Title: Across the Universe - Chapter 1
Author: Gea / gealuv
Disclaimer: Ze mouse owns it, I swear. And ze beatles own any references to 'Across the Universe'.
Rating: PG - R as time goes on
Pairings: J/E, W/E, even some slight B/E if I feel like it
Summary: Jack Sparrow returns to Shipwreck Cove to persuade Elizabeth Swann to help him in the hunt for the fountain of youth. Across the world they go in search of they mystic water in hopes of living forever, while Elizabeth struggles between her loyalties and her heart.
Beta: many thanks to savvysparrowluv
Author's Notes: Yes, crappy summary but to be honest, I've never been all too good at them anyway. I hope you are tempted enough though to read and enjoy it enough to stick around.

Across the Universe - Chapter 1

'Words are flowing out like endless rain into a paper cup'

It had appeared to be any other night for the patrons and barmaids of The White Wench tavern, as young Addison bounced about the room, dispensing tankards of grog and minding her backside as a few swiped lecherously at her rear. The humidity that hung in the air assembled beads of sweat at the nape of her neck as she made her rounds with a cheerful grin and a graceful step.

'That poor brute Thompson came wandering into me shop today. Looking for his Asian bride, he says! Poor sod won't…'

'The whole lot of them…swallowed by a monster as big as the whole isle of Shipwreck! Row of teeth as big as a ship, says me cousin…'

'Marcy! Ye know her right as the one who fancied a roll in the hay with Jimmy 'One Eye' a few months back…'

Addison kept a sharp ear to the exchanges around her. Gossip leaked from the outside world seemed to be her only retribution for her life within the tavern. Hardly ever could she find the time to do anything but wait on costumers and clean tables. Seeing as she came from such an impoverished background, working the bar appeared to be her only choiceSo, she kept an acute ear to the conversations to pass the time. Hearing about almost everyone's business without ever stepping foot into town or in fact, even once meeting them was routine. Keeps me sane, she had once told her sick mother who lay in bed questioning her daughter's fateful imprisonment to the tavern. That was her life, and as much as she would have liked to have whined and complained, there was no way out of it.

Sweeping through the crowds after finishing her rounds, she slipped neatly past Fanny McDougaon, her matron barmaid, who paid her attention to the scene behind young Addison. Dodging the tray that swayed on the flat of her palm, she watched as the old woman toddled by with a twisted scowl. Addison, minding the wench's age and foul temperament kept quiet and went behind the bar. Most of the other barmaids who worked alongside her were well into their thirties, making her the youngest to work there but giving her the most esteem it appeared as they not only worked the tavern but the inn up stairs as well. Seeing as Fanny and her mother, who had worked at the tavern before she'd fallen ill, were on friendly terms, Fanny had allowed Addison serve the patrons' grog and rum and nothing else.

Wiping down the counter, she beheld the sight of the tavern, drinking in the merry uproar and flurry of music that took to the air around her. There was laughter and dancing and not a single face faltered from its cheerful demeanor. There were few even, Addison noted, who kept to the shadows, whispering indecencies into the ears of their lovers whom they called their own for that one, single night. It was never this blissful, bearing in mind that this particular tavern was situated on the rougher side of Shipwreck Cove. Still, it was far from being any sort of problem as it counted more like a break than anything for the young girl who was used to fending off drunkards and ducking beneath tables whenever a brawl broke out.

"She's comin', ye know." Taken from her musings, the barmaid glanced over her shoulder to find an elderly man hunched over his mug, eyeing her through a veil of unkempt hair. Though very old, he seemed quite sturdy with calloused hands and a heavy coat resting on his shoulders. She stared back for a moment, wondering if the man was addressing her.

"Who's coming?" she questioned warily as she approached him. The man shifted slightly in his seat, earnestly passing the tankard between his hands.

"The one carryin' the beatin' chest."

Addison watched as he tipped his head back to finish what was left of his grog, studying the white scar that ran down the length of his face until it was hidden beneath the collar of his shirt. She swallowed nervously, drawing closer to him with bright eyes and quivering hands. As she opened her mouth to speak, she was hushed by Fanny's shrill beckoning from across the noisy room. Her gaze lingered on the man whose eyes were fixated on the floor before she paced towards the end of the counter, hoping he'd stay put for questioning while she was gone.

In a matter of minutes, Addison had dealt with the fussy hag who had insisted she be the one to tend to a spill before she returned to find the old man had vanished. She propped her elbows up onto the counter top, cradling her head in the palm of her hands. The one carrying the beating chest…Well, didn't everyone's chest beat with their heart? But still, how could one carry their beating chest?The man had spoken in riddles that she simply could not puzzle out. Addison stared down at the wood beneath her fingers, lost in thought, as she traced over the etchings dug into it. The carvings were like scars on the timber made by the blade of a knife or some other sharp edge. She slowed her movements, suddenly realizing all too well the person whom the man had been referring to.

Captain Elizabeth Turner; Pirate Lord of Singapore, King of the Brethren Court. Such a grand title would fit only the strongest of warriors. One who had seen and done things with naught but conviction, who had battled the odds and who fought for their cause with passion and vigor. Yet, the first time Addison Baker laid eyes on the frail figure that stepped through the parted crowd near the doorway, the name would have never crossed her mind. In that moment, the laughter and music died and silence blanketed the tavern. Nearly every pair of eyes locked onto the woman in rags as she dragged herself through the dumbstruck crowds towards the bar where Addison gawked with the rest of the pale faces. Tucked neatly beneath her arm was the small chest with such a grand legend that it broke the silence into a fit of whispers.

'The pirate king, she's returned?'

'I heard it be Captain Teague who ordered her te' come back and rule – was me brother who told me, I swear!'

'Is it true she fought the devil himself for her husband's soul?'

'Nah, she be a widowed king now. Heard she found 'im bedding the very goddess who bedded Davy Jones before 'im! That is till the king took 'is heart out and locked it in the chest.'

Addison's face screwed irritably at the gossiping vermin who dared to talk about their king while she was well in earshot. Still, Elizabeth seemed oblivious as she perched herself onto one of the barstools and set the chest on the seat next to her.

'What a terrible sight she is from the princess she once was! Oh, you didn't know? She comes from honest-to-goodness blue blood!'

'You're spinning lies, wench. It be that madcap Sparrow who took out his heart and gave it to the king. Said something bout livin' forever without it, I think.'

"A bottle of rum, please." Addison quickly shut out the mutters around her and turned her gaze to the woman seated before her. By her body structure, she seemed nothing to fear; a thin almost skeletal being with her garments barely clinging to her skin. And although her facial aspects were beyond stunning, she looked exhausted and trapped in the depths of her melancholy. The young girl could even detect the black rings beneath her eyes signifying more than one sleepless night for the once vigorous king. This couldn't be the Elizabeth. Still, there was a certain air to her, she noticed. Whether it was the sharp angle of her chin or the stern glint in her great brown eyes, Addison could tell somewhere beneath her withered exterior lay a spirited warrior — a spirited pirate.

With great haste, the barmaid rushed off to fetch a bottle of their finest rum and returned with both the drink and an empty mug in hand. She placed it down in front of Elizabeth who had been staring at the floor, a doubloon flipping back and forth across the flat of her knuckles as she was rapt in her own private thoughts. The gold piece was trapped between the crevasse of her middle and forefinger when she stopped its movement and laid it flat on the counter for Addison to collect. With nimble fingers, she reached for the gold while Elizabeth dismissed the mug and eagerly swilled from the bottle instead.

From what she could hear, the wave of gossip was muffled beneath the casual banter of the tavern which was in turn drowned out by the recurring outbreaks of music. As Addison pretended to go on about her business around the bar cleaning mugs and serving drinks, she kept a lingering eye on the pirate king who went on drinking her rum and casting furtive glances to those who brushed by the chest beside her. She would have been lying if she said she wasn't at all tempted to bombard Elizabeth with a flurry of questions but a tug at her gut seemed to keep her at bay. From past nights and remnants of conversations, she'd gathered Elizabeth to be a testy woman with no time to settle truth from inane prattle.

-- 'sept for when it comes to ol' Jack Sparrow, Pintel tells me; crewed the Black Pearl, I swear by it. Said King Turner, formerly known as Swann says he, and Cap'n Sparrow used to squabble day n' night! Addison had heard one of the patrons of the bar affirm to another late one night. By her naivety, she couldn't help but fall victim to the rumors half the time; forgetting that most of what she heard was complete rubbish. Although it was quite ordinary, she found, for the subject of Jack Sparrow to be uttered in the same breath as Elizabeth.

Her cheeks reddened as she recalled the stories she had heard of the infamous captain – or non-captain, depending on who was telling the story. She had never met him and hoped for her protected virtue she never would upon hearing about the numerous women he had bedded by luring them in with pure charm. Of course from this, countless rumors retold in the same fashion had surfaced that in exchange for rescuing a goddess she granted him the power to woo any woman who so much as glanced his way. She scoffed at the mere thought of it, scrubbing harder at the table top in a huff.

"Do you always take your work this seriously?" a voice queried from her right. Addison started at the sound, gaping at the woman who leaned into her hand as she took another swig of rum. The barmaid looked back at the rag caught between her fists before tossing it on the counter as if it were diseased. Elizabeth simply raised a brow in what Addison seemed to note as amusement.

"No, not usually, your highness." she willed herself to speak, inwardly smacking herself for appearing like such a fool. The pirate king drummed her fingers against the neck of the bottle as she averted her gaze to the chest.

"I'm looking for someone; I wonder if you'd know where I can find him." Her eyes never left the sight of the chest.

"I'm quite familiar with the residents of Shipwreck Cove, your liege. If you give me the name I'm sure I could assist you." Addison reviewed her carefully picked words, relishing in the properness of them. Elizabeth half smiled to herself as if she were retracing something in her mind.

"Captain Teague. Do you know where I can find him?" The barmaid, whose face faltered a bit at the name drop before she collected herself coolly, responded,

"Yes, but there's no sense in me explaining to you where to locate him as he's almost impossible to find if you don't know where to look, your majesty. I'd be happy to show you to him though, your grace, once I finish my shift." Elizabeth smirked in spite of her obvious exhaustion and remarked,

"Agreed on the condition that you end these foolish titles you continue calling me by." Addison could feel her face grow hot as she nodded stupidly and agreed to the terms. "Good. I'm Elizabeth Tur—," Elizabeth's hand hovered in mid-air for a moment as her eyes clouded and she stopped to correct herself before extending her arm fully, "Swann. My name is Captain Elizabeth Swann." Addison noted the alteration, suddenly wondering whether the rumor of the king's falling out with her husband had actually been true. Disregarding it for the time being, she shook Elizabeth's hand.

"I'm Addison Baker."

Addison pressed her ear to the wood, struggling to decipher the conversation muffled behind the door. After she had finished work, she had eagerly led Elizabeth through the winding streets of Shipwreck Cove to where she had overheard on numerous accounts whereCaptain Teague lived. Finding the general area where the high stacked ship-wreck apartments that belonged to the Keeper were was simple as all the residentes of the Cove knew which area he rented out. Remembering certain details like exactly which one he stayed in though was a different story. Fortunately after a few lucky guesses, the young girl's humiliation was spared when the fearsome man appeared behind one of the doors that opened to them. She was nothing if not invisible to him as he had motioned the king into his quarters with no more than a wave and an irritated 'I've been waiting.' Addison had hesitantly turned on her heel to leave for home before Elizabeth kindly instructed her to stay and wait for her out in the hall.

Addison further forced herself upon the door, her acute ear straining against the barrier between them. If there was one thing she couldn't resist, it was other people's business.

--

Elizabeth shifted slightly in the elaborately furnished chair she had been offered as she drummed her fingers against the grand, oak table. Her initial presumptions of what the homes ofShipwreck Covewere like had turned out to be true. It appeared that almost all of the insides of the buildings matched their outer exteriors. Teague's dwelling alone was an example of complete disorganization and a lack of consistency in fixtures. Various books and pages of paper crowded the far end of the table with tiny bobbles and feathers hidden in between. Even the shelves that lined the far walls were dissimilar in craftsmanship and teeming with foreign trinkets that distinctly reminded her of the former Tia Dalma's hovel on the Pantano River. The Persian rug that carpeted the stained ship floorboards were decorated with intricate patterns and frayed edges to add a sense of homeliness to the flat. It was humble, to say the least, and frankly Elizabeth wouldn't have pictured it any other way.

"I see you've not buried the chest yet," Teague noted as he poured himself a glass of brandy,which she found particularly interesting for a pirate. She averted her gaze to the trunk settled on the seat beside her. Elizabeth found she had quite the habit of placing the chest on chairs or stools as if it were still fully apart of a person.

"No, not yet," she uttered, her fingertips tenderly ghosting across the lid. How could she even think of burying it when she couldn't even shake the unintentional notion that her husband still embodied the heart now locked within? No, not husband, not anymore. Elizabeth hushed her inner prodding. No matter if Will had, in principle, died, and no matter if she was destined never to see him again if only thrice in her entire life, he was still her husband. That must be why you go by the name Swann still then, correct? When had her mind become so unruly? It felt as if the crossing to the locker had rattled her wits as much as Jack's.

Teague cleared his throat to fill the discomfort that hung in the air before he took another sip of brandy. From the first impression she'd had of him, Elizabeth had not felt Teague to be a compassionate man but she figured in a situation like this is would be far better to have someone as detached as possible. She didn't need someone asking questions, demanding answers since as far as she was concerned they could all go to hell. She made a habit of muffling out the gossip and concentrating on her own business when she was in public. What did they know anyway?

"I'm arranging for your chambers to be ready for you by tomorrow but for now, you'll stay in the vacant room next door." Elizabeth registered his words a second time over.

"You don't honestly believe I'm going to live here, in the heart of Shipwreck, do you?" Teague stared at her, drooping black eyes bearing into her intently.

"And just where do you wish to go then?" Elizabeth merely blinked. For the first time, realized that she had never taken any thought to what her future held. The past year had been such an ongoing journey that when it finally came to settling down, she felt entirely lost. Being trapped within the confines of the town seemed out of the question, but attempting at a life beyond the Cove seemed just as inane. Why hadn't she given this any thought? Again, she peered over at the chest that silently pled its case to her keen ear.

"Perhaps we can come to some kind of agreement."

"I'm listening," he replied, angling his face so that the rim of his hat cast a shadow over his face against the candlelight.

"Let me build myself a house on one of the knolls by the seaside. I'll even find some sort of work to pay you with for the materials." He seemed to study her face for a moment before retaliating in a brusque manner,

"I assume these apartments are not to your liking?"

"No, they're wonderful, really. It's simply that I would rather be on my own and away from the bustle of the city. I beg of you not to mistake my preference as aversion to stay here, though."

It was clear by the twitch of his brow that he was anything but amused with the way she danced around the affront with her refined vocabulary. Still, it seemed to do the trick as he nodded slightly and finished off the last of his brandy.

"I only hope you aren't expecting any aid from me, child." Elizabeth smirked.

"I wouldn't dream of it." Beneath the shade of his hat, the faint trace of a smirk mirroring her own could be spotted before it was whisked away by the candlelight that lit his face as he slid back in his chair and rose to his feet.

"One of the chambermaids will be up to show you to your room. I'll fetch you in the morning," he told her as she followed him to the door. Twisting the knob, he pulled it open, revealing a rather mortified looking Addison falling at their feet. The girl gave a nervous laugh, her face a bright shade of red as she edged herself backwards before jumping to her feet. Elizabeth watched as Teague remained undaunted, his usual fierce expression enough to make even the strongest of men cower in fear or in this case, the nosiest of women press their backs to the farthest wall and snivel.

After he took his leave, Elizabeth approached Addison who had collapsed on the floor in sheer terror. Her hand flew to her waist as she observed the rather pale color that had replaced the red tint that had previously occupied it. "Do you enjoy eavesdropping on other people's conversations?" she inquired with an obvious hint of irritation in her voice. Addison merely stared at the floor, her hands folded neatly on her lap.

"My deepest apologies, your majesty."

"It appears you've already forgotten our agreement in addition to your manners, too." Again, the familiar sheet of scarlet covered her face as the situation worsened for her.

"I'm sorry. I'll leave you now." Addison hiked her skirts up with great haste and readied herself to run off down the hall before she was kept in place by some very strange words.

"How would you like to be my lady in waiting, Addison?" Turning to face her king, Addison swept a lock of russet hair behind her ear.

"But, you just--,"

"I'll only need you for a little while before I can properly settle in and I'll pay you for your assistance." Elizabeth watched as Addison shifted her weight to one side, apparently considering the offer she'd been presented with. Finally looking up, she smiled.

"I accept, Captain Swann." Elizabeth nodded then sent her off to fetch the chambermaid before reentering Teague's room. There on the chair sat the chest of Will Turner, unmoved.

…and what you want most in this world is to find the chest of Davy Jones.

To save Will.

She couldn't help but chuckle lightly at the irony of it. Who knew the accursed chest would play such a key role in their lives. Running her fingers over the grooves in the lid, she smiled. Yes, she would build her house on the coast where she could watch the horizon for the Dutchman's sails while keeping her husband's heart safe.

No, not your husband anymore, Elizabeth. You seem to keep forgetting. She scowled, roughly shaking her head and plopping down in the seat angled towards the opposite chair. Yes, my husband. And I will be loyal to him and wait just like I promised, just like I should. When she received no inward response, she waited in silence, save for the dull beat of the heart within the chest to keep her company.

Yes, a quiet life on land will be just fine.

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