjorie was standing close by the office door, shouting orders concerning the prisoners taken aboard the Sunrise. "Marjorie," Cecily barked as she passed her first mate. "Send for Captain Barbossa. Tell him he's wanted in me office."

"Aye, Cap'n," Marjorie returned, giving her a nod. Cecily entered her office and closed the door behind her.

Cecily sat the chest on her desktop, breathing out rather shakily. A quick glance out her window told her that Davy Jones and his ship had disappeared beneath the sea once again. She wasn't surprised. Undoubtedly, he had opted to recruit his prisoners into his crew rather than follow orders. Cecily supposed this was only fair. She had, after all, opted to give his heart to someone else, and present yet another person with the opportunity to stab it.

Still, she was nervous. She had no idea when Jones would appear on her ship, looking to collect her debt. If only Barbossa or Turner would hurry up and come for the heart before the immortal pirate captain did, then she would feel more at ease.

She looked around the room, trying to find a place to hide the chest. Settling on her bookshelf, she strode over to the furniture in question and began removing books and knickknacks to make room for the chest.

As she did this, she heard a slight noise. Freezing, she placed the book she had just removed from the shelf back where she'd taken it from. Then, fingering her pistol, she turned towards the sound.

Thud! Something huge and heavy collided with Cecily's skull. Pain exploded throughout her head. Then her vision swam and faded to black, and she crumpled to the floor.