The only person of noble blood that Ragetti had ever felt sorry for was his mother.
However, he was starting to feel sorry for another as Beckett stood in front of the map that had been put up behind his desk, his back facing the rest of the room as Weatherby Swann was brought in, his rich clothes gone and his face looking worn and old without his big wig.
He was pleading for his daughter's life after Beckett told him about his pursuit of the Black Pearl and everyone on it and Ragetti found it interesting that the man did not care about his own condition, just his daughter's.
In the end, a deal was struck and his shackles were removed before Beckett and his soldiers left him alone with Ragetti in the office, promising to return with clothes more suitable for a governor to wear.
Falling into a chair, Weatherby held his head in his hands in shame.
"What have I done?"
"Ye shouldn' feel so bad."
Blinking, Weatherby looked up in surprise at the lanky man chained to his harp, noticing him for the first time.
"Who..?"
"Me name's Ragetti." He said with a shrug, looking down at his bleeding fingers. "Ye kin call me Rags if'n ye wan' ta though. Et don' really matta ta me."
Weatherby stared at him before recognition dawned on him.
"You were one of the pirates from the Black Pearl!" he said.
"Aye."
"You…you and the other one were caught in dresses!" Blushing at the memory, Ragetti looked down at the ground and nodded once more.
"'e did look noice in tha' yeller dress." He mumbled as if to himself.
"What are you doing here?" Weatherby asked.
"Beckett killed me matelot an' keeps me 'ere ta play 'im music." He said softly, looking away. Weatherby blushed, feeling sorry for bringing up something that must have been painful for the young man.
"I'm a horrible person." He murmured to himself.
"Why do ye say tha'?" Ragetti asked, looking up.
"I just gave up my daughter's fiancé and Port Royal to a demented freak in a horrible wig." he said.
"Bu' ye did et fer yer daughter." Ragetti pointed out. "Tha's wot a paren' does fer their children. They make sacrifices fer 'em."
"And what would a pirate like you know about a parent making sacrifices?" Weatherby snapped.
"Me mum died fer me." Ragetti said. Weatherby winced at this.
"Sorry."
Shrugging, Ragetti smiled for the first time in a long time.
"Et's all righ'." He said. "Ye remind me o' 'er actually." He admitted.
"Why is that?"
"She used ta be a lady o' 'igh standin' afore she met me da'." He explained with a shrug. "Bu' then 'e lef' 'er alone in Tortuga an' she was forced ta be a whore ta raise me."
"What was her name?" Weatherby asked gently, feeling a little sorry for him and his mother.
Ragetti looked up in thought and Weatherby realized that one of his eyes was not real, but just a really well made glass one.
"Eliza…Amity…" he hesitated then, unable to remember her last name.
"Eliza Amity Annot?!" Weatherby offered in surprise. Ragetti thought about it for a moment before he then smiled and nodded.
"Tha's et! Me mum's name was Eliza Amity Annot!" he said. "Bu' 'ow did ye know et?"
"The Annot family has a lot of influence in London, even though it's common knowledge that their only daughter ran off to be with a pirate." Weatherby admitted. "I can't believe that you're her son!"
Blushing, Ragetti shrugged.
"I suppose so." He said. "I can' believe et either really."
"But you spoke about sacrifices before and how she died for you. How did she die?" he asked.
Ragetti was silent, and Weatherby blushed.
"I'm sorry. If it's too painful for you…"
"Nah…I'm jus' finkin' abou' et." Ragetti assured him.
The silence lingered on for a few minutes, Ragetti's fingers dancing over the strings before he suddenly spoke up again.
" 'er pimp…'e were a righ' evil bastar' ta 'er!" he growled, narrowing his good eye. "'un day I followed 'er while she was workin' an' I saw 'im 'it 'er! I ran a' 'im an'…'e 'it me an' was goin' ta stab me when she stepped in…"
A flash of red splattered on the walls came into his mind and he winced and pressed his hands against his temples.
"He killed her." Weatherby finished gently.
"Aye." Ragetti nodded, lowering his hands and resting them in his lap sadly. "She died fer me, an' all I did was become a bloody pirate loik me da' an' 'is soide o' the family. They were all pirate lords, bu' I was too stoopid ta become 'un meself. Barbossa was picked instea' o' me."
Weatherby was not sure what he could say to try and make him feel better, but he did stand up and walk over to him, resting a hand on his shoulder.
"I'm sure that your mother is watching you right now, and that she's proud of you." He offered.
"I'm sure yer wife is doin' the same fing." Ragetti said and Weatherby looked down at him in surprise.
"How did..?"
"Why are you touching my harp player?"
The two men flinched and looked over at Beckett in surprise.
"We was jus' talkin'."
"Just talking, what?" Beckett demanded.
"Masta." Ragetti sighed. Nodding stiffly, Beckett gave Weatherby a warning look.
"I'll let it slide this time, but don't ever touch my harp player again. Understood?"
Looking over at a miserable Ragetti, Weatherby nodded and Beckett smiled happily.
"Good."