That night, a thump resounded in Elsa's cabin.
"Ow," came a pained grumble.
Looking over the side of the bed, Elsa saw Danielle sprawled on the floor.
"Will?"
"Ow," came the noise again.
"What?"
"I fell off the bed. I was having a dream about Spaniards and a rum barrel. Help me up!" she whined.
"No, I think I'd rather sleep," she yawned.
"Jack!"
"No," she said, going straight back to sleep.
"Damn you..."
The next night, the Pearl was docked off of Tabago, in a small port few knew of.
Elsa had forced Danielle to sleep in the spare bedroom at the end of the hall.
"I love you, goodnight," Elsa said mechanically, handing her a pillow.
"Jack," Danielle whined miserably.
"Oh, you'll be fine. I'm not a hop, skip and a jump away. Go on! If there's any trouble...scream. You're good at that," she winked and gave her friend a push towards the end of the hall.
"Why, you son of a-"
"Love you, goodnight!" She shut her door quickly, leaving Danielle fuming outside.
A few hours later, when everyone-including the lookout-had fallen asleep, two figures appeared at the end of the hall.
"What are we doing here?" the first said in a heavy Spanish accent.
"Takin' the girl, you twit!" the other said. He had a British accent.
"But why are we doing it?" the Spaniard asked. "Have you heard the stories about this girl?"
"Yes."
"Then you know she could beat us in a sword fight with both hands tied behind her back?"
"Yes...wait-what?" The British man growled, aggravated. "That's why we're takin' her while she's sleepin'."
"Ah. But how do we know where she is?" he asked after a time.
"We'll start at the end of the hall and go from there. Now shut up and come on!" he hissed. They continued on, discussing what they were supposed to do.
As they passed the first cabin, the British man tripped over a knot in the floor and cursed angrily.
At the sound, Elsa's ears perked and she tightened her grip on the pistol beneath her pillow. She didn't move, but waited until the voices receded down the hallway. Then she silently got up and moved to the door, waiting for her moment.
"That her?" the Spanish man asked, poking his head in the door at the end of the hall.
"Must be. Too short for Captain Sparrow." He walked quietly into the room, sword drawn, announcing, "Alright, Miss Sparrow! Time to get up!"
Danielle's eyes snapped open.
"Maybe it's just a dream," she thought. "Please, please be a dream."
"Miss Sparrow!" he called again. A strong arm wrapped around Danielle's waist and pulled her out of the bed. "Yer not Sparrow," he observed. "Varga! She ain't Sparrow!"
"No she ain't; I am!" Elsa called into the room, her pistol aimed at the men. "Let her go, gents, lest ye be wanting a few holes in your heads," speaking with a heavy 'pirate' accent.
"What if we don't?" the Spanish man said arrogantly. "We may like her better than you."
"Why does everyone ask, 'What if we don't'?" Elsa said, half to herself. Then with a bang, she fired a shot.
"Hah!" Varga said. "You missed!"
"Did I?" Elsa asked, nodding at the British man. His arm was bleeding.
"John?" Varga asked. "Does it-"
"It hurts quite a bit!" John bellowed. The shot hadn't done much damage, just crippled his right arm for a while-just what she had intended. It made him mad nonetheless; he drew a knife-with his good arm-from his belt and held it towards Danielle. "Drop the pistol, Sparrow, or she gets it!"
"I have a better idea:" Elsa said. "Get off the ship or-"
Another shot was fired. John dropped his knife and everyone flinched; Danielle squealed.
"Or answer to me," Jack said, appearing behind Elsa and laying a hand on her shoulder, his pistol drawn, too.
"Captain Sparrow," the two men whispered, wide-eyed.
"Off," he commanded.
"You'll pay for this, Sparrow!" John said quietly, so only Elsa could hear him. He cradled his bleeding arm while exiting the room.
"I'm sure I will," she said, flashing the Sparrow's trademark grin.
"John!" Varga commented. "She does smile like him."
"Out!" the Sparrows yelled.
"Too much action for one night," said Danielle, following Elsa closely.
"You squealed," Elsa commented as they walked onto the deck.
"Gunshots bug me, alright?" Danielle defended.
"Oh, man...how can you stand cannon fire then?"
"I can't."
The men flew off the ship and back towards the small town away inland.
Jack left to his cabin, mumbling, "'Night."
"Spanish, Jack," Danielle whimpered behind her, starting to shake at the thought.
"Yes, Will, Spanish," Elsa said calmly, scanning the island.
"But-but-Varga, Jack, Varga!" she said quietly, plainly traumatized.
"Yes, Will, Varga. That's the kind of people that live here you know."
"Really?" Danielle said, amazed.
"Yes, really! Learn your bloody world history! I should've just let 'em take you..."
"You awful, awful person."
"Pirate."