"Davy, dere is no ting betta dan dis."

"Nothing better, lass?"

David Jones stood upon the edge of the dock, the blazing lanterns of Tortuga to his right and the open sea to his left, bathed in the liquid amber hues of deepening twilight. He took no notice of the wild antics of his drunken crew as they staggered onto the Dutchman. His ship tugged at its frayed ropes, rocking back and forth as if unsure of its own sobriety.

"I be yours and you be mine," she stated, her mouth stretched taut and her chin tilted so that her bronze irises shone with the light of the stars above. "Fo eva. Fo always."

One look and Davy knew he would melt before her, ever her lowly servant. She buried her delicate face in the crook of his neck, and he inhaled the salty scent of her hair, woven into her long unruly dreadlocks. His wild Queen of the Tides. His Maiden of the Sea.

He would sail over the end of the world for her. The sleek Siren had stolen his heart.

He would carry these lost souls to their resting place, just as she asked of him. Ten years, she had said. Ten years of service would do, and then they could be together for all time, bathed in the glory of the immortal.

Davy felt his chest grow weak as he wrapped his arms around her slender body, feeling her silky skin on his calloused fingertips. She squeezed him tightly for a time, and he felt her cool breath on his neck. She slid her fingers down the length of Davy's sleeve, taking his hand in both of hers. She smiled up at him, pressing an object into his palm: an old carved music box. She parted her lips, only slightly, her eyes wistful.

"Don' open it. Wait till you're out on da open waters, Davijones."

He gulped, glancing down at the worn toes of his boots. "I shall miss you."

She only smiled in return. Her eyes glinted like cutlasses in the light of the setting sun. And then Davy began to feel her slip away.

A rogue wave crashed behind him, soaking the heels of his boots and sending a dank chill up his spine. His lover grinned wickedly; the wave was no rogue, but a carefully planned one. Davy shivered, allowing his lips to turn up in the faintest of smiles.

"Calypso..." He breathed as the woman released his hand from her grasp.

"Don' speak," Calypso ordered, wagging a finger playfully and taking a silent step back. She was already fading into the mist, her form growing faint. She would soon be one with the sea again...

"The offer still stands: you can join us-"

"I go wid da tides, Davijones. Always movin', always fickle. 'Tis my nature. But I will be back; dere be no doubt about dat."

And as soon as she had arrived, she was gone again, swept into the everlasting depths where she belonged.

And Davy would not see her again for ten excruciating years.