Port Royal. Nestled on the island of Jamaica, and once home to millions of pirates, lest we forget that plunder was once the bases of their economy. And after the great earth quake of '99 only a few of these outlaws remained. Everyone else was law abiding, to some point.

Rolling along in the middle class section, a Smith Shop, whose charge was William Turner. Charming, handsome, and faithful, the young smith was only faithful to one. This in reality pissed off a lot of young women of his class. All of them young beautiful and well worth the time of day, but then you get into every boy's fantasy; the high priestess of all damsels, the mother of all valley girls, and the biggest schizophrenic DID (Damsel in Distress) of all time Elizabeth Swann, whom just so happens to have our poor little blacksmith eating out of the palm of her hand. Not a very meaningful existence eh?

But aside from our law abiding citizens, we have Fox, at least we think that's her name. She wasn't pretty, but she wasn't unsightly. She was plain, as plain as they come. She wasn't Elizabeth Swann who had every boy swarm around her, she wasn't rich, and she wasn't even interesting to talk about. In fact had it not been for her habit of not, no one would even acknowledge her existence.

Fox never told anyone her past. She kept it to herself. Her skin was delicately tanned. Her hair plainly hung around her shoulders leaking from her mob cap, and her face was nothing more than one that was slender and had high cheek bones. But alas every woman is entitled to two features of beauty. Her eyes were one.

There were those of a siren's. They were the purest of blues and were calm like that of the sea after a storm and matched the Caribbean blue waters. They had the nasty habit of drawing men in and staring at her mesmerized. They didn't want her, only stared, in awe at such beauty.

But when she spoke, which was never often, every man, every woman, everyone, stopped and listened. Her voice was as calm as the sea, was as striking as a bolt of lightning, was a unique as every sunset, every word as different as a snowflake, every sentence as glorious as a sweet dream, every syllable as crisp as a bell, and as mesmerizing as the siren's song. And oh how she could sing! Why even the mermaids were envious, even the sirens, the nymphs! For how could some young woman, as plain as day behold the most beautiful voice of age? How is it that their infamous songs and words were outshone by even the shortest of words spoken by her? It was her most valid possession. But also her worst curse.

It was fantasized that her mother was a siren, and her father a pirate. For why else would she dream of seeing far away lands? For how else could you explain her envious voice? And her flamboyant eyes? She had a brother who guarded her closely, Ryan, and gave her a job at the Bloody Throne.

Across the sea and on to Tortuga, we have a rouge. A Wicked, wicked rouge! Devilishly handsome, inconceivably witty, and every woman's pirate dream, he sailed the most recognizable ship in all the Caribbean, and easily considered the most sought after, highly priced head in all the seven seas. His name (as he preferred) is Captain Jack Sparrow, who in return will meet his match.

Fox sat on the counter of the Throne playing with her hands resting a bit before she was needed again. The tavern common room was sparsely filled as it was only slightly after noon. Her brother was near by (when ever wasn't he?) flirting with a young lady who giggled furiously. His blue eyes twinkling in the dim light, his dark handsome hair falling over his face, and his hand resting lightly on his chin, and lips flickered into a smile.

If only I was half as beautiful as my dear brother. Fox thought watching him work his magic. Oh but if wishes where grains of sand. She concluded. The doors opened lightly. Fox lifted her gaze to meet the new comer. He was an odd fellow indeed. A powdered wig, a royal navy jacket signifying rank, why ever was he here?

"Hello, and good day," he nodded to her. She didn't say anything, only held his gaze as he seated himself at a table. Fox leapt down from her spot and with a picture of rum and a tankard. She was there waiting for him to tell her to place it before him with a filled mug. She curtsied but didn't say a word.

"Please," he said, he watched, as she gracefully filled the wooden cup and placed it before him. "Thank you, might I ask for your company?" he gestured to the empty seat in front of him. Ryan had looked from his flirting to his sister who gave him a panicked look. He nodded, and she sat, the young lady to whom he was attentive to, nudged him, but he brushed her away.

"My name is Commodore James Norrington, who might you, be?" he asked lightly. Fox placed the picture on the table, but didn't answer his question. "Would you like to know why I'm here?"

She shook her head.

"Well," he continued on, "my men told me of this place of a fine young lady, who has eyes like the sea, speaks like a mermaid, sings like a siren, and is envied by the sea nymphs, do you know her?" he asked. Fox looked to her brother, he shook his head.

She didn't answer.

"No?"

She nodded.

"Well then, I assume she is beautiful and very bright, though no insult to you, but you are obviously not her. Envied by the Sirens? Must have captured the hearts of many a men, wouldn't you say?" His voice was honey and spoke calmly. Fox looked to her brother, he shook his head. Don't speak, he mouthed. And she didn't

She nodded.

"I'll bet her hair shimmers like the sun, and her skin a pale as fresh milk," Norrington continued. Fox was becoming mildly annoyed. He was wanting her to speak; he wanted her to say yes, she was this young woman. But she was afraid, afraid to speak.

"And her face must be smooth, like a stone,"

She smiled politely.

"Why won't you speak?" he asked. Ryan straightened himself becoming ever more alert. Fox looked panicked.

"Would you please say something? Anything?"

She remained silent, staring at the wall behind him. Norrington sighed wearily.

"Well then, miss, it seems to me I have no choice," he pulled out a piece of silver. "For this would you speak?" he held the coin to her. She looked to it, and then to her brother.

"Mr. Norrington," her brother rushed from the other side of the counter. "I do not believe you understand, my sister is mute," he lied standing beside his sister casting an offended look. Norrington flushed thoroughly embarrassed.

"Begging your pardon miss, sir," he stood passing the piece of silver for payment of his untouched drink. "I thank you for your hospitality and apologize for any offensive behavior," he bowed slightly, and left.

Ryan waited till the door was closed before speaking. "Fucking son of a bitch, Fox, you haven't spoken to any of the sailors or marines that come through here have you?" Ryan looked to his little sister.

'no' she whispered in a small bell like sound. Ryan nodded.

"Well be more careful," he said and went back to his work.

Fox never spoke to anybody, save for her brother, and only spoke when he spoke to her asking for an answer, and only when they were alone, but this was rare. She either shook her head in 'no' or nodded in 'yes' otherwise when she did speak it was always in a small barely audible whisper.

"Damn it Will, why on god's green earth would I want to find a bride? I'm perfectly happy with a whore for a night," Jack said raising an eyebrow.

"I'm telling you Jack, this one's different."

"How so?"

"Well for starters men don't pass her around,"

"Whelp, I don't need to meet women,"

"Well you seem to do a fine job with men!" William laughed. Jack glowered. The bloody throne, he mouthed to himself. A sing with a carved throne with a sword painted both the be bloody all over. Jack rolled his eyes, being single was fine for his line of work, really it was. No nagging wife, no jealousy between his men, no nothing. And though it might be cheaper to have a wife, a whore for him was better, for a man gets variety, but then, when was the last time Jack laid with a virgin?

"I do certainly hope that was an outburst of insanity," Jack snapped opening the door.

"Well, even if you don't like the women here, the food's fabulous," Will closed with. Jack rolled his eyes scanning the darker interior. Tables and chairs littered the room a bar with stools, an attractive young man with an attractive young lady, and a plain young girl with large bust and pretty eyes. Will elbowed Jack in the ribs motioning to the plain look lady and saying something about her breasts.

"Whelp, even talking about women you sound like a eunuch," Jack sighed. The plain lady curtsied and with out a word showed them to a table. Jack was slightly intrigued. She didn't speak, and wouldn't meet his gaze, and most certainly wouldn't even look at him. He sat and looked her over, he had seen worse whore who had larger breasts. But they all would throw themselves at him, mostly for sales, and he had seen uglier women, and others who were plain, and/or plainer show interest. But no, she wasn't plain, and certainly wasn't ugly, she was at best slightly pretty, but not pretty, pretty, just slightly pretty, not enough to want her, or eye candy, just pretty.

Will waited for her to fill their mugs and leave before speaking.

"She's not so bad, I've seen worse; she never speaks that one,"

"On the contrary, I think she's very slightly," Jack rolled sipping his rum.

"Well you think what you like, but I do like the one sitting on the counter by that man," Will said. "But she dose have pretty eyes," Will added.

"I agree,"

"Funny,"

"What?"
"The few that have heard her talk say she's speaks like a mermaid and sings like a siren," Will repeated gossip. He shrugged looking at her intently with Jack.

"You know her name?"

"Well I've heard that one," Will pointed to the man, "That one call her 'Fox' but that's the only thing I've heard her answer to, other than missy, or miss," Will explained. Jack shrugged.

"I still think she's pretty," Jack saw she was watching him; he smiled brightly to her and watched her look away fearful. Will kicked him. Jack shot him a look. Will made a gesture of decapitation. Jack grinned. "Sounds like a challenge," he muttered, and turned his attention to her. "Hey, love, come join us," he waved her over, she looked to the man who nodded. She jumped from her seat atop the bar and sat in front of jack beside Will. Jack grinned. Will gave him a dark look. She looked to him interested.

"So," Jack said smiling leaning back in his chair. "What's your name?" he asked putting his foot against her calf. She felt it rise up to her knee.