"By the sweat of our brow, and the strength of our backs, and the courage in our hearts; Gentlemen, hoist the colors."
Never had braver words been spoken by a pirate. And not by just a pirate, but by the pirate king. And not just any king, but by a female king who – just two years previous – had been naught but a well-heeled, mollycoddled governor's daughter bound for a suffocating life of societal restrictions and obligations. Captain Hector Barbossa, Pirate Lord of the Caspian Sea, thought it was worth noting that a different version of her statement had been uttered by him when the pirate lords had gathered at Shipwreck Cove, but the fact that she'd thought enough of his words to use them in her motivating speech before they'd defeated Beckett made them far more compelling. It was a rare moment where he'd been flattered.
Barbossa snorted and shook his head as he thought of her. In his forty-eight years upon the earth, never had he seen such a drastic change in a woman. His experience had been 'once spoiled, always spoiled', but that was not so with Elizabeth Swann-Turner, Pirate King. Though raised as a proper lady by her father in Port Royal (with reluctant adherence to propriety on her part), Barbossa surmised that she'd been born with pirate blood coursing through her privileged veins.
Port Royal. Instantly, Barbossa remembered the night almost seven years ago that he'd first met Elizabeth. Even now, he still wondered how it came to be that out of all the young people there, it was she that had been brought to him. He had not told his crew to fetch "the governor's daughter" – nor anyone else in the household – and yet, there she'd stood on his deck with her hair all done up, wearing nothing but her shift in the damp night air. Most young women would have been incensed over being seen without their stuffy corsets and billowing petticoats, but he remembered how oblivious Elizabeth had seemed to her state of undress; a fact that all of the crew had thoroughly enjoyed. He hadn't allowed them any liberties, of course. He was a ruthless pirate, yes, but he never took a woman's pleasures by force – coercion perhaps, but never force – nor did he allow his crew to. The last man to commit such an act had been severely keelhauled.
As Barbossa reclined in his bed on the Imperial - a sturdy yet resplendent frigate that he'd willingly traded the Pearl back to Sparrow for - he recalled with fond amusement the only time that Elizabeth had ever screamed in fear of him. Still under that Aztec curse, he'd just finished watching as she'd ravenously torn into the dinner that he'd had prepared especially for her. He'd told her about the curse, but she hadn't believed him, so he'd decided to show her. He'd pushed her out to the main deck, where the crew had been working in the moonlight so that she could see proof of the curse for herself. Barbossa chuckled out loud. He'd enjoyed her screams at the time, and he'd been amused by them, but they were to be the last that he'd hear from her. He had to admit that he admired her fortitude.
Barbossa sighed as he allowed his thoughts to meander on. Truth was there was much that he admired about her. Yes, Elizabeth was brash, but she was no simpleton. She was a smart lass; smart to the point of being scary. She was also the only person he knew that had gotten the better of Sparrow – no one else had ever managed it, not fully. Elizabeth, with her womanly wiles, had managed to catch the shifty pirate with his guard down, successfully securing him to the ship in shackles as the Kraken had prepared for its attack. Barbossa laughed heartily at that particular memory; it was one of his favorites.
His least favorite memory, however, was marrying her to Turner. Barbossa understood love, and he understood loneliness, and he knew that Elizabeth now experienced both, which was not a desired combination. No young woman in love was happy alone, and that was the main reason why he regretted marrying them. There had been no way of telling that Jones was going to stab Turner, though, but she was still a newlywed without a husband. After all she'd done for their lot, she didn't deserve that fate. Of course, there was also the fact that his admiration bordered on wanting said lonely newlywed for himself because, truthfully, she was too adventurous – too cunning – to ever be fully satisfied with the veracious and boring whelp, but he tried to push those indecorous longings away because only a fool tested the water with both feet, and he was no fool.
"Hi yeh, Jack," Barbossa greeted when his monkey jumped onto the bed. "Ready to visit the Pirate King?" Jack jumped up and down, clapping his furry hands. "Good boy. We certainly couldn't sail right by and not offer our respects to the king, now could we?" Jack shook his head and screeched while Barbossa chuckled. "Off to bed with yeh then. We rise early in the morn."
As Jack jumped off the bed to curl up on his silk pillow on the floor, Barbossa blew out the candle in the metal lantern that hung on the wall beside the bed and settled himself between the sheets. He had to admit to himself that he was rather curious to see what had transpired in Elizabeth's life over the past three years. He genuinely hoped that she was happy because she truly deserved it.
"Lizzy, why don't you take me Pillager over to Ap Lei today?" Captain Teague suggested as he sipped Turkish coffee from a black jack, having watched the young lady wander aimlessly around Shipwreck Island for the past two days (which seemed to be all she ever did). "Go fetch yourself some pretty silks from the market."
Elizabeth smiled at Jack's father. She'd spent the past three years getting to know the salty pirate, and she'd quickly discovered where Jack had gotten his quirky personality from. When Teague had invited her to live on Shipwreck Island after Will returned to the Flying Dutchman, she'd agreed because she had nowhere to call home since her father was gone. Actually, Teague had become a father figure to her, as of late, and she'd grown to care for him a great deal. They'd spent hours together, talking and sharing stories, and they'd developed a close friendship. He was also the only one that was allowed to call her 'Lizzy'.
"I was just over there last month," Elizabeth answered with a shrug. "I don't really feel like it, anyway." Pretty silks wouldn't fill the emptiness inside of her. The trips to Ap Lei had been fun the first year or so, but she had little desire to go anymore. Every time she stepped onto the deck of the Pillager, it was just a painful tease of what she used to have.
Teague flashed his lop-sided, gold-toothed grin her way. "Well, you are the king. I suppose you can do what you want, aye?"
Elizabeth nodded in agreement. "Aye, 'tis true," she agreed, her voice devoid of any enthusiasm. "For now, I think I'll just head down to the shore and enjoy the sunrise."
"Won't make the years pass no quicker, Lizzy," Teague remarked, his deep voice a raspy growl as he drank more coffee. She practically lived on the shores of Shipwreck Island, and he wished that there was something he could do for her.
It wasn't the first time that Teague had made that comment, and she figured it probably wouldn't be the last.
"I know."
Elizabeth lumbered along the shoreline in her blouse and breeches, digging her bare toes into the wet, grainy sand with each saturnine shuffle of her feet. Life was just awful. She was the Pirate King, but what good was it? The East India Trading Company had been defeated, and it would be some time before it could be re-established – though she hoped it never was. She'd considered pirating, but somehow it just didn't have enough appeal for her. Everyone that she'd known had gone their separate ways, and she was left in a sort of void not knowing where she belonged. She was the Pirate King with no ship or crew. She was a wife with no husband. She was a daughter with no father. More often than not, she felt utterly lost and just wandered about; so much was missing from her life.
Some days, she couldn't believe that three years had passed, and other days, it seemed as if it had been twice as long. She hadn't been this melancholy the entire time, though. Understandably, she'd been sad for a while after Will left, but she'd snapped out of it after a few days. Initially, she'd kept herself busy with getting to know Teague, reading through the Code (it really was quite thorough) and scoping out Shipwreck Island.
Elizabeth had been thrilled when Teague began offering her his boat so that she could sail to Ap Lei and some other nearby ports. He'd given her plenty of gold coins to spend on whatever she'd wanted, and at first, her shopping sprees had brought her joy. Over time, however, she'd lost her enthusiasm for them. She'd bought new clothes, tried exotic foods and explored some of the foreign lands time and time again. She'd tried eavesdropping on conversations in local taverns in case she could catch any news about her previous crew mates, but she didn't understand most of the language and eventually gave up. The more trips that she took, the more she wanted to be at sea again. After her last visit to Ap Lei, she'd stayed in her room and had cried for two days.
And none of that compared to the horrific thing that she'd done during her first couple months on the near-deserted island, but Elizabeth refused to allow herself to think about that. She'd already shed tears over that, too, and she didn't fancy shedding more right now.
Her life was what it was, and short of returning to England (which she really didn't want to do), she had nowhere else to go, nor did she feel like going anywhere alone, so she just settled for counting the days until her husband's return.
Lifting a hand to shield her eyes from the orange blaze of the morning sun, Elizabeth noticed that a pinnace carrying two people was coming to shore. She saw the large ship in the distance, but it was too far away to tell who it belonged to. Great, she thought wearily. Some more of Teague's relatives. That man had more cousins than anyone she'd known, and they were always showing up unannounced. At least it passes the time.
Elizabeth casually walked towards the barkadeer to greet the assumed family members, wondering if she'd met these previously. Some of Teague's family had been rather spirited carousers (as expected) and had caused quite a ruckus during their stay, while some others had been oddly subdued and well-mannered. One of them had been so intent on having Elizabeth that Teague had had to draw his pistol on him to get him to stop his amorous advances.
As the boat got closer, Elizabeth thought to herself that the men looked awfully familiar, but she knew that it couldn't be the two she was thinking of; last she'd heard, they were on their way back the Caribbean, and that had been over two years ago.
As the pinnace reached the dock, Elizabeth couldn't believe her eyes – it was them! Her heart began to thump madly in her chest as a large smile spread across her face. She had no idea why they were there, but she was so happy that she didn't really care.
"Barbossa!" Elizabeth called out excitedly as she ran as fast as she could to the end of the dock. "Mr. Gibbs! Is it really you?" She prayed that this was not another dream because many had taunted her the past few months; when she actually slept, anyway.
"Aye, lass!" Barbossa exclaimed as he stood. "It be me last time I checked." He hadn't said anything to Gibbs as they'd sailed in, but he'd spotted Elizabeth on their approach and had watched her intently. Needless to say, he hadn't liked what he'd seen. Short of her slender figure and long hair, he hadn't recognized her slouched shoulders and listless movements at all. He'd never known Elizabeth to look so forlorn, and he mentally cursed himself (again) for marrying her to the whelp.
"It be me, as well," Mr. Gibbs confirmed with a big smile as he gathered the ropes for docking.
Barbossa stepped up on to the landing while his first mate secured the pinnace. Elizabeth couldn't stop herself from throwing her arms around the missed scallywag.
"It's so good to see you!" she exclaimed, inhaling the salty scent of the ocean spray that enveloped her. It was the perfume of those who sailed the seas, and she loved it.
Unprepared for Elizabeth's enthusiastic embrace and hesitantly putting his arms around her slim waist, Barbossa stammered, "Ah…well…it be good to see you, King Turner." He couldn't remember the last time that he'd been greeted with a hug (and such a fierce one at that) but he wouldn't deny that he liked it. He would have enjoyed a bit more physical contact with her, to be honest.
Stepping back from Barbossa and meeting his unreadable eyes, she was still smiling. "Please," she said, quickly hugging Mr. Gibbs next, who felt only slightly less awkward than the captain had. "It's always Elizabeth. Will you two come up? Teague will be so surprised to see you! Do you have the same crew? Where are you headed? Oh, you must tell me what you've been up to and – "
"Whoa there, Missy," Barbossa interrupted as they walked while Mr. Gibbs chuckled at her youthful ardor. "One question at a time, aye?" He really wasn't sure what he'd expected at their arrival, but it hadn't been this exuberance. It made him wonder why he hadn't visited before now.
Elizabeth blushed, realizing that she sounded like an impetuous child instead of a pirate king. "Forgive me," she apologized with a sheepish smile as they headed towards the cove. "It's just been rather…quiet and uneventful around here lately."
"Thought for sure the Pirate King would be kept busy," Mr. Gibbs commented, noticing that she looked even thinner than the last time that he'd seen her. Didn't she ever eat? Personally, he'd always preferred women with a little meat on their bones.
Elizabeth shook her head at Gibbs' remark. "Not at all. Let's hurry inside. You two must tell me all about the past three years."
After dinner, Teague, Elizabeth, Barbossa and Gibbs gathered around the large pockmarked table where all the pirate lords had convened previously; this meeting was much more pleasant, however.
"And so there I was, hangin' upside down with the blasted cable pinnin' me ankle to the main boon," Mr. Gibbs was saying, his grog blossoms shiny and prominent. "It's the middle of the night, and I'm callin' out to anyone who can hear me to help me get down when little Jack comes climbin' over the lines and decides to mimic me, hangin' by one of his legs. Blasted monkey. When a couple of the crew finally got to me, they had a right good laugh at me expense and called to some others to come see before finally gettin' me down."
Barbossa chuckled at the memory and took a swig from his bottle of rum. "Teach yeh to climb up to the nest loaded to the gunwalls, aye?" he quipped.
Elizabeth laughed though she felt a pang of jealousy at the stories she'd listened to all day. She missed being at sea, and she really missed the crew; Barbossa's crew, specifically. They were an eclectic mix of seadogs, to be sure, but they were good men, and in some way, like a family to her; especially since she had none.
"And you remember Murtogg and Mullfoy?" Gibbs asked, waiting for Elizabeth to nod. "Since they've gone on account, they've proved to be right good pirates. Once the captain told 'em no prey, no pay, they ain't been the least bit shy 'bout plunderin'."
Elizabeth smiled fondly as she pictured the quirky men in her mind. "I always liked them," she commented. "I'm glad that they came around."
Teague stood up then as it was getting late. "Gentlemen and King," he addressed, dipping his head. "I must retire for the night. Captain, will you and Mr. Gibbs be stayin' on?"
"We had planned to stay in port a couple days as we got a bit of careenin' to do, and I figure this be the safest place," Barbossa explained. "If that be all right with the two of you, of course."
"That be up to the lovely king over there," Teague told them and disappeared to his cove flat, but not before subtlety indicating to Barbossa with a nod of his head that he wanted a word with him.
"Well, of course you can stay," Elizabeth replied, happy to have their company again. "Maybe I can even help." She'd do just about anything to get on a ship again.
"Nay," Barbossa said, winking at Gibbs. "The Pirate King does not careen ships."
Elizabeth's eyes enlarged. "What?" she exclaimed as she stood up ready to rant. "What sort of bilge is that? You know that I'm more than capable of…what's so funny?"
Barbossa and Gibbs were snickering.
"Had a bet with the captain over how quickly he could get you in a tiff," Gibbs explained sheepishly. "He won."
Elizabeth tried to be mad – wanted to be, even – but then she laughed; she'd missed the good-natured ribbing that was commonplace amongst the crew. "Oh, you're both awful. I should make the two of you walk one of the many planks around the cove."
"But yeh won't," Barbossa finished with a wink and a knowing smirk.
With a sigh, Elizabeth agreed. "Probably not. Besides, it's late. Follow me, and I'll show you to your rooms."
After seeing the men to their quarters, Elizabeth knew that she wouldn't be falling asleep any time soon. Feeling rather melancholy, she decided to head back out to the shoreline; the sea always had soothed her sadness. It was good to see Mr. Gibbs and the captain again, but it depressed her at the same time, knowing they'd be leaving in a couple days. She felt left out, actually. Being the Pirate King was boring – truthfully – and she didn't know what to do with herself. Seven years might as well have been an eternity to her.
Elizabeth thought about her old crew mates. Three years hadn't changed them too much. Gibbs looked as if he'd lost a little weight, and Barbossa…well the captain looked the same, except for his eyes. Usually full of spark, they now looked rather tired.
Well, Elizabeth reasoned. The man must be close to fifty years old. It's understandable that he'd be a little tired. Being a pirate is not easy, even for the young.
But there was something else that Elizabeth recognized in Barbossa's eyes whenever they looked at each other. She tried to define it, but the only word that came close was camaraderie. They'd been through so much together – Isla de Muerta, Davy Jones' locker and the defeat of the East India Trading Company – and they'd spent hours together sailing and scheming. There was, however, one memory that came to mind every time she looked at Barbossa that caused her to feel something a little different than camaraderie, and she couldn't help but wonder if her presence brought the memory back in to his mind, as well.
"Remove."
Elizabeth couldn't believe the request, and she looked at Barbossa with frantic desperation in her eyes. Surely the guard was not serious.
"I assure you the lady has removed everything of offense," Barbossa told the Singaporean henchman. "Yeh be holdin' us up from more important matters, and Sao Feng will not take kindly to that."
"Remove, or neither of you go in."
Barbossa and Elizabeth glanced around, but there were no changing rooms, and he doubted that they'd be allowed to leave their current location, anyway. Apparently, she would have to change or the entire trip was for naught, and he had not traveled all that way for nothing. At the same time, he did not wish to see her humiliated.
"I'll take off me jacket and hold it around yeh," he quietly offered. "There not be much room, but it's the most modesty that I can provide. We've no time to come up with a different plan. We must get in to see Sao Feng."
Elizabeth looked around again, and she quickly decided that his offer was her only option because she knew that time was of the essence. Some modesty was better than none, she reasoned.
Chocolate met the color of the sea. "I have your word that you'll be a gentleman?"
Barbossa smirked. Even in their situation, he would not pass up an opportunity for treasure – even if it was only to look upon it.
Leaning close so that only Elizabeth could hear him, Barbossa replied, "The way I see it, since I be the one keepin' all of those lecherous eyes off of yer womanly goods, it be only fair that I get somethin' in return for my trouble."
Elizabeth opened her mouth to protest, but she quickly closed it. She wanted to argue with him, but then what if rescinded his offer? She didn't like this – not one bit – but his one set of eyes was certainly the lesser of the evils in comparison to the numerous sets that were gawking at her. Bloody pirates.
"Fine," she whispered through clenched teeth. "But I'm telling Will about this when we find him."
Elizabeth took off her few accoutrements while Barbossa shrugged his heavy coat off and held it around her like a curtain (ignoring the disappointed cat-calls from the surrounding guards). She had very little room in which to move, and she had to fold her arms against his chest where she stood to fit in the space he provided. She reminded herself that it was better than the alternative.
Holding the robe that she was to change into with her teeth, Elizabeth unfastened her shirt, tugging the sleeves up one at time while pulling her arms down before letting the material fall to the floor, which brought whistles and jeers from her audience. Reaching for the robe, she struggled to keep herself covered and get the first arm in at the same time, twisting and turning against Barbossa as she tried to figure out the best way to accomplish her task without revealing everything. Given her confines, there really was no best way. When she lifted her eyes to his, she noticed that they were taking in all of her that they could, and she pursed her lips.
"Scoundrel," Elizabeth whispered, fighting her embarrassment at the captain catching even a glimpse of her. No one except for the female maids that used to help her dress had ever seen any part of her more private areas. She was unnerved at the fact that Barbossa – of all people – was going to be the first man to see her. Truth be known, it terrified her. She kept her breasts covered as best she could, but she knew by the mischievous twinkle in his eyes that he'd seen more than she wanted him to see, and she inwardly groaned, dropping her head in shame. "This is so awful."
"I don't fancy any of these bilge rats being privy to yer womanly goods any more than you do," Barbossa quietly commented. He wasn't completely sure why he'd admitted that except maybe to try to ease her nervousness, but it was true nonetheless – he didn't want them to see any part of her.
Elizabeth stilled her movements as she was completely caught off guard by his remark. While Barbossa's expression towards her made her feel like a piece of meat about to be pounced on by a pack of ravenous wolves, his tone sounded almost possessive. It surprised her, and she heard herself saying, "You sound almost protective of me, Captain."
Barbossa did not look away from Elizabeth even though she had called his bluff. He thought of five different ways to respond to her, but given their forced intimacy at the moment, he decided that she deserved a little honesty.
"Just because I be a pirate don't mean I always want to share me treasure, lass," he told her with a wink. "Especially a treasure chest of that kind." He glanced down and back up to emphasize his point. She wasn't buxom by any means, but Barbossa had never been attracted to women who spilled out of their corsets. From the little he'd been able to see, Elizabeth's breasts were about the size of the Ashmead apples that he'd loved to eat as a kid, and he longed to take one in his hand now and have a nibble; the thought of swirling his tongue around her hardened peak made him salivate.
"Even treasure that's technically not yours?"
"It be in me care at the moment, so it's mine for now."
Barbossa's statements eased Elizabeth's trepidation, and for an instant, it was as if they were alone in the oriental bathhouse. He thought of her as treasure? And as 'his' treasure? She couldn't help but grin at his compliment, and that's when her embarrassment changed, but she couldn't say what it had changed into exactly. Her anger melted away as there was something rather exciting about Barbossa's hungry eyes upon her – something wonderfully exhilarating – and she relaxed her arms somewhat. She told herself not to ask the question that was on the tip of her tongue, but her sense of propriety always had been lacking.
"So, I take it that you like what you see then if you're claiming possession of it?"
Barbossa stole another peek at her pert breasts and licked his parched lips; it had been too long for such indulgences. Unfortunately, this was neither the time nor the place to continue that type conversation, though if circumstances had been different, he would have gladly taken her to the nearest private room to see how quickly he could have made her a woman. "Aye, and if yeh keep tauntin' me with it, I'll be plunderin' me treasure as soon as we get outta this bathhouse. Now finish changin'."
Elizabeth was momentarily shocked at Barbossa's forthrightness, and she wasn't sure if he was serious or not. As she stared into his eyes that seemed to devour her whole, he made no attempt to hide his desire for her, and she knew that her face was bright red. The only other man to cause her to have such deviant thoughts had been Jack – and they had been 'very' deviant.
"Aye, Captain," she quietly replied as she quickly slipped the robe on, tied the sash securely around her waist and then dropped her breeches so that Barbossa could put his coat back on. They had an agenda, and she needed to focus on that and not the heat in the captain's eyes, though she couldn't deny that it made her wish for more of his attention.
"Thank you," Elizabeth added and tried to avoid looking at the captain for some time.
That moment with Barbossa had burned itself into Elizabeth's brain. What started out as embarrassing had turned into something quite sensual, especially to her being inexperienced at the time, and though it had not been her choice, it had still been the first time that a man had looked upon her unclothed – or somewhat unclothed – with blatant lust in his eyes. A woman's initial sexual experience (even an awkward one) changed her – Elizabeth understood that now – and that moment had created a bond between her and the captain; it had changed the way that they'd interacted with each other afterwards. How could it not have?
Even earlier that day, when Elizabeth had looked into Barbossa's eyes, she was instantly taken back to that bathhouse, and she found herself hoping that he remembered it, too. Shaking her head to clear her misguided thoughts, Elizabeth told herself that she was just being silly. Captain Barbossa was a worldly man; he'd seen many women in varying states of undress over his lifetime, and he'd lusted after even more - she was just another one of the many, and she was certain that it had meant little to him.
She never did tell Will what had happened.
As she sat in the damp sand, Elizabeth listened to the waves crashing to the shore and sighed heavily. None of it mattered now, anyway. In a couple days, Barbossa and Gibbs would be gone, and she would return to being bored and alone.
"Yo ho, yo ho, some pirate's life for me," Elizabeth half-sang in sarcasm as she shook her head sadly.
"Yeh wanted to see me, Captain Teague?" Barbossa asked when he caught up with Jack's father after slipping from his room.
Teague was lounging on a settee in a small sitting room outside of his sleeping quarters while he cleaned his pistol. The room was hazy from a lit cigar, and it was filled with chests and other trinkets that he'd stolen over the years. "What be yer headin', Hector?"
When one was summoned by the Keeper of the Code, one answered whatever question said Keeper asked.
"The Colonies."
Teague nodded as he focused on the pistol; it was his favorite. "Piratin'?"
Barbossa smirked. "Of course."
Teague nodded again as he wiped the barrel down. "Did yeh come here to ask Lizzy to join yeh?"
Barbossa instantly understood what the older pirate was telling him, and he wasn't the least bit surprised. A twisted part of him was even glad. "She's been miserable, hasn't she?"
Teague's eyes lifted to Barbossa's then, and his solemn expression was telling. "Aye."
"Well, I'd be honored to have the king on me ship," Barbossa told the Keeper. He had considered asking her, but he hadn't known if Elizabeth would want to leave the island because of Turner's eventual return. After spending the day with her, though, it was easy to tell that she was ready to leave.
Teague nodded again. "Good. Go tell her the news. For a while there, I thought that I might have to blow her down and put her out of her misery."
When Teague chuckled, Barbossa tried to smile in return, but it came across as a grimace at best. Sometimes he didn't know how far the old pirate's humor went; he did carry around the shrunken head of his wife, after all.
"I'll go tell her right now."
It didn't take long for Barbossa to find Elizabeth. He'd assumed that she was by the shore, and that's exactly where he found her.
"Thought yeh were goin' to bed."
Elizabeth jumped, being too lost in her dismal thoughts to hear someone approaching her from behind.
"You scared me," Elizabeth told him as Barbossa sat down beside her.
"Apologies."
"I wasn't sleepy," she continued, answering his original question.
"I see," Barbossa commented, leaning back on his hands, the gritty sand scratching his palms. "Stay up a lot, do yeh?"
Elizabeth shrugged as she pulled her knees up to her chest and then wrapped her arms around them. "I sleep."
"Every night?"
"Most nights."
Barbossa nodded. "Losin' sleep won't make him return no quicker."
"That's what Teague says."
"He be a wise ol' pirate."
"That's not it. Well, not all of it, anyway." Elizabeth thought that maybe she'd said too much, but if she couldn't confide in the captain about her longing to be at sea, who could she confide in?
"What do you mean? Not all of what?"
Elizabeth sighed and threw a shell that she'd been playing with towards the shoreline. "It's being out at sea," she confessed with a heavy heart. "That's what I miss the most."
"So join me crew." That was easy enough, Barbossa thought smugly.
As the moonlight cast a silvery glow upon them, Elizabeth turned to face Barbossa, incredulous at his nonchalance towards her admittance. "Don't you understand? I'm supposed to be pining away for my husband, not the sea." She was an awful wife for desiring to be on a ship more than being with her husband. Of course she missed Will, but it was the sea that caused tears to wet her pillow at night.
Barbossa didn't see what the problem was. "Can't yeh pine fer both?"
Elizabeth looked away and wondered if she should tell Barbossa what she'd done. In an odd way, she felt as if she were talking to an old friend, and she longed to confide in him. Teague was a friend, too, but in a different way, and besides, he already knew of her abomination. Still, she felt too guilty about what she'd done to tell anyone else; Elizabeth absentmindedly rubbed her wrist and decided to keep her shame to herself.
"Yes, I suppose that I do pine for both," she finally responded. "I guess…I know that Will is unreachable, so I've put him out of my head somewhat. But the ocean, it's right there, calling out to me, teasing me with its crashing waves and whispers of freedom. I've missed being on a ship more than I thought I would."
Barbossa nodded in understanding; he knew the call of the ocean all too well as the bug had bit him rather young, as well. "Yeh got seven more long years," he reminded her, sitting up and brushing his hands together to rid them of sand. "If yeh continue to mope around here, you'll be a miserable woman when he does finally return. That won't be no good for either one of yeh. The Pirate King belongs on a ship."
Elizabeth smirked and looked at Barbossa. "Your ship?"
Barbossa shrugged as he gazed out at the ocean shrouded in darkness save for the moonlight dancing on the water's choppy surface. "Perhaps."
"Don't toy with my delicate emotions like that."
Barbossa chuckled heartily and looked at Elizabeth squarely. "There be nothin' delicate 'bout yer emotions. They be fiery maybe, but not delicate."
Elizabeth smiled, almost afraid to believe that Barbossa's offer was genuine. "So, I'm invited to join your crew?" She wanted to be on a ship again so bad she could taste it, and if he was teasing her, she'd march him to the nearest plank and make him walk it.
"Aye."
"I'd considered returning to England," she shared. "I spent the first twelve years of my life there, you know."
Barbossa snorted derisively. "Fancy findin' yerself dancin' a jig with Jack Ketch, do yeh? Nay; pirate kings don't belong in England."
"But they belong on your ship?"
"That they do," Captain Barbossa answered, standing and brushing off the sand from his clothes before heading back in. "So, get to bed. I don't need no tired and listless crewman aboard me ship."
Elizabeth quickly stood and walked with him. "Aye, Captain," she replied, feeling better than she had in quite some time. "And thank you." She was getting back on a ship! Finally!
"No need to thank me," Barbossa growled with a shake of his head as they walked. "I ain't doin' yeh a favor. You've proved yourself worthy many times over."
Even in the dark, Elizabeth felt the heat rise to her cheeks at his recognition. She knew that compliments did not fall from Captain Barbossa's lips easily. She smiled all the way back to her chamber and, for the first night in three years, she fell asleep just minutes after going to bed.
Three days later, Elizabeth climbed aboard the Imperial after Mr. Gibbs hoisted her trunk up with the capstan. The ship was built very much like the Pearl had been with just a few differences. The spar deck carried carronades for when they had to fight at close range, and the gun deck (just below it) was lined with more heavy guns than the Pearl had had. The next deck – the berthing deck – featured more room for the crew, and even had space for a small hospital, if necessary. Instead of being painted black, the Imperial was made of oak and pine, and it cast a much less ominous presence in the ocean when its ivory-colored sails were unfurled.
Elizabeth thought that it was beautiful.
Later that evening, after Elizabeth had spent the day familiarizing herself with the new ship and its workings, she strolled into Barbossa's quarters – without knocking – to find out what their exact heading was.
Barbossa, who had been studying his map, stood up quickly when he heard the door open. No one dared to enter his cabin without knocking, so he wasn't sure if he was angry or amused when he saw who it was.
"Forget how to knock, did yeh?" Barbossa decided that he was more amused…this time.
Elizabeth sauntered over to the table and sat down in one of the chairs, casually lifting her boots up to rest on the edge. She knew that she was testing her parameters, but she wanted to see how far she could go.
"King," she reminded him with a smirk that dared him to argue with her.
Barbossa rolled his eyes and huffed as he sat back down. "Blasted Sparrow votin' in a woman king," he muttered to himself. "I don't suppose you'd try knockin' next time, aye?"
"I'm disinclined to acquiesce to your request," Elizabeth quickly replied, mischief twinkling in her eyes. She wouldn't say it out loud, but she was almost giddy about being back on a ship, and the fact that she was with this particular crew again just made it even better. She was happy.
Shaking his head, Barbossa couldn't hide his smile. "Ornery strumpet," he called her with a hint of something that loosely resembled affection. He'd never voice his thoughts, but it was good to have her around again, even if she stirred up longings that he was forced to restrain.
Elizabeth dropped her jaw in feigned offense at his playful insult, but then she started laughing. "I'll be a compassionate king and let that remark go," she teased with a raised eyebrow.
Barbossa dipped his head in mock appreciation. "Much obliged," he replied properly. "Now get yer dirty boots off of my damn table!" He couldn't resist barking at her, though he knew it did not have the same effect that it had had a couple years previous. Shame, that.
Elizabeth quickly complied and then leaned over to look at the map. "The Colonies? We're going to the Colonies?" She'd not expected that particular heading as she knew it would take weeks to get there.
Barbossa didn't miss the surprise in her voice. "That be our destination," he confirmed.
"Why?"
Barbossa rolled his eyes again. "And yeh be a nosey strumpet, too."
"Well, if I was looking at a map of the Colonies, wouldn't you be a little curious as to why?"
Barbossa sighed. He'd forgotten just how tenacious Elizabeth could be. He'd wanted to wait until a few days into their voyage before sharing what his plans were, but something told him that she wouldn't wait that long, so he decided to test her allegiance.
"We're going to help them fight the British for their independence," Barbossa revealed.
Elizabeth didn't bat an eye at his statement. "What's in it for us?"
Barbossa should have known that he would have a difficult time fazing Elizabeth. "We get to keep the booty and whatever else we like from the ships that we take as long as we prevent them from reaching the shoreline." He really didn't want to explain everything – nor did he have to – so he stuck with short answers.
"Are there documents that state this?"
Smart lass, Barbossa thought. "There be Letters of Marque waitin' for us."
Elizabeth's eyes grew large. "Letters of Marque?" she replied indignantly, her brows furrowing together. "But that's –"
"I know what it is," Barbossa growled with a tone that warned her not to press the issue. "There has been word through the ports of other pirates cleanin' up better than ever. I'll not miss an opportunity to line my pocket." It was not the entire reason, but that's all she needed to know.
Elizabeth crossed her arms where she sat. Letters of Marque weren't the same as being truly free, but if it proved to be lucrative, she supposed it would be acceptable, though a tiny part of her was a little suspicious. She was dealing with a pirate, after all, so there was always an ulterior motive. "You realize that I'm from England," she reminded him.
Barbossa nodded. "Aye, you were born in England, but the blood in yer veins be that of pirates," he told her, eyes glittering in the dimly lit room.
Elizabeth wanted to argue with him, but she couldn't; there was too much truth in his words. "You think that you've got me all figured out, don't you," she asked rhetorically, briefly wondering if their verbal sparring would continue throughout the voyage. Secretly, she hoped so because – God help her – she liked it, though she told herself that she was just starved for attention.
Barbossa chuckled and sat back in his chair. "No, Missy," he corrected with a shake of his head. "Never been able to figure out lasses."
Elizabeth pursed her lips. "Don't call me that."
"What?"
"Missy."
Barbossa lifted an eyebrow, thinking it interesting that a meaningless nickname bothered her, but that fighting her homeland invoked no reaction. "If'n yeh'll knock, I won't call yeh 'Missy'," he offered.
Elizabeth smiled then. "A bargain?"
"A bargain," Barbossa agreed, leaning forward to study his map again. "Now get out of me cabin before I drop yeh off at the nearest bathhouse."
The shocked expression on Elizabeth's red face as she left caused Barbossa to laugh heartily.
This was certainly going to be an interesting voyage.
Ahoy Mateys! I'm posting this in celebration of the premiere of POTC On Stranger Tides. I can't wait to see it!
For those reading Irish Eyes, don't worry - I will be finishing that one before I continue with this one.
I do not have a beta for this story, but I always want another set of eyes to look over my work. Anyone with nautical/pirate knowledge would be a big help because I will admit that my 'ship lingo' isn't up to par.
Obviously, this story features Barbossa and Elizabeth as its pairing (even though she's married), so if that bothers you might want to continue on; this vessel might take you to a destination that you don't wish to visit! Those who think that B & E make the better pairing, climb aboard!
I'm always open to comments, suggestions and KIND constructive criticism, and I will reply to every review that I receive! Thanks for reading!