The Siren Song was a pirate galleon painted bright red, and was quite a sight to behold. The plan, as Barbossa had told them, was for the crew to board and follow orders as commanded by their new leader, Captain Frees. Frees was making his way southward in search of jumping rum smugglers on their way back from the southern continent. This was exactly the direction the Jack rescue party needed to go, as they needed to travel around the southern tip this land mass in order to head back north towards Singapore. They were to remain under Frees's command until Barbossa felt the time was right to act. Rose felt rather unsettled at the fact that her and the rest of the crew's fate lay in the hands of Barbossa and Barbossa alone, and she could tell the others felt the same. But they had no choice but to follow his lead, and so there they were, making their way up the gangplank of a foreign vessel.

As they crested the deck, a tall man with long hair placed a hand forcefully on Barbossa's chest, stopping their progress. Rose could see Barbossa's eyes flare with rage at being so forcefully handled, and could tell that it was taking every ounce of willpower to keep from cutting this man down right then and there.

"Hey, you lot," the man sneered. "Just where d'ya think you're goin'?"

"Stand down, ya bloomin' cockroach!" yelled another man. "These be the new recruits," said he. He had a hard, weather worn face and a dark, black beard. He wore a large black hat with a Jolly Roger insignia printed atop it and a red coat that almost matched the rest of his ship. "Greetin's, Barbossa."

"Cap'n Frees!" Barbossa greeted, taking off his hat and giving an elaborate bow. With a frantic flip of his wrist, he motioned for the others to do the same. They all bowed their heads, except for Rose who kept staring defiantly ahead. Upon rising, Barbossa began introductions. "I'd like ya to meet my colleagues. Master Gibbs, a smart gent with a keen eye for navigation. Cotton, a mute, but a natural on the wheel. Ya need a gunner? Marty's your man. Masters Pintel and Ragetti, strong deckhands and valiant fighters. And young Master Turner, well…don't let his fair looks deceive ya. He be the strongest of 'em all, I assure ya."

They all waited for Barbossa to continue, but he stopped introductions there. It was then that Rose, Elizabeth and Tia Dalma all exchanged a glance. They were standing behind the men, and were therefore hidden from view, but it hadn't occurred to them up until then that Barbossa had arranged them that way on purpose.

Frees was no fool, however. He leaned around Barbossa's large hat and got a better glimpse at the three women. "And who be the lasses?" he asked humorlessly.

Barbossa turned around to follow his gaze, as if to pretend like he had no idea who he was talking about. Rose rolled her eyes at seeing how flustered he was.

"Them?" Barbossa stuttered. "Oh, no one. Just passengers travellin' aboard."

Frees raised an eyebrow. "They be not a part of our deal. I said pirates, not passengers."

"We are pirates," Elizabeth cried from the back of the group. She then grabbed a hold of Rose's arm and put her hand on Tia's back and led them both to the front of the group to address Frees herself. "This is Tia Dalma, an excellent doctor we have travel with us. Haven't lost a soul yet under her watch," she said confidently. "And this is Hexfury and I am Swann, and we are as good as any of the men you see before you." Rose gave a sidelong glance at Elizabeth, a bit taken aback by the unexpected compliment.

Frees looked impressed by Elizabeth's speech. "Very well then," he conceded. "Pintel, Ragetti, join the team to weigh anchor. Turner, on the mizzen. Ms. Dalma, below decks at the sick bay. Cotton, Marty, below deck to aid in storage. Swann and Hexfury, join the rig team. Prepare to make sail, ya filthy bilge rats!"

Rose and Elizabeth exchanged a glance as they each scurried to take their positions. Rose had never rigged a thing in her life, but had no choice but to learn in the given moment.

While they worked, Frees slapped Barbossa on the back. "What's say you to the wheel?" he asked.

Barbossa heartily agreed, not being accustomed to doing hard menial labor since his youth. Before he left, however, Frees grabbed him by the arm. "I won't tolerate a dishonest streak aboard my ship," he said warningly.

Barbossa grinned weakly. "Of course!"

"Then what of the women, then?"

"Just slipped my mind, I assure ya," Barbossa lied.

Frees pursed his lips skeptically. "They may work aboard as long as yer aware of the risk of bringin' them with my lot of villains n' knaves."

As though expertly rehearsed, just at that moment, a commotion on deck caused both captains' attention to be drawn to the main mast, where a scuffle was underway. One of the men on the rig team had come at Elizabeth from behind, and defensively, she elbowed him square in the chest, sending him toppling backwards. He quickly recovered and charged at her, but Elizabeth immediately drew her sword. Before he was able to get anywhere close to her however, Rose leapt in his path and used the heel of her hand to smash his nose. Blood spewed vigorously out of his nostrils, and he instantly recoiled, much to the glee of his colleagues who howled at him as he retreated in defeat.

"Believe you me," Barbossa then said to Frees. "The ladies'll be just fine."


I wish I could report that this was the last time any of the women encountered prejudice while onboard the Siren Song, but alas, that would be an outright lie.

Rose, Elizabeth, Tia Dalma and the rest of the crew rarely interacted in the weeks that followed, only when their paths would cross while put on the same duty. Despite not knowing much else about ship duties except what Anamaria had taught her, Rose quickly picked up upon more tasks, such as rigging, sail repairs, swabbing and tarring the deck, carpentry, and learning the inner workings of the ship's cannons. She worked from sunup to sundown, and masked her night blindness well. She refused to sleep below decks with the rest of the crew, opting instead to stay in the crow's nest for the entire night. This was for several main reasons; For one, she could not handle the stifling heat and stench that accompanied the crew's shared living quarters. Two, her nightmares wouldn't allow her much rest anyways. And three, there came a certain amount of solace sitting in her blindness at the crow's nest, a reminder of the last happy night she spent with Ben.

She undoubtedly worked harder than any other man aboard, and her constant work made her hands grow rough with wear and her skin grow evermore tan. She could tell from worried glances with Will and Gibbs that they thought at times she was working a bit too hard, but she cared not; It was oddly therapeutic to be so preoccupied. She didn't have time to mourn Ben, or Jack, or her mother, or the gypsies, or her absent father, or the trust she once had for Tia Dalma. The busier she kept herself, the stronger she became both physically and emotionally. Or at least, that's what she thought.

Despite her efforts, one day, a stout man with a gray beard began to antagonize her.

"Oi, gypsy girl," he called out to her one day, feeding off of the encouragement of a few friends.

This man, Rose had come to find out, was a Frenchman by the name of Canet. As such, he was keenly aware of the look of the mountain gypsies, and quickly associated Rose with that very group.

Rose had learned to say nothing, as her rage would only incite further teasing. She kept silently tying up a line, pretending not to hear him.

He walked close to her. "Oi, gypsy girl!" he repeated. "Read my fortune."

Rose looked up at him, face stoic.

"Read my fortune, I say!" he spat. He then leaned closer, his black teeth excreting a horrid stench right at her that she recoiled from. "You see moi et vous, yes? A little moonlight, a little romance, then I begin to take off—"

He never finished his vulgar thought, however for his mouth kept moving without a voice accompanying it. He face suddenly changed in horror, and his hands leapt to his throat in alarm. He opened his mouth wider, and wider still, yet no sound emerged. Rose's eyes were wide in surprise, but then she looked around the horrid man to see Tia Dalma standing at the forecastle deck with her finger raised, a large grin on her face.

Rose rolled her eyes, tied off the rope and walked away from Canet, who continued to scream silently, as though the harder he tried, the better chance he had at reversing Tia Dalma's magic. Rose also continued her walk to avoid Tia.

She heard her race down the deck towards her however, so Rose increased her pace.

"Wait!" Tia cried out, sidestepping around her so that she blocked her path.

"I don't need your help," Rose snapped, trying once more to go around her.

Tia countered again, however, holding her arms out as wide as they could go. "Da song has been sung, Rose. The Brethren Court 'as been called."

Rose narrowed her eyes. "That boy you cursed with your magic piece of eight started it?"

"Aye."

"And why does that concern me?"

Tia said nothing to this, just staring intently at Rose for a time. Finally, she said intensely, "Dere be a touch of destiny aboud you."

"Enough of the prophecies, Tia!" Rose cried in frustration. "I don't want to hear anymore! You seem to have known everything as it has come to pass, keeping things from me that you know will destroy me and making me doubt everything that I am with what you do tell me! Would I have fallen in love with Ben again had the fact that he was undead made him fit your prophecy that I marry a dead man? Would I be in such pain?" Rose shook with anger. She then swallowed, pushing back the hair that stuck to the sweat that had gathered on her forehead. She then tentatively asked the question that had been ruminating in her for over two weeks now. "Would Jack still be alive had I not stayed behind with you to try to kill Barbossa?"

Tia said nothing to this, and only gulped.

"You told me to 'find him and keep him safe!' So answer me, then! If I hadn't left the Black Pearl and hadn't stayed with you in the bayou, would Jack have died?" Once more, Tia only stared at her. "WOULD HE?" she shouted.

Tia started, and sullenly replied, "No."

Even though Rose wanted to hear an answer, this answer instantly brought tears to her eyes. "Explain," she whispered.

Tia's eyes grew sorrowful as she said slowly, "Him tried to run away from da Pearl as she be sinkin'. Him thought to flee ta save himself. Him later come back, but da time it took let Jones's mighty Kraken have enough time ta get da best of da crew. If you be onboard as him attacked, ya know witty Jack wouldn't have eva left. Da fight would have been won, him Pearl been safe n' sound, n' da monsta be defeated."

Rose's mouth was agape and the tears fell down her cheeks, and she clutched both her and Jack's pendants he had given her the last time they ever spoke. Deep down, she always knew that if she had stayed with him, things would have turned out differently. All that kept racing through her mind was one of the last things he said to her: "You'll lose. There's no point in fighting this fight." He was right, as always. He knew even as he killed Barbossa with the only bullet in his gun back on the Isla de Muerta that his enemy would have to return as he was a Pirate Lord without a successor. There truly was no point, and because of her rash behavior, her brother was dead.

"I knew it," Rose whispered, wiping her cheeks and then spinning on her heel to leave.

"Rose…" Tia cried after her, but this time she dared not pursue her.

All Rose wanted to do was have a moment alone, but Barbossa was suddenly directly in her path.

"Enough with yer dramatics," he ordered, placing a loaded pistol in her hand. "Meet the rest of our crew by the Captain's quarters."

"What?" Rose asked, completely disoriented. "Wha-why?"

"The time has come. We're either mutinying, or we're making an accord."