What Would You Do? *1*

Author: Pilgrim
Title: What Would You Do?
Rating: NC-17 by the end possibly sooner depends on how the story progresses again
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the PotC characters or movies (unfortunately); anything you recognize isn’t mine (god damn them to hell!) Before anyone asks yes, Oria is mine who else could have thought up such a creature?
Feedback: Please! First time fan fiction writer and desperate for tips, tricks, advice, stuff me full of info please! I want to improve and take over the world with my genius mwhahaha! Lol, only kidding but feedback would be fantastic, send it to raukarwen_deomene@yahoo.com or review!
Notes: So far unread, so really need feedback on it.

Chapter 8 - Lull Before The Storm

Oria turned sharply on the ship ignoring the task she had been set to. Barbossa was by her instantly, her face was turned into the wind, it had changed suddenly.

“The medallion… it’s to the East.” He smiled and was about to go and order the hands into action when her hand gripped his arm tightly, “Port Royal, its’ heavily armed, we don’t want to arrive during the day. There’s no need to rush, the cover of mist and night will increase their terror and decrease our chances of taking damage.” Barbossa nodded and ordered the steady pace to Port Royal. He didn’t notice she was still listening to the wind, searching desperately for any sign that it was Will that bore the pendant.

None came; she turned back to her task silently. She would know soon enough as would most of the crew, they were just as edgy to end the curse, they could sense the gold also. It was calling to them, beckoning in silence yet as loud as the hurricane winds.

:/

Barbossa stepped out of his cabin and gazed calmly over the deck of the Pearl, it was decked in shadow and the dark shroud of night, an eerie sight if you weren’t used it. A crew of wasted, rotten skeletons, he glanced down at his own hand, just another wasted skeletal hand. His gaze returned to the deck, it would soon be corrected, his eyes rested on the only solid figure. He stepped up to where Oria was leaning on the side of the ship.

“Can you still hear it?” She nodded slowly, it was still there beckoning silently for her to come and claim it.

“Aye, Captain and so can the crew. They want to get going.” Barbossa frowned slightly.

“You said it would be best to go under the cover of darkness.” She turned and faced him slowly; she looked strange in the moonlight. Her usually tanned skin was an almost deathly pallor; her eyes seemed sunken and darkened as if they had seen millenniums pass. He knew of her curse, knew the years she had seen were not reflected in her body.

“Aye and I stick to that comment Captain. We do not attack until night fall. The cannons are already primed and ready, we fire as we enter. Give them no chance to prepare.” He nodded; he loved the way she thought these things through.

“Like your family did once, it worked then and it’ll work with us.” She smiled remembering the destruction her family had wrought on the calm port once when it was newly settled. There were still reminders in the stone face they were anchored near; Barbossa was gazing at it now. Deeply imbedded in the rock was a symbol blasted into the rock by cannons long ago. She followed his gaze up to the shadowy silhouettes.

“I heard each member of your family had it, the three scars, on the right hand side for females and left for males.” He leered down at her, “There’s one that always fascinated me, apparently it was a popular name at the time… Oria. Supposed to have been the most powerful, most beautiful and most deadly even for one of them. More than a few men were heralded to have lost their lives because of her. How many was it you killed? One hundred, two hundred?” Oria lowered her gaze; she was still in the perpetual rebounding doubt of whether she should be proud of her past or not.

“Four hundred souls in total to Davy Jones’ locker.” She turned and stalked away lost in thoughts about her past. Barbossa followed her with his eyes staring, there was much to the woman he still had to learn, he knew the legends. But there was always more to learn, legends were only one half of the tale.

:/

Jack tried to close his eyes again; he had a corker of a headache and a hell of a good bruise from the rum bottle on the back of his head from the blacksmiths’ attack. He had been granted the sweet pleasure of keeping his hat and used it to shield his eyes from the glaring, flickering candles. The whistling started up again shattering any semblance of thought and sending his abused brain into a cataclysm of pain.

“Come here boy! Want a nice juicy bone? Come on, come on boy.” Jack didn’t even shift in his position, it was too painful just listening never mind moving.

“You can keep doing that forever, the dog is never going to move.” It was true, the dog was still led perfectly happy with the cold steel loop of metal in its’ mouth. Jack shifted his hat lower and dragged his jacket about him more comfortably. The other prisoners glared at him, a particularly grubby looking one spoke rather coldly to him.

“Oh well excuse us if we haven’t resigned ourselves to the gallows just yet.” Jack gave a half-hearted chuckle and shifted his hat lower, neither had he but he wasn’t about to share that information. Something always came up… usually… hopefully, a quiver of fear which he quickly banished. Jack leapt up from his perch on the small ledge a few moments later with a faint grin and dragged himself up to look out of the barred window.

“I know those guns!” He skidded slightly as he rushed to stand and gaze out of the barred windows, “It’s the Pearl.” The prisoners pressed themselves against the bars between their cells nervously.

“The Black Pearl? I’ve heard stories; she’s been preying on ships and settlements for nearly ten years. Never leaves any survivors.” Jack smiled and gazed back at them with a broad grin and laugh, joy was running through him, this was his first sighting since it had sailed away from him all those years ago.

“No survivors? The where do the stories come from I wonder?” The prisoners looked at each other puzzled.

:/

Barbossa quickly briefed his crew and they launched off in the row boats, the second the boats were ashore the pirates poured out. Oria stood in the centre, Pintel and Ragetti on either side and slightly behind as she cried out orders of searching. She paused to watch as the pirates ran off to search out maids and treasure; she glanced over her shoulder at Ragetti and Pintel.

“We’re going after that medallion.” They nodded nervously and followed her along the streets the other pirates removing any opposition in their way. They walked as if royalty in an aura of peace but surrounded by bloody carnage. One man ran forwards wielding a sword and charged Oria; she drew a dagger and stabbed him absent-mindedly without missing a stride, he fell to the ground. She paused as she saw something that chilled her to the bone ahead; a very familiar young man had just thrown a hatchet into the back of a pirate trying desperately to ravish some maid, the girl ran away screaming.

The boy turned and she faltered again, William stood staring at her, he wouldn’t recognise her, she hadn’t aged and in the half-light could be mistaken for a man with her hair swept up. She turned and carried on regardless, the lad still staring after her curiously, she now knew he wasn't the one with the pendant; it was beckoning her strongly from another direction but he was the one with the blood. The governors’ house stretched out before them, luxuriously sprawled over several acres.

“Get some men to knock down this gate.” Pintel and Ragetti ran off and returned with nearly ten pirates. The golden gates were easily opened serving more for decoration than to keep people out and they walked on up to the door unhindered. Oria stopped anyone from banging it as she pointed to Pintels’ gun; he drew it and primed it, “Let’s do this like civilised people.” They laughed as she smirked and knocked gently before stepping aside with a mock bow for Pintel who held the pistol out ready to fire, a butler opened the door as a girl screamed from inside for him not to.

“Hello chump.” Pintel fired off the gun and the man fell lifelessly to the floor, Oria walked in first while Pintel prepared his pistol again with an evil cackle.

“Have fun chaps, Pintel, Ragetti that pendant is in this house somewhere… find it and bring the wearer to me.” They laughed and ran off up the stairs the medallion Elizabeth was wearing calling to them strongly. A hand grasped Oria’s arm tightly and spun her to face them, an official looking man stood behind her with his sword raised, he faltered as the moonlight bathed her face.

“You’re a woman!” Oria rolled her eyes and drew her pistol.

“Pirate actually.” She whispered before shooting him cleanly through the head, he fell back lifelessly; Oria poked his lifeless body with her boots toe curiously. Elizabeth turned and fled back up the steps and locked her door behind her rapidly, a terrified scream was torn from her throat as someone grasped her arms.

“Miss Swann! They’ve come to kidnap you…” Elizabeth stared down at Estella disbelievingly.

“What?” She gripped Elizabeth’s arms more tightly and dragged her away from the door.

“You’re the Governors’ daughter!” Elizabeth stared at her dumbly before the adrenaline kicked in.

“They haven’t seen you, hide and the first chance you get run to the fort.” The door shattered as Pintel and Ragetti burst in, Elizabeth swung the bed pan at them as Estella ran past them. She fled down the steps and ran straight into the pirate stood at the front door. She bounced backwards from the unyielding figure and gazed up fearfully, the pirate knelt in front of her, its’ head cocked to one side curiously, and Estella found herself gazing at either the most handsome man she had ever seen or a woman of exotic beauty. The pirate was watching her reaction with a curious look in their eyes.

“Well are you going to apologise for running into me? Or should I let one of the men take that apology from you?” Estella shook her head fearfully.

“Please… please let me past.” The woman dragged her back to her feet harshly gripping her arms.

“Why? What is in it for me?” Estella gasped for breath fearfully as the woman continued quietly after a brief pause, “Go and tell your Commodore that the Governors’ house is under attack, tell him history is repeating itself.” The girl backed up as she recognised the face, there were portraits of her family and few children knew of them.

“You’re… you’re…” The girl smiled evilly and mimicked her whimpered response.

“I’m… I’m…” She stepped up to the maid closely and traced her fingers around her jaw, “The last living relation of the family De Monara. Go tell him that, go tell him I’m right here in the Governor’s house.” The strangely gentle gesture of the fingers trailing down the side of Estella’s face far more threatening than anything else the pirate could have done. It spoke of craziness, an unstableness that resided in her very soul to combine beauty with horror and gentleness with threat. The maid paled visibly, the girl grasped her arm and threw her out of the door, “Tell him or lose your life.”

Oria pulled out a double barrelled pistol and fired at the girls’ feet, she bounded up and ran. Oria smiled and re-sheathed her pistol; at last the world would remember what pirates really are, what they used to be or at least Port Royal would. She glanced up as a girl of about twenty ran down the steps and froze as she saw the way out was barred. A cannon fired straight across in front of Oria and hit a pirate stood in front of the dining room holding a heap of golden ornaments.

Elizabeth glanced up as the chandelier began to fall and ran across the floor just as the crystals smashed and barricaded herself in the dining room with a candelabra. Pintel and Ragetti were hot on her heels, Oria realised she was the one with the medallion and followed as they broke open the door. They were heading towards the open window when Oria called out.

“No, she’s till in this room, somewhere. She hasn’t left.” Pintel looked around the room for any sign of a hiding place.

“We know you’re here poppet.” Ragetti giggled like a girl.

“Poppet, poppet.” Oria rolled her eyes and scanned the opposite side of the room, Pintel called out softly.

“Come out and we promise we won’t hurt you.” Ragetti glared at him, Pintel smiled and Ragetti grinned and placed a finger to his lips, “We will find you poppet. You’ve got something of ours, and it calls to us.” Elizabeth glanced down at the pendant against her bosom as the light slowly faded; Pintel was looking through the hole, “’Ello poppet.” He opened the door easily.

“Parley!” They both froze.

“What?” Pintel glared at her stupidly.

“Parley. I invoke the right of parley. According to the Code of the brethren set down by the pirates Morgan and Bartholomew, you have to take me to your Captain.” Pintel uncocked his gun.

“I know the code.” Elizabeth continued regardless.

“If an adversary invokes the right of parley you can do them no harm until the parley is complete.” Ragetti stepped forward threateningly.

“To blazes with the Code.” Pintel shouted at him loudly.

“She wants to be taken to the Captain! And she’ll go without a fuss. We must honour the code.” They reached in to drag her out of the cupboard.

“Not unless she is the one we want, bring her to me.” Pintel and Ragetti dragged her from the cupboard and stood her to face Oria. She regarded her intently, the girl looked nothing like Bootstrap but she was suitable enough cover. Another aristocrat, her blood was expendable; in Oria’s opinion aristocrats were only good news to anyone if they were dead.

“Excuse me darling.” She reached inside her bodice for the pendant; Ragetti looked thrilled while Elizabeth squirmed until the pendant was drawn out. Oria gazed at it, Wills’ pendant lay in her hands, was this girl his fiancé? She had no idea, but in her opinion her blood was infinitely better to be spilt than Wills’, “Nice trinket there pet. Good bargaining tool…” Elizabeth looked at her surprised.

“You’re a woman?” Oria chuckled.

“Not quite, I’m a pirate. Subtle but definite difference.” Elizabeth stared as Oria nodded to Pintel and Ragetti to take her to the Pearl. Oria had other things on her mind, she had to warn Will or just determine whether he was alive or not after the attack. Turning sharply she sought out the place where she had seen him last, after nearly five minutes walking she determined that she was lost once more. Walls were not her thing she decided; open expanses of water and the small confines of a ship fine, but stone walls and towns gave her the heebie-jeebies.