Destiny | By : NLDCat Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (All) > General Views: 1771 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Part Two: A Vow Made In Anger
Upon
waking, he realizes that something was wrong. Slowly sitting up, he realizes
that he was on a different ship. Fear floods him and he wonders who had dragged
him from that bed. He tries the door and finds it unlocked. Feeling more and
more apprehensive, he heads out onto the deck. It only takes a moment for him
to realize that this was another pirate’s ship. “Well, yer finally awake,” a
voice comments. He turns his head to view a pirate he doesn’t recognize.
“Who are
you and what happened to my friend?” he demands.
The pirate
smirks unpleasantly. “Yer friend wouldn’t get outta the way. Said something
about it being a sad day indeed when a pirate works for the Royal Navy.”
Ethan
swallows. This wasn’t good. “B-Beckett sent you?”
“That’s
Lord Beckett to you, urchin!” the pirate growls, “but aye, he sent me.”
“Wh-what
did you do to the crew on the boat?” he whispers. The male turns him to see the
still burning remains of the ship.
“N-NO!” he
cries out.
“That’s
what happens to those who take what doesn’t belong to them.”
Ethan sinks
to his knees. “S-Samuel…” he whispers, “Oh Samuel…I am so sorry.”
His arm is
grabbed roughly and he’s hauled to his feet. “Well, since yer awake, it’s time
to move ye to yer new quarters,” the pirate sneers. Ethan barely registers the
man’s words and doesn’t react to being shoved into the brig. He curls up by the
wall holding his knees tightly to him. All he could think was that it was his
fault that the man he loved like a father was gone and that his death was on
his hands.
He’s only
drawn from his misery when he hears the sounds of something really, really big
spilling from the water. Looking through a hole carved into the cell, he sees
the Flying Dutchman spill forth from the water. “No,” he whispers, “stay away.”
When he sees the boat move closer to the Flying Dutchman, he can only wonder
about the sanity of the captain of this ship. ‘He is not going to try and get
the heart himself, is he?’ Ethan wonders. If that was the man’s plan…he was
going to die and probably take down the whole ship with him. Ethan slides down
onto the floor. He would die, miserable in the brig of a ship. Well, it beat
actually returning to Port Royal.
The boat
shudders to a halt and Ethan wonders what it was that the captain was thinking.
There was nothing to be gained by actually going onto the ship and attempting
to steal the heart of Davy Jones from the captain’s own ship. He is tempted to
look, but refrains and sits there against the wall. Soon he hears gunshots and
the sounds of a rowdy brawl. He curls up tightly and hopes the cannons don’t
start firing. If they did, he was going to be going down to the crushing blue
and he wasn’t quite ready to die just
yet.
It seems
like hours before it goes deathly silent. Ethan can only hear the blood
pounding in his ears. Then he hears footsteps. Shivering, the male slides to
the corner of the cell and hopes that he isn’t discovered. Fate has yet to be
kind. It was one of Davy Jones’s men. The male stops by the door and eyes him
curiously. “You again?” he asks.
“I seem to
be exceedingly popular,” Ethan mutters, “Beckett wants Davy Jones’s heart.”
“I take it
he found out that you gave it back.”
“Aye,”
Ethan answers. The male cocks his head for a moment before making short work on
the door.
“Come on, I
am sure our captain will enjoy another meeting with you.”
“I doubt
it,” Ethan comments though he gets up slowly. Finally, he cannot keep the
question inside. “Were there any survivors?”
“On that ship?”
“Aye.”
“No,” the
male says simply, “they were dead before the fire started.”
“Oh,” Ethan
whispers feeling the tears welling in his eyes, “I-I see.”
“Someone
you cared for was on that ship?”
“A-aye…the
only man to treat me like I mattered. He helped me get away from Beckett.”
“Well, none
of them looked like they suffered…if that makes it any easer for you.”
It hardly
eased his pain but he doesn’t say that. Losing the last person who had ever
cared was making his life meaningless. He was almost wondering if returning
Port Royal and letting Beckett and Mercer finish him wasn’t better than this.
Maybe it was the grief but, he wasn’t up for even trying to fight for anything
at this point.
He soon
finds himself on a familiar deck before a familiar male. “You again?” Davy
Jones asks.
Ethan just
looks up at him tiredly. His gray-blue eyes filled with all the anguish he was
currently feeling. “Found him in the brig. Seems the man trying to control the
sea is out to get him.”
“He found
out that you stole my heart back from him?”
“Aye…my
father told him.”
“Your
father?”
“He’s a
pirate working for Beckett. It is surprising how many are doing it,” Ethan
responds bitterly.
“What did
Beckett do?”
“It doesn’t
matter. I wouldn’t tell him where I found the Flying Dutchman.”
“Answer the
question, lad.”
“I don’t
answer to you. I am neither dead nor dying.”
“I could
change that fact for you, if you’d like.”
“It doesn’t
matter. The sacrifices one makes not out of greed or personal gain are hardly
worth remembering or acknowledging.”
“Is that
so?”
“Aye,”
Ethan whispers feeling drained, “I just lost someone…probably the only one who
has ever truly cared for me. I-I just…I want to lie down. Please.”
Davy Jones
looks at him for a moment before waving to the male who had brought him. “Show
the young man to a place to lie down.”
“Aye,
captain,” the male responds before tugging Ethan down into the bowls of the
ship. Thankfully, he ends up in a room and not the brig. He curls up on the bed
and hopes that his fortunes will have improved a bit by the time he wakes up.
He closes his eyes and gives a quiet plea to have a dreamless sleep. The stress
from the week’s events comes crashing down and he slides into a deep sleep
devoid of the pain, anger, and fear he is feeling.
He wakes up
feeling rested at least. He slowly sits up and draws his knees to his chest.
‘Sam, please, forgive me,’ he thinks, ‘I didn’t mean for you to die.’ If he had
known that Beckett was going to do that, he would have told Samuel to stay as
far away as he possibly could. He was never going to forgive them for this.
They had no right to kill Samuel for protecting him. ‘They will die,’ he vows,
‘I give you my word, Samuel, I will see Beckett and Mercer dead for this.’ It
was a vow he would do everything in his power to keep.
His angry
musing is interrupted by the entrance of Davy Jones. “How are ye feeling?”
“Does it
matter?” he asks curling to one side staring at the wall.
“Now, now,
there is no reason for such an attitude.”
“Says you,”
he says coldly.
“Yer upset
over the burned ship?”
“The
captain was a good friend of mine,” he seethes as he rolls over to face the
other male, “not that you would know anything about that.”
“So that’s
what’s bothering you?”
“Why
WOULDN’T it bother me?” he snaps losing his temper, “I just LOST the only
person who ever saw me as a person!”
“Why
wouldn’t someone see ye as a person, lad? From where I am standing, ye look
normal.”
“Says you,”
Ethan mutters bitterly.
“Ye know, ye
have more moodswings than a woman, lad.”
The words
are out before he can take them back, “Not surprising since I happen to be a
hermaphrodite!” His gray-blue eyes widen almost comically and he covers his
mouth wondering if he could just die. However, the look on Davy Jones’s face is
almost enough to make him laugh.
“Yer what?”
he asks obviously needing it repeated.
“I am…a
hermaphrodite,” Ethan repeats, “hence the whole
‘hard-to-find-people-who-see-me-as-a-person comment.”
Davy Jones
snorts. “So, ye have a few more organs than yer supposed to, how does that give
them the right to make ye feel inferior?”
“You’d have
to ask them,” Ethan tells him, “because I don’t know.”
“Idiots…the
lot of them. It’s no wonder I stopped being human a long time ago.”
“I bet,” he
mutters, “I can just bet. So, when can I get off the Flying Dutchman?”
“After I
deal with a certain captain of the Black Pearl.”
“Jack
Sparrow?”
“Aye, he
owes me a debt.”
“Why can’t
you just let him be?”
“I just
told ye that he owes me a debt.”
“So until
you can catch him and make him repay the debt, I am goin to be stuck here?”
“That about
sums it up, lad.”
“Great,”
Ethan mutters, “I am never going to get off of this damned thing.”
“Excuse me?
Are you saying that I am not going to be able to get him.”
“You come
to your own conclusion,” Ethan tells him before rolling back over onto his
side. “Though, I will tell you this, you may find more trouble than it’s worth
for going after Jack Sparrow.”
“Oh?”
“I am just
saying that Elizabeth and Will may just give you a run for your money.”
Jones
snorts. “I am not too worried about those two. Jack owes me for raising the
Pearl from the depths and I intend to make him pay.”
“Whatever,”
Ethan mumbles, “suit yourself then.”
Davy Jones
doesn’t respond and Ethan listens to the sounds of his footsteps receding.
Alone with his own thoughts, the anguish returns and he draws his knees to his
chest. He’d never had a chance to tell Samuel how grateful he was to him for
saving him from Beckett and Mercer. The tears come and he cries against his
knees.
He feels
more drained than ever once his tears subside. He wipes his face. There was no
use in crying. It solved nothing and made him feel worse not better about
things. It wouldn’t bring Samuel back so it was useless. Stomach growling, he
decides to find something on the ship that could be consumed by a “human”. He
could only hope that there was something he could eat.
He makes
his way to the deck swaying slightly. Watching the crew scuttle back and forth
makes him slightly queasy though he manages to swallow the urge to shudder in
revulsion. He figures that making a bad impression on the crew was NOT a good
way to make his stay on the ship easy, and he doesn’t want to make himself have
anymore problems than necessary. ‘I cannot believe that I have to stay here
until he catches up to the Black Pearl,’ he thinks miserably, ‘wonderful. I am
never going to get back to Port Royal.’ At the thought of that place and the
monsters that had taken over it, the rage returns. ‘I WILL kill them,’ he
thinks, ‘and I will make sure that it is slow and painful.’
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