Chapter 4 – Freedom
Davy Jones finally made his choice.
It had taken months of thought, weeks of thinking about memories he'd not revisited for decades, and days of talking listening to the only man in the world who could get away with speaking to the Captain of the Flying Dutchman in such a casual manner.
"Life is cruel," Jones had told a dying man. "Why should the afterlife be any different?"
When the recruitment was over, his helmsman said thoughtfully, "They might be cruel, mate, but at least they're not boring."
Jack Sparrow had an uncanny ability to get to the heart of truly important matters.
"Let no joyful voice be heard!" Jones had declared when hunting down the last of the Pirate Lords. "Let no man look up at the sky with hope! And let this day be cursed by we who ready to wake... the Kraken!"
Sparrow, so quietly that Jones had needed to use his powers to hear, had whispered under his breath, "No joyful voice be yours, the man without hope."
Most of the time, the man was a stumbling, bumbling, if occasionally clever buffoon.
"The chest is no longer safe," he had said to his crew when a hurricane threatened to flood the cay he'd chosen, long ago, as its resting place. "It must not be lost to the waves."
Again speaking so softly that Jones wouldn't have caught it without his powers, Sparrow said, "If you choose to lock your heart away, you'll lose it for certain.
But in those rare moments that Sparrow spoke without careless frivolity...
"The sea is a harsh mistress," Jones had once remarked when Sparrow had been at the wheel.
This incident stood out above all others in his mind.
"Aye," his helmsman had said, looking longingly across the waves. "But that's freedom, mate. Harsh, brutal, honest... beautiful. Would you have her any other way?"
...Those few somber sentences were more insightful than anything Davy Jones had experienced in his centuries of sailing the sea.
So in the end, Jones had decided.
He would free Calypso.
He had already gathered everything he needed.
Barbossa's aid was already promised, and the man truly was a pirate of his word. He stayed true to the Code – or what he interpreted to be the Code's intent – in everything he did.
Sparrow's aid was also promised, and the scalawag's knack for quickly cheating his way through games of Liar's Dice had turned out to be a fortuitous circumstance, as nine mortal Pirate Lords were needed for the Ritual of Release. If Sparrow had still been bound to his crew, things would have been more difficult.
The other seven Pirate Lords had been consigned to the Locker – not through death, but direct transport, meaning they were still technically mortal, but cursed into a state of Purgatory until the moment when (or if) Jones decided to release them.
And he would release them, with the promise that they would be freed from Purgatory if they released Calypso. They would be freed from Purgatory... and sent somewhere worse. Though of course he had not told them the second part.
Now, he only had one thing left to do.
In the cells of the Dutchman...
"What date should we meet?"
"No dates," whispered his love, trapped in human form. "No binding commitments."
"Then when?"
"You will know when it is time."
His heart almost broke. It was so ambiguous, so unsure, so uncertain. So... her.
"I'll bring your heart," she whispered, "if you bring the key."
Nine Pirate Lords had been gathered, Nine Pieces of Eight collected, and one mortal woman found.
Jack Sparrow, in a surprising act of compassion, had located the witch Tia Dalma a few weeks after being dropped off at Tortuga. "No strings attached, mate," he had said, "though I'd appreciate the use of that handy curse from time to time."
The nine Pirate Lords stood in a circle, Jack Sparrow and Hector Barbossa among them. Neither were currently cursed, though Captain Barbossa of the Black Pearl had carefully and casually positioned himself so that a sail stood between himself and the moon, while Captain Sparrow of the dingy ambled aimlessly as he waited. Both men had found a way of surviving what was to come, though Barbossa's method had taken a bit of cleverness.
The Captain of the Black Pearl had found a workaround to the Curse of Cortez. He needed to be mortal for the ritual and immortal right after, but to become immortal he would need to be re-cursed, and he couldn't simply teleport to the Isla De Muerta at the tip of his hat like Davy Jones and his crew could teleport anywhere above the sea. However, if Barbossa had Jack steal a coin of Cortez for him, he would only become undead again once the coin touched his flesh.
The Nine Pirate Lords held ropes which engulfed Tia Dalma almost entirely, only her head free. A bowl of junk had just been lit aflame before her, the smoky incense wafting to her nostrils.
"Calypso," Davy Jones whispered. "I release you from your human bonds."
Barbossa dropped the ropes he was holding, accepted the coin from his monkey, then tipped his hat to the two. Jack Sparrow, to the utter shock of every Pirate Lord present except Barbossa, hastily shouted "I bind myself to the Dutchman's Crew for ten years!" as he dropped his own ropes.
The Pirate Lords glanced nervously amongst each other, not yet aware their lives were forfeit. They belonged to the sea now, and it was the sea to which they would return.
The organ of Davy Jones, as much a part of him as the ship itself, began to play. Deep, ominous, bone-rattling tones reverberated across the deck. That, along with a chill wind that quickly grew in strength, struck fear into the hearts of every mortal who felt it.
That fear was not at all alleviated when the wind whipped at the sails above the Captain of the Black Pearl, revealing a nightmarish sight. Across the clothes of the Barbossa, the moon flickered and shone; the undead monstrosity flashed back and forth from flesh to bone. Beside him Jack swayed, skin slimy and gray, with watery flesh keeping cold death at bay.
In old tales t'was said
that only men damned or dead
could stay where She tread.
Davy Jones opened his locket.
His love stared deep into his eyes, then she smiled and removed her own from her pocket.
From each trinket a tune rang out across the sea.
And voices began singing to the music of the melody.
I'm going to take a massive risk next chapter and do something I would never, ever recommend any writer on this website try to do. I'm going to upload a chapter that's musical/poetic, and it'll be a serious attempt rather than humor or parody. I know written music/lyrics get a bad rep, and I won't blame anyone for stopping now and ignoring the last chapter.
After I heard a certain set of lyrics given to Davy Jones' organ and locket theme, I couldn't not write the finale the way I did. It's the entire reason I wrote chapters two, three, four, and five, rather than just leaving this as a one-shot of spooky scary skeletons vs fishy fleshy seafarers.
That said, for those who do want to keep reading, it would be best if you hear the inspiration before reading the inspired, if you haven't already. All you have to do is type "Davy Jones Theme Lyrics" into YouTube. The one who came up with the lyrics to Davy Jones' theme was Fialeja, then The Man on the Internet did his own cover, then they collabbed and did a duet. I'd recommend listening to Fialeja's version first, then the duet. Her video should be at the top of the search results, and she links the duet in the description.
I'll be changing and rearranging the lyrics very slightly, but only to the point that they make sense in context. For the most part, it'll a copy-paste of the lyrics, with narration in the form of poetry interspersed to describe the events that go on in the meantime. It's a combination of musical lyrics and poetry, played to the tune of death and cruelty. If that doesn't sound like something you want to read, like I said I completely understand if you stop reading now and pretend the next chapter, whenever I upload it, doesn't exist.