betweensunandmoon: (PotC)
[personal profile] betweensunandmoon
The final chapter, in which Erik has a flashback and decides to kidnap Christine.

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Author's Notes: Sorry it has been so long of a wait, sometimes LIFE gets in the way of things…I hope you find it worth it. I have enjoyed your reviews and your helpful tidbits, for they are helping me grow as a writer.

Really? I couldn't tell.

However, I am not going to change my writing style for this piece.

All: That's too bad.

This particular writing will continue as present tense in all areas except the following: when speaking of past events such as days before this one or in speaking from a flashback point of view. I hope this does not confuse anyone but this is how I have chosen to write this tale.

Raoul: Considering how often your tenses change already...

If I chose to write another story,

Christine: Did you choose to write another story? Oh, wait, it's just another spelling error.

I will attempt to write in past tense. I sincerely thank you for all of your help. Now I hope that you enjoy Chapter 8.

All: We won't.

Disclaimer: BLAH! BLAH! BLAH! I DO NOT OWN…YADDA! YADDA! YADDA!…WISH THEY WERE MINE…IF YOU SEE ANYTHING THAT IS FAMILIAR THEN I WOULD BE WORTH MILLIONS AND NOT BE POSTING ON FANFICTION…does anyone get tired of stating the obvious?!?

RATING REMINDER: This is rated T for 13+ Suitable for teens, 13 years and older, with some violence, minor coarse language, and minor suggestive adult themes.

Erik: Yes, that's generally what the "T" rating means.

Last time on love upon the sea:
Captain Jack Sparrow's many attempts to free himself from the clutches of the admiral, Raoul, were thwarted.

Raoul: It was one attempt, and not a very good one.

However, Erik Sebella achieved the daring rescue of Captain Jack Sparrow thus reuniting Meg with her lover and was able to finally meet Christine Kesslar and leaving a startling impression and token of remembrance…

Chapter 8—Knowledge of our past…

At a small office in the far interior of Port Kesslar,

Christine: Where in Port Kesslar?

Raoul is staring at plotting charts and shuffling through papers on the large rectangular desk before him. The man is far too distraught to sit, rather is pacing back and forth as though it will do much good.

Erik: While staring at charts and shuffling papers? He's far more talented than I thought!

He is trying to forget how foolish the escapade will make him appear in the eyes of the people. Infuriatingly, his boots pound into the floor with the disdain of a man utterly humiliated and in want of revenge. Not only did the great Captain Jack Sparrow manage to escape but his opportunity to display his authority on Port Kesslar by sending the scurvy pirate to the gallows has been thwarted.

Raoul: If I, for whatever reason, was put in charge of ridding the local waters of pirates, managed to capture a pirate, then got word said pirate had escaped from prison, my first concern would not be what the public would think of me, but that I'd failed in my duty.

The coxcomb yet egotistical character of this man would not allow this act to go without retort.

Christine: Vocabulary.com defines "coxcomb" as "a conceited dandy who is overly impressed by his own accomplishments." They are not exactly humble. And my husband is not a coxcomb.

Raoul finally sits momentarily to sign a judgment on the two men responsible for the escape.

Erik: If you mean Captain Sparrow's erstwhile guards, they were locked in the cell alongside him, as I recall. What could they have done?

He signs the paper so harshly that quill almost penetrated the parchment. He heats up the blue wax on a candle before stamping the parchment closed with his official seal, a great cockerel with a shield bearing semis of fleurs-de-lis. The seal had been handed down through the generations as a symbol of Chagny's heir in the royal line, backed by the pride of all France.

Raoul: I have no such seal. And yes, we're supposed to remember this for later.

Raoul momentarily sits back recalling what his father and grandfather would have done if given this particular situation.

Suddenly, there is a quick violent rap on the door, which breaks the silence and thoughts of the man. Startled from his thoughts, Raoul stares at the large wooden archway as it is flung open by a junior officer. "ADMIRAL!" he shouts as he hastily makes his way across the floor to deliver urgent news.

No officer would barge in on his superior like that, unless it was an emergency, which this isn't, as we'll see.

The admiral rolls his eyes and lowers them to his papers in disgust of the young man's appearance. The guard's attire is slightly disheveled, jacket and trousers not properly pressed nor in an orderly manner.

Christine: Why? Was he in a fight? I've never worn a uniform, but I have worn costumes, and a naval officer would no more report for duty in a wrinkled uniform than I would go onstage in a torn costume. They wouldn't let me.

The young man obviously came with haste otherwise the proper care and attention to details would have been taken when seeing a ranked officer.

Erik: Unless you were the only one around, which I doubt, couldn't they have sent someone who was dressed properly?

The care that this took was more like he had jumped from his bed fully dressed to deliver the urgent news.

Raoul: He was sleeping in his uniform?

"Mr. Jenkins, is this how you dress to attend to an Admiral?" The blonde superior officer

Christine: Apparently, the superior officer is a woman.

states coldly without raising his eyes to greet the junior officer, as he shuffles his papers.

Jenkins looks at his attire with shame and apologizes timidly, "No, sir…so sorry, sir. But there was no time…no time at all…an urgent message came and I had to…"

Raoul cut off the man from his amends, "All right, Mr. Jenkins. What is your purpose here? Who sent you?"

"The message is from Vice-Admiral Latimer on the Le Conquérant, sir.

Erik: So Latimer is on the The Conquerer? That's redundant.

It has to do with the missing pirate captain," the guard teases, eager for approval.

Raoul: One does not tease one's superiors, unless one wishes to be punished.

Raising his eyes toward the man with anticipation, his ears perking up for the information and commands, "Out with it, Jenkins!"

The startled guard stammers, "L-Le Conquérant has captured a merchant vessel off the coast.

Christine: Why would the navy capture an innocent merchant vessel?

They were headed for…"

The Admiral grew impatient to the guards stalling and interrupts. "Why would I care where they were headed? I have no interest of the travel schedule of a merchant vessel. You are dismissed."

Jenkins raises his voice in protest continuing to inform. "But, sir! The crew on the merchant vessel reports seeing a ship…a ship with black sails,

Way to rip off the Black Pearl. Where is it, anyway? We haven't seen it so far in this fic.

the flag of which holds the symbol of a white mask carrying Jack Sparrow away.

Erik: The mask was carrying Jack Sparrow away?

Word is they sail to Tortuga to rendezvous with the Pearl."

"Bah! Why would the Phantom risk capture to save a dishonest pirate captain of a rival ship?"

All: That's exactly what we'd like to know.

replies the official returning to his work as if there is not truth to the matter before him.

All: What?

"The Vice-admiral might not have believed him either had it not been for the calling card left," Jenkins pauses to build anticipation.

Raoul leans in with curiosity and questions, "Calling card, did you say?"

"Yes, sir. A body of a pirate washed into the harbor but an hour ago. The poor wretch was strangled to death, we imagine, since only a Punjab lasso present around his neck," informs the guard with confidence.

"Captain Sebella was here? In my port!" Raoul yells, slamming his hand upon the surface of the desk causing papers to scatter.

Raoul: You mean no one recognized him while he and his men were rescuing Jack?

Jenkins kneels to pick up the papers adding, "There is one more thing, sir. A group of our soldiers were chasing after the pirates and they report that young Miss Kesslar was strolling by the sea when they made their escape. They would not fire on a count of her presence on shore."

"Christine? Was she…?" Raoul lower his tone out of pure concern for his future bride.

Christine: So Raoul has proposed to me? Why didn't the readers get to see it?

Immediately the young messenger reassures the concerned official, "Oh no, sir. She is unharmed, however the pirate did make off with a family heirloom. A pendant."

"I must go to her at once. She must have been completely terrified coming face to face with that offensive, beastly pirate," the Vicomte states his private thoughts aloud forgetting the presence of the guard in a blank stare.

Erik: *reads sentence backwards* That still doesn't make any sense. *Punjabs it*

Gathering his thoughts and wits about him, he quickly dismisses the guard. "Thank you, Jenkins. I have other duties to attend to. And change out of that uniform and into suitable attire before returning to your post."

"Yes sir," the man states, saluting before exiting the office.

Raoul continues to shuffle though his papers, trying desperately to prove himself undeterred from the anger that is blazing within him. As the door closes, the admiral immediately gathers his things and heads out to see that his Little Lottie is unharmed.



In the conservatory…


Christine feels she has spent enough time in her room. She wants nothing more than to practice her new lesson as offered by the enchanting pirate.

Raoul: He didn't offer any lessons.

The players are awaiting her strong voice in the conservatory. Finally gracing them with her presence, she attempts to gain passion in her voice as the captain had so eloquently instructed. Christine cannot seem to find the right key. She sings beautifully and with every note her heart is lifted but not as inflamed

Christine: I'm no doctor, but that sounds serious.

as that fateful night.

The brunette begins to wonder, asking the players to begin again in another key. Passion….How am I to gain passion when I have yet to experience it?

Erik: So you've never experienced strong emotions about anything? I've read the previous chapters of this fic, and I can tell you that's not true.

That night, I was… I can hardly describe the incomparable feelings that were aroused within me…

She closes her eyes in remembrance of the masked man's moonlight vocal lesson.

Raoul: That wasn't a lesson.

His masculine torso… his strong presence yet surprisingly gentle nature… those rough, masculine features… and that voice… the deep rumble of enchantment as he spoke… and the peaceful melody that came from his song seemed of divine origin.

A flush crossed her ivory cheeks as she closed her eyes completely in the moment. Christine could hardly believe herself as her voice achieved the highest note she had yet to attain with a pure, angelic nature as if she reached the deepest part of her soul. Applause fills the air with appreciation as the players are in complete awe; never had they heard such a melody.

The ovation is abruptly broken as Raoul enters the conservatory with haste. "Players, leave us," he commands, briskly walking to the side of the maiden.

Christine is upset at his abrupt entrance but shrugs to herself and watches as the orchestra players obey his order. Raoul is quietly admiring her in the red velvet corset dress,

Christine: What on earth is a corset dress?

emphasizing her small chest and waist, the long sleeves caressing her arms. He gently grasps her delicate hands into his own, lifting her chin to admire her warm eyes as he expresses his concern, "Little Lottie, I came as soon as I heard. Are you unharmed, my love?"

Christine is slightly irritated that her voice lesson is interrupted,

Erik: That was a lesson? I couldn't tell, since there was no mention of a teacher.

and turns to retire to the divan. "Why, of course, I am. Why wouldn't I be?"
Raoul assumes her cold retreat is due to her distress from her eventful evening. He traces her steps and kneels upon the floor in front of her. "Christine, I cannot help but worry. A woman should never be alone in the courtyard after dark. Let alone be subject to coming in contact with one of those repulsive mongrels."

All: Thank you!

The Vicomte's disgust for this particular breed of pirates becomes ever more apparent.

Raoul: I didn't know there were breeds of pirates.

His face turns red with anger; however he turns to Christine and her angelic nature and innocence to bring his torrential emotions in check. He leans in to hug her and found a cold embrace with tense muscles. He assumes that her emotional exertion over her lost heirloom is the cause of this reaction. Trying to reassure her and show consideration for her well being, he promises, "I will see to it personally, that you are protected."

Christine gives a half-smile, rises to stare out the window at the sea and replies, "That will not be necessary, thank you. Besides I hardly believe he will return since he retrieve that which he came for."

Raoul rises to follow her, knowing what she must have gone through and wanting to reassure her that he would not stand for his love to be mistreated. Anger blazes within him, but her presence calms him like the soft salty breeze coming of the ocean after a storm. "Yes, I was notified about the heirloom that was stolen from you. I do apologize for the indecency of pirates. They have no value of heirlooms apart from their lust for riches. I will find the pirate responsible for your loss and make him pay for his crimes against you. Do not distress, my love."

Fearing for the Captain,

Christine: Why, for pity's sake? Why is this version of me so obsessed with Captain Sebella? She's never met him before last night, and that ended in him robbing her! Is it because of William's stories? I was attracted to Erik in canon because I believed he was the Angel of Music Father promised to send me, but an angel is not the same thing as a pirate, and Fic!Me's father is alive and well, so she doesn't have that excuse! And no one living in a time when pirates were a threat would tell tales romanticizing them to his daughter!

...I can't expect the author to know any of that, though, can I? *facepalm*


she belittles the pendant, stating, "I do not require such an inquest be taken, Raoul. I shall mourn its loss but only for a moment. It was a dreadful heavy thing and hardly an heirloom more like as accomplishment."

Christine's amber eyes sparkle with such innocence that Raoul finds it hard to resist kissing her. He gathers his wits and finds it in him to respond to the girl's remark with a question. "Accomplishment? I'm afraid that I do not understand."

Raoul grasps her soft hand and leads her back to the divan as she attempts to explain her meaning. "Well…the item was originally my great-great-grandfather's pendant. He was a vice-admiral at the time when he came in contact with the legendary pirate captain by the name of One-eyed Willie."

"One-eyed Willie, did you say? You have never spoken of this before." The Vicomte becomes intrigued upon the mere mention of this pirate's name. He leans in with anticipation, taking advantage of the situation to move closer to her on the divan.

Christine is not used to so much attention being given her thus she smiles shyly as a flush of red comes across her cheeks and bosom.

That's the same level of attention he's given you this entire fic.

"Haven't I? Oh, I am sure you have heard the tale and stories as you grew up. I remember that the French armada blew up the walls around One-Eyed Willie thus trapping him in Skull Cove. However, before that untimely battle had occurred, my grandfather and the captain were in a heated sword fight upon the deck of the Inferno.

Look, author, I love stories like this. I do not like being dropped in the middle of them without context. What were the walls part of? Where's Skull Cove? Why was the battle untimely? Whose ship was the Inferno? Your characters may know, but your readers don't!

"Both men were accomplished and skilled swordsmen, neither wanting to be bested by the other.

Erik: "Accomplished" and "skilled" are synonyms, author.

Willie always wore this particular pendant around his neck. During the battle the pendant met the blade of my grandfather's sword cutting it from the neck of the captain. Just then my grandfather lunged forward to avoid cannonball fire. As he lay on the soggy deck, he noticed the simmer of the pendant near the barrel

What barrel?

so he tucked it safely in his pocket.

"Upon his return from the battle, he brought it home to his daughter then her daughter and before she died it was entrusted to me. It has been in our family ever since as a reminder of my great-great grandfather's bravery and accomplishments."

Christine noticed that Raoul seemed nervous. Suddenly he is preoccupied and began making excuses to leave. "Thank you my dear for entrusting me with this information. But now I must attend to other matters of the port. I promise I will make right the wrong that has been so callously bestowed upon you. I will return to you this evening to ensure your safety."

Raoul: I don't talk like this. Then again, no one in this fic talks like an actual human being.

Christine stands as Raoul bows before her bending to kiss her hand. She wonders about his haste in leaving but quickly dismisses the notion.

I don't know what he's up to, either, but I'm willing to bet that if the author hadn't abandoned the fic after this chapter, Evil!Raoul would have made an appearance.

A smile crosses her lips, feeling the mask necklace upon her skin as it hides inside her corset, residing close to her heart. A small giggle escapes her lips and she begins humming bars slowly.



Tortuga
A week has past since the glorious rescue of Jack Sparrow by the mighty Phantom and her crew. While the crew is taking leisure in the rum and wenches of the Dragon's Lair, Erik is sitting at his usual dark corner table watching the door of the room on the upper floor. Jack and Meg have taken advantage of this time to do quite a bit of shagging. Erik is growing tired of watching Naider cater to their every need, while he awaits, anger turns to rage as yet another night passes of endless lust for the couple.

Christine: And what business is that of his?

He takes a giant swig of his bottle of rum and swaggers up the stairs to claim his reward for the rescue.

A loud bang on the door causes Jack to rise up from his lying position on the bed, yelling… "Bugger off! We have our rum."

Jack turns a seductive eye to Meg and grabbing a cover, pulls it over her exposed flesh. "Now back to us…" Jack's thought is abruptly cut off by a loud crash as Erik beats in the door and enters with sword in hand. Meg screams and clutches what little coverings she has as Jack tries to understand what is taking place, the effects of alcohol still upon him.

Pointing a blade in Jack's direction, Captain Sebella explains, "As I can see you are free and as far as your freedom is concerned, that requires payment. I demand payment, NOW!"

Erik: Why am I suddenly reduced to behaving like a small child?

The eyes of the masked man glow yellow in rage showing both that caution is necessary.

Meg moves close behind her lover to whisper the explanation into the flesh of his arm applying gentle kisses between words. "It is true! I promised Erik that I would stay with him and help him compose his next masterpiece…to be his muse."

Spitefully of this turn of events, Jack rotates his attention to the masked pirate in a taunt.

Can anyone figure out what that just said? Because I can't.

"Ah Erik! Always wanting treasures you have not properly earned. Always wanting things that by right should be mine."

Erik is furious by the comment and lunges at Jack. Jack shoves his lover to the floor and immediately jumps to his feet in a panic. Expressing his desire not to fight he adds, "Come now let's be reasonable."

(Erik): Jack, this is a badfic. Reason is nonexistent!

Again he dodges to the side just clear of the raged pirate's blade. Jack grabs his hat to cover one of the more important parts of his nakedness. Erik slashes at the covering, slicing it out of his hands causing Jack to gasp and run for more cover.

Don't hurt Jack's hat!

Behind the small desk, he finds shelter from the pirate only momentarily trying to visualize a plan of escape. "Erik, is this really wise? Crossing blades in the bare…tis not my idear of a fair fight, savvy?" The pirate is trying to talk his way out of yet another predicament.

Welcome back to being in character, Jack. Now kill the doppelgangers and get out of here.

"Oh really, Jack? I believe it is high time for your circumcision or if you prefer…eunuch." The masked man smugly replies with a devilish grin, taking a step toward Jack again.

LINE-STEALING: 14

Raoul: Insult-stealing also counts. And, author?

1. Circumcision is not the same thing as castration.
2. Eunuch is not a verb.


Meg steps in front of him wearing only a blanket, shouting for them to cease. She cautiously fixes her position between the men and begins speaking to them individually to calm them down.

Christine: (Meg): I am not an object to be fought over, so please stop treating me like one.

Turning her attention to Erik with a glare, "You will bloody well cool down. I am fully prepared to abide by my end of the bargain. But I need a moment with him alone, first."

"Ah, yes, my dear. However, I believe there has been plenty of that going on now, hasn't there?" Erik states very plainly, referring to the apparent love making session that has carried on over the course of their stay.

Meg cracks a slight smile, recovers and firmly commands, "Do not make this harder than it already is. You will have your muse now stand aside and give me a moment with him."

Erik: I thought Meg was my muse. So what does that sentence mean? "You will have me now stand aside and give me a moment with him?" Does Meg want me to order her to stand aside, or is she ordering me to let her speak with Jack? *shakes head*

Moving her blue eyes to gaze deeply into the brown eyes of her lover

At least they weren't chocolate.

and informs, "Jack, you need to listen carefully. I had an accord with Captain Sebella to free to you. It will be but a little task and in seeing that he has paid his debt, I shall pay mine."

Jack looks down at her, trying to entreat her to reconsider, "I understand. But what if while helping said masked man he persuades you into a far too familiar course of your past, luv."

Meg giggles at the notion since the last few days she has spent with Jack have been wild and heavenly. The best of both worlds for a pirate, raising her eyes until blue combined with brown

That sounds like an ugly color.

and she knew that her wiles had fully grasped his attention.

The blonde runs her fingertips across his exposed chest, her voice speaking merely above a whisper. "Now Jack, do you really think that I could be swayed by his charms anymore after having been in your arms?" Jack stares at her, a small pout upon his lips as she leans in to kiss them tenderly. The man was not happy but he knew it must be done.

She gathers up the blanket and walks toward Erik who is waiting by the door for her. "I will be with you shortly. If you do not mind, I will change into something more suitable for dancing."

Erik looks down at her smugly replying, "As you wish, my muse. I will await your arrival on the Phantom."

Why is everyone acting like Meg is about to sleep with Erik?



On the Phantom…

As the ballet continues, the masked man is frustrated at the stage of composition. The base is splendid but the piece seems to lack passion. The rhythmic dance of the beauty has indeed inspired a start to a magnificent piece. Still, Erik finds the work as a whole stagnant and lacking vision.

Raoul: What was lacking vision? Her dance, or his music?

"NO, NO, NO, NO," shouts Erik standing and combs his hair back with the palms of his hands.

Another long candle's wax drips on the table, as pieces of parchment fall to the floor in his haste. An equally frustrated Meg bites her upper lip and turns with a hand on her hip. She sees a nearby crate and sits upon it, awaiting further instruction.

"CURSE YOU, why can you not show me what I wish to see?" In his disgust, Erik's gestures have become rancorous and violent in nature. Overwhelmed by rage, he gives no ease to her ears, as his tongue turns scolding and cruel.

Christine: *disgusted* Don't you dare blame Meg for your lack of inspiration! She's doing her best!

Erik: And it's a poor composer who can only write with a beautiful woman at his side.

"Has it been so long in the hands of another that you fail to have passion within your heart? There is no passion to speak of within your loins. Nothing remains within you but the love of a drunken pirate."

The dark pirate walks to the bottle of rum near the windowsill, pours a glass raising it toward her, mockingly states, "Yes, let us all drink to another Tortuga harlot."

Erik: I would never refer to a woman as a harlot, unless that happened to be her profession.

Raoul: And where on a ship is there room to dance, save on the deck?

The blonde maiden rises with disgust, walking toward the table. She feels hurt, followed by confusion and tears of anger.

All: And with good reason!

Fighting back these feelings, she bends to pick up the sheets of music that have fallen to the wooden planks.

Erik lowers his drink, realizing how cruel he is being and approaches her.

Raoul: *coldly* But not to apologize, as we'll see.

The blonde's eyes well up with tears as she tries to look away, recalling the entrancing pull he has upon women, her eyes remain on the floor. The masked composer approaches her with his head lowered. He reaches out his hand to her and kneels beside her. She accepts his strong hand and they rise to a standing position. He tenderly strokes her fingers with his thumb, unsure how to explain to her what is needed instead begins with commendation.

"Meg, my dear," he starts, a heavy sigh upon his chest, "The rhythm of dance is quite moving. You have orchestrated the tone so beautifully. However I am afraid the essential quality of my music is not being achieved."

Erik takes her chin into his hand and turns her blue eyes to meet his, in a deep voice tender and sincere, "I am not feeling the danceYour passion seems absent, a distance from me. Without it, there can be no crescendo, no climax. There can be no masterpiece."

Christine: *coldly* And how, pray tell, is that Meg's fault?

Meg is unable to speak for nothing such as this has ever happened before. She has always been able to fulfill his creative needs and his most intimate desires. Even in Erik's darkest of times, she has always been the one to bring him out of his sorrows and revive in him the most exquisite passions. He is correct, however, that the desires and passions between them have changed over time. A new captain captivates her heart; one who sees her for who she is and that intimidates Erik.

Erik: Doesn't sound like Meg and I had the healthiest of relationships, then.

Minutes seemed like hours, the composer paced the floor in his disgust while the performer is apprehensive. She ponders what will be required of her to fulfill the debt she so ultimately owes.

Raoul: I thought you'd agreed to dance for him in return for his help rescuing Jack. You both held up your ends of the bargain. Is there some other debt you owe him we don't know about?

What will he require of her once this session has ended?

Christine: What makes you think he'll require anything?

Finally, the pirate clears his throat and walks to the door of his cabin. He turns to the blonde with a heavy sigh, regrettably concluding the session. "You have done all you can. I thank you for that. Still, I no longer require your services as my muse."

The dancer hangs her head in defeat and sadly makes her way to the door. Moved by the sight of her, Erik reaches out to touch her sun-kisses bronze cheek as she strolls by him. She glances up at him, the lantern's light glistens off his milky white mask. The man seems emotionless as her icy blue eyes rove over his features finally a devilish grin appears as his deep voice breaks the silence, "You do realize that payment has not been met."

Payment for what?

The masculine pirate reaches into his puffy shirt, smiling smugly as the blonde glares at him in confusion. Erik's strong, bronze hand slid slowly across his masculine chest and down into his white shirt, grabbing the item of interest out. There dangling upon a long golden chain is the medallion…the accursed trinket that has been the object of her lover's obsession for these many months…the whole reason for Jack's imprisonment, suspended before her, mocking her for attempting to be Erik's muse once more. All that is required of her would be to take it and the masked man's clutches on her will be shattered once again. He tauntingly swings it back and forth reminding her of Jack's need for it.

Erik: You just said you didn't need Meg anymore. Why are you still holding this over her head? Why not just give her the wretched thing? Meg and Jack have no ship. They aren't going anywhere. What is your plan here, Other Me?

In a huff, she storms out of the cabin aside from turning to hear his last comment. "Before you go, give my regards to Jack and inform him that his"captain" welcomes you both, once again, to the Phantom's crew."

She watches carefully as the masked man slowly closes the cabin door, a devilish grin still upon his face. Meg makes her way to her own cabin as the wicked laughter of the captain fills the bowels of the ship. She enters the cabin in the hopes of finding solace in the arms of her lover. As she enters the light from her lantern fills the room and regrettably finds that Jack has already asleep. She plops beside him on the bed and frees his hand from the bottle. She swirls the contents and swallows down the last drop while her mind is unable to find comfort from the sorrows of what tomorrow may bring.

Raoul: Christine? Erik?

Christine: Yes, Raoul?

Raoul: Why are Jack and Meg even in this fic?

Erik: To provide a convoluted way for Christine and I to meet, as far as I can tell.

Christine: Jack is here because the author decided to make this a crossover. I'd say she was trying to set Meg up as some kind of foil to me, but her behavior hasn't been explicitly contrasted with mine, so...

Erik: More importantly, how do Meg and I know each other? Couldn't the author bother to explain that?

Raoul: Badfic writers never spend time on anything other than their main pairings. You know that.

Erik: I suppose you're right. Still, a few sentences detailing our history would have been nice.

Christine: We'll never know. *sighs* On the bright side, the less we have to spork, the better.


The next day…

The mighty sea is rough and wild against the sides of the Phantom as it makes her way back to her home port; an uncharted island known only to Erik and the most trusted men of his crew as Île de nuit.

Christine: "Night Island." How imaginative. Then again, "Isla de Muerta" translates to "Death Island," so it's not like the filmmakers were being subtle, either.

Studying the charts to plot their course properly, Erik winces as the tumbling ocean's waves reminds him of that horrendous day so long ago…

Erik: Sailing in inclement weather reminds you of something unpleasant? You must remember it an awful lot, then.

*looks down* Brace yourselves. We're about to go into another flashback.


It was twilight on board the Emancipation yet after a day's worth of seasickness, my mother had finally found me hiding in among the longboats.

Raoul: And back to first person. *sighs*

I was striving to keep myself hidden from the terrifying brood of men that piloted this ship.

Christine: Where and when are we?

They had terrible stories of cannibals and horrid beasts that lurk in the sea beneath our ship.

The cannibals were lurking under the sea?

My father was Duchy Vartan de Sebella, of the royal French bloodline. Honestly, I questioned how being of a royal line merited such harsh treatment by others our society.

All: What?

However, my father had a firm hand and a stern way of handling those situations. He was hardly amused by my fear of such tales but was quite proud of the bravery that my older brother had. I can still remember my father's detest of my 'condition' but mother knew how to handle delicately such thoughts. She always overlooked the shameful glances that came my way and explained away ones fears of my wretched countenance.

Erik: *singing* This face which earned a mother's fear and loathing... *stops singing* Did you miss that line, author?

She promised that things would be different. She knew that neither France nor Persia was ready to provide the type of life she wanted for her two sons.

Our only choice was to flee to the New Land…a land that seemed to have a lot of potential and promise or at least that was what we were told.

Raoul: Flee from what?

Naider, being 15 at the time, hardly needed their protection.

Christine: Whose protection?

However a new start in a foreign country seemed to be diversity for him besides his inherited need to protect me. My mother was Malakeh Javid, a woman of humble beginnings as the daughter of a Persian rug maker.

Erik: I'll have you know I am a full-blooded Frenchman.

Still, she clung to the hope of the promise of a new life and assured us that our new home should become a welcome change for all of us. She promised that the New Land was all about new beginnings and I would not feel as an outcast as I had in the past.

As dawn began to rise on yet another day, I looked out to find Naider stood proudly showing off on the bow of the ship as if he was a pirate captain himself. I remember laughing at his bravery from the comforts of my barrel when a sudden a flash of light and the sound of cannon fire broke the peaceful silence of the night. The crew that once looked violent and rough is now running in a terrible panic screaming like frightened women.

I remembered the screams of the crew frightened me so that I ran from my hiding place trying to find my mother. I crawled across the floor to avoid the many crewmembers fighting with the men who had boarded our ship. I saw my father and stood to run towards him for shelter. I just about reached him when suddenly a tall figure stabbed him through the heart with a long sword. My mother screams and falls to the deck in an attempt to awaken his lifeless body. I was frozen in my position watching the man wipe my father's blood off of the symbol at the handle of his sword…I never forgot that symbol… the symbol that represents the man that killed my father… a great cockerel with a shield bearing semis of fleurs-de-lis.

Raoul: So...a relative of mine killed Erik's father.

Christine: It seems so, yes.

Raoul: Why?

Erik: He must have been a pirate. That's the only sort of person I can think of who would attack a ship carrying women and children.

Raoul: That hardly fits with my family's reputation in this fic.

Christine: You expect the author to ask herself whether her so-called plot twists make sense?

I stared at the man as though to burn his face into my memory forever.

My mother saw me in danger but I could not move…panic and fear ran through my veins like icy water that seemed to keep me in that pose. She came quickly to my side, instructing me to hide and not to come out until all was silent. I obeyed, hiding in one of the barrels at the stern of the ship. The terrible sounds of the thunderous booms continued and the smell of smoke filled my hiding place. I lifted the lid to see flames burned through the deck near my hiding spot. I escaped the flames, only to be shoved back against the railing by a man falling overboard.

Christine: What?

I recall the warmth of the sea was an uninviting surprise to my scrawny body.

Erik: The sea is not warm.

I remember fighting for your life through the untamed waters of the sea.

Raoul: Fighting for whose life?

I was confused as to why my parents were no longer with me…why the ship was no longer in the water but only pieces of floating debris…scared and alone, I screamed for anyone to hear.

The debris was floating in the air, apparently.

All I could think was…I would be eaten by a dangerous beast or worse come in contact with the cannibals of those tales the crew spoke of.

Finally after what seemed to be, the longest night possible, I awoke to find myself lying on the shore of an island. I searched the beach trying not to stray too far from the sea. Debris was floating all over but not a man in sight. What was to become of me? Why did I not die as well? Feeling helpless and sorry for myself, I began to cry. But just then a whistling sound came from just off shore. I stood up startled and could hardly believe my eyes as I saw him. It was Naider but a stone's throw from the beach, atop a keg of the foulest smelling drink…that same stench that reeked from every man onboard… RUM…the vile drink that I thought I would never touch…

LINE-STEALING: 15

Christine: Didn't Elizabeth describe rum as "a vile drink?"

Erik wipes a stray tear from his cheek and chuckles ironically, grabbing the bottle that is near him on the table and taking a large chug. "I hardly find this a vile drink any longer, do I Ayesha?"

The scarred man greets his Siamese companion and lowers his drink slowly to the table. She purrs in response to the man and jumps into his lap. Erik strokes her fur firmly as his anger grows recalling the injustice that came upon his family that night. All his life he has been seeking the ones responsible for his loss. Naider remains beside him, seeking not only the safety of his younger brother but also the revenge that their family so rightly deserves.

Erik: The author decided to inform the readers that Naider and Other Me are brothers just now?

It is hard for them to overlook the events that occurred so long ago although neither of them has spoken of the event in years.

Returning to Île de nuit brings all of it to light once more. "Perhaps I shall speak to Naider about the shipwreck, Ayesha? Do you think he will wish to continue our search for our parents' murderers?"

Raoul: If you haven't managed to find them after all these years, I'd say your chances are not very good, but what do I know?

Ayesha bites his hand as if something more important is on her mind. "I know enough talk of the past. You want to know of the rescue on Port Kesslar. The eventful night was much like the others, except for her."

Christine: What others?

The feline makes a low growl as another woman is mentioned.

Erik: Don't tell me the cat is jealous!

"Honestly my pet, the whole complex about her appearance that night was angelic and captivating.

Raoul: What?

I have never heard a voice such as hers in all my travels, even in Persia. I am not sure how else to explain my fascination with her.

Christine: How did you explain it?

I have not been captivated such as her in quite some time. My work vexes my very soul like a plague that is too much to bear. I must find another muse. Her voice was beautiful and strong but lacked the passion that I could inspire it to be.

Erik: Must be Carlotta.

Perhaps more will be revealed when we reach Île de nuit. I have composed some of my best work there. We will see what tomorrow brings. Good evening, my pet."

Erik blows out the lantern in an attempt to rest however his head is spinning with the thoughts of the maiden and next move as he lies down for the night… Perhaps she shall be my next muse…perhaps young Miss Kesslar shall leave her precious seaside mansion sooner than she expects

You just had to remind me of The Black Swan, didn't you?

(Not that The Black Swan was all that horrible, but its writing was not the best. And its female lead was one of the most unlikable, unsympathetic bitches I've ever had the misfortune to encounter, to the point where the male lead said something along the lines of "Your mouth is saying no, but your eyes are saying yes" to her and I didn't care.

Sorry about that. Back to the spork.)



Chapter stats: (Someone mentioned the chapters were short so here are the stats) 12 pages and 6316 words...so far in 8 chapters 31,623 words.

Well, that is the next in this saga...I do hope you have enjoyed it.

Raoul: Never call your fic a saga. And none of us have enjoyed it.

After doing plenty of research on the subject I have found that I can put my rating back to T for now. As I stated before i am not planning on anything more graphic but maybe more fluff (tee hee hee! I do believe I owe Skoteinos metamfiezomai for the eyes she lost in the fop fluffs...i believe the penance was ten-fold?!?!) if change my mind, i will be sure to inform you readers before hand. I am sorry for the jolt but I had to be sure. If there are any questions or comments, you may PM me and Now for reviews!

Gerry's Jackie: What can I say? I owe you a lot of comments since you have reviewed each chapter as I was handling other problems. Thank you very much for all your words. I am enjoying Erik and Jack...and of course you as well as most of my other readers would agree with Raoul being ICK!

I don't!

Christine: Neither do I!

LOL! Keep reading and reviewing.

JTBwriter: Thanks for your support no matter what FanFiction makes me do to my rating. Luckily, after reviewing it further, I was able to keep it to T for some of my younger readers. My first notion to whisk Christine away at that moment seemed too perdictable. I am waiting for a more dramatic setting in which to remove the young maiden from her fate. Thanks and keep reading!

Skoteinos metamfiezomai : (places hand at the level of her eyes as she addresses the infuriated reader for the long wait she has put her through.) -Coughs- So...how you doing? (smiles timidly) I know, I know! I should be forced to walk the plank or rather suffer the fate of Mr. Starkey in having a punjab lasso about my neck when they find my body...I am deeply sorry but LIFE could not find the way. I hope you enjoy this.

I didn't.

Much love to ya!

Anges: I am sorry for your disappointment but I promise it will be much better this way. Keep reading for a mor dramatic capture.

Rikku Ree: I Hope you enjoy this update! I know long time I hope to have another one within a month...and look for much more E/C to come...

ladyphan17: I will not abandon this story!

Liar.

however, I am a mother of four boys who cyberschool from home, and LIFE in general.

Erik: Good grief. This woman has children?

Sometimes the waits can be brutal. I am very sorry to everyone.

Phantomlvr: I believe everyone here will agree with your last review...TAKE THAT FOP! Although I am enjoying all of the characters I still do not wish the FOP to win! LOL! Enjoy!

Superphan: I hope you will enjoy their future meetings as well. Even though they are not together they are still in each others thoughts at all times which will continue throughout. Enjoy!

Lonesomegurlangelofdeath: As you can see I was able to change my rating back to T. I was very glad I could. I do not want you to get the wrong impression I only did it for Fanfiction. You will find I have not changed to anything more graphic than a PG-13 movie. I hope you keep reading!

CANANGELSCRY: Baby girl, what can I say? WE make a great team.

No, you don't.

We seem to be able to pull things off more than we ever expected. Love Upon the Sea is becoming more than either of us ever dreamed. Thanks for allowing me to commendeer this vessel and for coming along on the voyage!

The next "chapter" is an author's note. (Chapters consisting solely of author's notes are not allowed on fanfiction.net, by the way.) Once I spork that, I'll finally be done with this fic.

(no subject)

Date: 2017-06-13 03:38 am (UTC)
igenlode: The pirate sloop 'Horizon' from "Treasures of the Indies" (Default)
From: [personal profile] igenlode
It's interesting that the author apparently did get some adverse comments about her random mixed-up tenses (she doesn't succeed too well in her resolve to stick to present tense for this chapter, however) -- the sort of people who like this sort of thing enough to review it usually don't worry too much about minor details like consistency of grammar...

I've just noticed that Christine's surname is apparently 'Kesslar' and she is apparently residing *in* 'Port Kesslar' -- presumably the town isn't her ancient family domain (Governorships aren't hereditary, anyway), so I'm not at all sure what was supposed to be going on here. A severe case of nominative determinism? ;-p

Infuriatingly, his boots pound into the floor

I imagine that is very infuriating for anyone underneath :-D
I'm having difficulty picturing what sort of 'pacing' technique he is using that inolves smashing his feet into the floorboards like a pile-driver, though... let alone managing to read charts and shuffle through papers on the desk at the same time!

would not allow this act to go without retort.

He was going to come up with an effective rejoinder? ;-p
I really don't think this author knows what have the words she uses actually mean...

If you mean Captain Sparrow's erstwhile guards, they were locked in the cell alongside him, as I recall. What could they have done?

I think it's reasonable to expect that they should not have allowed themselves to get locked in the cells by the prisoner they were supposed to be guarding ;-p

He heats up the blue wax on a candle

What blue wax? No-one mentioned any blue wax (and sealing-wax is normally red, so you'd need a reason for it...)
I'm getting a mental image here of Raoul attempting to warm some wax in a tiny saucepan balanced on a tripod over a candle-flame like a Bunsen burner; I suspect the author hasn't the faintest idea how you use a stick of sealing-wax (hold it over the flame until it melts and drips onto your paper, basically).

a shield bearing semis of fleurs-de-lis

Bearing what? semie is a heraldic term meaning (in Norman French) 'seeded with', so you could say semie de fleurs-de-lis if describing a shield with a scattering of fleurs-de-lys across the background. But I seriously doubt that this author possesses an heraldic vocabulary (and semie is an adjectival form of the verb semer, not a noun, and it can't sensibly be put into the plural; you might as coherently write 'bearing walkings of lions' to describe a shield with three lions on it!)

as a symbol of Chagny's heir in the royal line, backed by the pride of all France

...is she suggesting that the de Chagny family are somehow in line to inherit the throne of France? (because, you know, they already have a royal family with a legitimate heir and descendants)
Actually, my immediate reaction to a coat of arms like that would be to assume they were descended from royal bastards -- lots of families were :-p Wouldn't give you 'the pride of all France', though...

Raoul momentarily sits back recalling what his father and grandfather would have done if given this particular situation

Although for some reason the author doesn't tell us what this actually is, so we have Raoul busy sitting there supposedly mulling over a subject that's a complete mystery to the readers :-p

It's very off-putting the way that she keeps talking about 'the official' and 'the man' and 'the superior officer' when mentioning Raoul (who is nominally the viewpoint character of this scene -- but who thinks about himself as 'the man'?) It makes it sound as if there are several other unknown people involved as well...

Raoul stares at the large wooden archway as it is flung open

The archway is flung open? What, it splits in two?


It seems to me perfectly reasonable that a naval officer would report for duty in a wrinkled uniform if he had an urgent message to present: what doesn't make any sense is that his commanding officer, on being informed that there was an important message relating to the escaped pirate whom he was supposedly desperate to capture, would order the messenger to shut up without bothering to listen to enough of it to tell whether it was relevant or not. Not is is that out of character for Raoul, it's out of character for Norrington too.

Apparently Erik tossed his Punjab lasso overboard along with the corpse -- I hope he has spares ;-p
(Also, I'm surprised that the guard or Raoul would recognise one either by name or by sight; neither of them has ever been to the Punjab, and it's not exactly a well-known weapon. Basically, it's a piece of weighted cord along the lines of a bolas, but with only a single strand; it's a throwing device...)

If the corpse only just washed into the harbour from outside, what makes Raoul assume that Captain Sebella was "in my port"? (In fact, so far as I remember, he wasn't...)

They would not fire on a count of her presence on shore

Christine is a count now -- and a count of some presence? ;-p

trying desperately to prove himself undeterred from the anger that is blazing within him

This sentence appears to be saying that he's trying not to let this news put him off from being angry...
the admiral immediately gathers his things

Since the only things we've heard mentioned in association with Raoul in this chapter so far are his 'papers', I can only conclude that for some reason he is taking the whole roll of charts with him :-p


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