A/N: Teehee I am most villainous. The idea for this chapter came from overexposure to Furuba and Advent Children, so be warned! We're leaving the realm of the Caribbean and entering the realm of…crossovers! Oh, and this chapter might be a little darker than the other ones so far, but the next one shall have more humor.
Inwë glared furiously at the hull of the Flying Dutchman. She wished more than anything that she didn't have to go on board that cursed ship and strike a deal with the devil himself. Her only comfort was that her friends were coming with her, for emotional support. She was going to need it.
Norrington and Sirius, having tasted enough of death and Jones' evil in their time, hastily volunteered to hold down the fort while the girls negotiated. Under normal circumstances the authoress would have taunted them into oblivion, but this time she and the others remained silent. Something felt…odd, as if there was some other dark presence besides Jones lurking about. It made everyone uneasy – or at least, more uneasy – and made for a very tense boarding of the Dutchman. The Elf took the chance to mentally beat herself up for ever being stupid enough to give her muse that pendant. If she hadn't, she and her friends would be home, safe and sound and probably making up a story about such events as these from the comfort of their computer desks. The cold irony of the realization that, if things were different, they would all be eager to be having such adventures made for a grim expedition.
With terror and curiosity burning in their souls, the six teens stepped onto the deck of the Flying Dutchman. A few crewmembers were peering at them from the other side of the boat, but none had drawn swords. Inwë, suddenly bold, straightened from her cowering and looked around.
"We come to speak with Davy Jones! We have a proposition for him," she called. The dull thud of wood on wood answered her, and she flinched. None other than the cruel captain of the Dutchman, Jones himself, rounded the corner and stood opposite them. He eyed them with something like disgust or mockery in his expression, but his tone was perfectly polite when he spoke.
"You must be very desperate if you dare seek an audience with me-ah. What is the nature o' this bargain you wish to strike?" he demanded in his cold voice. Inwë shuddered and opened her mouth to answer when she stopped, eyes wide. Her friends too stiffened and stared aghast at the figure that had just walked up next to Jones. He had long silver hair and green cat-like eyes full of darkness, and was dressed in dark grey and black with a dark grey coat. A long samurai sword was sheathed at his side. At the sight of the teens' horrified faces, he smiled very slightly.
"It's not possible!" Shaedan stammered.
"Not probable," Aki reminded her in a low voice. Amaya and Inwë were too shocked for words. They just stared at this evil apparition with expressions of mingled terror, disbelief, and fury.
"Is that…Sephiroth?" Inwë whispered at length. Amaya didn't answer, but she suddenly looked enraged.
"You murderer!" she snarled at the man, and tried to lunge at him. Aki and Inwë held her back to the best of their ability. Sephiroth made no comment, but the smile faded. Still surprised, Sakura and Shaedan glanced between Jones and the new villain.
"Is he working for you?" Shaedan asked Jones incredulously. Jones frowned sourly.
"No-ah." Inwë let Shaedan take over holding Amaya back and whirled to face Sephiroth.
"What is it that you want? I know Beckett has no knowledge of you, or did not until you appeared, so how came you to be here?" she said in a strained voice. It sounded like she was trying not to growl at him. Sephiroth smiled again faintly.
"I owe my presence here to you, Inwë." The Elf winced as he used her name but chose to ignore it.
"And how do you know that?" she continued airily.
"The dark magic that possesses your authoress powers summoned me here."
"I'm going to kill that vulture," Inwë vowed sullenly. She glared at her newest enemy and crossed her arms.
"What's your purpose in the Caribbean?" Sephiroth's smile broadened, just a little.
"Vengeance."
"Against whom?" Amaya snapped angrily. The creature's gaze shifted and locked on her.
"Against a lot of people. But especially Cloud." Inwë's jaw dropped as it dawned on her that her powers as authoress covered not only Pirates of the Caribbean, but also all fiction.
"Let me guess," she murmured at last, "Beckett's agreed to let you kill Cloud – and anyone else you feel like killing – if you'll help him get my powers back from that damned vulture, is that it?" Sephiroth glanced back at her quickly.
"Very good. You're finally catching on." The Elf scowled. She remained silent for several seconds, waiting for a good comeback to strike her fancy, but no inspiration came. Somewhat dejected, but still convinced she could get out of the situation, she turned sharply and glared at Jones.
"May I speak to you? Alone?" she added with a sidelong glance at Sephiroth. Of the two, she was far more comfortable talking to Jones by herself. At least he wasn't known for being the most fearsome villain ever to walk the earth of video games. Jones squinted at her, obviously unsure of her sanity, and then shrugged, shot Sephiroth and the teenagers a look, and beckoned Inwë to follow him.
"Try not to kill anyone," the authoress muttered to her friends as she walked after the captain. Raven snorted.
In the captain's cabin, Inwë sat opposite Jones, an oak desk between them. The flickering light of lanterns hung on the walls lit the room, and a few maps were piled on the table. The windows were hung with black curtains, hindering all view of the outside world. In a way it was rather cozy. When the two adversaries sat down, there was a long and awkward silence as the two surveyed each other.
"I have a deal to make with you, sir," the Elf said after the staring contest. She inwardly winced at the word "sir". She had refrained from calling an enemy "sir" ever since she had accidentally called the Mouth of Sauron that. He made a point of rubbing it in whenever they crossed paths – and blades – on the authoress's role-playing games. Jones didn't seem to notice her discomfort.
"And I know you realize I am not in a position to strike a bargain, aye?" he replied darkly. Inwë grudgingly nodded.
"What I ask is not much. I only wish for my crew, my ship, and myself to continue our journey unmolested by you or your underlings."
"I cannot agree to that-ah."
"Even if I told you the location of your heart?" Jones stared at her bleakly.
"I know who has my heart. He sent me after you." Inwë again nodded, this time with a soft smile.
"Then we share a common enemy. I take it Sephiroth's presence on this vessel was not your idea?" Jones grunted in the affirmative.
"Then am I right to assume you and he do not see eye-to-eye?" Another grunt. Inwë leaned forward eagerly.
"I can get rid of him. I can get rid of Beckett and drive him out of this dimension. Once I receive my authoress powers, I can change things so that Sephiroth is once more where he belongs and Beckett is back in Port Royal." Jones got up and began pacing. He stopped next to the authoress and leaned forward to talk in her ear. His breath stank of stale rum and rotting fish.
"And then what, Elf? You destroy me after you destroy Beckett? At least he wants to keep me alive," he hissed with a mirthless chuckle. The Elf shrugged.
"I like to mess with canon characters as little as possible before the completion of their series or trilogy. Beckett is the exception, but you are not. If you let us go I promise I won't harm or kill you in any of my future fictions until after Pirates of the Caribbean 3 comes out. After that you may be dead anyways, but in that case you'll have to take it up with Jerry Bruckheimer." The captain stepped back and paced again, taking out his pipe and puffing on it absently as he thought it over. The Elf hardly dared breathe. After a moment he sat down again.
"There is still the problem of Sephiroth. He reports to Beckett, for the time being. Will you strike a bargain with him as well?" Inwë stiffened, her expression cold and rigid.
"I don't make deals with murderers like him." Jones snorted and blew a smoke ring into the air.
"There may come a time when you are forced to-ah."