Stranger Redemption (Davy Jones x Female OC)

XV - Part III

Soldiers flood the ship. Guns drawn. The crew stands firmly waiting for explanation or orders from Jones. Whatever comes first. Simply staring back at the intruding force. The Dutchman's crew, obviously, the much more intimidating side but even scary looking pirates don't compare to the fear that power and stature bring. At least not to the British army.

Davy tears through the crowd of his crew. Anya right behind him. The chest is there held between two soldiers. Anya's eyes glue to it. Wheels in her mind spinning too fast, she feels they might break away and fly from her head.

"Go, all of you. And take that infernal thing with you." He spits. "I will not have it on my ship!"

Davy stands facing down a new figure. Anya notices how differently this man carries himself. Still like a soldier but with something different in his eyes.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that." The mocking voice appears. "Because I will. Because it seems to be the only way to ensure that this ship do as directed by the company." Beckett gestures. The chest is led past them by the new man and the soldiers carrying it.

"We need prisoners to interrogate. Which tends to work best when they're alive."

"The Dutchman sails, as it's Captain commands."

"And it's Captain is to sail it as commanded."

Davy's head snaps towards him but he pulls it back. Another snort sounds. The crew gasps behind them at the audacity of Beckett's words and tone.

Beckett steps forward. "I would've thought you learned that when I ordered you to kill your pet."

Anya carefully grasps Davy's arm in an attempt to calm him.

"This is no longer your world, Jones." Beckett continues. "The immaterial has become immaterial."

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The chest had been dropped into the organ room. Several guards standing with their rifles pointed into the lifted lid. The click of the guns can be heard from outside the door. Where Anya tucks herself away. Watching as Beckett proudly commanded them to shoot at the first sign of defiance.

_______________________

It had been a couple of days since Bootstrap Bill was found mumbling to himself in the hold. A place he seemed to draw too often when he's not lucid. Which was becoming more often than not. It saddens Anya. She knew such a thing would happen one of these days. She just hadn't expected it so soon. Unlike most members of the crew, Bootstrap was still in his own liftime. She stood outside the cell, fingers wrapped around the bars. Trying to coax an old friend back towards the light of his sanity. It's no use. And Anya has more to worry about with Davy than anyone else right now.

She twists and turns with her sword, on the top deck between Penrod and Palifico under a stormy sky. She knows her form is pathetic, but she suspects they're letting her win. Which normally she would detest but secretly appreciates right now.

"Your footwork needs stronger hold."

The voice jolts Anya's attention to her side, stopping her movements completely.  The crew memebers nearby also snap their gazes towards the unwelcome voice. His eyes widen but more in the fear that he might of offended Anya judging by the look she gives him.  Than in fear of the pirates who stares him down. 

"Excuse me?" Her words bite.

"I'm sorry. May I?"

He steps forward. Anya steps back cautiously at his brazen approach.  And every one of the crew who are watching step forward to protect Anya.  Finally, his eyes glance around, taking note of the protective crew before they settle on Anya once again.

He carefully draws his own sword. One he holds with clear pride. "What, Mr. Palifico has failed to teach you is, that once your feet are pointed, you must hold them to the ground." He shows by example. Swiping his sword in a few directions with his feet firmly planted on the deck. "To strengthen your strikes." He smiles, actually smiles! He cheekily holds his weapon up towards Anya, taking on a sparring stance.

Anya tries not to show her emotions on her face. She's angry that he's right. Palifico had shown her such a thing. She just wasn't paying attention this time.

Eh, what the hell. She thinks.

Anya takes her stance in front of him. She's the first to strike. A predictable move because she's angry. But she doesn't care if he sees it coming. He doesn't know what she's capable of from what he's observed.

Norrington is indeed surprised by her strength and skill, but he can see she's been taught with a great deal of forgiveness. "Don't strike and move your feet at the same time. It's slowing you down." He instructs.

Well, there's an idea. Anya quickly puts his advice into action and advances on him quickly. Norrington backs away just as quick. She keeps him moving backward, which helps her keep the advantage. Until he manages to turn her at the wall of the ship. In her anger, she had gotten them both into a corner that he was able to turn her into. And unlike her gentle crew, he does not let her win. He strikes his sword just short of her neck. Signifying his victory. Before sheathing the weapon with a grin.

He extends his hand toward her. "James Norrington."

A howl errupts from above them. Anya doesn't have to look, like Norrington does, to know who it's from. Mismatched steps descend the stairs quickly.

"What'yer think yer doing?" Davy leans into Norrington's space. Who doesn't back down in the slightest.

"The Commodore was helping me improve my sparring skills." She interrupts. Surprising Norrington and stealing Davy's attention.

Davy scoffs, "He almost took your head off!"

Anya rolls her eyes. Oh, please. Norrington's a soldier, trained to fight. "If he was intending to take my head off, he would've."

Davy glances at Anya shocked and uncertain. But she simply nods back at him. A nod he knows to mean she's truly okay. So he sneers at Norrington once more before walking away.

Anya had turned away, sheathing her sword and almost completely forgetting about Norrington's presence in the short time it'd taken.

"You hadn't given me a name, Miss?"

Anya decides to be cordial. Having not as awful a feeling about this soldier as she has the others. She turns back around again. "Anya." She's sure he knew that. But he seems to be attempting to show some sort of manners in this strange introduction.

He takes her hand to shake it like a true civilized gentleman.  When he lets go is when his brows crinkle curiously. "May I ask, why do you choose to be here?"

She wants to be offended by his question. But his honest tone tells her he is simply and genuinely curious.

She lets her guard drop for a moment to answer him honestly, "I'm home." She simply responds. But then leans in and with a colder tone and asks, "Why are you here, Commodore Norrington?"

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A/N: Well would you look at that, I don't like this chapter either lol. This one will also get edited at some point.

Also, just 3 chapters left :'(