A Note from the Author:

I first wrote this story when I was thirteen years old. While at the time I was proud of my work, reading through it again killed me. I saw so many opportunities that I didn't take and how flat the plot and character developments were. Selesta was a Mary Sue: everything worked out oh-so-well for her, and she never had to work for anything. Therefore, I have decided to put my favorite character through true trials and tribulations by re-writing her story. Poor thing.

If you are a former reader, welcome back! If you are new, carry on and do not be swayed by what my story used to be. I promise it's much better now (I hope, anyway). Fair warning: it will probably get a bit more mature in this version. And yes, it may have historical inaccuracies or incorrect speech for the time period, but it's just my attempt at fanfiction.

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy. Just like in the old days, rum and cookies to those who review! I really appreciate the feedback on my work. I realize that it's a little boring here, but I've got to get the background story in. Bear with me and it'll be more interesting soon!

"John-Paul, I'm flattered. Really, I am." I fought back the urge to snort in derision. "But like I've said so many times before, I'm not ready for this sort of thing yet." I took a step away from him, edging closer to my door. Take a hint, you insolent fool, and learn the word 'no!' "Please, try to understand."

"Selesta, my dear, you're far too old to tell me that you haven't considered courting." He took a few steps toward me, stumbling on the uneven stone path. "You'll die an old maid if you keep rejecting the idea like this. You can only play hard-to-get for so long before I'll begin to lose interest." He smirked, his ugly snout wrinkling up in appreciation of his own humor and annoyance that I wouldn't comply to him. "You should be honored that I'm even looking at you. You're so far below my social class." His chest puffed out arrogantly.

Self-important pig. I rolled my eyes.

"Besides, just think of everything you'd achieve by marrying me. A mansion, a fortune, and you'd never have to lift your pretty little hand in labor again." At this he grabbed my hand and held my fingers to his lips. I was instantly repulsed by the moist breath I felt on them. "You'd have everything that a girl could ever want. Everything your father cannot give you. And think about how good you'll look on my arm at all the parties." His eyes glossed over as he thought about it. I can only imagine what sick thoughts about me must have passed through his mind.

"Maybe that isn't what I want, John-Paul." I jerked my hand out of his grasp. "It's like you don't even know me." My voice rose in anger as I lost all sense of decorum. "Get out of here. Go find yourself a girl who will play along with your games. I've already told you, John-Piss—I won't. Now leave me alone!" With that, I spun on my heel, marched inside my house, and slammed the door in his face. Annoyed beyond reason, I ran up the stairs and threw my bag into my room with all the force I could manage. "The absolute cheek of that boy!" I fumed, pacing in the hallway. "Who does he think he is to treat me like that?"

"What did he do this time?" I jumped as my father suddenly appeared in the doorway, a bandage wrapped around his arm.

"What are you doing home?" I asked, catching my breath. "And what's wrong with your arm? I thought you were supposed to be on the ship, helping to load up for the next voyage. What did you do this time, Father?"

"Nothing." He looked away from my eyes. "Just a small disagreement while working."

"Father! Another fight?" My jaw dropped as I shook my head. "I can't believe you. With the way you and the rest of the crew behave, a person would think you all were pirates!" I buried my face in my pillow, now angry and annoyed at him. "Why can't you all just behave? You're grown men for god-sakes!"

"We don't like to behave." He laughed, sitting down by my feet. "And I've been a bachelor for too long. I've lost my ability to behave without a lady around."

"Thanks a lot!" I frowned, sitting up. "What does that make me? Chopped liver?"

"Oh, hush. You call me a pirate, I call you a tomboy. Fair's fair. Now, tell me all about your little boyfriend." He joked, his usual smile coming back to his face. "Should I be worried that you'll run off and get married within the week?" I groaned and buried my face back into the pillow.

"This isn't funny!" I yelled, my voice muffled. "That prick is perverted and creepy. He won't leave me alone!" I rolled over to look at my father. "And why me, anyway? You're just a merchant sailor. Why can't the bloody Magistrate's son go bother the higher class? If I wanted to court him, I would have done it already."

"Your mother was eighteen when we were married, you know. You're just a year younger-not too young, if there's anyone you've got your eye on. Her father hated it, and I would, too. But I'd make an exception if you were happy." He said, resentment in his voice. He clearly hated the idea.

"You can't get rid of me that easily." I smirked, putting him at ease. "She was pregnant with me by age nineteen. That's not the life she wanted, and it's not the life I want either. I can barely handle myself as I am; I don't need little brats running around, too." I flopped back down onto my pillow, thinking angrily about men. "I mean, why me, Father?" I asked. "Why can't he follow another girl around and just leave me the bloody hell alone?"

"You're the most beautiful girl in town, and he knows it. He can't help but to chase you. None of the boys can. I would be worried about losing you if it wasn't for the fact that you detest every last one of them and have left your mark on more than a few." He laughed.

"Well, they're all idiots. But shut-up with the compliments. You're my father." I groaned, standing up. "You have to say that garbage. I want a real answer!" I walked around my room, kicking my dirty clothing and stuff out of the way to form a path. I need to pace when I'm angry.

"That is a real answer." He frowned, his eyes following me around the room. "And just so you know, as your father, I'm supposed to tease you, not inflate your ego. So if I was giving a real fatherly answer, I'd say that it was your warm and sparkling personality that drew him to you. Or that you must have captured his heart with your lady-like charms. Some obscene rubbish like that."

"You're evil. You are absolutely the most horrible father on the face of this Earth."

"Oh, I am not. We're the worse father-daughter pair I've ever met. No one bickers like we do." He grinned, and I couldn't help but laugh a bit, too. "I suppose we can't help it. We've been without your mother for too long."

"You've become a helpless bachelor forced to listen to your teenage daughter's problems and I a tomboy, forced to go to my father for advice. What would she do with us if she could see us now?" I grinned and walked back to my bed, sitting down next to my father.

"She would be grateful that you weren't a lacy, fluffed-up snob." He put his arm around me and pulled me into a hug. "You're just like her, you know. That brown hair, your green eyes." He smiled. "Your free-spirit. The only thing you got from me is a temper."

"Thanks for that, by the way." I laughed, rolling my eyes.

"Yes, well. Clean up this mess and get ready to go out. I'm sure you don't feel like cooking today, so we're going out for dinner and drinks." He dropped his eye contact. "There's a lot I feel like we need to talk about tonight."

"That's never a good sign." I joked, though the look on his face was quite serious. "What is it?" I asked, growing curious and a bit worried. "We can talk about it now, Father."

"Later. Don't worry! It's nothing." He said quickly, leaving my room.

"Yea, right. Nothing always means something."

"How do all of these people know you, Father?" I asked, taking another sip of my ale. "This is a rough crowd and yet you seem to know everyone. It's like you have another life you've been hiding from me." I laughed. But my father didn't join in as I thought he would. "What's wrong? Why are you so serious all of a sudden? We're supposed to be celebrating my lack of interest in men." I nudged him with my elbow, trying to get a response. Nothing. I sighed. "I'm guessing this 'talk' isn't going to be very pleasant."

"You're right. Selesta Rose, go sit down over there." He sighed, oddly formal, as he slapped the necessary coins on the bar.

"Yes sir." I joked. "Why so formal, Mr. Merrigue?"

"I just...we do need to talk about some things and I don't think you're going to be very happy with me." We sat down in a corner seat at the back of the tavern. He took a deep breath an started talking again. "When you were born, your mother and I wanted to give you a name that fit with our own lives. We knew you were special and we wanted a name to go with that."

"I know. You chose Selesta from the color celeste...like the ocean, since you met and fell in love on the sea. I've heard the story a million times." I shrugged, wondering where he was going with this.

"Right, well..." He took a shaky breath.

"Father, just tell me. What on earth is such a big deal that you're acting like this? Just tell me. I'm a big girl, I can handle it." I hid my shaking hands in my lap and fought the urge to get up and walk around. He was scaring me with all this hesitation.

"Selesta...your mother wasn't the well-behaved Vicar's daughter that she used to tell you about. She was restless and wild...like you." He paused to smile slightly. "When she was your age, she ran away from home. She used to say it was stuffy and inhibiting with her parents. She stowed away on a ship and I later met her in an undesirable circumstance. I...am not a merchant sailor, Selesta." He looked deep into my eyes, imploring me to figure it out so that he wouldn't have to say it.

"I don't understa..." And then it hit me. I froze as my blood went cold. "But then...you must...but you can't be a..." My tongue stuck on the word. A pirate? My own father? It can't be! "All these years and you never saw fit to tell your own daughter?" My voice cracked with emotion.

"I never knew how to tell you. Your mother knew, but wanted to tell you when you were older. And when she died I...I didn't know how to tell you that I was..." His voice trailed off.

"Just telling me at all would suffice! I've grown up believing that my father is a just and good man! And now I learn that he's a dirty, lying pirate!" I stood up from the table, my voice growing louder and louder as I spoke. I could tell that people were starting to stare, but I didn't care. I was beyond propriety. "I can't believe you would do this to me!"

"What was I supposed to do?" My father's voice grew louder. "I wanted to protect you! I never wanted my daughter to get caught up in this mess like my wife had to! But now I know you can handle it and I..." I cut him off before he could finish.

"I don't care!" I yelled, angrier than I'd ever been before. My fight with John-Paul seemed like a friendly game of chess now. "You should have told me the truth a long time ago!" The entire Tavern was quiet, all eyes on us. I spun and glared at them. "Get back to your own damn business!" I screamed.

"Just calm down." My father said, sitting down and trying to gather control of his own temper. "You've got to try to see my point of view."

"I don't have to do anything for liars." I hissed, walking in circles by my chair. "After all, you know the saying: You can trust a thief, but never a liar. But in my case, you're both." I drained the last of my ale and slammed the glass back onto the table. "Anything else you'd like to tell me, Father? Do I have a secret brother somewhere? Are you even my father?"

"Stop it. We're not done talking yet." He said, angrily. "I can understand why you're disappointed in me, but that does not mean you can talk to your father that way. You'll show me respect." I stared at him in stoney silence. "Fine." He snapped. "Don't talk, just listen. The Captain of the Wicked Wench says that we're sailing to the Caribbean to find new waters. I am not leaving you alone for that long and I'm not leaving the ship, either. You're coming with me." My jaw dropped.

"Like hell I am!" I spat, running from the table. I heard him calling after me, but I wouldn't stop. I ran as far as I could, no sense of direction or distance. I was numb. This is too much! I can't handle all of this! It wasn't until I'd reached the ocean shore that I realized how far I had gotten. I stood there for just a moment, staring at the reflection of the moon and stars on the water, thinking over everything that had happened today.

And then I lost it. I began yelling at the sea and how it ruined my life. I screamed obscenities and nonsense. I splashed through the waves, kicking around like a madwoman while tears coursed down my cheeks. I cursed my father and I even yelled at my mother in heaven. There was no reasoning behind my actions, but I did it anyway. I was lost in the anger.

Hours later, I sat on the beach, dripping wet, and once again in control of my actions. I shivered in my wet clothes as the wind began to pick up along the shore. I saw nothing but the crushing blackness within my own mind. I heard a few sets of footsteps behind me, but I didn't have to turn to see who it was. I didn't want to.

"Selesta..." My father began, trying once again to talk with me. No. Never again. We would never talk the same way again.

"No. I just can't go aboard a pirate ship. I can't. I won't."