Author's Note: quick translations you need to know (I promise I won't do this often)
mon rêveur - my dreamer
je t'adore ma puce - I love you my little one
ton pére - your father
btw I love constructive criticism (I hope I spelled that right heh)
Disclaimer: much to my utter chagrin, I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, all credit for these amazing movies starring the drop dead gorgeous talented man who sadly is married goes to that darned steamboat mouse...though maybe with a bit of cheese...nah.

My Dearest Daughter,

Though I know you won't understand my reasoning, I had to do what was best for you. This life is not a life I wish you to grow up with. The boy is a boy you shouldn't correspond with. You may think I am being cruel and overprotective. I can hear your voice now telling me "Yer not bein' fair", "Ye don' understand", or "Why can' ye grasp tha' I'm all grown up?", the thing is, the fact I can in truth hear the words only a pirate dare utter, only strengthens my resolve to keep you from this cursed life, this wretched, horrid, despicable life. You deserve better mon rêveur, than an uncivilized ruffian. That is why I am sending you away. I hope that one day you will see that I am right, and that this is for the best.

Je t'adore ma puce,

ton pére

An eighteen year old Alina Carter reread her father's letter to her for what must have been the eighth time before crumpling up the pathetic scrap of parchment and throwing it overboard. She was stuck on 'The Dancing Dove' on her way to bloody Port Antoine. She scoffed at the name. What kind of pansy ninny boy names a ship 'The Dancing Dove'?! It wasn't fitting for a ship. Even if that ship were a respectable navy ship. She sighed. Oh how she missed her beloved water companion, her Fury, her precious Ocean Fury.

Three hours later in the middle of the night, Alina was rudely thrown from her bed in the only available chamber within the ship and thrust into the opposing wall as the stormy waters caused the hull to lurch. She slowly righted herself knowing full well from her years at sea that sudden movements would be no use, as during a storm the slightest of rocking feels like standing by the fault line of the quaking earth. It was then that she noticed the water soaking her ankles, and the frantic pounding coming from her door. She opened the door to see the frazzled cabin boy telling her in panicked gasps that the ship was sinking and all were called to abandon ship immediately. After sighing drastically and telling the idiot boy that next time there was a life and death situation, forget manners, and do all things necessary, she grabbed her knapsack filled with trinkets and knick-knacks that she had brought with her and tied it securely to her waste while walking out to the deck. The sight she saw both horrified and disgusted her. The so-called noblemen of the navy were rowing away in a dinghy without them. With more calm than the situation required, she turned to the panic-stricken cabin boy and said two simple words. "We're dead."

Her body was washed onto a smooth sandy shore. She could tell it was nearing the break of dawn, as she could see the first rays of pink-orange sunlight; the last thing she saw before she was claimed by the sweet, floating, darkness, were a pair of dark chocolate eyes looking worriedly down at her and drawing nearer as she was pulled up into a soft embrace.