Calypso watched as the ship sailed away from the Locker. Everything was going according to plan – she hardly had to lift a finger to bring her captain back from his Locker. She had even managed to weaken the girl to the point where Jones would have to leave her alone to heal. While the whelp's determination was to be admired, her wish to be back on her feat would not replenish her health. She would be bedridden for a few days at least, which was plenty of time for her.
She would allow them to leave the dreaded place, and during that time of peace, the girl's hope would build.
...only to be crushed by the might of the goddess of the sea. The girl would learn not to meddle in things that she had no business in, just before she perished.
Calypso watched the ship fade into the distance and smiled.
/
Cass awoke with a jolt. She looked about the cabin to see what had caused her to wake, only to find the room empty.
She knew she was still too weak to leave the cabin unassisted, and she knew that she could admit no weakness to the men aboard the vessel. To do so would be to shake their already wavering loyalty to a female captain, no matter the reputation that preceded her.
Despite the knowledge that she would not be able to leave, she tried her legs nonetheless. She wanted to see Jones again.
She was able to sit up, allowing the muscles in her back to stretch and burn from their sudden use. It occurred to her then that she did not know how long she had been unconscious. Had they escaped the Locker? Or were they still in the dreaded place?
While she knew she had to rescue Jones from the Locker, she had not been certain that she would succeed. It was for this reason that she did not formulate a plan in advance, and now was uncertain of how to proceed. Should she make for land, and give the two of them a chance of escaping Calypso? She certainly didn't want that. The sea was her home, and she would not be displaced so easily.
Running was the smartest option, but sometimes Cass was not willing to be smart. She had other things to consider. She had died once already. If it meant fighting Calypso to the best of her ability, she was square with dying a second time.
But there was also Jones to consider. He had been strangely distant since she was brought back aboard her vessel, which unnerved and saddened Cass. Did he no longer want her? Had she failed him in some way?
Shuddering, she attempted to stand. She managed a few seconds before her trembling knees buckled and she fell to the floor gasping in pain and surprise.
She hated that she had become so weak. She hadn't been this helpless since before she boarded the Pearl for the first time. Was this why Jones was distancing himself from her? Had she become too weak for him?
Grunting, Cass pulled herself to her feet again, leaning heavily against the wall and waiting for her heart to stop hammering. It took a few moments but her breathing evened out once more. Her feet were numb and her legs unsteady, but she stayed upright for a few minutes.
Never mind failing Jones, she was failing herself if she couldn't manage to walk.
And so she did.
Slowly at first, she walked about her quarters. Her legs burned but she carried on until she could walk with no support. Her body remembered its old strength and all was suddenly a bit more alright.
Her hand dropped to her hip where the hilt of her sword usually was, only to grasp at empty space. Her eyes searched the room from the thing that had kept her alive for so long. Perhaps Jones had moved it so she wouldn't stab anyone who dared interrupted her slumber. However, that had only happened once, and the man had been fine. Mostly.
Maybe 'mostly' was an overstatement. That still did not give anyone, even Jones, the right to take what was hers. Especially something that important to her survival.
She would prefer the coming years, as it turned out. What that would mean, she did not know. She did know she was going to go find Jones and ask him to clarify what had happened in her absence.
Donning the coat she had left behind when entering the Locker, she walked into the blazing light of midday. She attempted to put as much of her old swagger into her step as she marched about, looking for the tall bearded man.
She drew the eyes of the crew toiling about the deck, but none dared approach her. As she passed the central mast, she debated taking her old place in the crow's nest. She did miss those days aboard the Pearl, even if they were not so far in the past. Her path had been much more straightforward back then, and she had had people about her that she could consider friends.
But now Elizabeth wanted nothing to do with her insanity or her, and Jack was off who knew where, doing who knew what. The crew of the Dutchman were out of reach and wouldn't accept her in her weakened state. The very man she had lost so much for was avoiding her, and this crew she sailed with had no true loyalty to her.
Cass was alone, and did not enjoy it nearly as much as she thought she would.
She turned her eyes to the helm, checking to see if Jones was there. He was not. He wasn't anywhere she could see, actually. However, she did not know his new face as she knew his old one, so it was possible she had passed over him without realizing it.
Her hands grasped for the chain around her neck, seeking comfort in the feel of the large locket she kept tucked against her chest. Lifting the chain from her neck, she was surprised at how light it was. It was to her dismay that she found the locket was not attached to the chain any longer, and was not anywhere on her person at all.
She had to find Jones. She had not come this far for him just for him to toss her away so easily.
Cass roughly grabbed the nearest crew member, demanding to know if he had seen Jones. He jabbered in a language she could not understand, gesturing wildly with his hands as she held him at eye level by the lapels of his shirt.
Angrily, she released him, but not before grabbing the sword at his hip and tucking it into her belt. He could find another one. She stormed away, her anger building as she sought out someone she could understand.
She began searching the helm for the man she had spoken to when she had first emerged from the cabin after leaving Singapore. She assumed that, because he had been the first to speak to her, he must be of relatively high rank among the men. Cass did not remember his name, or even if it had been told to her at all.
The faces she saw instead were only vaguely familiar, as though she had seen them before but never had any reason to go beyond just seeing them. She was glad in that moment that her reputation preceded her and these strange men stayed far away from her.
She tried to not let the fear and uncertainty show in her face as s
he became more desperate. Scrambling for the anger that kept her centered so often, she struggled to keep her face stoic and unimpressed. Maybe it was in her best interest to return to her cabin until she was sure she could maintain her facade.
In the end she decided against it, and continued her search.
The top deck was devoid of any familiar faces, and so she made her way belowdecks, questioning men at random and hoping to be understood. She had no such luck, however, and continued her search as blindly as when she had started.
It was at this point that she began wondering if Jones had simply left. Recalling their last conversation, she wondered if he had heard the news of the Dutchman's fate and left to go reclaim it. Had that really been all she was? A means to an end?
Her anger was collapsing in on itself, giving way to grief and doubt. She most likely had been left here, in the middle of the sea, a sitting duck for Calypso to swoop down on and wipe from the face of the earth. Fear gripped her heart and her breaths faltered. But no, she could not be this weak. Even if Jones no longer cared for her company, she was determined to repay the goddess for the pain she had caused. Her goal was the same, even if the cause had changed.
It was then that she finally found the man who's name she did not know.
"Where is Jones?"
"Good to see you on your feet again, my lady." They spoke at the same time, and Cass almost laughed with relief at the sight of him and the recognition of her language.
"I have not been a lady all my life, mate," she said. "No need to call me anything but Captain."
He seemed amused by her comment. "I must admit I did not expect to see you walking so soon after your injury. The man who brought you aboard has said nothing of how you came to receive such wounds."
At the mention of Jones, her attention returned to the task at hand. She had allowed her mind to wander as he spoke, something she often did when people spoke of unnecessary things.
"Have you seen him? A few of my things have gone missing, and I have matters to discuss with him."
"Not in a few hours. Though he has hardly left your side throughout your recovery. You did not recognize him the last time you woke, so it will be a relief to him that you know him once more."
This surprised her. "I woke before this?"
"Only in fever dreams," he replied. "You screamed for Davy Jones, among a host of others. No matter what he said, he could not calm you. The only thing that brought you rest was the music from that strange locket you wear."
He had not left her after all. Was her mind playing tricks on her again? She was not used to this uncertainty. It was not what she allowed herself to be. Perhaps there were cracks in her walls against emotion. She would need to fix that.
"Where was he last?"
"The brig, I believe. Speaking to the other woman aboard. I had assumed there was only one of you, though I must have assumed incorrectly. Is she a friend of yours?"
Only two words registered within her mind. She knew where Jones was likely to be, and she knew without a doubt that she was right to take the sword when she had a chance.
'Other woman' could only be one woman.
"Tell me," she asked slowly, mentally checking over her body to see what she would be capable when worst came to worst. "Did we escape the Locker?"
"Yes we did. Six days ago."
Six days. Which meant she had been out at least that long. "You need to have the crew abandon ship. Be silent about it, and be quick. I do not know how much time I can buy you. Do not ask," she said as he opened his mouth to undoubtedly ask what was going on. "Just do. Do not wait for me."
And with that, she was running, searching for the brig. Hopefully the man would do as she said. While she was not adverse to bloodshed, she knew these men would only get in the way as she fought Calypso.
The time had come.
/
The pieces were in place, and just in time as well. Calypso knew the moment the whelp woke and knew her surroundings. She betrayed none of her knowledge on her face as she spoke to her captain. He was furious with her for the pain she had cased the lass, but knew she was capable of so much worse. He begged for her life without going so far as to beg.
She could scene his uncertainty at the lass seeing his true face and the slight fear that she would no longer want him as he wanted her. She would use it against the lass and bring him back to her side. Her plan was too perfect.
The sea goddess knew the lass was drawing near. The whelp was practically radiating fear. She probably knew who awaited her. It was satisfying, knowing the girl who feared nothing apparently feared something after all. Or someone, in this case.
Calypso herd the quick footsteps as they came closer, though Jones did not seem to notice. She withdrew the locket that she had stole from beside the whelp's head as she slept. She allowed it to open in her hand, the music playing faintly.
As the door to the brig opened and Cass walked in, Calypso planted her lips firmly on those of her old human lover and warped herself around him. His surprise kept him still, and his eyes away from the woman standing in front of him.
Calypso knew what it looked like. She had been counting on it. It was only after she heard the footsteps retreating that she released her captain, a smirk twisting her face. The whelp would not hear Jones' outraged yells as he shoved her away. She would be too far away, too caught up in her own thoughts.
And Jones had not seen her, so he would not know to follow her.
It had almost been too easy.