"So," Barbossa turned to the woman standing next to him. The loud sound of the plank being retracted momentarily interrupted their conversation - the noise stemmed from the friction of rough wood against wood and the clattered as it escaped the crewman's gasp. Barbossa threw him an angry glance, but then focused on Tia Dalma against, "Enlighten me. What are they going to have to face there?" he indicated the abyss vaguely.

Tia Dalma hesitated before she replied and for a moment he almost expected her to ignore his question completely. "It's hard to tell…"

"Well, guess what. I figured that part out all by myself," he said sarcastically.

The voodoo priestess shot him a dirty look, "As I was just gonna explain…Raising the dead is tricky business, it's a lot to ask, so you have to give a lot in return," came her rather enigmatic answer.

"I'm not sure I understand that," Barbossa frowned.

"It's a bargain, Hector," she smiled at him sweetly, but somehow she looked like a cobra trying to hypnotize its prey, "Death's a little bit like fear. Fear freezes da blood," she liked her lips as she uttered this delicious word, "it confuses de mind. It can be the reason for defeat and failure…They'll have to conquer their worst fears to prove they be worthy of receiving the gift of the abyss."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Will was standing in front of a panoramic window. The midday light fell on his face and made him squint his eyes. The thick glass slightly distorted the vision of the outside world, nevertheless he could clearly see the endless blue of the ocean stretching beneath him from where he stood. The slight rocking told him he was aboard of a ship.

He shook his head. Somehow this didn't feel right, as if he had expected to be somewhere else. Where was he anyways? He turned around and let his eyes roam over his surroundings. This was probably the captain's quarters, given the room's luxurious decoration. There was a heavy mahogany desk with all sorts of maps laying on it, a big hat rested casually at the corner of the table and right next to it an expensive looking spyglass. He weighted it in his hand and looked at his with interest of a connoisseur. It was excellent craftsmanship, probably worth a fortune. He respectfully laid it back right on the spot from where he had first taken it.

Heavy burgundy curtains hung left and right of the huge window, expensive tapestries covered the floor and he strongly suspected the large wooden chest in the corner of the room to be filled with treasure. He eyed it interestedly, than finally gave into his curiosity and decided to sneak a peak. It would do no harm. Will was halfway across the room when the door was ripped open and another person marched in. It was Jack Sparrow. William froze in tracks, as if he had just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and looked at the pirate with wide eyes. Which puzzled him even more than Jack's unexpected arrival was the fact that he felt oddly relieved seeing him. He almost felt compelled to give him a hug. But why? William made a face. How strange! Yet another thing he couldn't remember.

"Dreadfully sorry to intrude Captain," Jack told him ere William could ask what was going on, "but I fear we have a tiny," he made a gesture with his hand, "really just a wee little problem."

He was the Captain? Now he was realizing what was going on. This was just another one of Jack's silly jokes. He would dish him some cock-and-bull story and use Will's gullibility and trusting nature to poke fun of him. This time he wouldn't allow him the satisfaction of succeeding, so he played along, "And what is this tiny, wee little problem?"

"Well, the crew is showing a certain weariness, some of them, hardly anybody at all…just two or three of them, you see…have been voicing complaints," he grinned at him apologetically.

"How many exactly?" William asked worriedly.

"Just a few," Jack answered evasively.

"How many!" William's voice had considerably increased in volume, when he asked the second time.

"Well….all of them," the other man admitted finally.

"That's a mutiny. We have a mutiny, on our hands!" Will exclaimed agitatedly. "Alright, what is it that they want?"

"How should I know? That's a deeply philosophic question: what a man wants…can hardly be answered in this short a time."

"Alright," the young man rolled his eyes. "Let's asked them then, shall we."

William hastened out of his quarters and up the stair that led on deck. The steps creak under his forceful steps. As he went he could already hear the arguing, excited voices of the crew, by then he had ruled out the possibility that this could be a prank after all. He ripped open the two winged wooden door and stepped out into the light. Immediately the men stopped talking and a tense silence engulfed the ship.

William looked around and so only grim expressions, disapproving frowns and angry glances. He had to say something and it better be something very convincing and authoritarian. But what on earth was he to tell them? His musings were interrupted by noisy steps behind them that announced the tardy arrival of Jack. He was glad to have a friend at his side in a situation like that.

"What am I supposed to tell them?" he whispered at him over his shoulder.

"See, that's the thing…I don't have the slightest idea," Jack replied in a lowered voice.

"Aren't you supposed to help me in a situation like that? After all you're my first mate…"

"Listen up, Whelp, I'd very much like to assist you with some brilliant advice, but unfortunately my last mutiny didn't bode all to well for me. You surely do remember my involuntary exile on that bloody island…"

So that probably meant he was alone in this. Bloody brilliant! Either he spoke now or he waited for the wrath of the crew to unleash on him. He definitely wasn't inclined to let the latter happen.

"So," he looked around challengingly. "What is it that you want?" His voice reverberated loudly over the deck and was only interrupted by the erratic calls of the seagulls flying above.

First there was embarrassed silence, then a coarse looking man, with a hawkish nose and dark eyebrows answered, "What we want?" he laughed out ironically and stepped out of the crowed. "What we want is for you to finally come to your senses, eh?" he looked around for approval, which his comrades were ready to provide with loud cheers and whistles.

"We're not a bunch of cowardly ninnies, we're not Samaritans either…or what their likes are called….we're pirates!" the cheers increased in intensity at his last word. "We haven't made any loot lately…and why is that? Because our captain's too chicken to actually pillage and plunder." A few loud ayes followed his words suit.

Will raised his hands in order to indicate he wanted to reply and after a while the calls subsided, "Look…what's your name sailor?"

"Butch," the name fitted his character precisely. It already sounded somewhat brutal and raw. William had no doubts that this man was able to unflinchingly commit murder.

"Butch…," the name rolled from his tongue with a certain distaste, "since you are a pirate you should know that not every Dick, Tom and Harry is allowed to call himself captain. A captain doesn't lead his men blindly into battle, he chooses the most profitable goal and targets it. He knows how to pick his battles. And most importantly he's a man other should talk to with respect," he glared at his opponent meaningfully. The few hesitant cheers that followed his words proved that the mood was already wavering in his favour and gave him some additional confidence.

"You're talking about being a captain and stuff, but it still remains to be seen if you'll stay alive long enough to finish your little speech," Butch decided to make up for his lack in eloquence by violence. He drew his sword and stepped closer threateningly. A handful of other men followed his example.

Will could feel the palms of his hands become sweaty, but nevertheless he didn't allow his fear to show its on his face or in his demeanour. "Obviously you haven't understood a word I'm saying," he put on hand on the hilt of his sword. "A captain is not just the most powerful person on board of a ship. He's a provider, he looks out for his fellow crewmen. This isn't a dictatorship, it's much rather a democracy. It does not only matter what I say, but what the others say as well.
So if you lot think, that Butch here, will be a good captain, that he will not lead you into senseless battles and get you killed…please, feel free to join him," he looked around and noted with a considerable amount of satisfaction that some men out of Butch's following were already starting to fade back into the crowd.

As he drew his own sword even more of them started to retreat. Even if they doubted his abilities as captain of the ship, his mastery of the sword was undisputed. "Does anybody want to challange me?Because I won't back down without a fight." His voice sounded determined and persuaded a few doubters of his suitability for being captain.

"I do," Butch stepped out of the shelter of the crowd, unwilling to relent.

William's response was only a weak smile. Some would have called it arrogance, but as a matter of fact it was not. He just knew his abilities, what he could or could not do and what he definately could do, was defeat his opponent. After a few minutes this assessment was verified, since Butch was lying at his feet clutching his bleeding shoulder with one hand. The fight had been short, Butch's attacks had been forceful thanks to his anger, but rather sloppy.

"So, who do you choose?" William called out one more time, as he towered victorously over his challenger. There was a slight hesitation than a disorderly choir of voices answered, "You Captain Turner!" He had won the battle, but not war. The crowd slowly started to disperse.

"Nice touch how you handled the mutiny bit," Jack told him off-beat and whistled through his teeth to show how impressed he was.

"Thanks….I guess," William shrugged casually.

"Captain, what are we supposed to do with the mutineer?" a crewman asked eagerly.

William looked up to the sky as if the answer was to be found there and indeed it was. Seagulls were circling the mast and crying to each other. Their presence could only mean one thing - that land was close by.

"Prepare the plank," he said simply. As he had demonstrated quite impressively, he was the captain of this ship and it sometimes required taking some uncomfortable decisions. Butch sneered as the men lead him off, but it left William unfazed.

"I was right….like most of the times," Jack grinned at him triumphantly.

"About what?" the young man asked confusedly.

"You're quite a good pirate. You've finally understood what this is all about," he made a vast gesture with his hand, basically indicating the entire ship. "It seems that the blood can't be denied after all."

"So it seems," William replied after a moment of hesitation. A smile was slowly spreading on his face, but quickly disappeared, when his eyes perceived something he could barely believe to be true. The world around him suddenly seemed to be melting away like wax. Like the layers of an onion reality peeled away, starting from the top - the sky. What lay underneath its azure blue vastness was a greyish rocky surface. William blinked repeated, but it seemed that his vision wasn't playing any tricks on him. This was really happening. He anxiously retreated as if he was afraid he himself would vanish together with this illusion that surrounded him.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was Elizabeth's wedding day. The sun was rising over Port Royal and the terrace on which the ceremony was to take place was slowly heating up. She tugged self-consciously at her elaborate dress. It had cost her father a fortune, but nevertheless it didn't manage to be comfortable. Elizabeth moved her fan vigorously up and down to provide at least some refreshment and to find an outlet for her nervousness. The lacing of the dress pressed uncomfortably against her skin and she couldn't help but look forward to the time it was finally undone. Some naughty thoughts invaded her mind and she blushed ever so slightly.

"Elizabeth, my dear, are you ready to go?" Governor Weatherby Swann asked his daughter gently. In his eyes she was still his little girl and he couldn't imagine how time could have flown by so quickly. Yet again this was her wedding day, which must inevitably mean that she was an adult and he had to let her go.

Elizabeth briefly looked at him in wonder as if she didn't know what he was talking about, but then finally nodded. He offered her his arm and they stepped out on the aisle that let up to the makeshift alter. Left and right of them a murmur went through the guests as they first laid eye on the beautiful bride and her father who was beaming with pride. The slowly marched on in a dignified way and Elizabeth could feel her heart beating a little louder with each step she took.

They had arrived at their destination and her father gave her arm one last affectionate squeeze before he walked away to take his seat. She turned around to the man who was waiting for her at the altar, the one she was about to marry. Her groom was looking dashing with his three-cornered hat and his mischievous smirk reassuringly in place as always. He was contently stroking his goatee, while he eyed her over admiringly. Jack offered her his arm and they made the last couple of steps to the altar together.

Elizabeth's smile broadened as she met yet another familiar face. William was standing there with a stern expression on his face. He was clothed in robes of a priest and looked at them complacently, as he opened the prayer book that rested in his hands to start the ceremony.

As he started reading in his beautiful, melodic voice as strange sensation invaded her, which she wasn't able to shake off anymore. The words William said faded into an indiscernible blur as she lost herself in her thoughts. There was something odd about this situation, but she wasn't able to put her finger on what it was exactly.

Ere she could make up her mind about it her attention was abruptly drawn back to the ceremony, when she heard Will utter the words, "Captain Jack Sparrow do you take this woman, Elizabeth Swann to be your lawfully wedded wife? Do you promise to cherish her in sickness and in health till death do you part?"

The uncharacteristic stern expression on Jack's face let her look at him in astonishment, when he replied, "I do," without any hesitation. Will nodded at his answer contently and turned shortly after to Elizabeth.

"And now I ask you Elizabeth Swann do you take this man, Captain Jack Sparrow, to be your lawfully wedded Husband? Do you promise to cherish and love him until death do you part?" the question hovered in the air unanswered. She had understood the words with complete clarity, only that now something seemed to hinder her from answering, let alone speaking.

Could she do what this vow asked of her? Doubtlessly there was a considerable amount of physical attraction between Jack and her. Elizabeth gave him one more look as if to check and was rewarded with a charming grin, during which he flashed her his sparkling golden teeth. Inevitably her eyes landed on his lips – the lips she had kissed only a couple of days ago. A couple of days ago? Wait, that wasn't right. It seemed odd that they didn't kiss in such a long time after all they were engaged. Maybe they had argued….She quickly banished the thought from her mind as it didn't lead anywhere nor contribute to solving the problem at hand.

At least a dozen eyes rest on her and she could feel the pressure of the important decision rest on her shoulders heavily. Nevertheless this was something that could change her whole life, so she had to think carefully. An embarrassed cough was audible, coming somewhere from the back of the aisle.

Jack bent over and whispered conspiratorially in her ear, "Come on, dear. Let's get this over with. Can't wait to peel you out of this dress tonight."

To say that the possibility didn't tempt her would have been a lie, but this discovery only added to her confusion. Somehow in the midst of all this insanity Will and her had made eye contact and though it was only for a fleeting moment it had a profound effect on Elizabeth. It felt like she had slept to long and was know finally waking up.

"No," she said at first softly. Then repeated it aloud with more reassurance in her voice, "No, I don't want to."

Jack's coal rimmed eyes obtruded comically as he pointed his finger at her dramatically. It slightly wavered in the air right in front of her face. His tone of voice though, took the force out of the whole scene. It sounded as if he was merely telling a child it had lied to him - very casual. "Traitor," he said.

Her father, however, was not as unfazed by the happenings as Jack. Governor Swann got to his feet in indignation. This was an outrage! "Elizabeth, I don't understand what's going on….You kissed this man, so you must love him."

"But I don't," she said and couldn't help but noticed that her voice sounded oddly relieved.

" How do you mean you don't?" her father asked confusedly.

"Well….there one thing such as flirtation and there is love. Jack's quite the attractive man, but I'm afraid I don't love him. No offence, Jack."

"None taken," he shrugged his shoulders casually, then sauntered over to launch casually on the empty seats in the front row. He figured his active part in this was over, so he might as well enjoy the show.

Elizabeth frowned at his behaviour, after all only a couple of minutes ago he had been only too eager to marry her, but suddenly it occurred to her. She almost would have forgotten, this was Jack. To him almost everything was a game.

"I treated Jack very poorly, for which I'm deeply sorry," she lowered her head. The profoundness of her emotion unsettled her. It was as if she had done something inexcusable, the worst thing about it, or maybe it was truly for the better, was that she couldn't remember what it had been at all. "I'm sorry Jack," Elizabeth repeated. The rational distance had disappeared from her voice.

He just tipped his hat and winked at her, which was his way of showing he accepted her apology.

After a few seconds she had collected herself again and was able to continue, " I think it's time I finally admit it…I've been afraid to get married. I suppose its only naturally…after all they have a name for it: 'cold feet'," her mouth briefly curled into a smile, which immediately disappeared when she looked into her father's stern face. She hurried to explain herself more thoroughly, "I've never imagined it could happen to me, but I guess I just didn't understand how big a commitment marriage really is…after all you're promising to spend the rest of your life with this one special person," she briefly stopped talking and closed her eyes to order the chaotic array of thoughts that were buzzing through her head. She had not expected that she would have to explain herself and it seemed difficult to find the right words.

"I've been doing a lot of thinking these last couple of days," Elizabeth finally continued, "Love is not always easy….it maybe very easy at first, but as time passes complications arise. You have to put all your effort into keeping a relationship together and start every day with the conscious decision for the person you love. No matter what has happened or how much has changed. You have to be willing to grow together, respect each other," the next word she uttered held a lot of emotion, "talk to each other….something I unfortunately neglected doing in the past few days…but now I'm even more sure than ever, it's him I want to be with."

"Which isn't me, right?" Jack interjected.

"No, I'm sorry," she lowered her head.

"Never mind. Just checking," he crossed his arms over his chest and leant back comfortably in his seat.

"But who is it then, Elizabeth?" her father asked her almost imploringly.

"The one that fate brought to me," she smiled a little and unconsciously touched her neck where once the golden coin of Cortez had hung from a delicate golden chain, "And even though I've been knowing him for years, I still want to know him better…He's my best friend, my confidant, my soul mate…At times he can be my worst critic and enrage me like no one does, but that's alright, because I deep down I know that our arguments can never be serious as long as we love each other," she turned around and looked at William with tears shining in her eyes.

"Do you still love me?" her voice was emotionally charged and uncharacteristically fragile

"Yes," he said without hesitation.

They kissed passionately. All the bent up frustration, the relief upon their conciliation was poured into this kiss and made them forget the world around them entirely. When they broke apart and looked around in astonishment, the terrace were they had stood had vanished and was replaced by the depressing grey stonewalls of a cave.