spacebabie | Hearts Across the Sea (Reply)

Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean and all related characters belong to Walt Disney, Gore, Jerry, Ted and Terry.

Original Characters such as Julia Carlisle and Abigail Peterson are my own creation.

Author’s Note: This is the sequel to The Chosen and both have been inspired by Lyra_Lupin, Mrs. Norrington, and several others who have created excellent OC’s for our Navy Boy’s.

Characters: James Norrington, Theodore Groves, Murtogg, Mullroy, William Turner, Elizabeth Turner, Julia Carlisle, Abigail Peterson.

Setting: A few months after The Chosen.

Hearts Across The Sea

Prologue

5 years ago

The morning drills had paid a heavy burden upon the shoulders of Captain James Norrington. Many of the sailors were lacking in discipline, they almost were too stubborn to obey strict orders. While the followed the most dire tasks they would shrug of the ones they had deemed insignificant, and even if they did follow through it was lackluster at best. It was Norrington’s job and role to see that every one of them would follow their orders through. He hated having to use the lash on his men, but if they were to become proper naval officers he would have to set an example.

James had performed the task himself, striking the loudest and bull headed of the lot three times on his back. He did not say a word and hoped that the act along with his glare would sink the lesson into their skulls.

“The adolescent midshipmen are better behaved than they are,” James sat down in front of his fine oak desk and pulled out the drawer that contained his crystal decanter. Finely carved with the multi faceted surface, it was a gift from his mother along with a letter telling him that he and his “Wife of someday” would enjoy the gift. He kept his favorite brandy stored inside and after that morning he needed a drink.

“Captain Norrington,” lieutenant Theodore Groves knocked on his door. “The men are quarreling again.”

The idea of the drink had to be abandoned for now. “What are they fighting about?” He closed the drawer shut.

“It is about the fishing nets, sir,” By the tone of his voice, James could tell Groves was about as annoyed as he was.

“Apparently the one time with the lash wasn’t enough,” James stormed out of his cabin and strode straight towards the group of naval men clustered around the railing.

“Captain on the deck,” one of the officers hollered. He was one of the men Norrington had actually liked. He was young and always kept his shoes polished. He also was the first to obey direct orders.

“What is the commotion about?” He stared into the brown eyes of the young officer.

“A devil fish has been caught in the nets, sir.” The young man said.

“And why hasn’t it been released?”

“He wants it as a prize,” another officer answered, he was a barrel-chested man who had been verbally disciplined more than once to not nip more than his own share at the rum rations.

“I know a man,” the he in question said. His stringy hair had been gathered into a ponytail. “He makes them Jenny Hanovers, justs takes the sea devils and dries em, carves em and coats them in this stuff that makes them hard and shiny and he sells em.”

“Let me see,” James commanded and several of the men stepped aside except for those holding the large net and the ray in question. It was the size of a ten-year-old child and its wing like fins were folded over from the nets, dark eyes were expressionless and the gills on its white underside fluttered. “Release it.”

“But captain,” the Jenny officer said. “It is worth a good amount of money.”

“I said release it.” He stared at him, using the same expression he had used to stare at his men after he had used the lash earlier.

“You heard him,” the young red head said. “We are going to release it.” He grabbed a knife from another officer’s hand. A few others also grabbed knives and began to cut through the netting, taking care to not harm the fish.

“But captain,” the officer stepped towards the netting.

“You do understand the consequences of disobeying orders?” Lieutenant Groves asked him.

“I am sorry, sir,” the sailor stepped back.

“He is free,” the young officer announced once the last of the bindings had been cut. The young devilfish fell several feet and landed with a small splash. It sank a few feet even more before it swam away.

“It wasn’t even fully grown,” James muttered as held onto the railing. “I have been told they can grow to be larger than an adult man.”

“I would have gotten more money for an adult,” the Jenny man said.

“There will be no fishing for devil rays on my ship,” James instructed. “If one is accidentally caught it will be released at once. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes sir,” the red-head nodded.

“Thank you Mr. Gillette,” James nodded at him. “I will be in my cabin. I hoper there would be no further disruptions.”

“Yes sir,” the rest of his men nodded.

“More drills,” James grunted after he sat down at his desk again. “There will be more drills, more tasks, and more discipline.” He placed the decanter and glass on top of his desk. There were a few shining examples in the group, including the one named Andrew Gillette. If he kept it up he would be promoted in a shorter order. It wouldn’t be long and all of the officers would either fall in line or be dismissed.

“Even Gibbs wasn’t this difficult,” James took a small sip from his glass and stared at the surface of his desk. He did not remember the layer of dust. He set the glass down and removed a handkerchief from his pocket. There were a few clean streaks in the dust He kept staring at the streaks as he began to wipe and paused when he saw the streaks had spelled out words.

“Thank you for what you have done. I will never forget this.” James read the words out loud before he wiped the surface clean.

Laima pressed her finger against the wet, mud like clay and scrawled in images of ships and men and a manta ray. She loved it when the clay was this damp, she did not need the awl she always carried with her to create the images. It meant her fingers would become dirty, but then what does dirt matter to an immortal?

“She made the promise five years since and he has been through many trials in life,” she drew another ship, one with torn and tattered sails. “He once fought against the undead, lost his ship, those who once respected him. He lost his life without losing his mortal life, but he still felt as he died.” The white toga she wore shifted on her, turning liquid and stretched out over her body, reshaping itself it a rich green dress with a wide collar trimmed in gold, her dark hair restyled itself into to fit match the gown. “The most painful trial is when his heart was broken.”

“His heart is no longer in pain,” her younger sister was dressed in the habit of a nun. “It has eased with time and someone new. He tries not to think, doesn’t want to go through it again. What he doesn’t know this one’s love is true.” She smiled briefly before she placed a large quill into her hair. “Dear sister, why is our focus on this man?”

“Because of what he had been through,” Laima stood up; her gown shifted form once again, becoming furry animal skins. “He was once a Chosen.”

“Our sister is correct, Veridandi,” the youngest of the three danced up to them. She dressed in a skintight outfit of purple material that shone like glass, only her arms, neck, and head were devoid of the material. “He shall even encounter more.” She ran her fingers through her golden hair and begun to sing. “He shall be sent on a mission far from home, recover what was the King’s own pride and joy. There will be encounters, encounters of legends within the foam. He will become that queen’s newest toy. She who is true shall test her bravery, true friends do whatever it they can, save their brethren from her slavery, encounter even more legends to man.”

Veridandi stared at their sister before she leaned in to Laima. “I know we cannot be outright and forward with the mortals, but does Atropos have to be this cryptic with her own sisters?”

Laima shrugged. “It is her way.” Atropos’s ability to see into the future was her was her way, as was their way of choosing their own names. They did not choose them for themselves, but selected the names the mortals had chosen from them. Too many they were simply The Three. Different cultures had names for their group and individual names for themselves. Laima liked the name the Latvian people have given her more than the other names.

“None of you know because it hasn’t happened yet,” Atropos laughed. Her clothing melted and reshaped itself becoming a sleeveless gown that ended at the knees. Her hair became extremely short and sculpted, framing her face while a headband with a large feather encircled her head.

“Anything else you will like to inform us of?” Veridandi asked.

“That is all,” Atropos giggled again before she danced off.

“She doesn’t take things as serious as we do,” Laima shook her head. “And her way is the most serious of them all, only she will know if he will have a happy ending.”