The Caribbean waters are unusually still, black and glittering as the sun starts to rise over the horizon. The mermaid glides smoothly under the water, slicing her tail through the gentle waves. She swims closer to shore, and recognizes a familiar structure in the distance. Docks is what they call them, she remembers briefly. With a flick of her tail she breaks through the water's surface for a breath, her long black hair sticking to her shoulders. Her grey eyes flit over to the docks, scanning for any signs of potential motion. Dawn was always the most opportune time to search for unsuspecting sailors. Today it seemed the docks were empty, which was a rare occurrence. The mermaid frowned and knitted her brow—clearly disappointed. She allowed herself to sink partially underneath the water again, but kept her eyes above the water. She softly blew bubbles from her mouth into the water as she considered her options. From this vantage point, she always had been able to watch the sailors, and pick which ships would be her prey. The sound of voices pulled her from her thoughts. Instinctively, she shot beneath the water alarmed that someone may have seen her when she thought she was alone. Rarely was she ever caught off guard, because usually that meant she would be caught. After a few moments of waiting beneath the water, satisfied that she was not seen, she slowly allowed herself to softly break through the waters surface again just enough to chance a peek at the docks—maybe she would be in luck today. Still empty. She narrowed her eyes when she heard the voices again. Her head snapped right towards the voices, where she just made out two figures walking in the water, a fair distance away from her. This would be too easy, she thought wickedly as she ran her tongue along her razor sharp teeth.

The mermaid swam lazily towards them, guarded by the boulders and rocks that hid her from their view. Something not quite right struck her about the two figures that became clearer as she swam closer. One of them was a woman. The mermaid was both mystified, because she had never seen a human woman before, but altogether annoyed because this ruined her plan. She had no use for women. Calypso had forbade mermaids from harming them. Still, intrigued by how unusually far they were from the dock—humans don't usually do that—the mermaid watched from behind a large boulder as the couple made their farther into the water before stopping. The man took the woman's hands in his own as he turned to face her. His hair hung in ringlets pulled back by a bandana, and his eyes were as black as coal. He was dressed simply in black breeches and a billowing white shirt that was partially unbuttoned at the chest, revealing a rather large and terrible red scar against his tanned skin. Even from here, it was clear he was a sailor. He was well-muscled, and his clothes bore salt stains. It was the earring that gave him away though, a single golden hoop shone against his left ear. He seemed entirely focused on the woman standing in front of him. There was an air of tragedy about him—them. Swimming softly to her right, still shielded from their view, the mermaid was able to see the profile of the woman that so intrigued her. What were they doing here?

The woman, even by mermaid standards, was beautiful, if a little pale. High cheekbones and a prominent nose, with dirty blonde hair spilling over her shoulders in gentle waves. She was wearing a simple blue dress, with the skirts half-soaked from the water, and a heavy shawl about her shoulders that covered her midsection. Odd, the mermaid thought, to be wearing such a thing in the dead of summer. But it was the way she looked at the sailor that caught the attention of the mermaid. Still clutching both his hands, the woman looked at him as though he might disappear at any moment. Her lips pressed in a thin line, delicate eyebrows furrowed slightly, and the shadows beneath her eyes gave her an overall distressed demeanour. Just then, a gust of wind blew her shawl backwards, revealing a rounded stomach— she was heavily pregnant.

"Will, when you go, I fear you will never return again." she spoke to the man. So he was a sailor.

The man took one of his hands from her grasp as he softly cupped her cheek. "Calypso let me return this time, she'll let me return again." he responded gently. The mermaid was even more intrigued, how did they know Calypso?

"Perhaps I should make a habit of getting deathly ill, " the woman deadpanned. Will chuckled softly and dropped his hand from her cheek, "I'd rather you didn't." Growing serious, he added "I will serve my time Elizabeth, and then I intend to return to you, forever."

At this, the woman— Elizabeth— moved to touch her forehead to Will's. "To us," she amended softly, with a slight smile. William moved his hand over her rounded stomach and conceded, "To both of you."

Movement from her right startled the mermaid as she looked away from the couple towards what she instantly recognized to be the Flying Dutchman swaying in the distance. Something was not quite right about it— it was cleaner, no longer covered with coral and barnacles. Suddenly, she remembered the rumour of Davy Jones' death, that a new captain, younger, had supposedly taken his place. Was that not just a rumour? she thought as she turned her head back towards the couple. He was kneeling in the water now, one hand on Elizabeth's waist and the other on her swollen abdomen. His gaze was impossibly gentle as he whispered something softly to the unborn child, though the mermaid could not hear what he was saying. Elizabeth had one hand on his shoulder and the other furiously wiping away tears from her cheeks as if to remove all evidence of having cried. The man seemed to finish what he was saying and stood back up, pulling the woman into a tight embrace as she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder.

He pulls away slightly to look at her, "I love you, Elizabeth." The woman seems to be at a loss for words as she smiles despite the tears still rolling down her face, and pulls him in for a kiss. "I'll be waiting, Will Turner.", she says, her voice teasing but shaky. "Keep a weather eye on the horizon.", he responds before disappearing. The mermaid feels her throat drying and becoming hoarse from lack of water, but she cannot tear her gaze away from the woman, who is now looking longingly at the Flying Dutchman in the distance. The mermaid cocks her head to the side as she considers what she has overheard, so the rumours are true. A flash of green suddenly brightens the sky and the Dutchman has disappeared, much like the man did a few seconds ago. The woman casts one last look where the Dutchman used to be, before turning and walking slowly towards shore. She covers her midsection with her hands, and starts singing softly, "My heart is pierced by Cupid, I disdain all glittering gold, There is nothing can console me but my jolly sailor bold."

The mermaid recognizes the sea shanty and smiles, She is one of the sea.