Disclaimer: Despite my best efforts, Pirates of the Caribbean and everything associated with it still does not belong to me. I don't even have Davy Jones anymore; the Disney execs came and stole him back
I'm so sorry for leaving you guys hanging this long!
--dodges various sharp pointy objects thrown by angry readers--
Band camp has kept me occupied for the past few weeks, and, combined with my habit of being a world class procrastinator, writing the finale for this story took me quite a bit longer than expected.
--ducks again--
Also, a special thanks to everyone who reviewed. You guys are what keep me going
With a wrenching effort, blue eyes opened to meet the azure sky above, where a few wispy clouds flitted along with the gentlest of breezes. A hand, brown and familiar, reached down to caress his face.
His eyes fluttered closed again, lost in the touch that was of the sea. She was exactly as he had remembered; she was the wind, capricious to the core. She was the sea, her lifeblood the waters of the ocean that flowed through her veins.
And now, they were together again.
Sitting up, he took her hand in his, gently returning her caress.
"How?"
He voiced the query somewhat hesitantly, as if unsure of the reality of it all.
She looked at him, her gaze piercing his icy blue eyes.
"How could mean many things, Davy Jones," she said, rising from her spot next to him.
All traces of her human accent were gone when she spoke. Now her voice carried the lilt of the sea, bespoke of waves breaking against the shore. A great power was woven into her voice, a power laced with elegance and destruction, yet as fickle as the tides.
"Perhaps," she said, "you wonder how you came to be here, when you were so obviously dead? Or, possibly," she continued, "your question entails how it is that I came to be free after so long, how I escaped the mortal bonds to which you confined me?"
As she spoke, her tone grew angrier, her eyes darkened. The wind picked up, gusting about them at rapid speeds as the sky above grew darker, clouds forming to obscure the sun from view.
"Maybe, though, the question should be why." Calypso strode to the surf and looked out upon the darkened waves. "Why did you choose to betray me, to betray my secrets to the Brethren? Why did you cut out your heart?" Her voice rose with barely supressed anger, and lightning flickered across the sky.
She paused.
"Why did I betray you?" she asked softly.
She seemed to be talking more to herself now than to him. Her voice lost its angry tone, became less harsh. The sky above mimicked her dwindling fury, and the brewing storm dissipated into a few puffy clouds dancing across the sky with a mild breeze.
The swell of her power faded until it was a mere shadow of what it had been only minutes before.
"It was love, Davy Jones. How, why, it was because I loved you." Her face was calm, devoid of all emotion, but her eyes gave her away, revealed the Calypso that he had come to know and love all those years before.
It was that look that unraveled him.
"You should not." His voice, hoarse from neglect, was laced with long-suppressed loathing; it was not only directed towards her, but towards himself as well.
"All the things I did, all the people I killed; I was a monster. I thought you didn't love me, had forgotten me; the pain that caused me was too great, and I hid behind the beast that I made myself into."
He stared at the sand, fists clenched, lost in his self-hatred and regret.
Calypso smiled softly, a smile filled with years of suffering, and lowered herself to sit beside him.
"It is not always the choices we make, but what comes of them," she said, taking his hand in hers. "Sometimes, even though the choice may be wrong, the resulting effect is even greater than what was hoped for."
When she spoke, she directed her words not only at him, but at herself as well, sure of her words and the power she held; nonetheless, she was convincing herself as much as she was him.
He looked at her, really looked, and saw the Calypso that had long been hidden; the Calypso who had loved him, and who he, in turn, had loved.
He saw the danger of her, the intensity that radiated from her person, capturing the attention of those caught unaware, dragging them under like the fiercest of waves.
She was deadly, but he was hers, body and soul. He always had been, from their very first meeting.
Despite the chaos that had come of their mutual betrayals, he still loved her, and she him.
And that was all that mattered to them.
She reached up and took his face in her hands, caressing it, reveling in the fact that it was whole, it was human, and it was hers. For the first time in many a year, Calypso smiled, truly smiled, and the sea smiled with her.
The waters of the ocean were thrown into sharp relief, glittering with unsurpassed beauty as the blinding sun met the tranquil blue sea.
Davy Jones and Calypso stood there, gazes locked, oblivious to all but themselves.
The waves lapped at their feet as they embraced, lost in each other, in their moment of reunion. After all this time, they were together at last. The sea was no longer soulless, as it once had been.
They were two halves of a whole; he was her other half, the one she hadn't noticed she was missing until they had met. From that moment, she knew that there was something different about him. He intrigued her, something no mortal had accomplished.
He did not delude himself into thinking that he could control her, for she was the sea, and thus untamable, but he could sway her choices. She listened to him, respected him; he was her equal in many ways, and she loved him for it.
Even after he had betrayed her, when each was trying to forget the other, they still remembered. All of his thoughts were centered around her, try as he might to alter them.
He understood her, knew her, and he was the only one to have ever done so.
Now, as they stood together, it could not be any clearer that they were made for each other. True he had been a mortal, and she was a goddess, but it mattered not to them.
They were both of the sea.
Now, push the pretty button. You know you want to.