#then we can deal with rakepick and that whole deal with davy-jones!finn >>;

[carewyncromwell]

Left you all on a cliffhanger last time, so let’s just jump right in! Previous part of the POTC AU here, the whole tag is here, and Jules Farrier is @cursebreakerfarrier’s! Let’s go! <3

x~x~x~x

It took a moment for Orion to recover from Carewyn’s “confession.” It took a little longer still before he felt brave enough to make any movement toward her, though he still found himself oddly uncertain of how to proceed. For, believe it or not, the dashing pirate Orion Amari had never been in love with anyone else, nor did he have much instinct of how best to express affection. He’d encountered plenty of pirates who were “ladies’ men” in Tortuga and the like, of course -- but not only did Orion find they often gave off unpleasant vibes, but he knew for a fact that not one of them could have ever caught the eye of someone like Carewyn Cromwell.

And so Orion found himself hesitating, his hand resting just over Carewyn’s shoulder just shy of her cheek, as he watched her face for her reaction. Carewyn fortunately picked up on Orion’s shyness immediately, and she inclined her head in a muted, encouraging nod as she brought her own hand up to lightly trail over his cheek. The gentleness of the gesture made a shudder ripple through Orion’s shoulders, and he soon found himself mirroring her, smoothing a piece of her bangs from her eyes with his pointer and middle fingers. Her lips spread into a smile as she leaned in, her hand securing itself on his jawline, and placed a chaste kiss to his lips.

That kiss lasted three seconds.

The warmth of her lips on top of his seemed to fill Orion with a wonderful lightness, as if he were coming up off the ground -- and when it ended, there was a strange feeling of withdrawal. It felt like he’d gotten only a small taste of some sugary sweet, and it just wasn’t enough to satisfy him.

And so, almost as soon as she’d pulled away, Orion found himself bringing both hands up to her cheeks, cradling it as he slowly leaned in and kissed her again.

That kiss lasted fifteen seconds.

When they broke apart again, both of them were smiling. Carewyn leaned her forehead against his, and for a moment, all they could do was hold each other, reveling in this bizarre new feeling of closeness. It was so warm and fulfilling, and yet peaceful and soothing at the same time. Orion was more off-balance than ever and yet...all seemed right with the world.

As happy as the moment was, however, they both knew it couldn’t last. Carewyn was the one who woke up from the dream first.

“...What do we do now?” she murmured.

Orion’s face became much more somber seeing the sad glint in Carewyn’s gaze as it fell away. He considered her carefully, his dark eyes narrowing slightly.

“...I don’t know,” he said at last, very softly.

His eyes trailed over her face even though she still couldn’t look up at him.

“...I know I cannot ask you to come with me. You could never be a pirate, Carewyn Cromwell. Your spirit’s free as one, but your heart is too noble. Too heroic and selfless...”

His gaze softened sadly.

“And as long as your family -- your found family as well as your brother -- is out on the high seas...I know you would never abandon the position that gives you the power to protect them. ...Nor could I ever ask that of you.”

Carewyn met Orion’s eyes again. Her blue eyes were rippling to the brim with emotion, raging and turbulent as the sea itself.

“And I can’t ask you to stay with me,” she said. “As long as the East India Trading Company is obsessed with hunting down and killing all pirates...it would never be safe for you in Port Royal...or near me.”

She leaned her forehead against his again, closing her eyes.

Orion wished he knew how best to comfort her. Tentatively he secured his arms around her and brought up a hand to cradle the back of her head, the way he’d seen a woman hold her beau’s head while kissing him goodbye at the dock, when he was a boy.

“The world does indeed seem to be against us,” he said softly, “but the world in itself is not meant to be static. It, and fate, is constantly moving. Fate brought us together once, long ago...and it also demanded we separate. It brought us back together, and then we had to separate once more. Like the sun chases the moon...they do see each other every morning at dawn and every night at dusk...even if they must be apart so much of the time.”

Orion adjusted slightly so that he could look Carewyn in the face more easily.

“...Even if we must do that pattern several more times over,” he whispered, “I would cherish every time we met in the sky again, even if it’s only fleetingly.”

Carewyn looked up at him, her eyes full of pain. The movement made their lips suddenly only a hair’s width apart.

“You’d be all right with just that?” she asked.

He could feel her breath against his lips. It was enough to make his heart rate spike, and he had to take a stabilizing breath before answering. 

“It seems to me that this...is something that most people could go their whole life never knowing for a moment. With that perspective...those precious moments where we could cross paths would be a gift, not an injustice.”

Carewyn frowned. “I understand, but...in this world we’re in, we should not want to collide at all. I’d have to arrest you, and we’d have to fight. There’s only so much we can pretend...so much I can pretend.”

She closed her eyes again, but this time, she didn’t just look sad -- she looked focused. When she opened her eyes again, it was full of a new kind of fire.

“If the world is meant to change...then I’ll make sure it does,” she said firmly. “I’ll fight for a world where you don’t have to run, and I don’t have to lie -- where Bill, Charlie, and Jules don’t have to be criminals just because they were determined to save my life. Where the Navy protects its citizens more than the East India Trading Company’s bottom line. ...Where people aren’t automatically branded criminals with no chance of reprieve or proper justice.”

Orion considered Carewyn for a moment, his expression rather unreadable. Carewyn’s confidence flickered ever-so-slightly.

“...You don’t believe me?”

Orion’s lips spread into a full, soft smile.

“I learned when I was still a boy trying to argue against eating and staying the night in a stranger’s house never to doubt the convictions of Carewyn Cromwell.”

Carewyn’s eyes softened as her lips also spread into a very small, warm smile. Then she leaned in to close the gap between their mouths once more.

That kiss lasted only a second, but there were about five more of them in rapid succession, a little longer and deeper each time.

The following day, the Artemis found a deserted island on one of the rum runners’ routes where they could drop Carewyn off. The crew was a bit disappointed to see her go -- sure, she was a bit too paragon to be a pirate, but she was a capable sailor and her singing voice was pleasant to listen to. Most importantly of all, they could all sense how much their Captain had taken to her and hated the thought of him being unhappy without her.

Carewyn and Skye exchanged a respectful handshake and farewells. McNully shook Carewyn’s hand too, but both she and he ended up using both hands in the end -- Carewyn lamented that she wouldn’t be able to work with such a talented tactician back with the Navy. Then Orion escorted Carewyn ashore on his own, the crew staying behind so that they could exchange their proper farewells.

Both of them stayed very stoic for most of the hand-off. Orion could only give Carewyn a jug of water and a pistol with one shot, as per the rules of marooning, as much as he’d also wished he could give her a bottle of rum and some food for the next few days she’d no doubt be on the island, waiting for someone to pick her up. But as Carewyn pointed out, she wouldn’t die of thirst in that time, and she honestly shouldn’t look in great shape when she was recovered anyway. And so, reluctantly, Orion turned to go.

He’d made it about twenty paces when he paused, looking back at Carewyn on the beach. She was standing in true Commodore fashion, with her arms behind her back and her posture perfectly straight, and yet despite her brave expression, he could see the sadness in her eyes she tried so desperately to hide.

It was in that moment that Orion did something completely off-balance and impulsive. In an instant, he’d barreled back across the beach at the run and, when he reached Carewyn, he threw an arm around her, pulled her in, and kissed her. It was deeper than any of their other kisses had been, with both of them holding onto each other’s back and head and touching each other’s faces as they tried desperately to communicate the depth of their feelings in that tragically short time they were allowed.

That kiss felt like it went on for days...and yet it still wasn’t long enough.

Part of Carewyn wanted to just grab Orion and never let go of him again -- to shield him from anyone and anything who tried to harm him...but she knew she couldn’t hope to protect him from the entire world. And so, very reluctantly, she and Orion separated, and Orion returned to the Artemis. Carewyn watched the pirate ship sail out of sight, her heart full of every prayer she could think of to ensure his safety.

Within two days, Carewyn had been found by a merchant ship, and within the week, she was back in Port Royal. Percy had been beyond relieved to hear of her safe return, though it broke Carewyn’s heart to lie about what had gone down with Bill, Charlie, and Jules. McNully had decided it’d be best if Carewyn claimed that she and the two eldest Weasleys had had a huge falling-out when she’d heard what they’d done (rather like Percy had) and that they’d been the ones to maroon her, rather than Orion. It would give a good explanation about why she was in such good shape, since even if Bill and Charlie were now criminals, they were still “his brothers,” but it would also make them seem rather heartless, to maroon their own brother on some barren island supposedly with no chance of rescue. When Carewyn met Governor Farrier again, however, she refused to say that Bill was holding Jules prisoner, as he’d originally presumed. 

“She took the Revenge and rechristened it as her own flagship,” said Carewyn solemnly. “I’m afraid Miss Farrier -- pardon, Juliette Weasley is as much a pirate as my brothers are.”

What she did not add was that she believed that was “not at all.”

In the time Carewyn was gone, Percy had been promoted to Captain of his own ship, the Clearwater. He was incredibly proud of it -- as happy as Carewyn was for Percy, it proved difficult at points for her not to get a little irritated about how much he was puffing his chest out in the new fancier blue and white uniform he’d been given. He also couldn’t stop talking about the man who had “suggested” he be promoted, after meeting him.

“Lord Beckett really has his finger on the pulse of things,” said Percy one day as he walked with Carewyn around the newly repaired wall of the fort together. “He was thoroughly dismayed when he’d heard you’d been captured -- he’d actually wanted to meet you when you first got promoted, he’s heard all about you...”

‘Lucky me,’ Carewyn couldn’t help but think. The memory of Orion telling her about his time on Beckett’s slave ship rippled over her mind again, and it made her feel a bit ill.

“...Said your ingenuity would be a valuable asset. Lord Beckett is a businessman first and foremost, you see, so he tends to see people in regards to how useful they are...”

“‘Useful?’” Carewyn couldn’t help but repeat, raising her eyebrows primly. “Seems like a harsh way to judge people -- I reckon everyone has their own strengths and weaknesses.”

“Well, yes,” acknowledged Percy, “but again, he is a businessman. One has to make calculated risks, in that kind of a position. And his judgements seem rather sound -- he even mentioned having a woman on his payroll, helping him track down pirates.”

He shot Carewyn a rather meaningful look. She could surmise what he was thinking -- if Cutler Beckett allowed women to work for him, perhaps Carewyn could too and not have to hide her gender anymore. Being sure to hide her disgust at the thought of working for the man who had branded Orion a pirate, she gave a light shake of the head.

“As much as I respect the man for his inclusivity...I am a Navy officer, and I take pride in fighting for the crown.”

‘More than I ever would fighting for a private citizen whose moral code seems to be distinctly self-aggrandizing.’

She placed a gentle hand on Percy’s shoulder and gave it a light squeeze.

“...And really...what I want first and foremost is to look after my home and my family -- namely, you. I feel a soldier is better equipped to do that than a pirate hunter.”

Percy smiled slightly, clearly touched by her caring, but he tried to stay serious.

“...Well, that’s a noble thought, Carey,” he mumbled, “but I daresay Lord Beckett would be a bit disappointed.”

“Most assuredly.”

Carewyn turned around, startled.

A man only about two inches taller than her had arrived up on the wall of the fort. He wore a white powdered wig under a black velvet tricorn hat and a gold-embroidered vest with his suit, and his face on first glance gave Carewyn the distinct impression that this was a tiny man who fancied himself to be a lot bigger than he actually was. Carewyn herself had always been on the small side, but she made up for it with her confidence, strong moral code, and work ethic -- this man seemed to be the sort to puff himself up through very different means.

“Lord Beckett!” said Percy, startled.

“Captain Percy Weasley, good to see you,” said Beckett in a breezy tone that indicated to Carewyn he didn’t truly believe the sentiment at all. His eyes had fallen on Carewyn, narrowing slightly as he gave a rather stony smile. “Commodore Carey Weasley -- we meet at last.”

#potc au #au #pirates of the caribbean #orion amari #carewyn cromwell #my art #percy weasley #my writing #my fanfiction #looks like it's time for some dead man's chest plottage! #again I'm not going to include EVERYTHING from the other pirate films #I'll mostly just steal some ideas from the second and third and sew them together into a second story arc #basically think of this part as the end of act one #drawing kisses is hard #and now I've done three of them in a row! #first bill/jules then duncan/jacob and now carewyn/orion #how oh how will you ever be together my sweet carion...? #first things first let's feed cutler beckett to the kraken #then we can deal with rakepick and that whole deal with davy-jones!finn >>; #also yeah I see all of the other officers wearing gentlemanly shoes and hose with their breeches like norrington and such do in the films #carey however wears black boots not unlike the pirates do #in universe it's because carewyn has very narrow feet that are hard to fit and it's easier to stuff boots than it is gentleman shoes #but meta-wise is this visual short-hand? totally #also tall boots are awesome

[carewyncromwell]

Next installation of the POTC AU, at long last! Sorry for the delay...RL has been a bit of a hindrance, and I also had to kind of restructure some things in the storyline to help with flow and such, and that resulted in me having to draw another drawing, and yeah, blah blah, Tory lost her sense of rhythm and pretty much daily update schedule in the process. XD; Mea culpa!

In this part, we’ll have focus on both sides of the “divide,” with both Carewyn and her new ally Davy Jones/Finn McGarry @theguythatdraws and Charlie Weasley (pictured above in an even more pirate-y coat and hat than we saw last) and his sloop’s passenger Chiara Dalma. Will our pirate friends be able to reach Shipwreck Cove before they’re cut off by our non-pirate ones?

Interestingly enough, there was a pirate called Moody in the 1700s, though this one was Christopher Moody, not Alastor. Not much is known about him aside from his brutality (refusing to take prisoners), his unique Jolly Roger flag (which was red and gold rather than black), and his death by hanging in 1722. Pirate!Mad-Eye is going to be much more like his book/movie/game counterpart, but I just thought it was a fun coincidence. (Particularly his red/gold color scheme for his flag, which of course are Gryffindor colors!!)

Jules Farrier-Weasley belongs to @cursebreakerfarrier, last part is here, and whole tag is here! Hope you enjoy!

x~x~x~x

Carewyn knew there was no way she would be able to get Jones’s heart as long as her men were guarding the Chest -- yet, at the same time, she couldn’t just order them to abandon it without cause...and she’d need that time, if she wanted to unlock it without stealing the key from Rakepick. And so she’d need a proper diversion.

Davy Jones himself came up with a solution. If the Flying Dutchman was engaged in battle, then the soldiers might have to jump in to help defend it. All they’d have to make sure of was that the enemy they engaged in battle was one Cutler Beckett would approve of -- namely, one of the more wanted pirates in the Caribbean, and someone who could end up being one of the Pirate Lords.

“I do not know any of the pirates’ current list of so-called ‘Lords,’” said Jones, “but if I were to guess, I would say your brother’s a viable candidate.”

Carewyn shook her head. “Rakepick blew up the Tower Raven. Jacob managed to escape, but he only has one other person with him and he won’t have a ship.”

“Not his flagship, perhaps, but the rest of his fleet would have still survived,” pointed out Jones. “And the more ships there are, the most justification there would be for your Navy reinforcements. Once I have my heart returned, I can always call off the attack -- there’s no need for me to capture or kill them, aside from following Beckett’s direction.”

And so it was very reluctantly that Carewyn agreed to let Jones covertly seek out the remainder of the Tower Raven’s fleet while supposedly looking for Shipwreck Cove. Little did Carewyn know that the Tower Raven’s fleet was likewise headed for Shipwreck Cove, and that they were on a collision course with a tiny red sloop steered by Charlie Weasley.

When Charlie came upon the fleet of pirate ships, he initially wasn’t too worried. Yeah, naturally, they dwarfed his vessel easily, but he presumed that they were heading for Shipwreck Cove as well, and they didn’t have much reason to attack a small sloop like his. What Charlie hadn’t factored in was that the captain of one of those ships -- Alastor “Mad-Eye” Moody -- had gone through his fair share of trauma when he used to be in the Navy and was something of a paranoid sort...and so within minutes, the little sloop Charlie and Chia Dalma were on was soon pursued by Moody’s much larger galleon, called the Phoenix.

Fortunately Charlie was more than talented enough of a sailor to keep his head. Using the advantage of his boat’s size, he weaved expertly through the remainder of the Tower Raven’s ships to evade the Phoenix’s cannon fire.

“Oi!” Charlie bellowed up at one of the ships he was hiding behind. “Tell your mate to bugger off! I’m not with the bloody Navy!”

Chia made no move to help Charlie: instead she stood on the other side of the sloop, watching the seas with a wary eye. There was something troubling on the wind -- something in the air...

A pirate from the Phoenix came up to the railing to look down at Charlie and Chia on their sloop as Charlie sailed it around his galleon. He was a broad-shouldered man about Charlie’s age with dark red hair under a black bandana and small emerald green eyes, and he was dressed in a burgundy-colored coat.

“Hey -- you!” the pirate bellowed down at him. “Down there! Shout up your name!”

Charlie hesitated at first. He knew it was unlikely that most pirates would recognize his name as being that of a pirate -- if anything, the name “Weasley” was associated more with the Navy, even if he, Jules, and Bill had recently been branded criminals.

‘Even so,’ he thought, ‘I’m never going to be able to build a reputation as anything other than a Navy veteran if I don’t use my name. And well, these guys answer to Carey’s brother -- it should be safe...’

“I’m Charlie Weasley!” he shouted back. “Quartermaster of the Revolution under Captain Jules Farrier-We -- ack!”

Before Charlie could even finish, both he and Chia had gotten a net thrown over them and they were hauled aboard the Phoenix.

As Charlie had feared, the name “Weasley” made everyone on the Phoenix tense up with suspicion. Charlie’s “twin,” it turned out, had been swept up by Cutler Beckett, who was now flaunting the fact that the famous, brilliant young Commodore Carey Weasley was answering to him and helping him with his new anti-piracy campaign. Charlie knew full well the only reason Carewyn could be associating with Beckett was to try to sabotage him, but the Phoenix’s Captain Moody seemed doubtful of that explanation. His First Mate, Barnaby Lee -- the young man who had first demanded Charlie’s name -- seemed noticeably less suspicious, but wasn’t half as assertive or articulate as Moody, so the Captain’s conclusion won out among the crew.

Charlie and Chia were soon hauled down to the brig with the thought that once the fleet arrived in Shipwreck Cove, Moody’s superior, Black Jack Roberts -- were he still alive -- would be able to discern how best to deal with them. Charlie hadn’t been too surprised that Jacob hadn’t told everyone in his fleet that “Carey Weasley” was really his sister, but he couldn’t help but curse the fact that Jacob had merely ordered that his men not “damage anyone with the name ‘Weasley’ and immediately bring them to him to deal with.” Even if he had to keep up a “tough guy” image, it would’ve been nice if Jacob had factored in the possibility that he wouldn’t be leading his fleet.

Unfortunately Moody’s suspicion had a real cost. Because of his focus on Charlie and Chia Dalma, he wasn’t focusing on the turbulence of the seas and skies that Chia picked up on -- and so had no warning whatsoever when the Flying Dutchman attacked. Soon the entire fleet of ships that once sailed under the Tower Raven was hotly engaged in battle with the infamous ship of the damned, pirates facing off against both cursed sailors and Navy officers.

While Davy Jones, his crew, and the Navy’s officers were fighting on the upper deck, Carewyn had stowed away below deck to where the Dead Man’s Chest had been left. After sending the remainder of the patrol above deck to help with the sea battle, Carewyn immediately got to work picking the lock on the Chest. Although it was a bit trickier to do it on her own than it had been with Percy, that hindrance was counteracted somewhat by her having unlocked the Chest once before. Within fifteen minutes, Carewyn had unlocked the two-sided lock and opened the Chest.

But when she opened it, she found it completely empty.

“It seems we truly are as alike as I thought.”

Carewyn whirled around.

Rakepick was leaning her shoulder against the door frame. She’d discarded her tricorn hat just as Carewyn had since they were no longer on deck, and her dark blue eyes were locked on the Commodore’s face as though it were a target.

Carewyn immediately pulled out her pistol, pointing it right at Rakepick.

“Where is the heart?” she said very coldly.

“I confiscated it,” said Rakepick simply, “back when I checked to make sure Jones’s key works.”

“On Beckett’s orders?” asked Carewyn.

Had she truly not fooled Beckett, after all? Had Rakepick been sent to watch her as well as Jones? Her face blanched at this thought.

“For my own benefit,” said Rakepick. “Just as I daresay your attempt to steal the heart also was.”

Carewyn’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not stealing anything.”

”I don’t know what else you’d call picking the lock on a Chest that’s in the custody of the British Navy,” said Rakepick with a rather cool smile.

Carewyn clicked her pistol and pointed it right at Rakepick’s head.

“Hand over the heart,” she murmured, “now.”

Rather than looking the least bit intimidated, however, Rakepick almost looked more pleased. She eased herself off the door frame and took a few steps closer to Carewyn.

“You intend to kill me, Commodore?” she said.

“I would prefer not to,” Carewyn answered icily. “But I suggest you don’t push me -- I can still shoot you in plenty of places that would be extremely painful or deadly, if left untreated. And no one would come to help you with your wounds -- there’s more than enough noise above deck to muffle any gun shots that might come from down here.”

Rakepick’s lips spread into an even fuller, satisfied smile as she came to a halt just a foot from Carewyn. “I see. If I’m dead, you won’t learn where the heart is. Very astute, Miss Weasley.”

Carewyn stiffened sharply.

“I knew it as soon as I saw you,” said Rakepick softly. “I daresay because your family is poor, you didn’t have enough prospects to just marry into money. Probably were too independent and self-sufficient to settle for that, as well....so you joined your brothers in the Navy by dressing as another son. I suppose ‘Carey’ is just a play on your real name -- is it Cara? Or Carina?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Carewyn whispered.

She tried to obscure her fear with anger, but it was proving difficult -- her face was as white as a sheet.

Rakepick couldn’t fight back a scoff. “Now, really, Commodore -- do you truly think you’re the only woman who realized how few opportunities there are, for us to get ahead in this world run by men? I dressed as a man and joined the Navy myself during the War, fighting the French off the coast of Africa as a privateer for his Majesty’s Navy.”

She started striding in a leisurely circle around Carewyn, even as the Commodore kept a beady eye on her.

“‘Patrick Rakepick,’ I was called then. I probably would’ve continued that way too, had privateering not been outlawed with the end of the War. Suddenly all of the skills I had learned -- just as with all privateers -- became illegal and therefore useless. I was at the bottom once again, even worse off than before, thanks to the time lost and the injuries suffered. So I did what many other privateers did -- I became a pirate, so I could continue using those skills the Crown had taught me to support myself -- ”

“By pillaging merchant ships and attacking innocent people,” Carewyn spat. She wished she’d been able to keep her temper, but the mental image of this woman shooting Jacob in the back and pushing him overboard had rippled through her mind and it was a knife to her heart she couldn’t bear.

“We all have to do things we’re not proud of in order to survive, Miss Weasley,” said Rakepick very quietly. “That’s the reason you’ve stayed in line with Beckett yourself, is it not?”

Carewyn’s eyes narrowed. Rakepick took her silence as an excuse to press further.

“I saw the way you treated the prisoners from Tortuga. You did not treat them as Jones would, or even as any other officer would. You insisted they be fed and watered consistently, despite their large numbers and their shortened lifespans. You gave one a Bible, on request. You even moved a woman into a different cell so she could be with her husband for the rest of the voyage back to Port Royal, without even being asked.”

Rakepick’s dark blue eyes surveyed Carewyn with something interested, almost admiring, as she came to a halt just behind the shorter young woman.

“You have the heart of a guardian, Miss Weasley. Something not frequently seen in any line of work I’ve ever been part of -- privateering, piracy, or pirate hunting...and something never found among men like Cutler Beckett. It makes you want to protect others as well as yourself. It makes you a natural leader -- one that anyone would be foolish to deny their proper place.”

“I don’t need your flattery, Rakepick,” Carewyn said coldly, turning on her heel to face the older woman once again.

“This is not flattery,” Rakepick answered just as coldly. “It’s advice from someone who has been in your shoes. It’s not easy for anyone without money and status to get ahead in this world, but it’s even harder for a woman. Even when she’s able to acquire those things, there’ll always be a man attempting to clip her wings, so as to make him feel more powerful -- more in control. Even the tale of the goddess Calypso herself proves this. She ruled the seas, until the Pirate King and his Brethren Court ‘bound her’ into human form and stole control for themselves. They were powerless in the face of the Crowns of Europe...and so they exerted power over someone they could hurt.”

“Yet Cutler Beckett hired you, regardless of your sex,” said Carewyn, raising her eyebrows.

Rakepick crossed her arms over his chest. “Cutler Beckett will clip anyone’s wings, female or otherwise, if it benefits himself. Hence why I need this leverage over him.”

“Seems like the leverage is much more over Jones, considering you hold his life in your hands,” Carewyn cut her off harshly. “Now enough stalling -- give me Jones’s heart.”

Rakepick gave a half-frustrated, half-exhausted sigh. “Miss Weasley, do you truly think I wouldn’t have handed the heart over to you already, if I could? I’ve already made it more than clear I trust Beckett as little as you do. I’m not in this fight for him. I have no more love for either the Navy or the pirates than you do. I assure you -- we’re on the same side in this.”

‘Doubtful,’ Carewyn thought spitefully.

Nonetheless she could tell that she’d been outmaneuvered. Rakepick wasn’t going to hand over Jones’s heart, whether because it wasn’t on the ship or Rakepick was just too brave to give in to any threats she might make. She’d lost the element of surprise completely...and if force wasn’t going to work, then a new strategy was clearly needed. She needed to find out the heart’s new location. So, very reluctantly, she tucked her pistol back into its holster.

“If you’re so out for yourself,” said Carewyn coldly, “and you believe me to be just as out for myself...then we can’t be on the same side, Rakepick.”

Rakepick’s eyebrows rose over her narrowing dark blue eyes.

“I never said you were out for yourself, Miss Weasley -- merely that we are alike.”

She swept past Carewyn and headed for the door. When she reached the door frame, however, she paused. Turning her head back toward Carewyn, she spoke a bit more seriously.

“The battle between the Navy and the Pirate Brethren Court is going to be a fierce one. It would truly be in your best interest to get and stay off the Dutchman, before that fight begins.”

Carewyn shot a suspicious look over her shoulder without turning around.

“What battle?” she asked lowly.

“The place where all pirates will have to make their final stand.”

“You’re so assured of that? We haven’t even found Shipwreck Cove,” Carewyn pointed out. “Come to think of it...shouldn’t you know where Shipwreck Cove is, since you were a pirate yourself?”

Rakepick’s eyes flashed.

“I’m afraid not,” she said, her voice noticeably icier than it had been previously.

The question seemed to have gotten under Rakepick’s skin, and Carewyn suspected she knew exactly why. Only pirate captains were generally told the the location of Shipwreck Cove -- since she hadn’t assumed captainship through “Code-sanctioned” means, Rakepick couldn’t have been told by anyone else on the crew of Howell Davis’s ship where Shipwreck Cove was.

‘Serves you right, for what you did to Jacob,’ Carewyn thought, and she couldn’t completely fight back a small smirk.

“Regardless,” said Rakepick, “it won’t take long to find it. You saw the map Beckett designed, in your office -- it’s been finished, since you last saw it. The world’s edges have been drawn and charted, and so too have all of the places pirates could’ve once hidden. Now that they’ve been fenced in and the British Crown has allocated its Navy to the East India Trading Company’s war on piracy...it’s only a matter of time before all pirates face extinction. Those in power will not surrender it peacefully...least of all to those they’ve decided to treat as inferiors...so they’ll use every bit of that power they’ve accrued to try to quash any resistance. Those remaining pirates will have to either adapt to this terrifying new world their rebellion has molded...or perish.”

Rakepick turned away.

“And you, Miss Weasley...should not remain on the Dutchman. You don’t belong on a ship like this.”

Even as Rakepick left, Carewyn remained where she was, standing straight-backed in the center of the room with her fists clenched. Then, after a long moment, she brought a hand up to the lid of the empty Dead Man’s Chest and shut it with a harsh SNAP.

The sea battle up above raged. Captain Moody, it seemed, was truly a force to be reckoned with, despite his age and wooden limbs. When Navy officers and Dutchman pirates found their way onto the Phoenix, he fought four of them off single-handed, even going so far as to yank a blunderbuss out of his pants and shoot one of them right in the head before smacking two of the others with it as if it were a club. It was just fortunate that Charlie -- newly escaped from the brig thanks to a charm of Chia Dalma’s -- was able to block the sword belonging to the last of them with his own dragon-hilted blade.

Despite this, the Phoenix and the rest of the Tower Raven’s old fleet was severely outmatched, since Jones’s crew couldn’t die. Many ships had already started to flee, only for the Flying Dutchman to cut them down with cannon fire. Even though the Dutchman was no larger than the pirate galleons, it seemed to have the supernatural ability to heal any damage dealt to it within the span of a few minutes -- an ability not shared by Captain Moody, when he swung over to the Dutchman and pursued Jones with singular, irrational focus, only to finally be overpowered and killed by Jones himself.

“NO!” bellowed Barnaby.

Charlie straightened up sharply, his eyes widening in horror, at the sight of Moody falling to his knees, Jones’s blade stuck right through his chest.

Jones regarded the old man with a grim expression.

“Alastor Moody,” he murmured, “do you fear death?”

Moody glared up at Jones with his one good eye, but was clearly too badly injured to speak. So instead he spat at his feet.

Jones looked almost jaded by the reaction -- the way any embodiment of Death would likely be, whenever anyone got mad at them for doing their job.

“Clearly not.”

With this, he rather callously tossed Moody back over onto the deck of the Phoenix and whirled back to his crew.

“Ready the cannons!”

Barnaby immediately rushed to his captain’s side to help him up.

“Captain -- Captain, are you -- ?”

Alas, Moody was still too injured to speak clearly. When he opened his mouth, all he could do was cough up blood. Charlie rushed over too.

“He’s hurt bad,” he muttered. He turned to Chia. “Is there anything you -- ?”

Chia shook her head, her gray eyes very solemn. “I’m sorry, Charles Weasley. There’s no more time I can give him.”

Charlie was startled by the sensation of someone grabbing the collar of his shirt. Moody pulled him down closer to him, trying to whisper into his ear.

"You -- ” he choked through the blood in his mouth, “ -- have the Pacific Ocean’s Piece of Eight -- ?”

Charlie blinked in surprise. He glanced down at the anchor-trimmed “S” button Chia gave him, which he’d pinned to his vest for safe keeping until he could properly sew it somewhere more secure.

“...Yeah,” said Charlie. “Chia Dalma gave it to me.”

Moody squinted up at Charlie.

“...Shipwreck Cove -- is due west, of here. Fifty miles -- through the D-Devil’s -- Throat. Take -- the crew there.”

Charlie was completely blind-sided. “What?”

“Lead them. Take them to -- Shipwreck Cove. To the rest of the Court. To -- Black Jack.”

Charlie’s brown eyes rippled with sadness, seeing how much difficulty Moody was having talking. He was out of time, as Chia had said -- and yet, here he was, putting his crew first.

‘For all of his faults,’ thought Charlie, ‘Mad-Eye Moody is a good captain.’

The second-eldest Weasley took Moody’s wizened hand in both of his and gave it a squeeze.

“I will,” he said firmly. “I promise.”

Blood streamed from Moody’s lips as they curled up in a pained smile. “That’s a good lad...”

He coughed, trying hard to take another breath. This time, however, the blood blocked his throat enough that no oxygen could reach him. And so Moody, in the last shreds of his life, bravely raised his eyes to the sky with a smile.

Barnaby had brought his two large fists up to obscure his face as he started to cry. Charlie hung his head respectfully over the fallen captain of the Phoenix. After a moment, he brought up a hand to close Moody’s eyes and then rose to his feet, his eyes blazing with determination.

“ALL HANDS, PREPARE THE CANNONS!” he bellowed. “We need all the explosives and smoke bombs we have -- we’re getting the Hell out of here!”

Charlie’s strategy was to assault the Flying Dutchman with two waves of attack. The first would be to damage the ship enough that it would need a few minutes to repair itself -- the second would be a smokescreen, so as to hopefully put enough distance between the Phoenix and the Flying Dutchman that the second couldn’t actively take down the first with its cannon fire. When Charlie ran to the edge of the Phoenix beside Chia Dalma to make the order to fire, he was startled momentarily by who he saw coming up onto the deck of the Dutchman.

It was Carewyn.

Jones confronted her immediately, his eyes narrowed sharply as he barked something to her -- Carewyn looked rather frustrated herself, but Charlie couldn’t make out what they were saying. Within seconds, however, both Jones and Carewyn turned their focus to the battle -- and they both caught sight of the two people at the railing.

Jones’s eyes flickered with shock, disbelief, and something oddly more vulnerable. He’d never seen the human woman on that ship’s railing in his life...but he knew those gray eyes...

“Ca...lypso...?”

Chia Dalma’s hands clutched the railing as her eyes filled with tears and a weak smile prickled at her features.

“Finn,” she breathed.

Carewyn, meanwhile, had met Charlie’s gaze straight on. Her eyes were very wide at the sight of him, just as much as Charlie’s was at the sight of her.

“Carey!” cried Charlie.

His heart felt like it was fit to burst, seeing his surrogate twin again. Part of him just wanted to throw himself over his ship’s railing over to her and pull her into the biggest hug, and yet --

She was on the Dutchman -- the Flying Dutchman, the ship of the damned --

Carewyn’s eyes flooded with fear as she shot her head around, taking in her soldiers fighting off pirates from the rest of the Tower Raven’s fleet on the deck of her ship and the Phoenix’s cannons being turned into the proper position.

Her gaze then shot back to Charlie’s face with urgency.

“BECKETT IS COMING!” she mouthed to him desperately. “BECKETT IS COMING! GO!”

She then yanked her pistol out of her belt and purposefully shot right over Charlie’s head, to make her point. Clenching his jaw, Charlie nonetheless nodded firmly, blinking back some traces of tears as he whirled on his crew.

“FIRST WAVE, FIRE ALL!” he roared.

With the Dutchman effectively hampered by both waves of attack, the Phoenix was able to successfully put a respectable distance between it and the Flying Dutchman. Carewyn tried to keep their focus on the rest of the fleet and on capturing prisoners from those vessels, but Rakepick contradicted her, ordering the Dutchman to shadow the Phoenix in case it was heading to Shipwreck Cove. What Carewyn did not expect was Jones agreeing with Rakepick.

“I want everyone on board the Phoenix locked in my brig,” said the captain of the damned icily, his gaze flaring with raw emotion as he glared at Carewyn. “I will not let them escape me.”

Carewyn knew she’d been outmaneuvered again. There was nothing more she could do, to protect everyone now. It was all up to Charlie now, to warn Bill, Jules, and Jacob...to warn Orion...

The memory of the pirate captain’s calm, dark eyes made Carewyn’s heart clench with longing and pain. He’d always made her feel so much stronger, whenever she felt most useless and hopeless...but right now, more than anything, she longed to have him at her side -- to feel his shoulder resting against hers and see his soft smile once more...

Rakepick was right -- the final battle was coming, sooner than anyone could’ve ever predicted. It was all up to Charlie to warn the Brethren Court now.

#potc au #au #pirates of the caribbean #my art #my writing #charlie weasley #carewyn cromwell #chiara lobosca #Mad-Eye Moody #barnaby lee #finn mcgarry #jules farrier #bill weasley #patricia rakepick #damn it rakepick! #sadly we couldn't afford to set finn free just yet though #gotta get closer to shipwreck cove and reunite him with chia :3 #but yay captain charlie weasley of the phoenix! #he may or may not change the name to something more dragon-like later XD #but yeah technically you gotta be a captain to be a pirate lord #one reason moody gave charlie captainship #and also because as great as barnaby is I think he makes a better First Mate than a Captain #just like bill does XDD #I love putting rakepick and carey in a room together #wonder if you guys can guess who the brethren court members are... #hint: two of them are mc's who have done content for the au #(another mc is the keeper of the code >:3) #four are hphm canon characters #(one of those is charlie of course) #and the last is one of my kiddos >:3

[carewyncromwell]

Anybody want some more POTC AU? Well, this time we’re getting some focus on our Davy Jones (Finn McGarry @theguythatdraws, based on this concept) and our Commodore “Carey Weasley” (Carewyn Cromwell)! In the original films, their respective roles are on opposite sides of the fence (hell, Davy Jones kills Norrington in the movies damnitDisneyNorringtondeservedbetter >>), and even in this AU, Davy!Finn has some history with Carewyn’s brother Jacob...so how will they interact, when they collide? We’ll just have to wait and see...

17th-18th century pirate ships were -- in a bizarre way -- tiny, floating representative democracies, about 50-60 years before the American Revolution. In a world where nearly all European countries were run by kings chosen by “divine right” and one could usually only “rise above their station” through fighting in wars or through marrying someone of a higher class, pirate ships operated under the idea of “one man, one vote” and their captains both were chosen by popular vote and could be replaced at any time, oftentimes rather peacefully. The Age of Enlightenment sparked by thinkers like John Locke started in the midst of the Golden Age of Piracy and really kicked off as soon as it was over, circa 1730. Those same ideas ended up inspiring both the American and French Revolutions in the later 18th and early 19th centuries...so yeah, in a weird way, you could draw a direct connection between the values and grievances against the monarchy expressed by pirates to the ones expressed by America’s Founding Fathers and the figures of the French Revolution!

Previous part is here, whole tag is here...and I hope y’all enjoy!

x~x~x~x

When the Flying Dutchman returned from Tortuga, the brig was stuffed to the brim with about two hundred prisoners -- and yet, even with that, Cutler Beckett was not pleased. None of those captured were particularly well-known or wanted pirates: instead the group largely consisted of retired pirates, pirates’ families, or other such refugees from the law who hadn’t committed any crimes except through association.

“The pirates refused to be taken alive, Beckett,” spat Jones impatiently. “All of the ones we captured fought to the death rather than be imprisoned.”

“Admirable excuse, Jones,” said Beckett airily, “but at present, we need prisoners to interrogate -- and although you may be comfortable dealing with dead men, they don’t do much good for us that way. Unless you can give us the location of Shipwreck Cove yourself?”

Jones’s eyes flashed dangerously. Alas, he couldn’t answer that question -- and so Beckett railroaded him.

“I’ve come to the conclusion that you need some oversight, Jones -- so from now on, Commodore Weasley and my associate, Patricia Rakepick, will remain on board the Dutchman...just to make sure things run smoothly.”

Jones watched as a line of soldiers escorted the Dead Man’s Chest on board his ship. He had felt the presence of his heart earlier, but it being so close made his chest feel like it was on fire, blazing with wild, storm-like emotions he hadn’t felt in years that made him want to hit something, scream in pain, and burst into tears all at the same time. It was agony, after so long, and it made Jones whirl on Beckett with a murderous expression.

“I will not have that thing on my ship!” he snarled.

“Perhaps you will not, but I will,” said Beckett.

He glanced at Rakepick. “Did the key Jones handed over work?”

Rakepick dangled the key to the Chest off of her finger with a smirk. “Aye -- I checked it before we brought it over.”

“Good.”

Beckett returned his gaze to Jones.

“From here on out, you shall answer to the Commodore and Madam Rakepick for your orders -- all orders, naturally, that come directly from me. Should you not, they will have the authority to discipline any misbehavior.”

Jones’s gaze flickered over Rakepick and then over to the shorter Navy-dressed officer standing perfectly straight beside her.

The Commodore -- yes. This was the one called “Carey Weasley” -- Black Jack Roberts’s younger sister and, as per Jones’s deal with Jack, his future crew member, Carewyn Cromwell. She truly didn’t resemble her brother much at all, Jones thought: it was little wonder no one had made a connection between her and the infamous captain of the Tower Raven. And Jones thought, it was irony at its finest, the thought that one of the people Beckett was using to restrain him was in fact destined to scrape before him instead, within the next two months.

Jones’s gaze returned to Beckett pretty quickly. He snapped his claw at his side as he loomed over the much smaller man.

“The Flying Dutchman sails as its captain commands,” he said fiercely.

“And its captain will sail it as he is commanded!” Beckett shot back, his usually detached and arrogant voice betraying some real aggression for the first time.

Jones’s crew muttered among themselves, both shocked and a bit intimidated. The leader of the East India Trading Company took several steps forward, his eyes boring into Jones with pure contempt.

“I already disposed of your pet,” he said softly. “I would hate to have to also dispose of you so quickly, when you might still have some use.”

Despite saying this, it was clear that Beckett felt no compassion for Jones’s life at all.

“This is no longer your world, Jones. There’s no place in this new world of ours for the immaterial. In short, the immaterial...has become immaterial. Best you learn that quickly, and fill the new role you’ve been dealt.”

Jones loathed having the two red-haired women and their battalion of Navy soldiers aboard. Although a lot of the time neither of them spoke to him, he hated having their eyes on his back and hated knowing that they as agents of Beckett’s were there to be his “leash.”

Rakepick flaunted her authority noticeably more than Carewyn did, dictating their course and openly contradicting Jones’s orders. About the only time Carewyn seemed to speak up was in response to the treatment of prisoners -- while the Flying Dutchman sailed back toward Port Royal, the Commodore frequently checked on the condition of the prisoners in the brig. One of Jones’s sailors even reported to him that he’d seen her bringing one of them a Bible on request. It was odd, considering that every single one of those prisoners was going to hang as soon as they arrived in Port Royal, unless they had “valuable information” to give. Unfortunately the only valuable information that Beckett wanted were the identities of all seven Pirate Lords, the significance of their “Pieces of Eight,” and the location of Shipwreck Cove, the last secret pirate haven on Earth -- and, to every prisoner’s credit, if any of them did know the answers to those questions, they refused to say...perhaps because they knew that it’d be the place the pirates who were able to escape the Dutchman’s attack would go.

Carewyn escorted the prisoners on shore to Port Royal, while Rakepick stayed behind with the troops aboard the Flying Dutchman. When she arrived, she met up with Percy, who had been in charge of the fort in her absence. The hangings started the very next day. A long, long line of prisoners all locked in irons pooled out of the brig and were walked one by one closer to the gallows. In groups of seven, they were sent up to the hangman’s noose -- men, women, even children -- all without trial and without any chance for mercy...all thanks to Lord Beckett, and by extension the King of England who had given him that power. It broke Carewyn’s heart standing on the sidelines with Percy, unable to do a thing to stop it.

Cutler Beckett arrived in Port Royal in the midst of the executions, looking incredibly smug. It took everything in Carewyn to not yank out her pistol and stick in his disgusting, weasel-like face...especially when he brought her and Percy away from the gallows to speak to them privately.

“I admit, Commodore...your plan has not produced the intelligence I wished for,” said Beckett as he considered the map in front of him. Once again, he was playing with a silver piece of eight absently in his right hand. “But it has been a very effective showcase of the British Empire’s new position on piracy. My proclamation would’ve lacked the proper teeth, without such a visible display.”

‘You’re despicable,’ Carewyn thought, hatred pulsing through her heart as a tiny boy was placed up on a barrel at the gallows.

“Thank you, sir,” she said lowly.

Percy glanced at the gallows too, and he winced at the sight of the boy standing on the barrel.

“It’s unfortunate that the information they offered was not useful to you, Lord Beckett,” he said, his voice betraying some hesitance. “I thought that the locations the boy provided for where the Dennis and the Andromeda make berth and the routes the Blackbird uses to plunder ships seemed promising...”

“You think too small, Captain,” said Beckett.

There was a rather arrogant gleam in his eye as he glanced from Percy to Carewyn, the piece of eight lingering between his pointer and middle finger.

“Chasing pirates one at a time would take up more resources and time than I have a desire to use. What I want is to bring order to this world -- and to do that, all pirates must be dealt with...either by being brought into line to serve our interests, or by being disposed of. And to do that, the pirates’ spirit must be decisively crushed.”

He glanced at the piece of eight between his fingers.

“...How much do you two know about the Pirate Brethren Court?”

Percy turned to Carewyn. Her eyes narrowed slightly.

“I’ve heard of it, but I’m afraid I don’t know much.”

That was a bald-faced lie. Charles Cromwell himself had been one of the original Pirate Lords ages ago, before the curse no doubt interfered with his old duties and the Mediterranean was taken over by someone else.

“They are -- from what I understand -- representatives, who only gather whenever pirates as a whole need united leadership,” said Beckett. “They are a Parliament for piracy -- one that selects a ‘King’ to represent them all, in times of crisis.”

Percy frowned in confusion. “A King chosen by the people? I’ve never heard of such a thing...”

“Pirates do not believe in divine right,” Carewyn explained. “Even when it comes to their captains, the crew can vote to replace them at any time.”

Percy turned to Beckett. “...Then do you think the pirates will attempt to convene this ‘Brethren Court,’ in response to the attack on Tortuga?”

‘That’s definitely what I hope...’ Carewyn thought to herself.

Beckett nodded. “I am assured of it.”

Carewyn’s eyes drifted away, back up to the line of chained prisoners still being forced up onto the gallows.

“If they were to convene this ‘Court’ of theirs and select a King, my Lord,” she said softly, “it sounds like they could be a greater threat than ever. Individual pirates might be more expensive to chase one at a time...but if they were somehow able to unite, they could create a formidable army.”

Beckett raised his eyebrows. “I did not think you would fear a War, Commodore.”

“Not at all,” said Carewyn. “If the British Navy could stand toe to toe with the Spanish and French, we should more than be a match for a smattering of rag-tag galleons -- especially with the funding of the East India Trading Company behind us...”

Her eyes narrowed a bit more as they swiveled over to Beckett’s face.

“...But...if you were to advocate such a mission, you’d be at the head of the charge for it. Its success or failure would rest on your head more than any of ours...regardless of any efforts we might make to protect your reputation.”

Beckett’s lips curled up in a smile that held no warmth.

“Your concern is appreciated, Commodore Weasley,” he said, and his eyes seemed to gleam upon her. “But I assure you...I’ve waited long enough, to get the revenge I’m owed...”

He turned his focus to the piece of eight coin in his hand.

“After the injuries I’ve sustained, thanks to one of these ‘Pirate Lords,’” he said in a very soft, cold voice, “I have no intention of letting them live in peace. Wherever they decide to make their final stand...I shall be there to meet and destroy them.”

He slammed the coin down into the table with a slap of his hand, making both Carewyn and Percy flinch despite themselves.

After the hangings were complete, Carewyn returned to the Flying Dutchman, once again leaving Percy in Port Royal. The youngest Weasley brother was troubled by the thought of Carewyn being on board Jones’s ship, and she tried to reassure him as best as she was able.

“Captain Jones has to follow Lord Beckett’s orders just as much as we do,” she said softly. “Regardless of who he is, he’s been impressed into our service...it wouldn’t be in his best interest, to fight against that.”

Percy, however, didn’t look very reassured. His gaze kept flickering up to the Dutchman, even though he tried hard to look Carewyn in the face.

The Commodore offered her surrogate younger brother a smile, resting a hand on his shoulder and giving it a squeeze.

“It’ll be okay,” she reassured him gently.

Percy stared at Carewyn for a long moment, his brown eyes dark with emotion. Then, very abruptly, he actually threw out his arms, grabbing hold of her and pulling her into a full hug.

“Percy?” said Carewyn, completely taken aback.

Percy didn’t say anything -- instead he just gave her a squeeze, his chin resting on her shoulder. Although he was facing away from her, Carewyn could hear a faint shakiness in the breath he took.

“Come back safely,” he mumbled, his voice harsher than normal as he tried to keep his composure. “You hear me? Come back just as you are now.”

Carewyn’s blue eyes filled with pain as she realized what was going through Percy’s head. Yes, he was scared for her safety, but it wasn’t just because he cared about her -- it was also because, with the loss of Charlie and Bill, his real brothers...she was the only family Percy had left, here in Port Royal. The only sibling he could rely on, for emotional support.

Her heart filling with compassion and affection for the young Captain, she brought her arms around Percy tightly in return, resting a hand on the back of his head and cradling it as though she were his mother.

“We will see each other again soon, Perce,” she murmured in his ear. “I promise.”

After she and Percy parted ways, Rakepick met Carewyn at the top of the ramp heading up to the deck of the Flying Dutchman. The older woman gave Carewyn another long, analytical look as she came up on deck, which Carewyn returned with a much shorter, faintly suspicious look. She didn’t like how Rakepick looked at her. It just made Carewyn feel like she knew something...but Carewyn frankly had no idea what that “something” was. One thing Carewyn did take note of, however, was the chain she wore around her neck and tucked under the low collar of her red jacket -- the chain that no doubt held the key to the Dead Man’s Chest.

That night, after all of the officers went to sleep, Carewyn entered the Dutchman’s captain’s cabin and ordered one of her lieutenants to send Davy Jones to her. Jones was not pleased to be summoned to his own cabin, least of all by the Commodore Beckett assigned to “watch” him.

“I cannot be called like some mongrel pup,” he snapped.

“Yet you came,” said Carewyn coolly. “I appreciate the promptness.”

Jones looked incredibly surly. The ginger-haired Commodore looked at her lieutenant, who was trying hard not to cower in Jones’s shadow.

“Go ahead and return to your patrol down below with the Chest, Lieutenant,” she told him. “I’ll take it from here.”

The scared young man gave a salute and then quickly left the room. Once the door was closed, Carewyn turned up at Jones with a much grimmer look on her face, her arms crossed behind her back in standard “Naval” fashion.

“...Captain Jones...Lord Beckett has ordered that we seek out Shipwreck Cove.”

Jones’s lip curled. “I believe I’ve already made it clear that I don’t know where the damned Brethren Court meets.”

“I know you don’t. And I’m glad for it.”

Jones’s eyebrows knit together suspiciously. Carewyn’s eyes flickered absently over to the door as she listened for a moment to make absolutely sure no one was listening it.

“...I don’t want Beckett to find Shipwreck Cove,” she said lowly. “I don’t want him to send Navy ships after us once we’ve found it and destroy it. Just as I frankly don’t want you under Beckett’s rule at all.”

Jones gave a loud snort. “Haha! And I suppose this is all out of the goodness of your heart, this...sympathy you deign to spare such a pathetic wretch as me?”

His eyes hardened as he bore down on her, dwarfing her with his height.

“I don’t need your pity, Carewyn Cromwell,” he said very coldly.

Carewyn was visibly taken aback.

“Oh, aye,” said Jones with a smirk, “I know your name. A ferryman of the damned knows everyone’s true names.”

Despite how taken aback and faintly disconcerted Carewyn was, however, she didn’t seem intimidated. Instead she kept her posture straight and tall and looked Jones straight in the eye.

“Then you know why I don’t want Beckett to succeed,” she said seriously. “A lot of people I love are probably on their way to Shipwreck Cove right now. As much as I know a battle will be imminent, I want them to initiate it. I don’t want Beckett to get there before they’re ready.”

“So you aim to make a deal with me, then, Miss Commodore?” asked Jones, raising an eyebrow in amusement.

“No,” said Carewyn firmly. “I just want to set you free.”

Now it was Davy Jones’s turn to look startled.

“I don’t believe in anyone being impressed into service against their will -- least of all by a captor as cruel and despicable as Cutler Beckett,” the Commodore said, feeling glad to finally let loose her bile a bit. “And if getting your heart back to you so that you can do as you please makes it that much harder for Beckett to destroy Shipwreck Cove...all the better.”

“Ah...so you think to trade my assurance that I won’t attack Shipwreck Cove for your services,” said Jones coolly. “Well, I hate to break it to you -- but I have no love for the Brethren Court myself, since they took all ownership of the seas for themselves. I daresay your dear granddaddy told you all about that...”

“‘The seas be ours and by the powers, where we will, we’ll roam’ -- yes, I know the song,” said Carewyn. “But that doesn’t matter. I’m not asking you to help the Brethren Court. I’m not asking you to help me with anything. I plan to set you free whether you want to be nice to me or not.”

Jones’s eyes narrowed as they flickered over Carewyn’s face, analyzing her critically. At last he raised his claw the way a man might raise a hand, but its size made it so it came within inches of her face.

“...Let me make sure I have this right, missie,” he said lowly. “You’re offering your assistance in restoring my heart to me...without making any sort of deal with me that benefits you?”

Carewyn nodded, not flinching at all in response to Jones’s claw getting into her personal space.

“Because you being free helps me, as it is -- by making things harder for Beckett.”

Jones considered Carewyn for a long moment. Whatever he had been expecting from the sister of Black Jack Roberts, it certainly wasn’t this. Even from a sanctimonious Navy officer, he didn’t expect this level of...well, for lack of a better word, decency...especially for someone who had showed her no kindness and she owed absolutely nothing to. He never would’ve admitted it aloud...but it impressed him.

‘Seems a bit of a shame that such a decent person should be fated for a lifetime of service aboard my ship,’ Jones thought to himself.

Perhaps because his heart was so close to him, the thought made some reluctance and guilt pick at the inside of his chest.

Pushing the feeling aside, the captain of the damned lowered his claw again. Then very, very slowly his tentacled face spread into a fuller, brighter smirk.

“...What do you have in mind?”

#potc au #au #pirates of the caribbean #my art #my writing #my fanfiction #carewyn cromwell #finn mcgarry #percy weasley #patricia rakepick #yes the dennis belongs to pirate!tulip the andromeda belongs to pirate!tonks and the blackbird belongs to pirate!merula #I cannot WAIT to introduce the pirate lords #I think that'll be the next part <3 #the concepts should be a lot of fun to draw #davy-jones!finn actually turned out pretty well I think! #though he does make carey look so very very tiny XDDD #this is what happens when 5'3 carewyn is put next to 6'2 finn LOL