To Make The Compass Point To Shipwreck Cove
Fanfiction: Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End
Rating: K
Characters: Cutler Beckett, Davy Jones, Will Turner, Murtogg
Disclaimer: Only borrowing them. Not sure I'll give them back, though. All credit to the big-eared mouse.
When Will Turner arrives with Jack's compass to lead Beckett to Shipwreck Cove, everything seems assured. But what if no one wants that most?
The compass swung gently from Will Turner's fist. "What is it you want most?" They stared at his triumphant smirk for a moment before he tossed the square black box in a quick movement to Beckett, who snagged the dark cord by reflex only.
He snapped it open with mock good humor and sighed when it swiveled to point at the pistol lying on the desk to his left, as he had suspected it would. He threw it sourly back at Turner.
Will turned it in his hands, looking curious. "What do you want most?"
Beckett didn't bother to answer. "What is our heading, Mr. Turner?"
Will flipped back the compass lid as he had several times on his journey here. The needle spun and fixated on a point somewhere to his left, rotated to the north and resolved itself to whirling slowly. "Um..."
Beckett made a soft noise of disgust. "Give it to Jones." Will threw it across the room, and Jones caught it with a soft 'clack' in his monstrous crab claw.
"What is this?" he snarled, eying the gently turning dial inside.
"A compass belonging to the pirate Jack Sparrow."
"It does not point north!"
Beckett refrained from rolling his eyes and leaned back against the table. "No, it does not. Do we have a heading, Jones?"
"What do you want most?" Will repeated, this time to Jones.
Davy stared at him, calculating and then abruptly began to laugh. "Not Shipwreck Cove, Master Turner!" He slammed the compass down on the table.
Beckett massaged his forehead with the tips of his fingers. "Perhaps you wish to revise your plan, Mr. Turner."
Will glanced back and forth between Beckett and Jones, seeming nervous. "Surely someone here wants most to get there!"
Beckett raised an eyebrow. Scooping the compass off the table, he examined it's fixed needle intently. Closing his eyes, he attempted to change the course of his emotions. He opened his eyes. The needle wavered briefly and then resolved itself quite immovably. He cursed beneath his breath. This wasn't going to get him anywhere. He glanced up at Turner, who was studying him with a faint turn of amusement about the corners of his mouth, as if wondering what he could possibly want more than finding Shipwreck Cove. Beckett did not intend to enlighten him.
"Yet that does person does not seem to be you, Mr. Turner."
The smile vanished.
"Make that compass point to Shipwreck Cove, Mr. Turner, or there's no deal."
Suddenly, Will pulled a pistol from his belt and waved it at the ceiling. "Surely someone can be persuaded that our course is what he wants most?"
Davy Jones laughed harshly and pivoting on his wooden leg, pulled the door open with a frame-popping jerk. He seized the first man outside and clamping his claw about the poor unfortunate's neck, dragged him into the cabin.
Beckett started to protest at the damage being dealt his cabin, but decided it wasn't worth it. "Ah, Mr. Murtogg."
Murtogg gaped at him with popping eyes over the crustaceous appendage about his throat. "S-sir," he stammered.
"Mr. Jones, I do believe you're strangling him, which might be slightly counter-productive to our aims."
Jones released him with a soft crunch and Murtogg fell to his knees, gasping. Beckett swung the compass in front of his eyes.
"What do you want most, Mr. Murtogg?"
"S-sir?"
"Get up."
Murtogg scrambled to his feet, his gaze flickering uneasily from Jones to Beckett. Beckett handed him the compass and he took it reluctantly.
"Open it."
Murtogg did so cautiously, as though fearful it would explode. The needle tilted lazily, then rocketed around to a point somewhere behind Murtogg's shoulder. Beckett didn't bother to ask.
"Wh-what?" Murtogg stared at the compass in confusion then up at Beckett's face. "I didn't do anything, sir, I swear, it-"
"It's not broken, Mr. Murtogg. Now, I asked you what you wanted most, because I would think-" He picked the pistol up off the desk and placed the barrel against Murtogg's temple, "-it would be some way to keep this bullet from your brain pan." He half-cocked the pistol with his other hand and the needle of the compass shot around to fixate, trembling, on the gun.
"Am I right?"
Murtogg stared at him, mouth opening uselessly, hands shaking.
"Yes or no?"
Murtogg nodded shakily and Jones began to laugh. Murtogg did not take this as a good sign and his eyes squeezed shut.
"Excellent," Beckett breathed. Murtogg's eyes popped open.
"Now, the only thing preventing my killing you, would be if you could lead me to one Shipwreck Cove. All of which means, what you really want most is to lead me there. Do we have a heading, Mr. Murtogg?"
Murtogg stared at him in confused terror, clearly thinking, 'How am I going to do that?' The needle wavered vaguely, then stuck back on the point closest to the gun against his temple. Beckett gave a frustrated sigh, and full-cocked the gun. "Once more, Mr. Murtogg. Do we have a heading?"
Murtogg's eyes glued frantically to the compass in his hand, willing it to change in some miraculous way, having no idea what he was trying to do. The metal barrel dug into his temple and he abandoned all hope, jamming his eyes closed again.
"Wait," a voice said softly. Jones hissed in annoyance and Murtogg opened his eyes. He noted Turner suddenly standing beside Beckett with confusion but shot him a 'save me' expression.
Will placed a hand lightly on Beckett's arm. "He's no more help to us terrified out of his mind than strangled."
Beckett eyed him coolly, then looked pointedly at the hand on his arm. When Will pulled his hand back, Beckett aimed the gun at the deck and uncocked it with a loud snap.
"This one fears death," Davy Jones growled in satisfaction, leaning close enough that his fishy breath blasted Murtogg in the face. Murtogg whimpered softly.
"Mr. Jones," Beckett announced loudly, "As you are no more capable of leading us to Shipwreck Cove than Turner or myself, you are no longer required in this conversation. You may go." Jones looked as if he would argue, but after a moment, he contented himself with a soft snarl, and a hate-filled look, and stalked from the cabin in his lurching way, shoving crew members aside. The door slammed to behind him.
"Sailor," Will murmured when Jones had gone, pulling Murtogg's gaze back, "We have a need to find Shipwreck Cove. Take us there, and you stay in one piece."
Murtogg glanced up at his serious, dark eyes and nodded hastily. Holding the compass tightly in both hands, he closed the lid and his eyes, took a deep breath, muttered what sounded like a prayer, rattled the compass slightly and flipped it open. A second later he dared a look.
The needle was now swaying lightly, focused on a point nearly on par with their current course.
Seeing Murtogg's relieved expression, Beckett leaned around Will and studied the gently rocking compass. "Good job, sailor. I expect you to focus on that destination like your life depends on it for the rest of our voyage. Oh wait," he paused for a cruel smile. "I suppose it does, doesn't it?"
He strode forward, clapping the stunned Murtogg on the shoulder, and threw open the door.
"Lieutenant, adjust course two points to starboard, full canvas. This man," he indicated Murtogg with a careless sweep of his hand, "will provide any further bearings."
"Yes, sir."
Beckett turned around. "Mr. Murtogg?"
"Aye, sir?"
Beckett stroked the pistol grip with his thumb and gestured it casually at Murtogg. "No mistakes. Get me there on the swiftest course or I can't guarantee what Mr. Turner here has said." He smiled as Murtogg staggered past him, colliding with things as he dared not lift his eyes from the compass he clutched like a lifeline. That compass would prove very useful once Sparrow was dead.