What was supposed to be a oneshot story ended up having two chapters after all... Ah well. It's not likely to grow anymore. ;) Have fun!

Calypso was lying on the seabed. She watched fish go by, she saw the sea weed flow with the water. Everything was calm and peaceful. The gentle hum of the ocean filled her ears. She was floating along the waves. She felt every current beneath her, next to her and above her. She extended her arms and let the water carry her. She was one with the sea, she was the sea and the sea was her. There was nothing in between.

The joy she felt was beyond human understanding. No one else in the entire world could understand her because there was no one else like her. The others might sail upon the waves, they might swim in the ocean and sink into the depths, but no one else could ever become the sea. No one could feel the bliss she felt as her mind drifted with the current and her form changed and stopped being.

No one could understand. Some could come close but never fully understand. Few had come close... Her relaxed thoughts drifted to Davy Jones. He had come so close. His mind worked in ways she couldn't always comprehend. He was different from others. Something in him was different. His soul was as stormy as the waves were; his nature had the harshness of the grey surface and in his eyes she could see the endless depths of the abyss. Yet he hadn't understood how she felt towards the sea. He had come close, oh yes, so close. But his love for the sea was different. She was the sea. He loved her. Thus he loved the sea, but not the way she did. Her love for the waves was eternal, permanent and deep. For there is no greater love than the love of oneself. He loved the sea through her, not for what the sea really was. No one could ever understand what the sea truly was.

Yet she loved him. She loved him dearly, truly and honestly. The sea would forever remain her first love but he had taken hold of her soul the way no one had ever done. For him she had been willing to grant the gift of immortality. Or the curse of it.

Calypso had stopped being whole. She was in every wave, in every current, in every tide. She felt comfortable and peaceful. Nothing, nothing in the world or beyond it could be this sweet. It was more than serene. It was peace beyond words.

Vaguely her shattered mind recalled that it had been ten years since she had departed with Davy. Ten years today. The sun was rising but she gave it no heed. Her relaxed state of mind didn't let anything disturb her. That moment was everything and everything was in that moment. What else could she hope for?

He'll come again, she thought. After all, what is another ten years next to eternity?

- - -

After a week of calm drifting along the waves Calypso decided to pull herself together and leave the relaxing waters – for now. She would have stayed longer but something pulled her away. She didn't know what it was but something had changed. The peace of the sea wasn't the same. She turned into a sea gull and flew up, up to the clouds. She soared above the ocean and admired it's blue colour. Then she decided to visit the island which she and Davy had spent so many days together. Perhaps he had left her a message.

She soared down and turned into a current once again. She enjoyed the speed she could travel with and reached the island soon. She went ashore in the form she usually took among humans. Her white dress flowed behind her as she walked.

The beach was empty. She went to the rock Davy had once stood upon, looking so noble and majestic. On the day she had made up her mind. The cliff was empty as well. She found no messages. There wasn't even a sight of anyone being there.

Then she heard it. She listened carefully. What was it? Silent sound, like someone hammering slowly. The sound was oddly familiar and yet she couldn't quite recognize it. She listened intensely. And then it hit her.

Heart beats.

Calypso was puzzled. She had never heard human heart beats from so far away. And she could see no one. Was there someone else? She started walking towards the sound; along the shore. She heard the beats more clearly as she walked further. She arrived to a place where the beats could be heard stronger than before. She looked around. There was no one there. She looked down. The sand looked like someone had dug it recently.

Calypso knelt down. Her own heart was beating with the sound. She started to dig. Her fingers hit a wooden chest after she had been at it for some time. She lifted it up. It was rather heavy but her strength wasn't the same as human females'.

The beats got stronger. A tight rope was wrapped around her own heart, so it seemed. She dreaded the insides of the wooden chest but she opened it nonetheless.

Another chest. She recognized it at once. It was the same chest she had showed him long ago, the one where the medallions had been. She touched her medallion, which was hanging from her neck. She placed one hand on the chest and withdrew it immediately. She could feel it. She could feel the heart beating slowly. She could hear it; it filled her ears. It was locked and the key was gone.

Calypso closed the lid of the wooden box and turned away. She stumbled a little further and collapsed on her knees.

What have you done? She thought incredulously. Oh, my sweet, what have you done to yourself... Tears escaped her eyes and she felt horrible. She could still hear his heart beating; she remembered those numerous times she had lain with her head against his chest. Why? She thought. Why did he do it? How could he? Deep inside her she knew the answer. She hadn't been there. But she thought he'd understand. He of all people. He should have understood.

She turned to look at the wooden chest again. What should she do? He was bound to have the key. But what if someone found the chest? The thought made her sick. No one must ever find it, she thought and ran to the village.

She returned with pieces of parchment. They were quite torn but she managed to fix them. She wrote on them with water; it turned black when it met the parchment. Spells she wrote on them. She made sure that no one but him and she or those on her command could find the chest. She thought it was wise. She thought of his best. She needed to be able to find it if need be. Something gave her the feeling.

She wrote many scrolls and put them inside the wooden box. They covered the chest but they did not mum the sound. She wept. How could he? Her head pounded with the sound of his heart beats. His eyes haunted her vision and his scent drifted to meet her. How could he...

She covered the chest with sand. No one was to find it. Never. It was his. It was hers.

She stood up and faced the ocean. Wind blew in her hair and at that moment she sensed the difference she had felt earlier more clearly than ever. The waves had turned grey in her eyes. She could still feel the tender rush of the water but it wasn't the same. The sea wasn't hers anymore. She had lost a part of it. Small part, perhaps, but she felt it and it grieved her. She laid her hand on the water surface and was devastated to learn that the water didn't feel so familiar anymore. It was her sea, she knew it was, it had always been. Yet it wasn't familiar anymore.

Calypso swallowed. What was going on? Why couldn't she feel the waves like before? What had happened? Why had she lost contact with the dearest of all loves? She collapsed at the tide line and cried. It was new to her. It was new to feel abandoned, alienated. Betrayed.

The Flying Dutchman sailed forth.