Author's Note: First, thank you to everyone who reviewed the first chapter.
Everything said was highly appreciated. I don't want to keep you waiting long, but I have a few notes and answers to questions before we begin:
I am going off the assumption that both the monkey and Captain Barbosa are undead, but they are the only ones. I very well might be wrong, but this is just what I'm thinking. I will also explain how it happened further into the story.
The new captain is an OC, but I hope you don't immediately leave the story because of that (I know some people who won't read stories with OC's).
I will definitely start making the stories longer. Normally, the first chapter is fairly short in the stories that I write, but they get longer as I go.
Now, enjoy! R&R!
The Oracle
"So let me get this strait," the captain of the Genesis began summing up everything that she had been told. "Jack Sparrow got himself into some trouble with Davey Jones. He needs the heart of Davey Jones to save himself." She glanced at Will and Elizabeth. "Both of you need the heart to save your fathers. But something happened when you found the heart and it's not with you anymore, it's in Port Royal. Then Jack got himself into some more trouble with the Kraken and you want to go rescue him. And Captain Barbosa you're just here to lead them. 'S'at right?"
Will nodded. That was everything they had seen fit to tell the captain so far. They hadn't mentioned their need for a boat, or for her to captain that boat.
"Well," she said rising from her plushy velvet chair in her captain's quarters, "have fun. Good luck. Get off my ship."
There was instant uproar from the group, with the exception of Barbosa. The captain, who had yet to introduce herself, threw her arms up and sank back down into the chair. She lit up another stick of tobacco as they yelled their protests to her.
"Hey!" she yelled suddenly, demanding silence. "What d'ya want me to do? Go find your captain on the edge of oblivion! I wish you the best of luck! Get off my ship!" She was more forceful than before, but they still would not obey her.
"Captain," Will began desperately, placing his hands on her desk and leaning over to come face-to-face with her. "We need your help. We need you to take us to Jack."
The captain, thoroughly annoyed for she already knew this information, blew smoke in his face. Will choked on the putrid air and fell victim to a fit of coughing. Elizabeth pulled Will away from uncooperative captain while sending her a malicious glare. The captain smirked back.
"Ye've had yer fun, lads," Barbosa cut in. No one but the female captain had been expecting him to so, and they all jumped in surprise when he did. "Let's me show ya how ta reason with a woman."
Barbosa approached the captain, who was waiting expectantly, while the group of five backed away, eyes narrowed in suspicion and confusion.
"Captain, may we be callin' ya anythin' else?" Barbosa asked.
The scowled and replied, "The Oracle or just Oracle is fine."
Behind Barbosa, Ragetti gasped and Pintel's eyes widened. "She don' never die!" Ragetti exclaimed. "She sees da future!" Pintel whispered in awe.
"'Course I die!" The Oracle said with a smirk. "Die every five years." Her expression was so playful and her voice was so full of mischief that Will and Elizabeth did not know whether to laugh at her joke or gasp at the truth.
"Well, Oracle, ye knew we was comin'," Barbosa accused. "Ye knew we was comin' and ye knew why."
"'Course I did. What kind of an oracle would I be if I didn't?" she muttered, but fell silent and waited for Barbosa to continue.
"And since ye knew we was comin', ye coulda shot us then. But ye didn'. Ye brought us on board and took us to yer cabin and ye listened. Ye listened to what ye already knew."
"Yes, I did, does this logic 'ave a point?" She asked without removing the stick of tobacco. The monkey on Barbosa's shoulder screeched angrily at her. She returned his screech by sticking her tongue out at it and making a very unattractive face.
"And ye know Jack," Barbosa continued, steadfastly ignoring her last remark.
"Aye, I know Jack," she whispered. Her eyes glazed over and she had a faraway gaze that puzzled everyone except for Barbosa.
Barbosa let the Oracle go for a moment before continuing down his trail of thought. "Would ye condemn Jack to die alone in oblivion when ye can save 'im? Ye can save the man from Davey Jones if ye get 'is heart. Will ye do it?" He extended his hand towards the woman and waited for her decision.
The Oracle took her time contemplating her choices. The removed her large hat and studied it intently, smoothing out the feather as she thought. There was still one question that she needed answered. It was something that she could have seen the answer to, and probably would, once she grasped his hand. "What happens to me once you've raised the Black Pearl from oblivion? Then you've got your ship and you don't need me, my ship, or my crew. What then?"
Barbosa was ready with a pleasing answer. "Then ye sail beside us away from the depths of the Abyss and back 'ere to Tortuga."
Not trusting a word of what the undead captain said, the Oracle grasped his rough, callused hand. "We have a deal. But I demand payment. I want Jack's compass."
"Ask and ye shall receive," Barbosa grinned.
"Good. We're due to be in Port Royal in two days anyway. If we leave today we can arrive by tomorrow. I'll go ashore and take the heart, and then we'll go rescue you're beloved Captain Jack," the Oracle announced.
Elizabeth, appalled by the ethics of pirates, could not stand to be silent anymore. "That's it! You'll save a man's a life in exchange for a compass! Not because you know the man or just want to help him! You want payment!" She spat out the word like it was a poison. She looked from one captain to another and saw through their outward differences to their inner faults. It didn't matter how many times the Oracle bathed or brushed her hair or how well she articulated; the greed in her heart was no different than that of the rough, dirty Barbosa that stood in front of her. Both were completely consumed and compelled by greed. There was no place in their hearts for love.
The Oracle's eyes narrowed. She decided it was no longer time to play fair. Let these fools learn just who they're dealing with, she thought malevolently.
"Aye, payment." She rose from her chair and slowly made her way over to Elizabeth. "Shall we have a battle of wills and morals?" Her voice was soft and deadly, but Elizabeth stood her ground. Will started forward to intervene, but the Oracles voice cracked like a whip and stopped him in his tracks. "Just the ladies!"
She turned her attention back to Elizabeth. "Do I detect some emotional distress? Some sort of inner feud? I'm sure it must be very difficult, and I suppose you didn't stop to think at the time, but how hypocritical is it that you first condemn Jack Sparrow to die alone at the edge of the world, then decide it is immoral that a woman who is barely his acquaintance does not take action to help?"
"What is she saying, Elizabeth?" Will demanded, suspicious of Elizabeth.
"I'm not the one who handcuffed him to the Black Pearl, dearie. I didn't leave him for the Kraken. And I'm not the one whose conscience is going to eat me alive for my actions." Her eyes never left Elizabeth. She watched as the would-be pirate woman paled beneath her tan and stood motionless.
Satisfied that she had made her mark, the Oracle turned away. "Aye, I demand payment and it will be Jack's compass or naught. And I alone will go ashore to Port Royal to collect the heart of Davey Jones." She now turned to Will Turner to challenge him. "It will happen this way or not at all."
Will nodded, his eyes still focused on his fiancé.
"Good. My crew will take you below, show you where you can sleep. Tomorrow we'll drop anchor in Port Royal." With those words she dismissed the six pirates who ascended her boat in the dark of night and convinced her to undertake some wild adventure that many of her crew would surely not survive. Why did she do it?
She did not even need to ask herself that question for she knew the answer. She was truly an Oracle and being such she could look into the past at will and see what the future may hold. Yet her latest vision had terrified her, stopping her from sleeping, eating, and working. It was beginning to consume her life. But now she was ready to embrace it. She was already evolving a plan. It was time to see him again, to offer him peace after so many restless years.
It was time to save the love of her life.
Port Royal
Lord Cutler Beckett sat behind his rich mahogany desk in a barely illuminated room. The blazing flames in the marble fireplace served as the only source of light and cast eerie yellow shadows across the walls. Yet he did not see those. He didn't see the lavish surroundings, or the wind coming in through the open glass panes, or rustling papers, or even the shadow of a figure slipping into the room.
No, Lord Cutler Beckett was blind to everything except what was lying before his eyes. There, positioned directly in front of him, wrapped carefully in dark blue linen, wrested his ticket to power. This would make him Lord Cutler Beckett, most powerful man in the East India Trading Company. He would be the most respected, and most dangerous, man on the seas.
Thump, thump. Thump, thump.
His eyes gleamed at the wondrous sound, the only sound that filled his ears. The sound of success, the sound of power. His eyes reflected all of the hopes and dreams that formed with every new thump made by the heart of Davey Jones.
And she saw it all.
Lord Cutler Beckett glanced up suddenly. A shadow danced across the wall and ripped him from his hopeful daze. He instantly placed a protective hand over the heart and prepared to grab it up and stow it away for safekeeping.
He paused as he spotted a figure sitting in a chair in the corner of the room. Shrouded in shadow, Beckett could barely make out the figure. He strained his eyes to penetrate the darkness and began to make out a rough silhouette, a well-dressed, unfamiliar man whose face was surrounded by a cloud of smoke. Then the figure spoke.
"Fascinating, isn't it?" She asked softly.
Beckett, taken aback by the fact that it was a woman, remained silent. He watched the mysterious woman carefully. One hand rested firmly on the heart of Davey Jones while the other slowly began opening a drawer in his desk, reaching for his gun.
"Now, now, there's no need to be violent," she chided softly, almost playfully. "I'm not here to threaten."
Beckett's hand froze on the handle of the drawer. How did she know what he doing? As he pondered that question he finally found his voice. "Then why are you here? And how did you get here, in the first place?"
"I find your security somewhat lacks," she commented, rising from the chair and moving over to the fireplace. Beckett studied her more clearly in the light of the fire, though he could still not see her face. "And to answer your other question, I'm here to persuade you."
Regaining some of his composure, Beckett resumed pulling the drawer open slowly. However, he had only just begun when he was stopped yet again by the voice of the intruder.
"I really wouldn't do that if I were you." Her voice was still soft with an edge of mischief to it. She flicked her stick of tobacco into the fire and turned to face him. "It could have a very bloody ending."
Seeing her face for the first time, Beckett was mesmerized. It was not her beauty that held him, though she was very beautiful. The sparkle of her eyes and the wisdom they held caught his gaze and would not let him go. In that moment when he could not look away, he had the distinct impression that she knew everything about him, from his first words to exactly what move he would make next.
She smirked at his reaction and pointed to the drawer his hand still rested on. "Look for yourself."
Finally able to tear his eyes away from her, he looked down as instructed. Beckett's breath caught in his throat. A thin cord was wrapped around the golden handle of the drawer. It extended downward as something he recognized as a trap. His eyes followed the cord all the way up the wall where a gun was positioned, pointing steadfastly at his head.
"If you continue opening it," she explained needlessly, "you'll trip the wire and it will shoot you."
"I was under the impression that you did not want to threaten me," Beckett remarked smoothly. He received only a smirk from her. "What do you want?"
"A pointless question," she laughed. "What else would I want, but what you so carefully guard?"
"This is absurd!" Beckett snarled. He moved to rise swiftly from his chair and push it away from him. Yet again he was interrupted mid motion by this strange female intruder.
"Perhaps, but I wouldn't do that either." Instantly, Beckett glanced around to find another trip cord, which he did. It was tied to the legs of the chair and run to another gun, also pointed at him. He was alone and defenseless.
The woman strutted towards him and placed her hands on his desk. She was too near to the heart for his comfort. "It's amazing what the Royal Guard if they are under the impression that you and the most valuable trinket to Mother England are in danger. They set it all up themselves, honest. Of course, I had managed to persuade them that someone was going to break in and steal the heart. They were certain that this would take care of them."
Beckett glared and snarled at her. He was certain now that she was a pirate.
"Lord Beckett, I think it's time that you admit that I've won this round. Fret not for another is fast approaching. But for the time being, I am victor and I'll claim my prize." She reached out towards the heart of Davey Jones, but Beckett pulled it closer to him.
In one fluid motion she reached towards her belt, withdrew a gun, and aimed it at his head. "As I said, fear not for you'll get another chance. My ship, the Genesis, is docked not far from here. You won't be able to catch us, but you'll keep us in sight. And if, God forbid, you lose us, we'll make a stop at the Isla de Angeles. If nothing else we'll be there."
In a single instant everything clicked for the lord. He saw her and recognized her from the tales he had heard of her ruthlessness. "You are the Oracle. You are the mistress of the Genesis, Mystique, and Prowess. You can see the future."
"So the old wives' tales go," the Oracle said carelessly. She took advantage of his moment of stunned silence and grabbed the heart. As she made her way to the door she looked back at him over her shoulder. "One more thing, I don't suggest you tell your fleet that they're sailing to meet the Oracle in a vicious sea battle where Davey Jones is likely to surface unexpectedly. They won't be too keen on the idea."
With that she disappeared out the door. Lord Cutler Beckett immediately called in his guards. Four red-coated soldiers ran into the room brandishing guns. A particularly foolish guard rushed over to Beckett and, despite his commands to stop, pushed his chair across the room.
There was a soft click.
Beckett swore loudly at the cursed pirate woman. There were no bullets in the gun she rigged.
