Full Summary: At the end of At World’s End, Barbossa sailed off with the Black Pearl while Jack stole the navigational charts and went off in a dinghy in an attempt to find the Fountain of Youth. Two months later, things aren’t going quite according to plan. Barbossa is trying to track Jack down to get the charts back, Capitaine Chevalle has arrived in the Caribbean to try rid himself of his self-imposed title of the Penniless Frenchman, Eduardo Villanueva has pulled himself out of retirement in order to hunt for mythological treasure, and Captain Sparrow keeps getting lost whenever his compass stops working because he has run out of rum. To make matters even more complex than they need be, Cadwallader Rogers, Proprietary of the Bahamas, has his eye on claiming completely control of the Caribbean in any way possible while young Katrina O’Connor purposefully complicates happy, rum-soaked pirate lives when she fulfills her dream of finding her pirate father.

Genre: action, adventure, humour, drama, suspense, angst, supernatural
Characters: Captain Jack Sparrow, Barbossa, Eduardo Villanueva, Capitaine Chevalle, Pintel and Ragetti, Gibbs, the rest of the Black Pearl crew, and OCs.

Notes: Any attempts at being historically accurate in anyway are to be ignored. :-p The entire plot of this (epic?) fic came from a very crazy dream I had one night a couple weeks ago where the entire story was played out in front of me like a movie. After that, the plot bunnies wouldn’t leave me alone. By all rights, I shouldn’t be started a new fic now but I’m defying my logical side and posting anyways. ;-) I’m also trying to keep the same tone as the films. This is my first forage into the PotC verse in four years.

Disclaimer: I do not own PotC or any of its characters (including Villanueva and Chevalle, who are two of the pirate lords seen at the Brethren Court in AWE). I did, however, create Katrina O’Connor, Alvarez, Rogers and any other OCs that will eventually pop up here.

PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN

Hounds of the Sea

Prologue

The sun had not yet risen, but the child was already awake, sitting on her window ledge as she gazed out at the dark, black sea. The gentle tropical breeze blew in through the window, bringing with it the familiar smell of salty water that she always associated with adventure. Tapping her fingers on the wall beside her, she sang softly to herself as she watched the horizon slowly turn pale pink as the sun prepared to rise.

“What shall we do with a drunken sailor?

What shall we do with a drunken sailor?

What shall we do with a drunken sailor?

Early in the morning?”

“Way-hay, up she rises,

Way-hay, up she rises,

Way-hay, up she rises,

Early in the morning.”

The girl jumped and almost teetered over and fell out of her window in surprise as she heard her mother’s voice behind her. She shrieked and caught the sides of the window, pulling herself upright before jumping off the ledge and back into her room.

“Mother!”

Mary O’Connor laughed and crossed the room, hugging her daughter tightly. “What are you doing up so early and singing forbidden songs, Katrina?”

The girl shrugged. “I was looking at the sea. Why are they forbidden?”

Mary gently brushed her daughter’s dark red hair with her fingers. “They’re pirate songs, Kat,” she said, sitting down on the window ledge herself. “Pirates are outlawed bandits of the sea who are very terrible men.” Something about her tone of voice was mocking, clearly stating that she didn’t believe a word she was saying.

Katrina made a face. “Mother, you don’t believe that.”

Mary laughed again and wrapped her arms around her daughter, rocking her gently. “No,” she said, looking out at the horizon as the sun slowly came up. “No, I don’t. I’ve met pirates.”

Kat looked up at her mother and grinned. “They’re incredibly dashing, aren’t they?”

“And I think you’re too young to be thinking of anyone as dashing,” Mary warned teasingly.

Katrina stuck out her tongue. “But you always said that you thought father was dashing,” she pointed out.

A tightness formed in the corners of Mary’s lips. “In his own way,” she said quietly. “In his own way.” She gazed out at the sun rise as she spoke. “You’re a lot like him, you know.”

“I am?”

Mary tweaked her daughter’s nose. “Oh yes, of course. Same spirit of adventure. Though, of course, if it was he who was sitting on the window ledge when I came in, he would have fallen off whereas you didn’t.”

Though Mary somehow found that funny, Katrina frowned.

“Why would he do that?”

Mary smiled. “Let’s just say he has a talent for falling off of things.”

Katrina made a face. “Put him in the long boat ‘til he’s sober,” she sang. “Put him in the long boat ‘til he’s sober-”

“Early in the morning,” Mary finished. “That’s what we’ll do with the drunken sailor—”

“You skipped a verse!” Katrina accused. “You skipped… I dunno, ten verses! Twelve!”

Mary burst out laughing. “Oh, Kat, what would I do without you?”

Katrina ignored this statement, but hugged her mother tight. “Mother,” she said after a moment, “tell me a story about pirates. Please?”

“Well,” Mary said, gently rocking her daughter, “let me see. We have daring escapade stories, and we have dangerous chase stories, and perilous commandeering of ship stories. There are sea monster stories and sea god stories, and we have stories about cursed treasure and stories about enchanted treasure–”

“Enchanted treasure!” Katrina exclaimed. She loved listening to her mother’s voice telling a story about pirates. Her favourites were about the search for buried treasure and the like, especially if there was a fantastical element about it. Even if it wasn’t true, she still loved to hear about it.

“Enchanted treasure it is, then,” Mary said. “Hmm…” She paused. “I know! I have one for you.” She tweaked her daughter’s nose. “The Fountain of Youth.”

“I’ve already heard this one!” Katrina exclaimed, folding her arms.

“My, you’re a picky one. I think I’ll tell you about the boring old treasure buried under a palm tree where an X is drawn in the sand to mark the spot where it can be found –”

“No!” Katrina interrupted. “No, tell me about the Fountain of Youth!”

“Well,” Mary began, “the Fountain is reputed to be in the land of Florida—”

“That’s not too far from here, is it?”

“You’re interrupting the story, dear.”

“Sorry, mother.”

Mary smiled. “It is said to bring everlasting youth to the person who drinks from its waters—”

“Why would anyone want to stay little forever?” Katrina said, interrupting again. She was frowning. “I want to grow up!”

“Yes, dear,” Mary said, “but many adults would rather be young again.”

“I don’t like being little.”

“You’ll grow up some day.”

“I want to grow up now!”

“You’re being impossible.”

Katrina shrugged. “But there’s really no such thing as the Fountain of Youth,” she said. “If I’m going to grow up some day, then no one’s going to stay young forever. It’s just a silly story.”

“Is it?” Mary asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It can’t be true, it’s not possible.”

“Well,” Mary said slowly, locking eyes with her daughter, “you’ll just have to make that decision on your own. Where does the truth lie without a leap of faith?”

Katrina made a face. “Mother, that doesn’t make any sense.”

Mary laughed. “No, it doesn’t. It’s not supposed to make sense.”

For a moment, both mother and daughter were quiet as they turned and watched the sun rise up out of the ocean, shooting soft golden rays across the sky. Katrina glanced at her mother several times; the stories her mother told often brought up many questions that she only dared to ask once she gathered the nerve. There were some questions that even someone as usually composed and gentle as her mother would not answer.

Finally, she made up her mind.

“Mother,” Katrina began, “tell me about father. Where is father? Why didn’t he stay with us?”

Mary froze. A strange expression crossed her face as she absentmindedly stroked her daughter’s hair. “He’s a man of the sea, Katrina,” she said quietly. “He can’t stay in one place. He belongs out there, not here.”

Katrina frowned. Whenever she asked questions about her father, her mother always looked sad. “I don’t even know what he looks like! Won’t he come back one day?”

“He’s a pirate, Kat,” Mary answered, “and he’s not welcome in Nassau. You don’t want him to be hanged, now do you?”

Katrina pulled a face. “The governor’s not a very nice man,” she said, folding her arms.

Mary shook her head. “Katrina, don’t let anyone hear you say that,” she warned. “Not here. We’re under the protection of the Proprietary of the Bahamas, remember. I’m a servant in his house – we must be respectful.”

Katrina ignored her. “But if Father managed to get here once before – when he met you – then why doesn’t he try it again?”

Mary paused. “It’s dangerous, Kat,” she said, sighing. “Pirates aren’t welcome here.”

There was something about the way she said it that made Kat blurt out her next question – one she had been wanting to ask ever since she learned that her father would never live in the same house as her. “Mother, does he even know about me?”

Mary hesitated before answering. Seeing her cautious expression, Katrina suddenly felt quite upset – she could feel the stinging in her eyes that was often accompanied by tears. She angrily wiped them away with the back of her hand.

“Katrina, don’t cry!” Mary placed a hand on her daughter’s shoulder, but Kat shrugged it off and backed away across the room. Resting her fingers on her lips, Mary watched her daughter, a concerned look in her eyes. “Kat—”

“I think I know what I want to do,” Katrina interrupted. “When I’m old enough to live on my own, I want to go find my father, wherever he is. And I want to sail to seas with him.”

Mary rolled her eyes skyward and sighed. She smiled at Katrina as she stood up. “I suppose that is what I should have expected from his daughter.”

Eight years old, red haired and already dreaming of a life on the sea, Katrina O’Connor smiled back at her mother, finally happy that she had had the chance to share her life’s dream with someone other than herself. She gazed out the window again; the sun was now part way up in the sky, its soft golden rays fading into pink around the horizon. The salty sea air blew in through the window, playing gently with her loose hair. Katrina smiled again. The sea was where her father was, and that was where she was going to go.