Scarlett Seas (POTC Fanfic)

Chapter 1

Waves slapped against the side of the ship, rocking the vessel gently. The ocean was nothing but a huge black mirror reflecting the cloudless, star-studded sky above. A smooth breeze sliced through the crisp air like a blade, carrying with it the weathered sails of The Devil's Daughter. The serenity was so complete and the hour so late, surely everyone on board would be asleep except perhaps a guard or two. Nevertheless, a small figure could be seen leaning against the ship's rail, staring blissfully out at the water.

It was a woman, not a proper lady, surely, as she wore dark leather trousers and a tan, button-down blouse. Her dark red hair was pulled back in a simple braid that fell to just below her shoulder blades. She said nothing, did nothing, but stand there looking at the stars and the moon and the sea.

"'Ello, love," said a heavier-set man as he sauntered up to her. He smelled of alcohol and a wide, drunken smile was plastered to his face. His toothy grin showed that whatever teeth were not missing had a golden or silver crown over them. The woman's mood instantly soured, as did her expression.

"What do you want, Larson?" she asked bitterly in a thick English accent. She refused to look at him even when he leaned against the railing beside her. "If you couldn't tell, I'm out here to clear my head, not burden it with conversation."

"Oh come on, Scarlett, it's too nice a night for a pretty lass like yourself to be out here all by her lonesome."

"Yes, well, that's the point, see. I want to be left alone," she countered sarcastically.

Oliver Larson, obviously ignoring that last statement, held out a bottle of rum which was tightly clasped in his hand. "Here, 'ave a drink." Scarlett scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"No, thank you. If you think getting me drunk will make me any more talkative, you're sorely mistaken," she retorted. "You've tried enough times already I'd have figured you'd learned by now."

Larson looked at her, pouting. "It's a right bloody shame, honestly. I can't even have one delightful little conversation with my favorite lady friend without getting beaten with sarcasm and cold humor, can I?"

"Since when has any conversation with you ever been delightful?" She turned to give Larson a pointed stare.

"Hey now, there's no need to be hurtful. I actually enjoy our talks, you know," he stated. Scarlett placed a hand on her temple, massaging it in an attempt to stop the pounding headache growing behind her eyes. It did no good.

"Look, Larson, I'm really sorry, but I just have a lot of things to mull over right now. I haven't seen or heard from my brother for at least five years. Word is that the bloody genius has got himself into a heap o' trouble with the crown and is in danger of being hanged."

Larson's face suddenly took on a more sober expression. He looked out to the black water, thinking something over. When finally he turned back he said, "I'm sorry to hear 'bout your brother... If it's any consolation, me younger brother was a pirate too. I didn't want 'im to be, but sailing the seas must be in the family. He sailed under a different captain so I didn't see him much. O' course, the poor bastard had to get himself caught. They hanged him within a week of his capture. Rest o' the crew as well." His eyes were glassy, whether that be from the alcohol or from tears that he was fighting to keep back Scarlett didn't know.

"I'm very sorry," she replied quietly. She'd often wondered to herself if her and her brother would meet death in that same way. A few tears did slip down Larson's cheek before Scarlett gently tugged on his arm. Larson was the only person that Scarlett even remotely considered a friend. Even in the year she'd spent on board The Devil's Daughter, Larson was all she had.