Author's Note: Jack FINALLY comes in! *everybody cheers* It was either now or never…hope he's IC. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Nope, don't own it. POTC belongs to a mouse with oversized ears and red shorts (they ARE red, right?). But I'm really good at imagining that I do…my psychiatrist says that's a bad thing, though…

~*~ A Witch's Daughter ~*~

Chapter Three: Selene, Swann and Sparrow

*~*~*~*

"Catriona! Get back here now!"

Catriona looked away from the gentleman she'd been conversing with, startled at the fury in her mother's voice. With a backwards glance and an apologetic — or as apologetic a smile a child of eight can muster — Catriona hopped off the stool she'd been occupying, hurrying to do her mother's bidding.

Selene pulled her roughly, but not painfully, away from the view of every customer in the Bright Star, into the kitchen. Grabbing her daughter's shoulders, Selene crouched down, green eyes blazing with fury as she stared into her daughter's bewildered blue ones. "Catriona, what have I told you about talking to the customers?"

"You told me to stay away from dangerous men. You said I was only allowed to go near nice ones." Catriona repeated, still confused. The red-haired man she'd been talking with certainly fell into the category of 'nice'. He'd given her three shillings and even bought her a drink of water. Selene had always taught Catriona to be polite, to behave like the lady that she wasn't, and it seemed, at least in Catriona's young mind, rude to not talk with a man as nice as he.

"And what is the type of man, or rather, people, that you must stay away from at all times?" Selene inquired, as if somehow her deadly tone will make Catriona remember and therefore keep her only daughter safe.

Catriona had never forgotten. "Pirates," she said without hesitation. "Pirates are the worst, mummy."

"So why in God's name were you talking to one?"

Catriona's large violet eyes widened. "I wasn't, mummy. He was a gen'leman."

Selene sighed, smiling at her daughter's naivety. "Some pirates, love, look an' dress like gentlemen," she revealed, pronouncing the word properly. Selene wanted Catriona to marry into the upper class when she was older, knowing that her looks, mannerisms and accent would be enough to bowl over any young, unworldly aristocrat. The theory was that if Catriona was to marry into nobility, she wouldn't have to beg, steal, cheat or sell herself like Selene was forced to do. "Speak like them too, but they're not, all right?"

"Well — how can you tell them apart, then?" Catriona's innocence, coupled with the look in those unusual-coloured, though by all means still beautiful, eyes was enough to turn even the most impassive, cold-hearted of men into puddles on the spot, not unlike a puppy's. It certainly had that effect on Selene.

"A gentleman would never carry weapons, sweetheart," she replied, placing a kiss on Catriona's brow. "Now go back into the kitchens, and stay close to Anna, all right?"

"Yes, mother." Catriona replied brightly, moving to comply.

"Kitten?" Catriona turned back, an expression of pure curiosity on her young face. Snatching up her daughter's hand, Selene held it gently between her own. She looked pleadingly into her daughter's startled eyes, her emerald orbs talking for her. "Promise me one thing?"

Catriona was surprised at the seriousness in her mother's voice. "Of course. Anything."

"No matter what happens, don't ever become a pirate, or a pirate's love."

Catriona's blue eyes, if possible, widened further still, surprised at the request. "I promise, as the Lord an' Lady are me — my — witnesses," she said, referring to the spirits/gods that she and her mother both believed in and respected, showing that she wasn't giving her word lightly, while wondering why on earth her mother was asking such a thing.

It was an oath she never intended on breaking.

~*~*~*~

"Give it 'ere, lass. Pretty thing like that ain't meant fer little girls such as yerself." Lilith, an ugly whore with dirty brown hair and so much makeup she must have applied it by the shovelful, made a snatch for the white-gold necklace that fell to the nine year old Catriona's stomach. The child had reflexes like lightning, though, and spun out of the prostitute's reach.

The precious gemstones glinted in the faint firelight, giving off the impression it was glowing in the dimly lit interior of the Bright Star. "No!" She snapped, clutching the pentacle as though her life depended on it.

The wench let out an animalistic snarl. "C'mon, lass. Don't you be stupid. Give it to ol' aun'ie Lilith here; she'll take care of it better than any stupid kid could ever hope to."

"You got the 'old' part right." Catriona retorted. Even as a child, she had a quick tongue and fiery, but thankfully rare, temper. Years on the account had taught Catriona control and self-restraint, if nothing else; she'd have simply ignored Lilith now.

Enraged, Lilith raised a hand. "Why, you little —"

"That's enough, Lilith." Selene's calm, steely voice interrupted. A pale hand wrapped itself around the raised wrist, and a glinting dagger hovered over the evil wench's heart. An expression of fear and fury crossed over her less than attractive features. Wrenching her arm out of Selene's grip, she gave one more look of pure loathing to Catriona before disappearing. Lowering her weapon, Selene beckoned Catriona closer.

"Listen to me, darling," she said, shoving the beautifully crafted piece of jewellery into the top of her daughter's dark blue dress, "never, ever, let anyone see your pentacle, all right? Especially not Lilith. Don't ever take it off neither; 'specially with Lilith around."

Catriona nodded, thinking that the urgency and importance of her mother's words was due to the fact that the pentacle was rare and valuable, a symbol of the religion they practised.

"Good girl; I knew ye'd understand." She kissed her daughter's cheek. "Take care, my kitten."

It sounded like she was saying goodbye. "Mum? Mummy? Where are you going? Come back!"

But she had disappeared, lost amongst the patrons of the Bright Star.

*~*~*~*

Catriona awoke with a start, sitting up in bed. Looking down at the red material covering her form, it took her a moment to realize where she was. In her locked cabin, on the ship the Silver Chimera. The pirate Silver Chimera.

Her mother's words echoed back at her, mocking her; "No matter what happens, don't ever become a pirate."

And her own reply, given without hesitation, full of sincerity: "I promise, as the Lord and Lady are my witnesses."

Strange, how she could remember a conversation from nine years ago, however short, word for word, and yet five years ago she had thought of nothing but her own survival, neglecting and breaking all the oaths she'd ever made. The several times her mother had come back home with a bruise or scratch that ruined her mother's otherwise perfect pale beauty, Catriona swore to herself she will never purposefully hurt a living creature, physically or otherwise. Eleven years ago, when Mary, the woman that watched her was found brutally murdered after her house had been pillaged, Catriona promised she'd never kill a living creature, not even a fly. Spiders and other pests were the only exceptions.

Five years ago, when she'd signed on to the Chimera, the moment that quill, dipped in her own blood, had touched the paper, she had broken every single vow.

She reached beneath her overlarge white shirt, pulling out the pentacle. It no long reached her stomach, falling between her breasts instead. It glinted in the light of the rising sun coming through a window, reflecting a rainbow of gold and crimson, mixed with a few hues of blue and violet, spots dancing around the otherwise bare room. She studied it, not for the first time overwhelmed by its beauty. Inside the circular band was a five-point star. At the end of each point was a different gemstone, the topmost being amethyst, going in a clockwise direction so the next was a small circular ruby the exact size and shape of the amethyst, followed by an emerald, sapphire, and finally citrine. In the centre of the star was the largest stone, a circular turquoise, her birthstone, and between each point was the smallest aquamarine stones, the birthstone of her mother.

She shook her head, ridding herself of such thoughts. What was done was done; and she reminisced over the past enough in her dreams — or rather, nightmares. Throwing the covers aside, she stood up, slipping on a worn, dirty, brown coat and tying her waist-length hair back with a stained black ribbon. Pulling on equally worn, originally black boots, she strode into the hallway without even glancing once into the dirty mirror, locking the door and slipping the key over her neck. She headed towards the stairs with an awareness, confidence, purpose and grace that was just unnatural for a human being to possess at quarter to five in the morning.

The galley was quiet, as she had correctly predicted. The cook wasn't even up, no doubt probably sprawled unconscious in a hammock somewhere. Catriona smiled as she replayed the events of the previous night over in her mind, grinning. The captain had let the entire crew celebrate the successful raid on Port Royal. They hadn't barged in and taken everything in sight, like in Civitavecchia. No, they were more subtle this time. The poor governor had probably returned to his mansion to find all his servants unconscious, all valuables gone, and a little piece of paper concerning the whereabouts and welfare of his darling daughter.

Pulling a mug from one of the many cupboards lining the walls, she poured herself a glass of cool water and grabbing an apple, headed up to the deck. The deck was quiet, with only a few very tired men on the night shift fighting to stay awake for company. Heading towards the helm of the ship, Catriona leaned against the rail, watching the gentle waves that rocked the ship ever so slightly from side to side change colour with the sky and the ascending sun. Newly commandeered vessels trailed after them, like dogs following their master.

A beautiful thing, the sea. Her mother had once said that the god Neptune ruled over it, controlling every slight wave, how far the tide came in, even the wind that blew across her constantly rippling surface. She found that legend particularly hard to believe; the ocean was her own mistress, as temperamental and unpredictable as the sky that stretched above her. She could not be ruled over, controlled or tamed, only understood and accepted. Catriona both understood and accepted this, unlike the many men that seek to dominate her, to harness her for their own selfish purposes. Such men eventually met their end; by storm or reef, only she would decide; only she knew their unfortunate fates.

"Très beau, non?"

Catriona jumped, dropping the consumed apple she'd been holding. It took her a moment to realize what the Captain had just asked. "Oh yes, very." She replied softly. Then her tone hardened. "Although I suppose you wouldn't marry her off." She said, meaning the glittering ocean.

"Sorry? You mean the wench?" He asked, referring to the unfortunate hostage tied up in the brig.

"Never mind." She shook her head, dismissing the topic. If he didn't know, she sure as hell wasn't going to tell him. Besides, maybe they were both drunk, him and Bill. There was a lot of rum going round that night, and even if they were, she didn't want to give them any ideas. Bill…Cutthroat. Left us at Port Royal. Didn't want to delay the reunion with his wife and kids any longer. Sweet really. She dimly wondered if anyone else had conversations with themselves inside their heads. Not bloody likely.

"Well what are ye waiting for? I want you to go check on our unwilling passenger."

"Why?" She asked. Then she remembered something. "Sir, about our little Swann —"

"Aye?" Avarice turned to look at her, his grey eyes on hers.

"Do you think — well, Captain, 'ave you actually spoke to her yet?"

"No." He frowned. "What's that got to do with anything?"

Catriona hesitated before continuing. She didn't want Avarice thinking she'd gone soft or anything. "Well, I mean, she's a nice enough lass. And I don't think she'll be causing any trouble, but…" She hesitated. "She has been abducted by pirates before, Captain. I think it a good idea that she should be kept somewhere where we can keep an eye on her more, not down in the brig."

Avarice considered her suggestion, brow furrowed. "I should think so, lass. Been kidnapped before, ain't she? We'll just keep her in your cabin."

My cabin?! Should have kept me bloody mouth shut. "Aye, sir." Catriona said aloud. She saluted before draining the cup and turning away. Meeting a man halfway down the steps, she shoved the now empty container into the surprised African's hands. "Take tha' to the galley, will yer?" She asked him sweetly.

~*~*~*~ ***

Elizabeth woke up in complete darkness with a pain in her head and a nauseous feeling in her stomach. Opening her eyes, she dimly registered a — a cloth ceiling? Turning her head, she saw a thick dark velvet curtain. This wasn't her bed. Even she, the governor's daughter, didn't have such fine silk sheets resting beneath her. And when she went to sleep, she always made sure the coverlet was on her, not beneath her. And her room didn't sway from side to side, either. She pulled the soft velvet back — big mistake. Bright sunlight hit her, blinding her. Covering her eyes, she slowly tried to stand, stumbling a little.

"Awake?" Elizabeth jumped at the voice. Turning, she saw a girl that looked vaguely familiar. She was obviously a pirate, with navy blue trousers, brown boots, and a dark blue vest over a white shirt stained with what looked horribly like blood on the sleeves. She was sitting on a desk, one leg propped up on the chair while the other dangled down, sharpening an already dangerous-looking sword aggressively. She hadn't even looked at Elizabeth.

"Where am I?" She asked. Dear God, her head hurt more than she had ever thought possible.

The girl looked up for the first time and Elizabeth realized how young she was. Younger than me… "Don't you remember?" She questioned, purple-blue eyes regarding her with boredom. At Elizabeth's completely blank look she sighed. "You've been sleepin' — in my bed, might I add — for the past couple o' days, ever since that little party to celebrate the hanging of an entire crew, which was to take place next day." The disgust in her voice was evident. She put the curved sword — a cutlass, Elizabeth reminded herself — down next to her on the desk, where several other different types of swords and weapons laid. Picking up a wicked looking dagger, slightly curved and with an engraved ivory hilt, she glanced at Elizabeth for a mere moment. Balancing it on the tip of her finger, she single-handedly flipped it up and caught it again. Elizabeth grudgingly admitted it was impressive; it made Will's sword tricks look like child's play. "You'll be happy to know they're completely out of harm's way, thanks to a few close friends of mine."

Elizabeth's face paled and her brown eyes widened. "You helped those — those heathens to escape death?"

The girl stopped playing with the dagger and looked at her straight in the eye. "Aye, that I did. Don't look so shocked; you did exactly the same thing."

"That was completely different!" Elizabeth snapped, enraged from both the pain and the fact that this — this girl, this damn, irritatingly pretty girl, had failed to give her any answers. She seemed to find Elizabeth's little outburst amusing, and that, of course, only infuriated her more. Suddenly. She realized where she'd seen the conniving little wench before. "Why do you not answer my question, Jane?" She nearly yelled.

'Jane' grinned, shaking her blonde head. The curls from that night at the fort were still there, though they were more like waves instead of ringlets now. "You are on the fastest ship in the Caribbean, heading to good ol' Tortuga. You've been kidnapped and you're currently held ransom, and if your daddy don't pay soon, well…" She paused, as though considering how to break this to Elizabeth. "Well, can ye say 'Singapore' and 'whore' in a two-word sentence? And it's Catriona."

Elizabeth was more intimidated by the dagger Catriona was carelessly tossing up and down than by what was just said. "You're wrong." She said smugly. "This ship can't possibly be the fastest ship in the Caribbean, as that title is given to Jack Sparrow and the Black Pearl, who is without doubt looking for me with my fiancé, along with the entire British Navy, so I suggest you return me to Port Royal immediately, and you may be spared the gallows."

Catriona waved a hand in the general direction of the window, grinning. "Look out, mate, an' tell me what you see."

Elizabeth did as she was told and gasped. The HMS Dauntless, along with several other Navy ships that have carried important officials to the previous Black Pearl's crew's hanging were floating either alongside or behind whatever ship they were on now. "It's not possible…" She whispered, for the first time truly afraid for her life.

"It can be done. Commandeering an entire fleet of His Majesty's Navy. Well rather, several parts of different fleets, which make up one whole fleet."

Catriona not so gently grabbed Elizabeth by the shoulders, spinning around her so that the older, slightly taller girl was looking at her. "Have you ever heard of Gervaise Avarice?" She questioned softly, knowing the older girl was frightened out of her wits.

The name sounded familiar…not in a good way. "The Silver Chimera." She realized. So that meant…

Weeks ago, just after Jack had escaped from being hanged after rescuing her from Barbossa and his crew, her father and Commodore Norrington had both received a letter from an Italian captain, warning him of a dangerous pirate ship believed to be sailing towards the Caribbean. The man had warned that although the entire crew were bloodthirsty and violent, there was one that was particularly dangerous. A pirate that looked deceptively innocent, but who was, in fact, 'one of Satan' handmaidens in the guise of an angel', as the captain had put it.

Elizabeth knew no Italian, but the letter had been translated, and the good captain had referred to this pirate by five commonly used names throughout; Servo del Satan, 'Satan's Servant', a witch, Scourge del Mediterraneo, 'Scourge of the Mediterranean', Lamierina Sanguinante, 'Bloody Blade', Lamierina Pericoloso, 'Dangerous Blade', and finally…Catriona Woodcraft.

As if reading her thoughts, the pirate gave her a friendly pat on right shoulder. "Don't worry," the blonde said in a tone that greatly resembled one of soothing, "it's all just rumours."

~*~*~*~ ***

"So, let me get this straight," Jack Sparrow said on the deck of his beloved Pearl. "Miss Swann, your future daughter-in-law, has been kidnapped, we go to get her back 'cause we're the only ones in Port Royal with a ship — and one that's been badly damaged, mind — she's been gone for three days, and you pick now to tell me that you helped kidnapped said daughter-in-law, and the ship we're after is faster than the Pearl, and the most dangerous pirate on that vessel is the only one you want to be completely unharmed, because the one with the most violent reputation is also the most merciful so 'e shouldn't be harmed?"

Bootstrap, or Cutthroat as he was known to the crew of the Chimera, shrugged. "Got it in one, mate."

Jack stared, open-mouthed. "You do realize your son's bride-to-be was the one taken? And young Will is near ready to murder the entire crew that made with the kidnapping? He's down below now, no doubt practising with his little swords down below, or else thinking 'bout his beloved." The whole idea was too insane, even for him. That, coupled with the fact that your best friend wasn't as dead as one would think, and how you met said friend right after waking up and realizing you had a hangover could cause one to doubt his companion's sanity. Turning back to the wheel, Jack glanced at his compass — one that actually pointed north, and turned the wheel slightly, setting the course for Tortuga. "Ye sure they'll be there?" He asked doubtfully.

Bill Turner nodded. "Aye, Jack. They commandeered an entire fleet, and Tortuga's the nearest port friendly to pirates. Avarice will be wanting to divide his and Barbossa's crew equally amongst them all. Good captain—that's why we be negotiating with him instead o' attackin' him in the middle of the ocean. Knew I was cursed, saw me 'e did. Still let me on his ship. He's a good man, Avarice — when he realized that pirates were hanging 'e did what he thought right —sprung them from jail, and got a fleet and their 'unwavering' loyalty in the progress."

Jack snorted, shaking his head, the beads in his hair clinking slightly. "So this Avarice — decent bloke?"

"Better than you, Capt'n." Bill smiled.

Jack whirled around, pointing with both his index fingers and swaying drunkenly on the spot. He obviously hadn't completely recovered from the alcohol-induced migraine. "Remember whose ship yer on, mate."

Bill grinned back, saluting Jack. "Aye, sir."

Turning back to the rudder, Jack checked the bearings, turning the wheel every so often. "So…this blade pirate ye mentioned — Navy after 'im, you say?"

"Her. Didn't I tell ye she was a her?"

Jack shrugged. "Probably."

"Yeah, Navy after her. Navies — plural. Big reward for her head, her only, an' the price gets higher by the hour."

"Bloody 'ell," Jack mused. "How old is the lass?"

"Seventeen." Bill laughed out loud at the expression on Jack's face. "I know, I know. Been on the account for five years. Ran away from somethin' when she was just twelve. She's one of the best you'll ever meet Jack. Complete legend in Europe and Africa."

"Seventeen year old lass, eh? That's interesting…" Jack trailed off.

Bootstrap wasn't Sparrow's friend for nothing. He knew that look and tone of voice, and he meant to discourage Jack as much as possible. He did see Catriona as his daughter, after all. "You haven't even laid eyes on her, and you're already trying to work out how best to bed her, Jack. She can be an ugly ol' crone for all you know."

"Ah," Jack said with a hand gesture, "but you said it yourself that she's young, and fiery to boot."

"Who?" Will Turner had appeared, holding a scrunched up ball of paper in his fist, wearing worn creased clothing and a scowl.

"What's wrong, son?" Bootstrap asked, feeling a strange sensation as he said the last word. Ten years without seeing his child could do that to a man. His mouth had some difficulty with forming the word.

"I just discovered whilst reading a letter from the Governor that one of the most dangerous and wanted pirates at the moment is on the same ship as Elizabeth!" Will fumed, glaring at the paper as though it had abducted his fiancée. Carefully restoring the 'wanted' poster to its original position, Will shoved it in front of Bootstrap's nose. He loved his father, but when it comes to choosing whether to focus on the father you thought dead and your soul mate who's in some unspeakable danger, you tend to go for the latter. Jack craned his neck to try, and fail, to see the face of the most talked about pirate lass. "You sailed with this pirate, father. Is Elizabeth going to be all right?" The concern in his brown eyes was deeply touching.

"She'll be fine, lad. No one on the Chimera will harm a single hair on her pretty head. 'Specially not 'Lamierina'." He patted Will's shoulder as a comforting gesture before going below deck, probably to ravage for rum or food.

"Let's see that, mate." Will looked confused but handed the creased yellowed paper to the Captain. "Thanks lad. Don't just stand there like some helpless idiot; go help Gibbs with the ropes!" Will looked at the older man strangely before strolling off to join Gibbs. Checking the compass, he turned the wheel a little to the left. Glancing at the poster Jack grinned. "Not bad," he admitted as he read through all her listed crimes. They were fairly even; he sacked more towns and ports, but he'd been a pirate for longer; she had commandeered more ships, the most recent being the ships at Port Royal, but she wasn't exactly hard on the eyes, and knowing the Navy officers like he did, that proved to her advantage.

He studied her face and shoulders, her only features on the poster. Blonde, with clear skin and dark eyes framed by long lashes, if the black and white sketch was anywhere near accurate. Noting one final crime at the bottom, he raised his eyebrows. "'Witchcraft'?" He believed in cursed treasure and skeletal monkeys and Aztec gods; that was fine; he found that easy to believe. But Captain Jack Sparrow was pretty sceptical when it came to witchcraft and magic and devil worshippers.

"Capt'n! Ye're goin' too far east!" Nodding his thanks to some anonymous sailor, Jack hastily turned the wheel in the opposite direction, shoving Catriona Woodcraft's poster into his inner coat pocket. He had a feeling that when they met; not if, when, things were going to be very…interesting.

~*~

AN: OK, so Jack and Cat didn't actually talk face to face or even see each other, 'cept for Jack, who no doubt has some dirty little thoughts running through his mind…What do you think? I kept rewriting this chapter cos I couldn't get Jack right. He's a hard character for me to write. You think he was OOC? You should have seen him in the other ones…*shudder* *cough*lovesick puppy*cough* So REVIEW, and if you have any suggestions to make Jack more IC, then I would love to hear it.

JessieRose: Thank you thank you thank you THANK YOU! You're my first reviewer EVER! Here are muffins, just like I promised! *gives JR two baskets full of muffins*

AN2: I think I finally figured out the formatting for ff.net! Not that that's important…