Chapter XVI

Release and Rivalry

Bree and Jones remained together in the cabin until early dawn, never speaking a word to eachother. Bree at last left the cabin, her cheeks pink and her limbs shaky. She didn't look back as the door closed softly behind her. She stumbled down the stairs to the hold, making her way to her hammock. No one would ever know…ever.

Bree didn't know the feelings that were whirling around in her mind now. Her body was numb, but on fire as well. Aye, nothing had happened between the girl and her captain except for a soft kiss, but still, that was enough to fan the blaze.

Jones hadn't moved since the girl had left. He looked down at the floor, feeling a dull thrumming in his ears. He shut his eyes, almost not daring to believe that it had all happened. Bree had kissed him. She had willingly gone into his embrace!

She loves me!

Bootstrap woke from his half slumber, turning over in his hammock to face Bree. She was curled up, hugging her knees to her chest and biting on her pant leg as dried tears crusted her cheeks.

Concerned and alarmed, Bootstrap raised his head, calling softly, "Bree…mate, what's wrong?"

Bree's reddened eyes shot over to meet his, alarm spreading through her face, "N-nothin'! Lemme alone!" She curled up tighter, as if she was trying to hide.

Bootstrap rose, going to Bree's side. He forcibly uncurled her, pulling her into a sitting position. Bree had tears running fresh down her cheeks. She was sobbing silently, and Bootstrap felt a stab of pity for her. What was troubling her so?

Bootstrap pressed a hand to Bree's cheek, "Mate, what's gotten into ye? Ye've never broken down like this!"

Bree pushed his hand away, still sobbing. She wished that she could confide in him, but no one should know! No one!

Bootstrap stepped back, knowing it was no good. Bree was inconsolable. But he didn't understand why. Had something happened? "Well…I wish ye'd tell me what's wrong."

Bree shook her head, slipping out of her hammock. The crew was waking now, and Bree knew that she would have no privacy. She didn't want to deal with the smirks and looks now. They may have warmed up to her, but they still looked at her strangely when she cried.

Bree climbed up the stairs to the deck, praying inwardly.

Please don't let Jones be out here!

But Bree stopped short, her heart dropping. He stood by the door of his cabin, and he saw her. His gaze was riveted to her, and Bree could see pain clouding the pale blue depths. Bree wanted to cry out, to do anything.

Why did ye let yerself fall in love?

Bree felt the tears falling down her cheeks as she looked at Jones. Her captain. The man she loved. And the man she could never be with.

Placing a hand over her mouth, Bree forced her legs to move. She felt physically ill. Longing made her heart burn. The knowledge that she would soon be apart from Jones made her head spin with sorrow.

But I don't belong here! she cried out to herself.

Bree stumbled to the side, slipping over to land on the bowsprit. Jones had to know that she loved him. She loved him so that it made her entire body burn with aching.

Bree remembered the pain of the chain lashing across her back. She thought no pain could compare to that. She was wrong.

She was suffering from the pangs of love.

Jones watched as Bree slipped over the side. He could sense her agony. He felt it as well. The thought of her being away from him was making the old wound where his heart should have been ache abominably, but there was nothing else to do. Bree didn't belong with him.

Being parted from Bree would be as painful as losing his first love. But Jones knew that Bree loved him. That dulled the pain, but not the longing.

Jones stood beside the door to his cabin, staring down at the deck. He wished with all his being that he could find a way to be with Bree. He would do anything. He loved the girl! He loved her so much that it hurt him! Aye, he had loved his lady of long ago, but Bree…Bree was different.

Bree was a warrior, a tough, feisty young girl, someone who could fight and stand up for herself and her friends. Jones admired and respected her. And now he loved her. He wanted to be with her for eternity. He was already trapped in the prison of this monstrous form he had taken on, and he was also trapped on the Dutchman. Bree's love for him touched him. And he was certain she loved him. What girl would enter the embrace of a monster? Answer the kisses and caresses of a frightening form of a man? Return the love of the dreaded sea himself?

Only a girl who loved him.

Jones sighed brokenly. Bree wasn't fated to be with him. He could never have her. But what truly broke his heart, wherever it was, was the fact that Bree would also suffer. She would be in emotional pain. Jones didn't want her to hurt. Right now he had to resist an urge to call her to him and take her into his embrace again. But that would only make matters worse. And their love had to remain a secret. Forever.

Jones leaned against the door post, crossing his arms over his chest. He still felt the warmth in his skin from having Bree's body pressed to his. He had felt overwhelming desire flood through him. But what delighted Jones was the fact that there were no lewd thoughts in his mind. He didn't want Bree for her physical charms. He wanted her for who she was, and what she meant to him. He wanted her for her.

Jones looked out over the waves. They would soon be coming up on the Black Pearl. Jones felt a small spark of potential jealously light. What if Sparrow tried to made unwanted advances on Bree? Jones now knew that Bree wouldn't allow Sparrow to do this, but…hadn't Jones been hurt before? No! Bree wouldn't do something like that! She was so loyal, sweet and caring.

Jones smiled softly. Even if he had to let her go, Bree was his, and no other's.

Bree was curled up on the bowsprit, her leg swinging out over the water and her cheek pressed against the long, jutting sprit. She shut her eyes, tears still dripping from her cheeks to fall below an mingle in the spray of the sea.

The Flying Dutchman is my home now!

She didn't belong here. She had never really belonged. But now…she wished she did. For him.

Opening her eyes, Bree sucked in her breath, not realizing that at the same moment, Davy Jones was sucking in his own breath.

On the horizon was a sail.

A black sail.

Bree sat in the hold, hugging her knees to her chest. Tears still set a course down her cheeks. Bootstrap sat next to her. He had seldom left her side, still concerned for her.

Bree was able to hide the reason for her sadness with an excuse. The entire crew now knew of Bree's impending freedom. They all expected her to be gleeful and lighthearted, knowing she would soon be free. But her tears confused them all.

When confronted once again by Bootstrap, Bree answered, "I…I don't want to leave ye on this floatin' prison!"

Bootstrap put his arm around her shoulders, hugging her close. Somehow he thought that this was a lie. But only partially.

And he was right. Bree wouldn't want to leave Bootstrap here. She loved him as a father figure, and would miss him. But her heart was breaking inside her. Separation from Jones was imminent, but necessary. And painful.

Jones stood at the prow, watching the Pearl. She had seen the pursuer and was setting full sail. He looked over his shoulder at Quittance, "Go get a strip o' white cloth."

Quittance nodded, disappearing into the hold. He reappeared with a tattered rag clutched in his claw. He handed it to his captain, who examined it. Something didn't seem right…

"Where did ye get this?"

Quittance was somewhat surprised that he would ask, but he answered, "In Miss Bree's hammock."

Jones tensed his jaw and turned the cloth over. There was dried blood stained into the fabric. Bree's blood. From the many floggings Jones had inflicted on her.

Jones looked up, handing it back to Quittance, "Flag o' truce."

Quittance nodded, still confused, but he turned to do his captain's orders.

Soon, the tattered strip of bloodstained cloth was flying at the mast. Jones barely took his eyes off of it. Then his gaze swung to the Pearl.

Jack looked across at the Dutchman. He saw the small strip of white cloth flapping like a trapped bird. Jones wanted to parley.

Gibbs looked in the same direction, "Well, Cap'n? Orders?"

Jack glanced at Gibbs, then back at the Dutchman. "We'll listen to what they have to say."

Will stood beside Jack, "Is that wise? Won't Jones try anything?"

Jack sighed, "He's already got Bree, mate."

Will tilted his head, confused, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Jack looked at Will as if he were daft, but left it alone. He spoke again, "Davy Jones didn't start out as a pirate, mate. He was an honest man, as hard as that is t' think. But 'e keeps his promises an' doesn't lie or break codes."

Will looked skeptical, but normally Jack's instincts led him correctly.

As the Dutchman neared the Pearl, Jack tensed. He fondled the hilt of his sword, a nervous tick he had, the only sign of his unease. Will gripped the railing tightly. They had failed Bree. What was Jones doing now? Rubbing it in their faces?

The two ships came side to side, and Will looked to Jack. Jack was watching Jones, but then Will saw his eyes start scanning the ship. He was looking for Bree. Where was she?

Bootstrap took Bree's hand in his, squeezing affectionately. He had to blink back tears as he spoke in a soft whisper, "C'mon, lass. Jack's come for ye."

Bree looked up at her friend, tears standing in her eyes. She wished she could tell him…but no.

As Bree let Bootstrap lead her out of the hold, she had to pass by the crew. Two of her mates stood, blocking their way. Jimmylegs strode over to Bree. He put his claw on her shoulder, speaking in a gruff voice, "Good luck, missy."

Bree swallowed, feeling a jolt of affection. She never thought she could feel attached to these monsters. But she was one of them! They were her mates!

Bree took the bosun's hand in her own, shaking it and nodding. Then, one by one, the crew filed past, saying their goodbyes. Penrod actually had slimy tears in his eyes as he said goodbye. One or two of the crew gave Bree a small hug, and one gave her a dagger as a parting gift.

Bree felt it all hit her hard. She would never sit in the circle with her mates, playing Liar's Dice, or share a bottle of grog or rum with one of them, or join in a chantey. The camaraderie had been hidden from her, and now she appreciated it…only to have it end.

Bree at last left the hold, the crew following her. Bootstrap still had his hand on her shoulder as she ascended the stairs. As she came up, her eyes met Jones'. Tears formed a bubble in her throat as she looked at him. She went faint with emotion. She knew that after this, she would never see him again.

Bree turned to Bootstrap, embracing him. Tears flowed down her cheeks to wet his shoulder as she spoke in a broken voice, "Thank ye, mate. I'll never forget ye."

Bootstrap kissed Bree's cheek, brushing some loose strands of hair from her forehead as he answered, "An' I'll never forget ye, Bree. None of us will. Ye brought us hope. Somethin' we all needed."

Bree nodded, sniffing. She would never have survived her ordeal on the Dutchman without Bootstrap. She stepped back, and turned back to look across at the Pearl.

Jones watched Bree, never taking his eyes from her. When she turned to look at him, he felt the hole in his chest burning. Why? Why did it have to be her?

Jones slowly limped his way over to the girl, hesitantly reaching out and placing a hand on her shoulder. Fire shot up his arm, and he felt her flinch. He swallowed and then spoke, "Well, missy…I'll take ye aboard."

Bree shut her eyes, nodding. When she reopened her eyes, she was onboard the Pearl. The crew all stepped back, alarmed as Jones let go of Bree and stepped forward to confront Jack. Jack still had his hand on his sword but stayed calm.

"Captain Sparrow," Jones said, some slight scorn in his voice. Jack cleared his throat, answering, "Glad ye've finally gotten that."

Jones looked to Bree, then back to Jack, "I'm here to return the girl." Bree felt tears sting her eyes at the way he said those words. They sounded so…pained. At least to her.

Jack and the others looked surprised. Jack recovered quickly, "Oh…well, that's nice of ye." He looked to Bree, winking at her, "We'll be glad to have ye back!"

Bree forced a smile. She tried not to look like she felt.

Jones turned to Bree, remarking to the others, "I just have to release her."

Will looked out at Bree. Something wasn't right. He whispered to Jack, "I think we should step back for a moment."

Jack, taking this advice, made a signal for the others to draw away.

Bree bowed her head, the tears finally spilling over. Maybe they'll think they're happy tears! she thought.

Jones looked down at the deck for inspiration, then said, "I'm goin' to return yer soul to ye. An'…an' some other things." Bree felt a twinge in her heart.

The crew of the Black Pearl watched in fascination. None dared to say anything. Even Cotton's parrot stayed silent.

Bree stood straight and tall, tears still sliding down her cheeks but her eyes like stone. Jones moved slowly towards her, removing the medallion from its concealed hiding place. He circled around Bree, and gently stroked the hair from her shoulders, moving the chain around her neck and securing the clasp as best he could, his single hand unable to do so very well. But somehow he accomplished it. He then stroked Bree's hair back again and moved away.

Bree felt the medallion. It was warm, warm and slightly tarnished. She turned to face Jones, tears falling from her eyes. She didn't know what to say. She simply bowed her head, letting the tears spatter onto the deck. She looked to Jack and Will. They couldn't understand what she was feeling. She had a certain connection. But they would never know what it felt like. She held out her hand, and Jones clasped it, holding on tightly, so tight it hurt Bree's fingers, but she held on just as tightly.

Jones' eyes were unreadable. He spoke in a thick voice, "Miss Bree…I release ye from yer debt."

Bree could only nod, and gently disentangled her hand from Jones', finding it almost difficult.

Bree stepped back, clenching her fists. She watched as Jones reached into his coat, pulling out the small music box.

Jones held the music box in his hand, fondling it and looking at it tenderly. He still loved it. Was this the only way to show Bree that…he cared for her? Without showing others?

Jones reached out and took Bree's hand in his. He placed the small box in her palm, closing her fingers over it and holding onto her again. His eyes were soft as he looked at her, memories and pain all blending into one. Bree was his escape.

Jones took in the sight of Bree to lock away in his memory. He knew he would most likely never see her again. His Bree. His beautiful pirate maiden…

Jones had just now noticed how blue her eyes were. Even though she had been with the crew of the Dutchman long enough to begin transformation, her eyes had never lost their color to turn into that pale, sickly blue that all the crewmembers had. They were still so deep, so bright, so beautiful! Jones had to resist the urge and desire to touch her face again. Was she in as much pain as he was?

Bree felt her tears spilling over her cheeks. She wanted to say something, to tell him how she felt, to throw her arms around him, to show him…to show him how she felt for him. But she couldn't. No one would ever know. No one.

Jones' eyes were stormy. He could see his feelings reflected in Bree's eyes. They both knew.

Bree, too overcome with emotion, could only mouth the word, "Goodbye."

Jones gave her a faint smile. He moved forward, only to halt and step back again, his lips twitching as if he wanted to say something. But he never did. He turned, going to the rail and disappearing, back to the Dutchman.

Bree stood silent for a long time, clutching onto the music box. After summoning up her strength, she turned to the others. She gave a small smile, her eyes unreadable, "It's done, mates."

But her happiness wasn't genuine. She was glad to be on the Pearl, glad to be a human again and glad to be with her friends again but she would never be the same.

She had lost part of herself.

Bree sat in Jack's cabin, her eyes gazing off at nothing. A knock came at the door. Bree shook off her daze, calling out, "C'min."

Jack inched the door open, then entered, going over to the girl. He put his hand on her shoulder, "Ye all right, mate?"

Bree nodded, trying to sound cheerful, "Aye, I'm fine. By the way, where are we goin'?"

Jack sat down, answering, "Goin' to see Tia Dalma. There's still the matter o' the heart."

Jack saw Bree tense, and when she relaxed he could tell it was forced. She spoke, "Aye, that's right. How can she help us?"

Jack shrugged, "We'll find out when we get there."

Bree nodded, rising and going to the door, "I'll be out…here…if ye need me."

Jack inclined his head, realizing how strange Bree was acting. She seemed so distant. Ah, well. Maybe the shock of being freed. Jack waved his hand, "Don't worry 'bout a thing, mate. Just relax. Ye need rest."

Bree smiled weakly, closing the door behind her. She headed for the bow, looking out over the waves.

Elizabeth, who had been absent during Bree's return, staying down in the hold for her own safety, now came to join her. She hugged her friend, saying, "It's good to see you, Bree. Glad to be free?"

Elizabeth felt Bree's shoulders go rigid, but she answered, "Aye, mate. Thankee. An' good to see ye as well!" She returned her hug, giving a show of smiling. Elizabeth could detect the sorrow in the bottomless depths of Bree's blue eyes. She had noticed that when Bree was angry, a sort of red mist clouded that beautiful blue color, and now there seemed to be a mist that darkened her eyes. Elizabeth, concerned, asked, "What's wrong, Bree?"

Bree stiffened, "Nothin'! I'm just…just tired…" She sounded rather prickly.

Elizabeth sensed the defensive tone in Bree's choked voice. Something was troubling her. But she left it alone. Bree obviously had something troubling her, but she must think she had to work it out alone.

Elizabeth stayed by Bree's side until the girl had calmed somewhat. Then she went to join Will.

Bree sighed. She didn't want her friends to think she wasn't grateful. But…she just didn't see how life could be so cruel! Why, of everyone on this good earth, do I love the one man I can never be with?

Bree sat in the longboat, pulling at the oar on the right side. Pintel sat next to her, pulling as well. Bree had insisted she help row, as the work would take her mind off of the gnawing thoughts eating at her mind.

Fog covered the swamp as they neared Tia Dalma's shack. Bree looked over her shoulder at it. It was built up in the intertwined branches of a large tree. Bree marveled at the sight. Candlelight flickered from the slanting windows and the house timbers swayed and creaked like a ship, almost.

The longboat pulled up to the shack and Bree pulled in her oar. Jack tied the boat to a post and stepped out of it onto the small patio below the ladder to the house. He turned, "Short visit, mates."

Bree stepped out of the boat, skillfully moving without rocking it as the others came out after her. One by one they all climbed the small ladder and entered the house.

Bree was amazed. It was like walking into a pawn shop from another world. Bottles and jars hung from the ceiling, filled with grisly objects. Small trinkets were scattered about the room, and Bree could see two stuffed bats hung on the wall. She felt something brush against her arm, and she turned, seeing a large yellow snake. She flinched, moving to the side.

Jack cleared his throat. A woman who was sitting hunched at a table in the center of the room raised her head, her reddened eyes assessing the newcomers. Then she smiled, revealing teeth blackened by some sort of plant dye.

Bree instantly tensed when she saw Tia Dalma. She didn't like her. Her hackles rose instinctively and a growl suddenly began rumbling in her throat. Her hand went to the medallion around her neck. The brand on her arm had begun to sting again. She felt…grieved.

Tia seemed to be friendly to everyone. She greeted Jack like an old friend and the others with the same attitude. But when the woman saw Bree, her eyes hardened. She looked at her with almost a hostile glare. Bree returned the look, her fiery eyes never flinching. Both females sensed something in one another. Something they didn't like.

Bree sat down a fair distance away, positioning herself behind Gibbs so he sat between her and Tia. She continued stroking the chain around her neck, the warmth still in her medallion. It comforted her in a way. It hadn't been like this before. First it had been worn by her mother. And then Jones. It was like…a reminder.

Tia talked to the others of matters that didn't concern Bree. Her eyes wandered over the shack. Suddenly, she gave a sharp gasp that alerted everyone. Her eyes were huge and fierce. She rose, walking over to the table and slamming her hand down, scooping something up. She held a locket, the charm heart shaped and engraved with the same design as the design on Davy Jones' music box. Bree knew every detail as well as Jones did. She cradled the necklace in her palm, and then looked up at Tia, "Where did ye get this?"

Tia stared back at her, speaking in a harsh voice, "Why?"

Bree fumbled in her shirt for the pouch, at last pulling it out and revealing the music box. The onlookers immediately saw the similarities.

Tia's dark eyes flashed with sudden anger. She snarled up at Bree, "Where did ya git dat?"

Bree found herself answering, "A friend." Then her voice softened, "A dear…dear friend."

Tia looked a bit offended and maybe…maybe a bit jealous. She reached for the music box, foolishly picking it up, but Bree gave out a roar and lunged forward, grabbing the music box and wrenching it away, snarling, "Don't touch it!"

Tia didn't listen and reached for it again, but Bree actually hit her, saying in a dangerously low voice, "Don't…touch…the box."

Tia was shocked, and looked to the others. Jack hurriedly explained, "Jones gave it to 'er."

Bree felt tears sliding down her cheeks as she growled, "Aye…don't touch it! Don't get near it!"

Will put his hand on Bree's shoulder, gently easing her away and softly forcing her to sit next to Elizabeth. Elizabeth hooked her arms around Bree's shoulders, holding her still. Bree was shaking with rage, but she didn't try to get away.

Tia had a type of pout on her face at this moment, but she soon recovered when Jack sweetly asked her to continue. Once or twice while the witchdoctor talked, she would glance at Bree, shooting her a hate-laden glare. But Bree returned it, completely unafraid.

The others sat in the confined space of the shack, uncomfortable as the tension came off in waves from the two.

The meeting dragged on far too long for everyone, now. Especially for Bree. Anger and resentment made her quiver, and that locket made her heart freeze. She knew that Jones had loved someone before her. But…was it this woman? Bree almost felt her blood simmering at the thought.

At last, the heat grew too much. Tia Dalma looked across at Bree, growing weary of her piercing stare. She stood, thrusting an arm out in a brusque dismissal, "Git 'er out, now!" When Jack looked from one to the other uncertainly, Tia made her demand more clear, "I don' wan' 'er in here! Either she leaves, or I don' tell ya no more!"

Bree stood, her gaze level with Tia's. Her piercing blue eyes bored into Tia's, and the witchdoctor flinched. Bree growled out, "I don't want to have to stay in 'ere any longer 'n I have to!" Turning on her heels, Bree stormed out of the shack, pausing onto the rip down a strand of beads hanging from the ceiling. She looped it in her belt and leaped down the ladder, going to the boat and stepping in, her angry stance causing the boat to rock crazily. Bree sat down, arms crossed, her eyes set hard and her mind in a turmoil.

Bree was surprised when the others followed a short time later. Elizabeth took her place next to Bree, "Are you all right?"

Bree nodded sullenly, her hand fumbling with the fabric of her jerkin. Jack sat down across from Bree, "Sorry 'bout that, mate. Don't know what got into Tia. She normally ain't one to do somethin' like that."

Bree growled, biting back an insulting word. She guessed that Tia and Jack were more than friends. But still…

The boat at last pushed off to row back to the sea and to the Pearl.

Even thought Tia no longer competed for what Bree had gained aboard the Dutchman, Bree had met her rival.