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Ever since the guard that had gotten kicked from his position, literally, from having fallen asleep while on the job of watching the outside of Lord Beckett’s office. There was talk about who the next guard would be. Rumors of the best guard who had the sharp eye in case of any danger and quick reflexes were the main concern Beckett desired.
Standing off to the side around some guards they talked among themselves. All you did meanwhile was stand professionally and listen to them theorize who could be the best fit. Some mentioned Theodore Groves, others mentioned James Norrington if the man hadn’t disappeared.
Which, you had heard that he had gotten himself nearly killed. How? You weren’t so sure, but you did learn he resigned and never made his way back to Port Royal.
Footsteps were heard as you looked over briefly and noted Mercer walking and looking around to potentially find someone. As you watched him walk, he soon locked eyes on you for a brief second before he turned away and retreated somewhere deeper into the fort.
Not thinking much of it you continued to stand guard and eventually came to the time you had to take your leave as the guards shift ended and you returned back to your room upon the fort. Setting the gun aside you ran a hand over your head to attempt to wipe away the sweat. The damn Caribbean was always way too hot. Especially with the uniform you wore every day.
A deep quiet voice interrupted your thoughts as you turned to the direction it had come from and saw Mercer once more. “Lord Beckett is wanting to see you in his office.” He shifted on his foot, “Don’t keep him waiting.” He disappeared from the room as fast as he appeared.
Sighing softly to yourself, you grabbed the weapon once again and walked through the halls of the familiar fort and stopped outside Beckett’s office. A couple guards stood by, nodding at you in allowing you to enter the office. Giving them a quiet thanks, you opened the door and walked inside.
Your eyes took a look around the office, noting that this was your first time ever in the space. You turned to the left, seeing he was sitting behind his desk writing something down on parchment. You walked professionally over to him and stood in front of his desk. “Lord Beckett.”
“Mercer told you to come here.” It wasn’t a question, just a clear statement as he didn’t look up from what he was writing down. “Do you have an idea why?”
“No sir.” You answered honestly, “I’ve heard the rumors of your past guard losing his job. But those are just rumors, no?”
“Rumors that are true.” Beckett finished writing and set the pen back in the ink. “I have needed a new guard since last night. Someone who is skilled and won’t fall asleep working.” Standing up from his chair he walked around his desk to reach out and grab the small bottle of wine and poured a bit in two small shot glasses. Picking one up he handed one to you.
Not wanting to disappoint you grabbed it from him and took the small shot. “Have you found a suitable skilled guard?”
“Yes actually.” Beckett drank down his shot of wine before looking at you. “You.” Beckett poured himself another glass before he leaned slightly on his leg and kept his attention on you. “Mercer has been watching you since this morning as you worked. While the other guards lazed around and spoke about the ongoing news of what transpired. You stood professionally without a care in the world of what was going on.” He smiled slightly, or was it more of a smirk?
“That is someone who I need.”
“I understand.” You replied, “When do I start?”
“Eager.” Beckett took his second shot of wine before he set the glass down on the table as he turned toward the windows that lined almost half of his office. “You start tomorrow night. Seven in the evening until 5 in the morning, understood?”
“Yes sir.” You took in the information and soon thought of a question, “May I ask something.”
Beckett just turned his full body to you, allowing you to ask anything.
“Will I return back to my own usual shift after six?”
“No.” He stepped forward, “Think of this as a promotion. The moment you’re done you return home and rest until the time comes around for you to be guarding.”
“Understood.”
“Take the rest of the day off to get your body used to the new schedule.” Beckett said, basically ordering you to do as he asked.
“Of course. Anything else, sir?”
“No. You’re dismissed.”
You gave a salute and turned, noting that Mercer had just arrived as you gave a salute to him before leaving the hallway and leaving the fort to return back to your home to get ready for a schedule change.
The first week of being guard outside Beckett’s office and you soon learned was his room as well as in a separate doorway was where he had slept. It was quite hard, at least for the first few days, but slowly your body got used to it and things were easy.
Almost three weeks into being guard you looked out into the distance. Noting that some ships had left from the dock that were stationed earlier this morning when you were guarding. It was truly the only thing that could make you not lose your sanity all that much while standing guard for 11 hours. Just noticing what changed from when you were last there.
The door opened and you looked over, your hand reaching to your blade but only having noticed Beckett looking disheveled and a bit shaken up, or at least you thought he did. “Are you okay, Sir?”
He didn’t say anything for quite a long time, instead he looked out into the distance from where he stood. He blinked once, twice as he let out a sigh, “No.”
Part of you wanted to ask more about his situation, but deep down that wasn’t your job. Yet, deep down you just wanted to make sure. “Is there anything I can do to help?” You offered, looking briefly over at him as you had noticed his hand cling to the railing. To steady himself, or ground him to reality.
It was another long bit of silence once you had offered. So taking that as a sign you stayed still as you usually did and looked out into the distance. The company of Beckett next to you never seemed to bother you that much anymore. It used to be when you first got the job, knowing he was in his office and able to see you from where he sat. Shit, there were times where you could feel his eyes on you and yet all you did was stand still as a statue.
But now, he was so different. In this disheveled state of uneasiness and gripping the railing. He seemed like he either had a hard time sleeping or perhaps even had a nightmare. Just from looking him over considering he wore what he usually wore to bed. Nothing differently drastic from what he wore around the fort but layers removed that were unnecessary.
“Does it ever occur to you how you may die?”
His question came out of nowhere, his voice still stern but also soft at the same time. Like, he, himself was even scared to ask the question.
Death wasn’t a common topic on your mind. No, you were a guard since James came to the fort as a Lieutenant and Governor Swann came with his daughter. Since then, life was easy, stand at your position and guard the area from threats. Having close calls of course with the attack on Port Royal, but that was the most interesting it had ever gotten. The next interesting thing was being sort of promoted as a guard for Beckett.
“No. I never really had thought much about how death could take me.” You answered upon thinking about it. “It’s a thing where I live my life until somehow I’m taken. I’m not cautious about my job, I know the horrors that await me if things go south?” You briefly set your gun against your leg, using the opportunity to relax just for a moment. “Why do you ask, sir?”
Beckett made no hum or acknowledgement to your question. His eyes briefly looked around the area at sea, mostly notably to his ship. But otherwise he remained still. Slowly he let out a long sigh, loosening his grip on the railing as he turned around and leaned his back against it.
“I was just curious.”
You had a feeling there was more than that, but before you could reply he pushed off and returned back inside to his office. Once he was gone you stood back up professionally and continued your shift until the sun rose.
A week passed since that moment when Beckett had come out of his office or even bedroom to talk to you briefly. Since then, the conversation never got brought up again. You knew not to mention it to him since the last thing you’d want is an angry glare sent your way and the small possibility of you losing your job—or being demoted.
As you stood outside, you ate quietly on something small that you had gotten. Beckett had told you before you got situated that you were to have one break to eat something and use the bathroom. If you needed to, so with that time in the middle of your shift. Here you leaned on the railing overlooking Port Royal for what seemed like the upteenth time as you ate your food in relative silence.
“The stars are shining bright.”
The voice suddenly startled you as you turned and saw Beckett out. Once again, he was out of his usual clothes, what you could say was good fashion, and more layers were removed to reveal the white shirt underneath the vest.
“Yes. They are.” You looked up, how long have you stayed out here at night and not once tried to look up at the stars? It was quite ridiculous, “Do you have a favorite star or constellation?”
“I was never much into astronomy.” Beckett admitted, “Although I do know how to read the stars to return home. That’s all that mattered to me.”
As he talked you took the last bite of your bread and stared up at the sky, admiring the darkened area and wondering what else could be out there. Besides the stars, sun and moon. The possibilities were endless.
“May I ask you something.”
You turned your attention to Beckett’s voice as you nodded for him to continue.
“The last we talked I asked you about how you thought you may die.” He leaned his left side against the railing and kept his attention on you, his eyes weren’t as cold as they usually are. Somehow they held some warmth to it, “Now I am quite curious on how you deal with nightmares?”
For a moment all you could do was stare for a moment before looking back ahead and somehow wondering if these two things were connected in some way. Not wanting to question him directly, you thought about his question that he asked first.
“I guess it merely depends on the nightmare I get. There’s many ways to deal with it. There’s no correct answer, and everyone’s different. I guess I do what normally calms me down.”
“I see.” Beckett replied quickly after you had finished, “I wish I knew what calms me down.” He muttered under his breath as he looked down at the ground.
“A smell?” You suggested, “Or a familiar place?” Beckett looked at you, listening as you listed off some things. “Sometimes if any nightmares are bad enough I’d write them down, or ask a friend for help. Just to try to get my mind off it or have some insights from a trusted comrade.”
He hummed, “I guess I am doing one of those things.”
“Letting someone you barely know in on it.” You watched as he looked shocked and you smiled, “Don’t act surprised, Sir. You are asking me about how I cope with death and nightmares when all we do is nod to each other whenever we pass by each other. You aren’t exactly slick in asking, no offense.”
“None taken. I admit I wasn’t thinking too much to keep myself discreet.”
“So you had a nightmare about death?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Sometimes I think there’s a way to push it away. It’s a fear, no? Dying. We don’t know what awaits us in heaven or hell. Or whatever you may believe in. If you do, that is.” You added the last part quickly. “But, I think there’s a curiosity in knowing what could happen. It’s like space.” You smiled as he looked up briefly at the sky then down at you again.
“Space is a huge ongoing mystery. Much like our deaths. We don’t know what awaits, but perhaps when we find out it would be possible to have a hope for a new beginning?”
“You’re wise despite being a soldier.”
You couldn’t help yourself from smiling and letting out a small laugh. “Perhaps I am. I’ve thought about it a lot since I’ve been standing guard here. You can only look at Port Royal and see what changed since the morning prior before getting bored.”
Turning to look back over at the horizon he saw the Endeavor, a monster in these waters as he thought out the way to tell you the information that he had gotten in the weeks that had gone past. Taking a deep breath he looked back to you, “I will be disembarking from Port Royal.”
“Oh? Will you still need my help?”
He thought about it, quite frankly he could take you aboard his own ship so he could have you watch outside his own quarters upon his vessel. But would that be too selfish of him to do? He’d have you killed and he truly wouldn’t care in the slightest. It would be to benefit himself, if Jones or another man came through to get to him you’d die if you even tried to hold your ground.
“No. You’ve done what I needed you to.” Beckett spoke, “In the next few days I will be disembarking and so you may return back home to rest.”
You wanted to argue, insist that you were good at what you were doing. Protecting him. You were a soldier anyways. “Are you sure? I can come with you to the sea if I’m the best person in this whole fort.” You waved your hand toward the majority of the soldiers, “You admitted yourself.”
“Yes. I know I did. But perhaps, this time it’s best if you stay behind.”
“Do you not trust me, Lord Beckett? Do you think I’m that inexperienced that you’d have me killed? Why do you lack faith in me? I’ve done the job perfectly right here.” You motioned to where you both stood out on the balcony.
“I never claimed you were inexperienced. I have faith in you, but I do think it would be best if you stayed behind. Port Royal will need a good guard like you while I’m away.”
Being unamused at his answer your eyebrows furrowed slightly, “You’re scared to have me killed is that it?” When you noticed his eyes glance away you scoffed, “I’m not afraid to die if it means protecting you. You’re my boss after all.” You waved your hand dismissively. “Don’t forget that you also have so many other soldiers willing to die. Let alone they don’t know that because they don’t think.”
Beckett had to smirk at the last part of what you said. Yes, his soldiers truly didn’t think much of his own way of ordering them around. They did what he told without questioning, except for one, Theodore Groves was quite skeptical about his orders although the man quickly quieted himself down and did as he was told. Then you, while you had agreed to what you were told, he also noticed the fire in your eyes upon wanting to do a good job. Not standing around soldiers who played cards all day and complained about losing James Norrington under their command.
“You’re oddly quiet. Where’s that snarky reply you always come up with so quickly?”
Beckett blinked out of his thoughts, he blinked once as he was surprised at your reply at his silence. “Not present at the moment. It is quite late.” He used an excuse, a poor one, but he didn’t care. Thinking more upon your annoyance at the fact he would keep you at port. For once he truly thought about it and sighed heavily, “If you truly want to come with me aboard the Endeavor and go out to sea, then I give you one warning.” Beckett turned to look at you, stepping a bit closer. “Don’t be terrified of what horrors you’ll see.” He practically whispered in a low voice.
Backing away Beckett turned to head inside his office before he paused for a moment. He didn’t look back at you, no, instead he stood there and sighed, “We leave in two days at dawn. If you miss getting on the Endeavor, that is your fault. You have two days to take some time off.”
“Yes sir.”
When Beckett heard that he walked into his office and closed the door behind him before retreating to his desk. There, sitting upon in a small bag that was brought to him this morning was none other than the heart of Davy Jones. His hand clutched the edge of his desk as he thought back to the nightmares on how he would die.
He shouldn’t have felt guilty. Hell he should’ve kept his mouth shut about leaving and just left you in the dark. But no, he told you and you had him rethink his choices. Nobody else did that, not even Mercer. His right hand man.
And now, he knew he was leading you into certain death. But you were willing to follow, why? He wasn’t sure himself. A stupid thing to do, truly. He briefly looked behind him and saw that you had returned back to patrolling and looking up at the sky.
“Ask a friend for help. Or a trusted comrade.” He mumbled under his breath, looking back down at the letter of Marque. Was that who you were to him? He seeked you out for help, and yet not once did you judge him or question his dreams. Instead you had given him some advice. One he wouldn’t follow through, but for once in his life he was vulnerable and he allowed himself to.
Maybe that’s why he told you the news of him leaving. Maybe that’s why he was feeling a tinge but of guilt at the idea of you dying.
And who knows, maybe that’s why he could see a friend in you.