Rose ran as fast as her legs would carry her, rushing down the hill to small strip of beach that stretched the length of the harbor beneath the docks. She must have been quite the sight in her tattered and worn garments from Singapore, so she mostly kept to the shadows, pausing now and then to let the occasional passerby meander past her before proceeding. Halfway through the docks, she suddenly turned the opposite direction and rushed to the east side of the island. Will's blacksmith shop. If she was to gain passage aboard a ship of any sort, she would need protection. The blacksmith shop where Will took her and Ben before he rescued Jack would be the perfect place to restock.

She retraced the path she thought they had taken. It lead her to a dead end. She backed up and took another route. After some time of wandering hopelessly lost about the town, she finally saw the sign of the shop in the distance. She listened for any sound of movement behind the door, and when she found none, shouldered the door in and grabbed the nearest sword she could find.

The place had fallen to ruin since Will's departure, and the unmistakeable scent of brandy was stagnant the air. No inhabitant was present that she could find, however. Will's old employer must have been out to Church today, probably to seek recompense for his alcoholism. She searched the quarters with haste, finding a sheath and a sword sharper than the dull one she first grabbed, as well as a flintlock pistol. She found enough bullets and powder to last her, at most, a day. Regardless, it would do for what she needed at that moment.

Rose raced back to the docks as quick as she could. She spotted a small merchant cruiser nearby. Perfect. She slowed her pace and walked confidently, pistol cocked, toward the solitary inhabitant of the vessel.

When he looked up, he immediately dropped his work and raised his hands over his head in submission. "Whoa there, I don't be askin' fer no trouble now!"

"And trouble will not find you if you step away from the boat," Rose said warningly. He quickly obliged, trembling. Keeping her focus on the man, she still had the pistol pointed at him as they traded places; him on land and her inside the boat casting off towards the open sea. She only let her aim fall once she knew she was safe and out of range. She unfurled the small sail and kept to the coast for a time until she knew she would be out of immediate sight of the fort. Then, she steered the ship out into the open ocean. She then took the time to go through the stolen boat's contents and see what she had pirated. Her heart fell when she found only a few pieces of hardtack, five bottles of rum and no compass. She didn't exactly know the way, and these supplies were not going to last her any prolonged amount of time. She wouldn't be able to navigate by starlight on account of her night blindness…so Rose had to rely on the position of the sun alone. She steered the boat southward, and hoped with all her might that that was the proper direction of Shipwreck Cove.


Though I've asked her again and again, Rose can't remember how long she was there. With her only form of drink being rum, many of her memories are blurry, and she can't recall just how long she was adrift. All she can remember was that it was not going well. She would spend long nights alone in total darkness, starting at every slight noise or creak of the boat that would sound. Then, she would blink and all of a sudden sunlight would be burning her eyes. She would have fallen asleep, having lost control of the boat's direction and being cast off god knows where. The afternoons would get so hot that sometimes all she would be able to do was lie down, using torn bits of her skirt as a shield from the harsh light. Sometimes, it was so inescapable, that she would simply lie down, letting the heat surround her and the let the sweat drip down her face.

It was on one of these excruciatingly hot afternoons that Rose felt something beat against her face while she had her eyes closed. She instantly sat up and recoiled from it, uncertain of what had just happened. She realized that instead of the blaring sun, everything seemed slightly darker. That's when she looked up and saw that she had sailed right into the shadow of a massive vessel, and more importantly, it was not alone. She had sailed right into an entire fleet of ships.

"Oh god," Rose exclaimed, praying that it wasn't Company vessels that would lead her right back to Port Royal.

That's when Rose realized that the thing that had struck her was the end of a rope, for a man in the ship looming above her had slid down the length of the rope right into her boat, sword drawn and pointed right at her.

"Qui êtes-vous?" he barked.

French! Rose thought in elated joy! From his haggard appearance and language, Rose knew in an instant that these weren't Company men, they were pirates!

It had been so long since she had spoken her native tongue, but she was keen to try it again. "Monsieur, est-ce votre bateau?"

"Oui! Je voyage sous Capitan Chevalle."

Chevalle? If she wasn't mistaken, this was the Pirate Lord of the Mediterranean Sea!

"Qui êtes-vous? Où venez-vous?" the man cried again.

"Où est votre capitan?" she asked.

"Dans ce navire!" he yelled.

Rose was fully alert now. "Parlay!" she announced triumphantly. Declaring "parlay," according to the Pirate Code, meant that she could speak with the captain without any harm coming to her.

"Comment?" he asked.

"Je declare 'parlay,' à parler avec Capitan Chevalle."

He nodded in understanding."Bien sur, mademoiselle."

She abandoned the boat and climbed up the side of the ship, which was a beauty in and of itself. This, however, was not Chevalle's ship, which was even more grandiose and ornate. A gangplank was lowered between ships, and Rose crossed it to get escorted to Chevalle in his cabin.

Chevalle was a Pirate Lord, most obviously en route to Shipwreck Cove since the song has been sung. If Rose could secure passage to Ship with Chevalle through their meeting, all of her concerns would be settled. She had one chance. If Chevalle wasn't an understanding man, her voyage could end right then and there. Or, even worse, if she accidentally bungled her French that could spell her doom as well. Rose had no control over what was about to occur.

Once she had made in on deck, Rose found herself surrounded by the language. It was so familiar to her childhood, and certain words flooded her ears. Who, girl, boat, where, who, who, who...

"Dépechez-vous! Tout de suite!" her guide yelled. "Allez, mademoiselle!" he cried back to her. She shouldered past the crew, obediently complying with his demand to follow him. They entered a dark corridor, and thankfully the candlesticks on the wall provided enough light so that her eyes could still make out shapes ahead of her.

The man suddenly stopped, causing Rose to nearly careen into him. He ushered her into a nearby room pooled in light. It was large and lofty, much larger than the Pearl's captain's quarters, although from the looks of it, this vessel seemed to be generally smaller than the Pearl. Rose gazed over the fineries within. Tapestries, silks, tea sets, silver trays, and a chandelier. Yes, Rose thought, Jack would envy a room such as this. He would even sacrifice his ship's size if it meant larger quarters for himself.

The sailor had rushed into the room after her and darted to a chair that sat at the far end of the room with its back to her. He quietly conversed with the chair for a few moments until he motioned back to Rose. The chair's inhabitant stood and revealed an elaborate powdered wig, that seemed to be lacking a bit of maintenance. When he turned, Rose knew at once that he was Chevalle.

He raised revealing a pencil-thin mustache, a powdered face and a judgmental sneer. "Parlez-vous francaise?" he quipped skeptically.

Rose actually found herself smiling at this. "Oui!" she replied.

"Vous avez invoqué le droit de 'parlay,' c'est vrai?" said he, ensuring that she had indeed invoked the right of parlay to speak directly to him.

"Oui, capitaine."

He stood and took her hand, bowing. "Je m'appelle Chevalle," he said. "Et vous?"

Rose fell into a bow herself. "Rose Hexfury, majesté."

Chevalle gave a brief nod. "Alors, parlez!" he demanded her to speak her purpose there. "Que faites-vous ici? Vous avez été retrouvé à la dérive dans un bateau, oui?"

"Yes, I- I mean, oui, mon capitaine." Rose replied, confirming his question that she was found adrift in a boat. "J'ai besoin votre aide. Je dois aller à Shipwreck Cove. C'est là que vous naviguez, oui?" If this was indeed Chevalle and his fleet from the Mediterranean, they undoubtedly were heading straight to Shipwreck Cove. She needed his help to get to there.

"Peut-être…" he replied mysteriously, clearly distrustful of her. "Êtes-vous un espion? Comment pouvons-nous vous faire confiance?"

How can we trust you? Of course Chavalle thought she was a spy—why wouldn't he? Pirates didn't just float adrift in the middle of the Caribbean Sea! Especially weaponless women. The enemy could be waiting to pounce at any moment. Rose had no choice but to once again reveal what was once her biggest secret; her parentage.

"Je suis la fille de—" Rose stopped at this. Even though it had been years since she had spoken French and she was communicating fine, she needed to prove she wasn't just French. "Anglais s'il vous plait?"

Chevalle gave a great sigh, but ultimately gave her a dismissive wave to go ahead.

"Captain," she began, "It is in your best interest that you take me to Shipwreck Cove."

"This is very presumptuous of you," he said with a scowl. "Why don't I just set you back in your little bateau and you sail back to whoever sent you here?"

"I come alone, I promise," she pleaded. "I must be delivered, unharmed to Shipwreck Cove. Your fate and the fate of pirate-kind depends upon it."

"Pourquoi?"

"I am the daughter of Captain Teague, monsieur." To this Chevalle only smirked, clearly unconvinced. "It's true, monsieur!" she insisted. She tried to think of a way to secure her place onboard, and when it hit her, she spoke it aloud without a second thought. "You see my appearance, non?" she said, motioning to the tatters of her dress. "I was captured and set adrift in that boat. My father has put out a reward for my safe return. The Keeper of the Pirate Code has put out a reward for me! Do this, and you will benefit!"

Chevalle still looked uncertain, but the sound of a reward was too good to pass up. She was fed and the men were able to scare up a pair of trousers that fit her poorly and a shirt that she was able to tear and tie up to fit her better, and she very gratefully was finally able to abandon her disgusting garments from Singapore. The men clearly expected her to sit back and stay on as a passenger, but Rose had other ideas. She longed to steer on the wheel once more like she used to do on the Pearl, and even on Captain Frees's ship, but this new crew was still very wary of her, and with good reason. She instead made use with the rigging and sail repairs.

She was given a hammock below deck, but didn't trust anyone down there enough to actually take it. She instead would sit up all night on deck. She got little if any sleep those nights. It wasn't that the sea was unruly, nor was it her typical nightmares. She just couldn't stop her restless mind from wondering what she would say to her father when she found him. What would he say in response? Would he say anything at all, or simply dismiss her as he did all those years ago? Was it even worth it to approach him, or should she just try to make her warning known without him?

All of these thoughts raced through her mind until they began all chattering at once and she had to stop thinking altogether. For a long time, she thought about nothing at all. Then, the quiet of the night shift ended and eager chatter started. A land mass had appeared in the darkness. This had to be Shipwreck Cove. Activity began though it wasn't yet dawn. Rose kept to herself in her spot on the deck, and waited until enough sunlight rendered her vision useful once more, then she watched as land grew nearer. What was once a speckled rock now had more definition. The ship turned to starboard, and they circled the island for some time until Rose saw a cavern. The ship slowly turned and entered into this break, which revealed itself to be an opening to a hidden interior, the silent and steadfast guard of yet another island, though this one was manmade.

And what a manmade marvel it was. Like a giant tree adorned with cooling embers, the fortress was illuminated throughout with hundreds of lanterns that flickered and danced with every gust of wind. The structure, if one even dare call it a structure, for there was nothing "structured" about it, stood about a league high, and was constructed entirely of broken ship components that had stacked up over the years. "Chaos" is a fitting word. Were it not for a haphazard dock, Rose would have never seen how it was possible to enter the facility at all, let alone utilize rooms within.

Perhaps even more impressive than this fortress was the amount of pirate ships that had docked in the harbor surrounding the u-shaped island mass. There were over a hundred vessels, some as big as the Pearl, many much smaller. How many pirates had arrived already, and more importantly, how many were still to come? Rose searched the harbor desperately in the darkness for either the Pearl or any ship appearing to be originating from Singapore, but she only had access to the sight of only half of the vessels as the fortress blocked her view the rest. She had to settle for trying to find her crew amongst the thousands of pirates inside. Every moment waiting to learn of their survival was agonizing.

The sun was well up by the time they found an adequate place to dock. Rose was among the passengers, supplies, and captain in the first long boat that worked itself to the East dock. With every meter they rowed closer, her anticipation increased, so much so, she almost leapt out of the boat on her own. She would have too, were it not for the fact that Chevalle was right at her side, ready to scale the fortress to deliver her to her father.

As soon as she entered Shipwreck Cove, Rose found herself surrounded on all sides by people. Male, female, children, animals...they had taken up camp inside the facility on its base level. All of them— Arabs, Turks, Englishman, Irishmen, African, Indian. The chatter of contrasting languages was overbearing. The scent was overbearing. The sight of it all was...overbearing. Her senses were overwhelmed as she frantically scanned the crowd for a familiar face, but a familiar face found her none. Finally, out of the corner of her eye, she spied a young man scaling the side of a jagged and unorthodoxly angled wall via a rope ladder and disappear into the heavens through what had once been a crow's nest.

Ah! So there were several floors to be managed. As she would later come to discover, the crews of all vessels, of Pirate Lords or otherwise, could inhabit the town of Shipwreck that Rose was so familiar with or these lower floors of the structure. The third floor, the smallest and most fragile of the levels, held a large chamber that was reserved only for the reassembling of the Brethren. Rose discovered this because she and Chevalle's main posse climbed the rope ladders and ascended the crooked and broken stairs. They made their way up the staircase and spilled into the Pirate Lords' meeting room, which was entirely empty, or so Rose initially thought. Four great tables constructed of different varieties of oak were at the center, some in better condition than others, but they stretched at least the length of six horses when pushed together. A few paces in front of where they stood was a large globe that was nicked and porous. This was the globe that Jack had told her of, where the Pirate Lords stabbed their swords into the wood before each court's convening. Rose spun the globe to where the Caribbean was located and traced the sharp pierces in the globe's exterior. Had Jack's sword made this mark? Would he ever have the chance to make his mark?

That's when Rose stopped dead and she caught sight of a man who had been standing in the room unnoticed the whole time.

He wore a red coat, adorned with a black hat. His hair was long, and resembled Jack's. The kohl-rimmed eyes... this was her father.