Finding more than eight hundred pieces of gold proved to be a difficult task. At first, the crew had seemed up to it, but the more they went along, the more hasty they got. No longer did they have mercy with the towns they raided. Wherever they went, it was easier to just get in and get out without dilly-dallying around with negotiations. They burned and raped every town they encountered, all with absolutely no remorse. And yet, it took years to retrieve every last piece.
The years certainly didn't go by quickly. The time took a toll on all of the crew, except for Geneva, who never appeared to age because of her immortality. In reality, she was older than most of the crew, and closer to Barbossa's age if anything. But internally, the years wore her down too.
Although he couldn't feel, Barbossa still drowned himself in an extravagant lifestyle. He always kept his cabin looking nice, and he always had a platter of fresh apples. Geneva knew why he did it. If there was one thing Hector loved, it was his apples. He couldn't bear to not have them around for when he won his life back. He always had to have them, no matter what, just in case. He had to be ready to taste them.
It didn't seem to help him much though. All of the expensive things he surrounded himself with didn't appear to make him feel any satisfaction. He was helplessly numb. He couldn't taste the food he ate. He couldn't feel Geneva's lips when he kissed her. Everything was beyond his reach.
The only thing that he could find any remote delight in was conversation. He often spoke to Geneva, simply because she was always in his company aboard the ship. He kept her close for a different reason, and that was because he trusted her. He called her by her pet name, and she made sure that he was as comfortable as he could be. She only went so far though. She didn't want anything to do with love. She wouldn't have that. He understood that. He slowly began to caress her less and talk to her more. She could be agreeable company for him, and she didn't have to feign enjoyment. She could talk to just about anyone that treated her well, and Barbossa did that much, so the smallest of things began to lighten up again.
In the midst of all this, though, Geneva was still obligated to find the medallion that Bootstrap Bill had sent away. She wasn't sure how she was ever going to find it. She didn't have an imprint on Turner's child, so there was no way she could know where to look. She didn't know who exactly she was looking for either. A child was a rather ambiguous term. A child could be anyone.
But then, something peculiar happened. There came a time after only about two years of searching that the crew suddenly felt something. They all had the same feeling about where a piece of the gold was, and without hesitation, they immediately set sail in that direction. Then, they proceeded to fire upon a merchant ship and raid it, only to find nothing. Frustrated at this apparent wild goose chase, Barbossa ordered the ship to be destroyed.
The odd thing to Geneva, though, was that the crew seemed to have a connection with the coins. Although they couldn't always count on this connection, it was a much easier way to find the medallions, which took a large weight off her shoulders. No longer was she entirely responsible for finding Bootstrap's medallion. If the crew had the ability to sense their locations, that was better than Geneva could hope to accomplish. With this in mind, she could afford to worry less about her fate.
After about eight years, the crew had found every piece of gold except for Bootstrap's. Soon, the weight was back on her shoulders to find the gold again. All she could do was stall. She had no way of knowing where the medallion was, and she had no way to find out. The crew began to get irritable. So, she did the only thing she could think of. She went through all the places that she had gotten out of Turner before they threw him overboard.
She hadn't imprinted on him, simply because she didn't want to imprint on just anybody. Imprinting too much could really cause problems for her, and it wasn't a connection that was easily thrown away. Besides, she was glad that she hadn't imprinted on Turner, simply because of what the crew had done to him. The man was undoubtedly suffering horribly, unable to die.
So, the Pearl sailed to wherever she pointed toward. These missions not fruitful, and the more failure they came upon, the less the crew trusted Geneva. She was running out of ideas quickly. She couldn't just make up places to go to anymore. But she wasn't sure what she could do.
Then, almost as if right on queue, the crew sensed Bootstrap's medallion. The winds changed direction immediately, catching the Pearl's sails. Without hesitation, they set sail off in the direction they felt called to, and Geneva was relieved. By nightfall the same day, they had arrived just outside of a small English port in the Caribbean. Then, in the dark cloak of the night, without any warning, they fired upon the town. That was the first part of the plan: put the local militia in absolute shock. It always worked. Then, when the militia was sufficiently occupied and waning, Barbossa sent the half of the crew to retrieve the final coin, while the rest stayed behind and continued the ocean siege.
Geneva stayed aboard the ship, watching from the quarterdeck as the port went up in smoke. The local militia stood no chance against the Black Pearl. Within the hour, the port's defenses had been utterly defeated. The rest of the crew came back quickly, but they brought someone back with them.
As Geneva walked closer to the rail of the quarterdeck, she could hear Bo'sun, Barbossa's first mate, immediately object to taking a prisoner. They never had before, so why would they now?
"But she invoked the right of parlay with Cap'n Barbossa!" claimed Pintel, who was holding the prisoner in place. It was very young-looking woman, no older than her early twenties, wearing a dainty, upper-class nightgown. Geneva stood at the top of the stairs as Barbossa went down before her to see what the ruckus was about.
Just as soon as Pintel had defended himself, the young woman stepped forward in order to explain herself, but before she even had a chance, Bo'sun slapped her across the face.
"You will speak when spoken to," he said, looking straight down at the girl. Geneva squinted and began to make her way down to the main deck, but Barbossa had already grabbed Bo'sun's arm.
"And ye'll not lay a hand on those under the protection of parlay," the captain corrected, and Bo'sun responded with a gruff "aye, sir" before yanking his arm away in disgust. Geneva came up to Barbossa's side, watching everything from under the veil of the brim of her hat, and Barbossa turned to the young lady in her nightgown, smiling coyly.
"My apologies, miss," he said smoothly, but the girl's face was hard and determined. She wanted to negotiate for herself, but in a man's world, it would not be as easy as she thought.
"Captain Barbossa," she said, and her accent was precise and clear, definitely high-class. "I am here to negotiate a succession of hostilities against Port Royal."
Barbossa smiled and chuckled. "There were a lot of long words there, miss; we're not but humble pirates."—then, with mild amusement, he added—"What is it that you want?"
"I want you to leave and never come back," she snarled forcefully, but her seriousness was but a joke to the crew, and they sniggered at her.
"I'm disinclined to acquiesce your request," replied Barbossa, and when she gave him a confused look, he added, mockingly, "Means no."
Amidst the chuckles of the crew behind her, the girl held up well, and pushed forward. "Very well," she said, pulling at a necklace chain around her neck and walking over to the railing, the crew yelping in protest of what she was about to do. She held the chain over the edge, the last medallion hanging on the end.
"I'll drop it," she threatened, and the crew stared at her. Barbossa looked at the girl, and then about at his crew.
"Me holds are burstin' with swag!" he said with mock surprise. "That bit of shine matters to us? Why?"
The girl was visibly shocked. "That's what you've been searching for," she exclaimed softly, confused. "I recognize the ship! I saw it eight years ago on the crossing from England!"
"Did ya' now?" Barbossa asked her, and the girl took a breath to compose herself. Geneva smiled under her hat.
"Fine," the girl went on. "Well, I suppose if it is worthless, then there's no point in me keeping it." Cleverly, she released part of the chain so that the medallion fell a few inches, and the crew jumped in protest, including the captain.
The girl's face lit up with a smile of triumph, for she was finally in the catbird seat. Geneva let out a small chuckle. This girl was smart.
Barbossa let out a similar amused chuckle to regain his status, and sauntered leisurely over to the girl. "You have a name, missy?" he asked, and Geneva's smile disappeared.
The girl hesitated nervously. "Elizabeth... Turner," she finally said, and the air changed, although she had no idea what she had just sentenced herself to. "I'm a maid in the governor's household." By that time, nobody was listening anymore. Barbossa turned from her and faced Geneva and Bo'sun, addressing the crew, a large, knowing smile on his face.
"Miss Turner," he repeated, and the surname circulated throughout the whole crew, devilish smiles appearing on their faces.
"And how does a maid come to own a trinket such as that?" Barbossa pried, turning around to address Elizabeth again. "Family heirloom, perhaps?"
"I didn't steal it, if that's what you mean," Elizabeth replied cautiously. Barbossa nodded.
"Very well," he said, putting his hand out towards her. "You hand it over, we'll put your town to our rudder, and ne'er return." Slowly, Elizabeth brought her own pampered hand up and dropped the medallion into Barbossa's. Then, he handed Jack the necklace for safekeeping, not uttering another word. Then, he turned from her, and Elizabeth's face lit up expectantly.
"Our bargain?" she inquired after him, and Barbossa only nodded to Bo'sun, not looking back at her. Bo'sun turned to the crew.
"Still the guns and stow 'em," he ordered, and the crew went about their business, leaving Elizabeth standing there. "Signal the men, set the flags, and make good to clear port." Elizabeth looked around wildly. Geneva only watched her, a smile in her eyes. She had no clue who she had made a deal with.
"Wait!" called Elizabeth, rushing after Barbossa, and Geneva only smirked, slowly following to catch up to Barbossa. "You have to take me ashore!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "According to the code of the Order of the Brethren—!"
"First!" Barbossa snapped, turning sharply to face her. "Your return to shore was not part of our negotiation nor our agreements, so I must do nothin'. Secondly, you must be a pirate for the pirate's code to apply, and you're not, and thirdly,"—he paused to offer a sly, triumphant smile to her shocked expression—"the code is more of what you'd call a guideline, instead of actual rules. Welcome aboard the Black Pearl, Miss Turner."
Before she could protest, Pintel and Ragetti had grabbed her by the arms and were leading her off for safekeeping, and Barbossa continued up the stairs to the quarterdeck. Geneva shook her head and grinned, and then made her way for the quarterdeck stairs herself. Once she'd reached the top, she eyed Barbossa and leisurely made her way over to his side, looking out over the ship.
"I certainly hope you were more honest in your dealings with me," she said, her voice flowing like honey. Barbossa looked at her and chuckled.
"You've got eyes that can see right through my tricks," he said, and Geneva smiled, the wind catching her hair.
A few minutes later, Barbossa called for Pintel and Ragetti, and they came up to the quarterdeck. Barbossa walked over to meet them, leaving Geneva by the wheel.
"I'll be dining with Miss Turner tonight," he said to them with a voice tickled in amusement. "So, make ready the food and go find that red Spanish dress. Tell her that I request that she wears it, and, if she's so disinclined to acquiesce to my request, tell her she'll dine with the crew, wearing nothing at all." The men laughed amongst themselves, but there was no smile on Geneva's face. She turned from them and went down the steps to the main deck to lean against the railing and watch the waves.
The crew went about their business, and then, Barbossa came down the quarterdeck stairs to go have his dinner. Geneva paid him no attention, and neither did he to her. After all, he had a fancy dinner to go to.
The night was beginning to clear. The crew was going in and out of their skeletal forms as they worked. Geneva only looked out at the waves, thinking of nothing in particular.
Suddenly, the cabin doors burst open, and Geneva whirled around to see a very terrified Elizabeth. She took one look at the crew of bones before her and let out a bloodcurdling scream, but she was swept along into the mass of them against her will. Some of the crew chased her about the deck, trying to terrorize her, and Geneva narrowed her eyes, unamused. Elizabeth fled up and down the ship, running into Geneva along the way and briefly making eye contact with seemingly the only normal human being aboard the ship, before continuing to flee from her pursuers. Finally, she tried to run back into the cabin, but Barbossa caught her and forced her back out to the deck.
"Look!" he ordered her, and she did, shaking. "The moonlight shows us for what we really are! We are not among the living, and so, we cannot die. But neither are we dead!" Elizabeth couldn't speak. She couldn't even scream.
"For too long I've been parched of thirst and unable to quench it!" Barbossa said, whipping her around to face him, and she tried to back away. "Too long I've been starvin' to death and haven't died. I feel nothin'. Not the wind on my face nor the spray of the sea, nor the warmth of a woman's flesh." He reached out towards her, and the skin on his hand and arm corroded away to nothing but bones and rags, and she recoiled. Barbossa continued to walk towards her and into the moonlight, transforming right before her eyes.
"You'd best start believing in ghost stories, Miss Turner," he said, a wicked look in his unblinking eyes. "You're in one." Elizabeth's face was filled with terror and disbelief up to the brim. Barbossa pulled out a bottle of wine, pulled the cork off with his teeth, and proceeded to down it, but it splashed down through his ribs and stained his ragged clothing, falling to the floor. Unable to withstand the horror before her, Elizabeth let out a startled gasp and dashed back into the cabin, and Barbossa turned and smashed the wine bottle against the door in a frustrated rage, slamming the doors behind her. Then, he turned around and let out a hearty laugh, which the crew echoed, all except for Geneva, whose eyes were narrowed unpleasantly.
Then, suddenly, the captain snapped at them. "What are you lookin' at? Get back to work!" Like cockroaches, the crew scattered, Geneva along with them. She pushed past Barbossa and opened the doors behind him, following where Elizabeth went.
The cabin was dark and quiet, and Geneva entered noiselessly. In the very back of the room by the windows, she could see Elizabeth cowering in the corner. Undoubtedly, Barbossa had already told her of her role in breaking the curse. Not only was she terrified of that, but she was terrified of the entire crew even more so than she had started out.
Geneva walked around the large dining table, still covered with uneaten food, prepared nicely. Almost all the candles had gone out, except for a sparse few.
By the time Elizabeth finally heard Geneva approaching, she was only a couple yards away.
"Stay back!" Elizabeth exclaimed softly, severely scant of bravery, but still quite determined. Geneva stopped about five feet from her and shook her head, taking off her hat so that she was more recognizable. When Elizabeth laid eyes on her face, her eyes widened in shock.
"You're the boy who wasn't a skeleton!" she said, a bit louder. Geneva nodded slowly.
"Partially correct, but close enough," Geneva replied, not bothering to make her voice sound male. Elizabeth cocked her head as she processed what she had just heard.
"You're a... woman?" Elizabeth asked, studying Geneva's face in the dim candlelight. Geneva's lips curled into a small smile.
"That would be true," the sea lioness responded, and Elizabeth sat there dumbfounded for a moment.
"Do they know that?" she asked, and Geneva let out a huff of amusement.
"Oh, yes," she replied. She was starting to get a bit bored.
"But you're not cursed?" Elizabeth asked. Geneva shook her head and sighed.
"Look, I'm not up for too many questions right now," she said, ignoring Elizabeth's curiosity. "I came in here to tell you that they only need a little bit of your blood. Whether they decide to kill you or not all depends on your actions. If you try something funny, I'll be the one dealing with you, and that's not a very promising fate for you."
Elizabeth didn't say anything, partially because she didn't know how to react. But Geneva wasn't done speaking her mind.
"By the way, you look nothing like your father," Geneva said, studying Elizabeth's face with smiling eyes.
"What?" Elizabeth asked, confused.
"And you're much too pampered to be a simple maid," Geneva went on, ignoring Elizabeth's confusion. "Did your mother remarry when your father became a pirate?"
When Elizabeth said nothing, Geneva narrowed her eyes in suspicion. Something wasn't right, but she couldn't put her finger on it just yet.
"Well," Geneva said, slipping a smile back on her face. "Don't make things difficult, or I'll have to take care of you, and it won't be particularly nice." She was about to turn and leave, but Elizabeth spoke.
"Why are you here?" she asked suddenly, and with an invasive tone.
"What does it matter to you, Miss Turner?" Geneva replied. "When they're done with you, you'll be on own, wherever we choose to drop you off, and then it won't make any difference who I am or why I'm here."
"You'll take me back to Port Royal!" Elizabeth protested, and Geneva put on a thoughtful look.
"If I remember correctly, the captain promised to never return to Port Royal, didn't he?" she said, and Elizabeth stood up in protest.
"Your captain tricked me!" Elizabeth stammered angrily, and Geneva looked at her with no pity.
"No," Geneva said calmly, her voice fluid as a running river. "You weren't specific. You weren't thinking. I can predict with utter certainty that you've never made real negotiations before. Your vocabulary is astounding, but your understanding of this world is limited."
"Your understanding is limited," Elizabeth countered firmly, glaring. "The entire Royal Navy is bound to be looking for me now. And when they find me, you'll be sorry you ever kidnapped me!"
"The entire Royal Navy?" Geneva laughed, narrowing her eyes. "Well, that certainly bears the potential of being interesting. Tell me; are they at least halfway decent at swordplay? It would be quite unfortunate if they weren't."
"Of course they are!" Elizabeth retorted, as if that question was a given. "They're the most highly trained in the Caribbean!"
"Good," Geneva chuckled, a real smile on her face. "At least they won't bore me to death. I'll hold you to that, you know."
"You?" Elizabeth asked in disbelief. "They'll tear you apart easily. They'll tear all of you apart!"
Geneva shook her head, smiling rather blackly, impatience rising in her throat. She wouldn't let it come out though, and she kept her mask of decency on.
"Let me tell you something before you drown in your own ignorance," Geneva said, her voice soft and powerful. "Your Royal Navy had better start praying if they hope to stand a chance against this crew.
"As for me, if any of them had a head on their shoulders, they wouldn't dare to challenge me in the first place. Smart men don't stand in my presence; they kneel. Powerful men entertain me. All others, I cut down. And if you get in my way, I won't hesitate with you either. I'm a sea lioness. I don't have an interest in you, so you'd do well for yourself to make sure that I never do."
Elizabeth was reduced to a stunned silence. Geneva put her hat back on, and looked Elizabeth up and down as she turned to leave.
"And by the way," she added. "That dress you're wearing—that's mine. But don't worry; I always hated it. So you can wear it. In fact, you can keep it if you'd like."
And with that, Geneva turned and left, leaving Elizabeth in the silent darkness of the cabin.