A/N: is once again doing that very charming thing where it doesn't send me email notifications about anything - messages, reviews, new chapters - which tends to mean that it's not sending you guys email notifications about new chapters, either. It usually passes, it's just a pain, but this story is on AO3 under the username eriathiel if you prefer that platform and don't want to manually check for updates, because that site does tend to be less buggy.

On a personal note, house hunting sucks and I hate it. So that's how that's going. The place I saw was perfect…and it was rented out to somebody else literally 5 minutes before I got there. I'm bummed out, keeping my morale up isn't easy at the moment I shall not lie, but it is what it is and I just have to hope something else pops up. In the meantime, I have this story as a nice little distraction - so…early updates! I've also been very excited about getting this one finished and posted, which helps.

The hunger wasn't too bad. Not really. It came and went in waves - she'd be hungry for an hour, then she'd be fine. It wasn't like she was doing much intensive labour so as to be in desperate need of food, too, and with the amount of new bodies they'd taken on, even the discipline-inducing busywork was fairly limited and completed quickly. As far as punishments went, she considered herself lucky - although she made sure to stare mournfully at James' salted pork whenever she caught Jack looking their way, just to make sure he wouldn't decide she was getting off too easy. She'd been through worse and probably would be through worse still before the year was through. James' mood did not lighten, though, and when he was done eating he sat with a grimace on his face, rolling his dodgy shoulder every so often.

"Is it bothering you?"

"Since my chat with Wilding," he muttered "But it was worth it."

"Here," she sighed, shifting so that she was behind him "The pain's here, yeah?"

"What are you…?" he - wisely - decided that it was pointless arguing with her before he even finished the question "Yes - in the joint. Are you a professional healer now?"

"Professional wind-up merchant, maybe," she said lightly "It's your rotator cuff. Here…"

Lifting his arm so that it was straight out to the side, she bent his forearm at the elbow so that it was at a ninety degree angle before guiding him to move it back and forth so that his hand moved from pointing forwards to pointing upwards. The effect was a strange one - like he'd taken it upon himself to start doing an incredibly half-assed rendition of the robot - but she knew it worked.

"It's a rehab exercise - my uncles, er, my dad's brothers in arms, had similar problems all the time. A common injury in boxing…and looking at that arsehole's face, you just outdid Mike Tyson, so…"

"I can't make sense of most of what you just said."

"Sorry. I'm rambling."

Sliding her hand beneath his coat so that her palm rested over his shirt on his shoulder joint, she felt the muscles moving beneath the skin and nodded in satisfaction. He tensed for a moment at the move, and then finally relaxed, but she wasn't oblivious to how his gaze moved across the deck, almost daring any of the men milling about to make a comment about it.

"I'm used to it - the not understanding. The rambling, too, come to think of it," he replied - and there was some begrudging warmth to his words now.

"Just do this for fifteen minutes a few times a day - when you first wake up, before you sleep. Maybe if you get time during the day. It should help."

At first it appeared like he might say something - an argument, perhaps - but in the end he appeared to think better of it.

"Thank you," he said finally "Perhaps it's best that your promise to show me those grappling tricks will have to wait for another time."

"Afraid of having your arse handed to ye by a woman in front of everybody?" she teased "Tell me the truth - the shoulder isn't bothering you at all, is it? It's just convenient."

"I'm afraid of giving them even more of an excuse to make foul comments," he snorted.

"Keep telling yourself that," she sighed.

In truth, she didn't think they'd have much of a chance at all to spar even if they wanted to. When Jack wasn't watching the two of them, he was either peering at his compass or staring off to the horizon. Ever since their talk, he seemed to have very little trouble finding his own heading. Or if he'd been forced to consult Elizabeth, Theo hadn't seen it. While she probably could've reasonably put his behaviour down to their chat, much like she had his foul mood, she suspected something else played a role. The rendezvous with Jones was likely breathing down their neck. But she didn't want to ask, partially because she doubted she'd get an answer that wasn't a bark or a grumble, but mostly because she didn't want to know.

While she still thought 'ignorance is bliss' was a motto for idiots, knowing the specifics wouldn't help her here. They would find Jones, and they would find him soon. That was more than enough. James' brow remained furrowed as he stared off into the horizon, but the whole sexy brooding thing was ruined when he stifled a yawn.

"You should rest for a bit," she suggested "You had a shite night of it. I'll cover for you with Jack, but I doubt he'll ask."

"And if we find The Flying Dutchman?"

"Trust me, when that happens you'll know."

"It'll leave you up here on deck with…" he trailed off, but she had a good idea of his meaning judging by the dark look he cast about the deck.

Theo gestured to the blades at her belt - the knife, and the sword - with a shrug.

"Very well," he sighed, rising to his feet "But only for an hour."

"Two wouldn't hurt any more than one, and it'd do you a whole lot more good."

The look he gave her was a tired one, but there was a warmth shining in his green eyes that took the edge from it.

"For one who has such reservations regarding the title of wife, you certainly have no trouble fussing like one."

Theo flushed and spluttered for a moment before huffing "Says the man who just got into a brawl over me."

James flexed his hand, regarding his tender knuckles with something that very closely resembled pride, and then gave his farewell in the form of a nod, making for the stairs that led below deck. Turning her back to the deck, Theo looked out to the horizon and patiently waited for the blush to fade from her cheeks. Floating around the deck and blushing like a teenager wasn't exactly an option, what with the image she had to maintain around her. Being girly would be construed as being weak, and there was no room for that here - certainly not now. Sure, being the local belligerent witch wasn't much better, but it wasn't exactly weak, either.

"I really am glad that the two of you found one another."

Theo started when Elizabeth's voice sounded beside her, but she offered her a smile when her heart attack passed.

"I'm pretty pleased about it, too," she replied.

"When you left Port Royal, I feared none of us would ever see you again. Or that you and Jack…"

"Me n' Jack?" Theo snorted "God no. I'd never be at peace in a relationship where I wasn't the weird one."

Elizabeth smiled in a way that suggested she saw her point, but was much too well-mannered to agree with it.

"Congratulations, by the way - on you and Will."

"Did Norrington tell you?"

Theo gave a small smile "I always knew."

"But you still left?"

"But I still left," she confirmed slowly "I didn't have much choice in the matter. The state things were in at the time just…helped smooth the way."

Although she did have a feeling that a day would come when she couldn't conveniently solve her problems by packing up and running. What a shite day that would be. They were being treated to a very dramatic sunset that evening - the sky was strewn with vivid hues of red, pink and orange, and the water was reflecting it beautifully, the result being everything cast in a warm glow, like they were sitting by a bonfire.

"In hindsight, when I think back on it, there were times when I'm sure he was trying to push me to end the betrothal," Elizabeth said "I was just so wrapped up in my concern for keeping Will safe at the time, and keeping my word, that I wasn't listening to what was being said."

"I didn't know that," Theo said, but something panged in response to it "He didn't let on."

But of course he hadn't - because it hadn't worked. James wasn't the sort to mention it otherwise, he'd probably think it sounded too much like an excuse or a justification. Especially if it didn't mean anything in the end. Maybe he didn't want to get her hopes up if he wasn't sure he could get his hints through to Elizabeth.

"It all worked out in the end," Theo added "I can say now that it probably worked out for the best, really. Had we been on good terms when I left - James and I, I mean - he would've been a whole lot less forgiving when we were reunited."

"...It feels wrong to say you're welcome," Elizabeth murmured.

"I didn't thank you," Theo teased "But at least we're all friends now. Slight awkwardness aside."

"The awkwardness will pass," Elizabeth replied "I hope. I couldn't help but notice the two of you share quarters. Are you…married, then?"

"Not ye-" surprised by her own phrasing, she stopped and coughed "Er, no. But there's nothing untoward going on. We just…after everything…"

"I would wager that Will and I will loathe to be separated when we're reunited," Elizabeth saved her any further spluttering "If we're reunited."

"You will be," she said.

"Is that a reassurance, or a…?" Elizabeth watched her carefully "I don't know what you call them. Premonitions?"

Will definitely hadn't told her, then. Theo figured it could have gone either way, but apparently it wasn't something he wanted to even begin trying to explain. Or maybe he figured Elizabeth was safer not knowing - which was probably a wise assessment.

"I know it. You'll see each other again. And he's fine, by the way. Not exactly comfortable, but safe."

For now. But Elizabeth gave a sigh of relief, bowing her head as if doing so would hide the smile on her face.

"I had a conversation just like this one with him, funnily enough. When we were on our way to rescue you," Theo continued.

"We're not so good at staying rescued, are we?" Elizabeth sighed.

There wasn't much Theo could say to that - but she lifted a hand and rested it on Elizabeth's shoulder, squeezing gently.

"He said you'd warned him, you know. That this would come. In the cells at Fort Charles - he wasn't specific, but…it made sense. He never seemed to completely relax. I'd already been planning to ask him to teach me how to use a sword when he suggested it first. I thought perhaps he was being protective - even considered myself lucky at having such an unconventional fiance. Now I realise he was preparing."

"I would've told him more if I could have."

"You're here helping now," Elizabeth murmured - but it sounded like she was trying to convince herself, too "...Does Norrington know? About your gift?"

"Yeah. He knows."

"I'm amazed he believed it."

"He wasn't long off having fought undead pirates, I caught him at a good time," she replied drily.

Elizabeth laughed at that, shaking her head despite the tiredness and worry that shone in her dark eyes.

"I've missed you, Theo," she admitted.

Theo smiled "I missed you, too."

"Maybe, once we're finished here, you and James will be able to attend the wedding," she added "And Will and I can come to yours."

It was a pretty picture - a very grown up one, one filled with domestic bliss and games of cards in sun-strewn gardens in Port Royal. It was one that they wouldn't see anytime soon. But Elizabeth didn't need to know that, and telling her wouldn't help anything. So Theo smiled, and she nodded, and she hoped things would turn out fine. It was something she did a lot since arriving here.

True to Theodora's word, James knew when The Dutchman had been sighted because Sparrow made it his mission to ensure that it would be impossible for anybody to remain unaware of it. The ship's bell rang out, rousing him from his fitful sleep, and voices soon joined it - that of Sparrow and Gibbs, demanding that all aboard report above deck immediately. James was on his feet immediately, and he made it as far as the stairs before he spotted Theodora fighting through the mass of bodies making their way above deck so that she could reach him. Relief flooded her features when she did spot him, but it was quickly dampened by the dread he could see in her eyes. Oh, she kept it from the rest of her face well enough, but it shone clearly in her eyes. She couldn't seem to hide that.

"It's time?" he asked lowly when she finally reached him.

"We'll keep to the quarterdeck, all of those who have been, erm, chosen will be herded onto the main deck."

"Herded?" James repeated.

It did raise images of livestock going to slaughter.

"He'll want to inspect them. Count them. He'll be expecting a trick - he only made the wager with Jack because he expected it to be impossible, he won't be pleased to have been proven wrong."

"And then?"

"Then they'll join his crew."

"Thus giving us more of them to fight, should it come to that," he said.

He wished he hadn't when Theodora's face seemed to pale even more, but she nodded and bit down on the inside of her cheek before sighing sharply.

"Yeah. Well. I assume you've heard the idiom of crossing bridges once you reach them?"

"I don't find it reassuring to hear it uttered here."

"Neither do I," the affected brightness in her tone fell flat.

The mood above deck was fraught with tension as they emerged into the night and made for the steps up to the quarterdeck. Those who had been freshly recruited were, true to Theodora's description, being herded into a tightly packed group on the main deck by several of Sparrow's original crew. They shared dark, suspicious murmurs, and James was not ignorant to the glares they shot Theodora's way. Scumbags they might have been, but idiots they were not. Not all of them, anyway. They sensed that something was afoot. Theodora did not - or could not - look at them as they strode past. When they ascended up onto the quarter deck, they were afforded a clear view of the ship that sat almost eerily still in the water a few hundred yards away.

James watched, perturbed by the very sight of it, but there was no sign of life aboard, nor did it move towards them. It was a monstrosity - great and terrible in every sense, ragged and enormous and incredibly foreboding. Perhaps the effect was worse by night, but he found himself glad that he was forced to pay witness to it in the dark, for he was not sure that the clarity daylight might afford would be of any benefit. He turned to Theodora, only to find her lips pressed tightly together and her brow creased in worry as she regarded the sight. If it was enough to scare her, it was bad. If it was enough to have her showing her fear? That was much, much worse.

Sparrow stood by the rail at the front of the deck, regarding the Dutchman with a solemn frown. For a few moments there was nothing but the agitation of the men on the main deck below. And then the cries of fright began.

Davy Jones and his men appeared - quite literally - out of the woodwork, emerging from the very body of the ship like it was little more than mist. If James had deluded himself into thinking that after dealing with Barbossa's hellish and monstrous crew this would be easy, those pretenses would have died there and then. For Barbossa's men - even in their 'truest' forms - were still more men than the creatures that prowled about them now, all of them half-beast and caked in sea life.

Jones, for even if he didn't don the hat of a captain it would have been plain who he was immediately, was the worst of them all. The tentacles that hung from his face twitched and writhed with his every movement, and the deadly looking claw that he had in place of a hand clicked and clacked at his side, betraying his fury at having been supplied with exactly what he'd asked for.

"Jones!" Sparrow greeted brightly, but his ease was much too forced to be genuine as he swaggered forward to meet the man by the stairs "As you can see, all of the souls you asked for, right here and ready to join your crew."

The clamour that drew from those very souls was immediate.

"What?"

"No! We didn't agree to this!"

"The Dutchman?"

"Become one of them?!"

Theodora's eyes slowly shut, and James watched as she inhaled deeply in an effort to steel herself. It was impossible to hear what Sparrow and Jones were saying to one another over the terror of the crowd, but it was plain to see that Jones was unimpressed, his lip permanently curled while the inane smile never left Sparrow's face. The conversation was a short one, and Jones ended it by turning to his men and barking at them to begin their count of the horrified crowd gathered.

James had never considered himself a coward, but he found himself relieved to be up on the quarterdeck as the terrible crew made their inspection of the men gathered below - and more relieved still that Theodora was up here with him, too.

"The souls here number more than a hundred," Jones ground out, following Sparrow up the stairs to the quarterdeck.

There was shifting all about them as everybody fought the temptation to take several swift steps backwards as the two joined them.

"And I got them to you in less than three days," Sparrow pointed out with a strained sort of brightness "Surely that merits some sort of reward? A consolation prize? Such as young Turner - surely he's worth the extra souls we have here, Jones - er, Davi- Davy? Cap'n Jones?"

While it was disturbing to find himself with anything in common with the infamous Davy Jones, James supposed it would be that they both found Sparrow insufferable.

"Young Master Turner is no longer among my crew," Jones said darkly.

"Oh," Sparrow said slowly "Er…I would point out that I can't be held responsible for his-"

"What?" it was Elizabeth who interrupted now.

Jones turned his glacial gaze to her, and James watched on in dread, praying for some sort of distraction or interruption - and wondering if he should provide it himself. When it came, though, he wished it had not.

"She tricked us!" Wilding was snarling down below, his voice rising high above all others.

That in itself wasn't enough to get Jones' attention - but what he continued on with was.

"Bloody witch!"

It was a cry that echoed throughout the crowd. James inched closer to Theodora as Jones' head whipped towards the crowd. They fell silent as their new captain approached, returning swiftly down the steps to the main deck, the stamp of his malformed leg ringing out through the night like the drums that preceded a hanging. Wildings hands had started to tremble by the time he was face to face with the Dutchman's captain.

"What did you say?" Jones demanded at a growl.

Caught between wanting to look to Theodora while also not wanting to draw attention to her, James settled for a brief glance, and found her hands were clenched into white-knuckled fists at her sides. His hand slowly - casually - travelled towards the hilt of his sword.

"S-she tricked us, Cap'n. Back in Tortuga. Recruited us all over a period of months but never breathed a word of why."

There were several cries of affirmation from the group. Jones stood stock-still.

"Months?" he repeated softly.

Sparrow's eyes fell shut, and Theodora murmured at a volume far quieter than a whisper "Shite."

James' heart clenched in his chest, and what followed had it sinking further and further until it burned a hole in the pit of his stomach. Jones moved through the crowd (easily, considering any time he moved the men gathered fell over themselves to leap out of his way), interrogating them as to when exactly they were recruited for this expedition. The answers ranged from weeks to months, and they all had one thing in common - they all far preceded the time when he'd made his deal with Sparrow.

"Get behind me," James murmured.

"There's nothing you can do," she replied quietly.

It was difficult to say what he hated more - the words themselves, or how accurate they were. But that did not mean he wouldn't try.

"And who is the witch who recruited ye?" Jones was demanding now, his voice rising to a shout "Is she among us?"

The pointing began almost immediately - not helped by how everybody but James took several steps away from Theodora in response, not wishing to be confused with her. Jones' eyes turned to them, and James felt her take in a trembling breath by his side. Not content to move via mortal means, Jones seemed to take one step and then he was before them.

"A trick?" he demanded, eyes filled with nothing short of sheer hatred as he glared at her "You dare try to trick me, Sparrow? Was our agreement not that you would collect the souls I demanded in three days?"

"Jones, mate," Sparrow gave an uneasy laugh.

The move had him whirling around to face Sparrow. James' relief lasted all of two seconds as Sparrow blinked in surprise at him, wavered under the fury emanating from the man who was more monster than man, and then he straightened, brow furrowing in outrage…as he turned on Theodora.

"You tricked me!" He exclaimed at her.

If James could afford to shut his eyes, or to slump his shoulders, he would have. Because of what Sparrow had just done, because of the complete lack of surprise he felt at the turn of events…because of how small Theodora's voice sounded when she replied.

"What?" she breathed, eyes widening in disbelief.

But Sparrow was turning back to Jones "You have to believe me, I've been swindled here just as much as you have."

"Jack - Jack, no," she pleaded "Jack, please, no. Don't do this."

Any vain hope he might've had that this was part of some strange plan they'd hatched in their lengthy discussions that morning was gone as soon as she spoke. James was going to kill him. He was going to cleave his head from his shoulders, he was going to do what he should have done back in Tortuga and rid the world of this sorry excuse for a man once and for all, consequences be damned. Sparrow ignored the pleading with nary a glance towards her.

"Am I guilty of having a witch in my employ? I won't lie to you, mate, I am. Seemed like a handy thing to have at the time, I can't deny it, I throw my hands up," he did so now - quite literally - spinning a yarn as Jones stared him down "But I had no idea that she would break the rules of our little accord in the name of helping me. I'm as much of a victim in this as you, mate. I had no idea, truly. You have my word on that."

Whether Jones believed him or not was difficult to say - although Sparrow's lies were always frighteningly convincing - but when Jones turned back to Theodora, James stepped but an inch or two to the side, trying to shield her from him. And he knew instantly that it was a mistake, for the Captain's eyes lit up with renewed interest, flickering between James and Theodora a few times. The entirety of the ship was utterly silent, but he could almost hear the monster that stood before them thinking.

"Very well," he said it about as calmly as James suspected he said anything, although his face was still riddled with disdain.

Sparrow grinned, clapping his hands together "I'm glad we could work this out. Now by my reckoning, I have what? A day left? Day and a half? What do we say to another hundred souls, and we forget any of this ever happened, eh?"

Jones regarded him silently for a few prolonged seconds. When Sparrow wavered beneath his gaze, he broke the silence - and spoke to his men.

"Seize the witch."

James drew his sword, something that prompted a sick smile from Jones as his men advanced upon them.

"James," Theodora breathed, and the terror in her voice threatened to break his heart.

How many times had he seen her weary, battered, bloodied and bruised, but still cracking jokes? She wasn't joking now - but the whisper of steel beside him told him she'd drawn her own sword. Those gathered around them, their so-called crewmates, all took several steps backwards as Jones' crew advanced. All but Elizabeth, who drew her own sword and stepped forth. Her own dread showed in her eyes, wide and nervous as she took in the four or five monsters that began to converge on them.

"Surely this isn't necessary, I know not to trust her now," Sparrow was saying to Jones "I'll lock her in the brig meself, keep her from interfering."

"I should think I'm doing you a favour. How else am I to be satisfied there'll be no further foul play?" Jones challenged.

The challenge was a clear one, too. Either Sparrow played along in his retribution against Theodora, or he admitted that he hadn't quite been the victim in this he claimed to be at all.

"Yeah. All right. Fair point," Sparrow sighed, lips thinning "Commodore, Elizabeth. Stand down. Dora, go with them."

None of them complied. If James wasn't so otherwise occupied, he'd have lunged for the man there and then - for giving the order, for suspecting it might be listened to at all, for breathing. The beasts drew nearer, and then five became seven, and seven became ten, and James' terror matched that which had shone in Theodora's voice as he knew there was no winning this fight. But that didn't mean he would not fight it all the same.

Elizabeth was the first to fall, seized from behind as she fought the man before her. She was thrown bodily from the fray, landing hard on the deck and then dragged back by Gibbs. Theodora parried an oncoming strike from one, then dodged another, but that dodge sent her straight into the fist of a third who saw it coming - with the amount of bodies bearing down on them, it was impossible to dodge everything. Impossible to win. She recovered quickly, but the man who had struck her had all manner of spines and coral protruding from his fist, and blood began to seep down the side of her brow and into one of her eyes. Her swings became blind, and when the next blow was delivered harshly to her forearm, she cried out and dropped her sword.

James grunted and immediately stepped into the space between her and Jones' crew, but soon happened upon the same problem. He was a good fighter, but he could not fend off ten men at once. He was soon seized by three at once, and no amount of squirming could shake off their hold. A knife was soon pressed against his throat - one that pressed down just so as the crew member who resembled a shark dragged Theodora up by her hair.

Her hands flew behind her head as she tried to claw off his grip, but a yank pulled her head back, her neck taut.

"Jack," whether her voice was weak with panic or because of the dramatic angle her neck was being forced into, it was impossible to tell "Jack, stop them. Jack, tell them. Jack, please!"

Sparrow did not look at her.

"Theodora," James grunted.

Her eyes shifted to him and desperation and fear both burned brightly in her eyes.

"James, I-"

Whatever she was about to say was cut short when the half-man half-shark brought the hilt of his blade down harshly on the back of her head, and she slumped in his grip, unconscious.

"Theodora!" He renewed his fight, but it was futile, and he felt utterly sick as he watched the beast from Jones' crew drag her away, her head lolling and blood dripping down her brow.

Jones and Sparrow were talking as though none of this was happening at all.

"Twenty-four hours, one hundred souls," Jones growled.

"I truly am very sorry for the mix-up," Sparrow offered a strained smile "I'll just return this lot to Tortuga and set about-"

"Oh, there'll be no need for that," Jones said smugly despite the frown on his features "I've no mind for faces, so I'll need to be sure you don't try and present me with any of the same men twice. There's only one solution for that."

His men took that as their signal, chuckled darkly, and then the butchery on the main deck began.

A/N: So don't hate me. But Theo is having to face the fact that she's now a fully fledged character in all of this, and as a fully fledged character in Pirates of the Caribbean, being betrayed by Jack sort of comes with the territory. Poor girl.

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