Sinking with the Titanic, Rose ends up on a ship with the pirate Jack Sparrow and a sea goddess' diamond heart. When she tries to free the cursed Will Turner things get complicated, but falling for a dishonest pirate on rum withdrawal is an even wor...
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Rose was not afraid anymore. As the warm wave brought her steadily nearer to Davy Jones' Locker she felt a deep calmness, and a slight curiosity. During the past three days she had finally come to terms with her destiny and accepted that her time was up.
She travelled surrounded by water, but like that time with Otohime she had no trouble breathing. On either side of her she felt the comforting presence of the sea goddess and her daughter, the latter still holding her hand in a secure clasp, and escorting them were the two dolphins from before. The only sound came from their ever-smiling maws, a series of cheerful whistles and clicks.
.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.
After an indeterminable amount of time, they arrived outside a white wooden wall with a paneled door that Rose recognized very well. On an oval number plate she read 'B-56', and underneath it a smaller sign had the words 'First Class'.
"This was my cabin. On the boat..." She reached out to touch the plate. "How could that be?"
"The Locker looks different for everybody," Calypso explained. "This is the route you must take, with the ghosts you must meet."
"Ghosts?" Rose's eyes popped open.
"Figuratively speaking. The Locker is a place to settle one's old life and let go of it. Some stay only a short time, some never leave. It all depends on the choices they make and the sacrifices they accept."
"Accept?"
"Yes. That's what this is about. Acceptance – and forgiveness."
"I don't understand."
"You don't have to understand, just follow your heart."
After saying her goodbyes to Otohime and Calypso, Rose placed her fingers on the door handle, preparing herself mentally. And then she walked through it, hearing the door shut behind her. She knew without being told she could not open it again.
From here, she could only go forward.
The carpet was soft under her feet as Rose slowly walked through the familiar First Class suite. The bed was the same, the furniture... everything. It even smelled the same; fresh paint. She was back aboard the Ship of Dreams. The RMS Titanic.
She went to stand before her dresser with the large vanity mirror. She wore that flimsy evening dress again, the one she had drowned in. With a trembling hand she touched her tortoise shell hand mirror and an embellished comb she had worn in her hair. They felt so real. All of this felt real, as if she had travelled forward in time – back to the future.
Then she noticed there were some differences after all. Around her neck hung the seashell pendant Otohime had given her and instead of the high-heeled pumps she had died in she wore the practical boots Elizabeth had bought.
The cabin had some changes as well. When she boarded the Titanic that day, she had brought with her her paintings. Monet, Degas, and that promising young artist – Picasso, his name was, if she recalled correctly – and placed them on the tables and chairs to liven up the place. The picture frames were still there, but instead of colorful oil paintings they now contained coal sketches. Most of them were drawings of a ship, the Black Pearl, made by Jack Sparrow.
