Stranger Redemption (Davy Jones x Female OC)

IX - Part II

Anya awoke to a loud crash. Nothing new. There has been no peace on the Flying Dutchman since Beckett took over. Davy had rushed her back into the room that night. And after tossing what little furniture they had in there across the room, he settled. Then she had asked him what she could do but there is nothing any of them can do as long as Beckett has Davy's heart on the Endeavor.

That didn't stop Beckett from sending them a babysitter or two. Mercer had been the unlucky drawer of the shortest straw lately. But Anya suspects he likes to watch the sick power play in action. Which brings us to the noise on deck.

With more humans on board, more supplies had to be here as well. Which Beckett happily supplied for his men, but they weigh down the ship and take up much more room than necessary. Giving the crew and Anya a feel of claustrophobia in the air of the vessel they cannot leave.

Anya had taken to pulling herself out of bed already in a rotten mood. As she dragged her body down the sheets and her feet planted on the cold floor, she wasn't surprised to find herself alone. By the suns position, she has slept late, and Davy would be on deck leading the crew. Anya stands with a bitter expression on her face and makes her way to her trunks for a change of clothes. She slept in a thin nightgown and right now the thought of getting into a heavy dress makes her want to scream. So she chooses pants. She had been opting for the lighter, more convenient garment a lot lately. It was nice to not have to worry about catching her skirts while moving about and climbing through the ship. Though sometimes she still feels like wearing a dress. Many of the crew make compliments to her about how she always looks like a lady no matter her dress. Anya hopes it's true. She likes that.

She finally makes her way on deck, just in time to see another barrel go flying through the air from the Endeavor, onto the deck of the Dutchman. Landing harshly on the old wood.

"Hey!" She rushes forward without thought. "You break one board on this ship and I will have the Bosun use your flesh to repare it!" The statement and tone surprises even Anya.

Mercer turns to her, stealing her attention from the now frightened young soldier to himself. "Well, well, aren't you a firey one."

He reached for her only an inch before nearly every weapon on deck was pointing at him. Weapons and crew now between them and around Anya like her own personal guard. She expected as much, so she didn't flinch or move away at all.

A familiar cruel chuckle that Anya hasn't been hearing often enough as of late fills her ears. "A warning. You may have my heart and control my actions. But even I cannot control the actions of my crew if you lay hand on a single part of her."

Davy is rage filled. She can tell. But he plays calmly, knowing there is no way that, on a ship that is crew and with a crew that is ship, Anya will ever be truly vulnerable enough to Beckett and his men. They will always have eyes on her and this crew likes Anya, a lot. It's these facts that put Davy's mind at ease. Though he wishes he could pull Mercer limb from limb for even trying to touch her.

Mercer smiles, feigning politeness, and pulls his hand away.  He nods simply.

While the crowd disperses, it's Bootstrap that stays by her. "Morning, m'lady."

"Is it still morning? I feel as if I've slept half the day." She snaps at him.

"Yes." He simply responds. Looking at her with worry.

Anya hasn't been sleeping well and it's contributed to her bad mood.

"I don't know what's come over me, Bootstrap." She grasps her head in her hand.

"Perhaps some food will hel- Captain." He fades off, stepping back submissivly.

Anya feels his hand gently take hers before she looks up and sees Jones. "Did he hurt you?"