Adult-FanFiction.org : Movies

Loving the Heartless	By : FlameWolf666 Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (All) > Het - Male/Female Views: 5825 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything or anyone from Pirates of the Caribbean. If I did I would have a mansion and 12 cars by now. This is just for fun and I make no profit from this.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
Author’s Note: A plot bunny hatched into this story. Please don’t pelt me with rotten things! Small break from ‘Tainted Love’. Will use this as a means to not burn out on it. Also I will be working on some of the other fics I have up too. Don’t worry.

Loving the Heartless

By: FlameWolf

Chapter One: The Race
    Ancient wood creaked as the bow of a large ship crested over a gentle wave. A huge crew scuttled around the dark wooden deck of the vessel as they strung up some sails and took down others. Salty, cold sea water splashed onto the gnarled wood of the creaking but sturdy deck. Near the back of the ancient ship, on top of a high platform right above the captain’s quarters, stood a wild haired female with her fingerless gloved hands on the large wheel. The wind whipped her long black hair in front of her pale face and she brushed it behind her ear irritably. Her turquoise eyes gleamed in a determined way as she glared down at her bustling crew.
    The stiff, cold wind blew her long, deep red jacket around her legs. She wore a darker red shirt, black pants and a pair of knee-high, black boots with a low heel. A rather old looking, deep emerald green sash was tied around her waist, holding a long, sharp cutlass against her left hip. “Nearly thar me lads! Nearly thar,” she snarled in an encouraging manner, turning her cumbersome vessel slightly to the left. Just over the horizon of the restless sea a small speck got closer at an agonizingly slow rate.
    She had been sailing for months, going on nothing more than rumor and gut instinct. Only a few hours behind her sailed the ‘Black Pearl’, sailing to the same destination as she but with a different purpose. Gritting her teeth, she glared at the slowly growing speck that soon became an island. She had to get there before Jack Sparrow! “Cap’n!” came a gruff, male voice from the deck below her perch.
    “Aye, Joe,” she responded, fixing her steely sea-green gaze on the man below her.
    “Are ye sure ye should be doin’ this fool thing?” shouted the bearded first mate. He had been with this fierce woman since the beginning of her near two decades career. He was the closest thing she had to a best friend and he took the role of her confidante very seriously. As far as Joe knew, the rest of the motley crew felt the same. Their fearless captain had gotten them out of some near impossible jams before, proving again and again that not only was she extremely intelligent but lucky as well. Not one man of her crew had ever been lost, making being a member highly desirable.
    “Aye Joe. I must. I’ll not see him slip any further,” she responded, looking up to see that the island ahead had barely gotten any closer. With a frustrated growl, the pirate female gripped the wooden wheel tightly in white knuckled hands. Would the accursed island never get any closer?! The Pearl was right on her heels, she could almost feel Jack’s hot breath on her neck.
    “Cap’n Flame, he can no longer be saved. Ye know that” Joe called up, not caring if the crew around him heard. Their captain had never hidden anything from them, no matter if the mission would end in their own deaths. She had always believed in full disclosure, giving her crew the option to opt out of missions without consequence.
    “I know but I have to do it,” she responded, wishing her ship could move faster.
    “He’s not the same man ye saw in passing all those years ago,” Joe yelled, running a burly hand through his short, black hair.
    “I know the story Joe! Tis me own life and this is how I choose to end it! Its not as if I wouldn’ta ended up in the Locker soon anyway,” the surly woman snapped, her ebony locks flying into her pale face again.
    Joe looked up at his beloved friend and captain with sorrow in his gray eyes. Not too long ago Flame, the ‘Wolf of the Seven Seas’, had fallen very ill. She had been unable to hold down most foods and was stricken with almost weekly fevers. After much begging and pleading from her crew, the reluctant sea captain had pulled ashore in Tortuga to seek the best doctor. Closing his sad eyes, Joe remembered when she had come back aboard the ‘Full Moon’.
    Her large, black captain’s hat was tilted in such a way that it hid her face from the crew as she slowly came up the gangplank. Something in her posture caused alarm to flow in a wave from the crew that first saw her to the rest of the crew. As she stepped onto the deep brown deck of the ship, she stood in place but didn’t lift her head to look at the crew. “I have the ‘Wasting Disease’,” she murmured quietly before heading to her cabin. A somber sheet of sorrow had remained over the crew for the rest of the day. No one survived the ‘Wasting Disease’.
    Wiping an errant tear from his stubble covered face, the thickly muscled pirate headed away from the stern. In all honesty he would rather her die while she had life in her body. Not lying in a bed too weak to even lift her head as her body slowly wasted away. He and the rest of the crew would make damned sure to get her the last thing she wanted before she left this world.
    After an endless time of sailing, the old ship finally landed on the white sand of a small island. Not even waiting for the gangplank, Flame decided to slide down the anchor chain. Once her feet touched the soft, almost sugar-like sand, she ran off down the left side. Ignoring the cries of the crew still trying to disembark the ship, the determined pirate continued to run even though she was unsure of what she was looking for. All she had to follow was where her heart was telling her to go. Her instincts had never once been wrong and she wasn’t about to doubt them now.
    After a few minutes of running down an expansive beach, Flame found herself at a derelict and dangerous looking shipwreck that just barely poked free of the water. The dark, almost black color of the rotting wood stood in stark contrast to the crystal blue waters that nearly surrounded the wreck. The decay at the bow of the ship almost made it look like the gaping maw of some beached sea monster. Looking at the intimidating looking wreck, the seasoned female just knew the object she sought was resting somewhere within. Probably heavily guarded to boot.
    Not wanting to waste time by waiting for her crew to catch up, the ever impetuous female simply leapt into the water and waded out to the looming wreck. Once she reached the barnacle covered carcass of a ship, she grabbed onto a nearly rotted rope and began to climb.
Surprisingly, the old rope held her weight and she was able to clamber onto the half submerged deck. The soft, rotted boards sinking and squelching beneath her booted feet, the captain headed toward the back part of the ship which was mostly under the water. As she waded knee deep into the icy, briny water and stared down at the submerged captain’s quarters, she found herself wondering exactly how long she could hold her breath for.
    Joe came running up to the black shipwreck, a frantic look in his smoky eyes. To his immense relief, Flame was swimming back to shore with a strange looking urn. The thing was unnaturally shaped, more resembling a piece of ebony coral than a piece of pottery. Sprigs of seaweed seemed to even be growing from the horrible thing and a strange noise could be faintly heard coming from it as she got closer. “Cap’n! Are ye alright!” Joe called through cupped hands, the six crewmen that had kept up with him stopping behind him and panting loudly.
    Flame looked back at the ship one last time, a shudder running through her soaked frame. She had been through an emotional hell that she wouldn’t have wished on her worst enemy but with good reason. The specters guarding this object had wanted to be sure of her intentions before simply handing it over. Hearing Joe’s gruff, concerned voice calling for her, she whipped around and waved once curtly. That was when she felt the water begin to pull backward from her legs. “He’s coming…” she whispered softly, her voice full of awe, fear, hope and another emotion she wasn’t willing to admit to yet.
    Joe and the crewmen behind him watched in horror as the sea itself seemed to pull away from the female captain. “Cap’n! Come ashore quick! Its not too late!” Joe called out to her, panic filling her voice. Although he knew her goal, he found himself reluctant to just leave her to her fate. Without her he had doubts the ragtag band of pirates would even have the will to go on.
    The air going dead still, the bow of an ancient, barnacle covered ship began to rise up from the blue depths. Turning to face the huge ship as it rose from the sea, Flame’s turquoise eyes took in the sight of it. The ship was larger than even her own and it’s black wood sides creaked as it leveled out on the now still ocean. The tattered, almost ghostly looking sails fluttered in a phantom wind and a thick, otherworldly mist surrounded the looming, wooden beast. Cannons bristled on both sides of the almost ethereal behemoth and she caught glimpses of the crew bustling around as the thing turned slowly towards her. “Cap’n! Hurry!” Joe screamed, moving to pull her from the sea if he needed.
    The fiery pirate captain turned to fix her first mate with a harsh glare. “Stay thar Joe. I don’t want to but I won’t hesitate to use me cutlass on ye,” she growled, her sea-green eyes flashing dangerously.
    “There must be a better way Cap’n! He’ll not treat ye with any kindness! You’ll be stuck in a hell I wouldn’t wish on anyone for an eternity!” Joe pleaded, tears beginning to roll down his stubbled cheeks.
    “I know Joe but I have to try. The very balance of the sea depends upon it,” Flame growled out, clenching her fingerless gloved hands into tight fists.
    “G’luck Cap’n! Maybe I’ll see ye on the other side,” he called to her, going pale as he noticed the long boats starting to come towards the shore from the massive ship.
    “I hope not Joe. Where I’m going isn’t meant fer good men like yerself,” she whispered sincerely, turning to face the long-boat that she knew was coming towards her. Clutching the coral-like urn tightly to her chest, Flame hoped against hope that her crew was fleeing. If they weren’t gone by the time the long-boats reached her, then they would surely share her fate.
    The creatures pulling the boat through the waters were varying degrees of hideous. The one on the bow of the ship seemed to have the head of a Great White shark and a deformed, lumpy fin growing out of his back. His black, dead eyes fixed on her with a sneer, his thousands of triangular teeth nearly bursting from his mouth. A man with a moray eel for a head on the right side just behind shark head had his eel twisted around to look at her. The other horrors rowing the ship were too horrible for her to even guess what they were supposed to be and a helpless shudder of horror ran through her frame.
    As they drew closer and she made no move to escape, it became clear that her actions were confusing the shit out of the crew rowing the boat. The shark-head at the front of the boat seemed to almost be looking at her with confusion, commanding his crew to row faster. “Som’thin ain’t right,” she heard him faintly growl in a garbled voice.
    “Oi! Miss Sea Wolf thing! Why don’t ya come ashore here and we can just have a palaver over that there object you hold in your possession,” came a smooth, very familiar baritone voice from behind her.
    Rolling her sea-green eyes, Flame didn’t even turn her head to acknowledge the speaker. “I refuse to acquiesce to your request, Captain Jack Sparrow,” she hissed, spitting out the word ‘captain’ as if it tasted bad. She untied the deep green sash around her waist and wrapped it around the coral-like urn before wading deeper into the water.
    “Hold lass! I beg ye! If ye give him his freedom it’ll be the end of everything!” came the desperate voice from the shore.
    “I’ll not give his life over to the likes of those who would only seek to destroy him,” she hissed, holding the urn above her head as she waded deeper and deeper into the icy waters.
    “Are ye so eager to meet your death lass?” the shark-head growled as the long boat pulled up to her. Then his black eyes went to the old looking, deep emerald sash wrapped around the coral urn. The ebony, soulless orbs narrowed as best they could, his gills flaring slightly as he bent forward to examine the items she held.
    Flame didn’t budge, her sea-green eyes fixed on the shark’s bottomless orbs. “I got the urn with his heart,” she whispered, answering an unspoken question.
    “And where did ye get that sash,” the thing growled, grabbing her by her thin arms and pulling her roughly aboard the long boat.
    “I think, from your reaction, that ye know very well where this came from,” she responded softly, her eyes meeting his without wavering.
    “Give ‘em here,” he snarled, reaching to take the almost alive looking urn.
    “Over me dead body,” she growled in return, her hand going to the hilt of her cutlass.
    “That it will be, soon enough. Keep yer trinkets then. Ye won’t have them fer long,” the thing growled in a clotted voice, lowering its face so it was mere inches from hers. She could smell rotted fish on his breath and recoiled in disgust.
    “I wasn’t plannin’ on it beastie. It matters none to me whether you believe me but I got this urn with the full intent of returning it,” the fiery pirate captain growled through gritted teeth, not taking her eyes off the monster in front of her. An odd garbled, choked croaking noise came from the thing as it rocked back and forth. She realized, with a start, that the aberration was laughing at her.
    “Aye, yer right, I don’t believe ye and neither will he. Pull to the boat boys! He doesn’t like to be kept waitin’,” he bawled out, watching the four creatures at the oars as they began to make their way back to the ship.
    “He’ll be anxious to deal with this one,” the thing croaked in a demented version of a chuckle.
    All too soon the long boat had pulled up next to the ship, another that had just been lowered making its way to shore to chase after Jack. A useless gesture all things considered, the pirate had made tracks as soon as she had made it to the long boat. Heavy, old, oiled ropes were flung down to the boat and the shark-head tied one to the bow. A creature that looked like a twisted hybrid of a sea urchin and a starfish attached the other rope to the stern. The moray eel headed person next to her extended his eel towards her slightly, the beady eyes of the animal examining her closely.
    Once the ropes had been attached the boat lurched suddenly before being heaved up towards the deck. Inhuman grunts of effort greeted her ears as the horrible crew heaved them upward. “Put yer backs into it ye lazy slugs,” came an english accented voice with an odd slur, making shivers run unbidden up and down Flame’s back. As the boat came level with the deck, she was unceremoniously lifted up by the moray eel person and dumped onto the black, rotted smelling deck. The whole ship seemed to reek of the deep seas and rotting flesh of both fish and human. The smell alone was nearly enough to make her vomit what little she had been able to eat for breakfast.
    Desperately trying to keep her precious food down, Flame straightened. In front of her stood Davy Jones himself, in all his horrible glory. Looking a bit like an offspring of Cthulhu, the imposing captain’s tentacle beard curled and twisted as his icy, almost dead eyes stared at what she held in her hands. His whole outfit was encrusted with barnacles and blackened seaweed, his left hand, which had become nothing more than a crab claw, clicked irritably as he limped toward her. The reason for his limp was the fact that his right leg was nothing more than a crab leg and he had to use a rotting, barnacle encrusted stick as a sort of cane. “Where did ye get these?” he asked harshly, an odd popping noise coming from a fleshy valve in his left cheek.
    He reached forward with his right hand, his tentacle index finger reaching out to caress the deep emerald green sash tied around the semi-living urn. His hate filled eyes snapped to her quickly, a frown deepening on his slimy brow. “I retrieved the urn from the black ship yonder,” she explained pointing to the half sunken wreck. A cold wind blew through her soaked clothes, making her shudder helplessly.
    “Aye, I put it thar meself. Now, where did ye get this,” he hissed, his tentacles writhing angrily on his chest as his tentacle finger rubbed the sash.
    “Ye gave it to me a long time ago when ye came ta port fer yer limited furlough,” she answered, her sea-green eyes meeting his unwaveringly. Recognition flashed in his whitish blue eyes for a moment before it was replaced by rage.
    “And I suppose ye’ll be wanting a reward fer the fetchin’ of me heart,” he snarled, withdrawing his hand from the deep emerald silk of the sash.
    “Nay, I merely wanted to return what was yours,” she replied, using her perfect english to get across that she wasn’t some dumb pirate. She had actually taken the trouble to educate herself and only used the pirate vernacular to make it easier on her less educated crew. With a small but sad smile, she offered both the urn and the sash she had tied around it.
    Jones looked down at the twisted, black urn that was wrapped tenderly in the ancient sash before taking it gently into his one human hand. “Do ye fear death?” he hissed quietly, his eyes flashing as he switched the urn to rest under his left arm so he could grip the hilt of his cutlass. The whole crew watched silently, tension crackling in the air as the guide of the dead glared down at the once powerful pirate captain.
    Knowing why he asked this question and the import of answering correctly, the unflinching female met his eyes with hers. “No,” she answered simply, a smirk playing on her lips as he moved to draw his sword to take her life. In a flash, she met his blade with hers; a determined look on her face.
    The crew began to press in on them, murmuring dangerously as they began to draw their own swords. “I have never feared death Jones but I would join your crew if you would have me,” she offered, merely holding off his blade with her own and making no move to attack him. For a breathless moment Jones only kept pressing forward with his blade, a glare on his octopus-like face.
    Then he backed off, sheathing his sword as he laughed viciously. “ I don’t have any claim to yer soul and yet ye’ll stay here willingly! Well, I’m not one to turn down free work. But be warned, show one speck of startin’ a mutiny and ye will become nothing more than the rest o’ them,” he growled, waving to the crew of undersea horrors that surrounded them.
    The proud female did something she never would have done for anyone else, even would have killed someone for just suggesting it. She got down on one knee and bent her head in total submission. “I Flame, the ‘Wolf of the Sea’, swear my unwavering loyalty to you until I am of no more use to you,” she whispered just loud enough for Jones to hear over the restless crew.
    “Then welcome aboard the ‘Flying Dutchman’. I hope ye enjoy yer stay lass, ye won’t ever be leavin’,” he snarled, before letting out a booming, evil laugh.
- 1
- 2
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Loving the Heartless