Disclaimer: I don't own anything or any characters belong to POTC. This is just the result of an over-active imagination and a vile desire against writing anymore graduate essays.
Elizabeth gaped and gripped the worn wooden table in front of her as though it were a life raft. Was it really Barbossa? After all this time, was it truly possible that he was alive? On a moment's reflection she supposed that it was not half as astounding as the events she had already witnessed. Compared to the monstrous Kraken and Davy Jones' crew of random miscreants bearing down on her on that god-forsaken island (wondering again what it was with her and islands), she realized that the appearance of the vivacious Captain she had assumed to be long dead and gone was by no means an occurrence outside the realm of a rather fanciful reality in which she now found herself.
Captain Barbossa strode down the steps of Tai Dalma's hut with an air of arrogance and understated superciliousness, as though he, of all mortals, should be expected and welcomed into the grey disheartened group of fledging pirates needing his guidance. Jack the monkey perched obediently on his shoulder as he paused at the bottom of the stairs to survey the motley gathering before him.
"So," he began, tearing into a juicy green apple he'd been saving for some time, "can anyone tell me what's become of me ship?'
Silence. Elizabeth glanced at Will, who promptly studied the opposite wall as though it held the answers to the meaning of life. Tia Dalma remained quiet, watching the scene unfold before her. Pintel swallowed his nerve and finally spoke, his voice unsteady.
"Well, ya see Cap'n, the Black Pearl she…she's gone to a different place now."
Barboss eyed Pintel suspiciously. "Aye...and what d'ya mean when ya say a different place?"
"Um…" Pintel looked at Ragetti who blinked his wooden eye too rapidly. "She's not…she's gone…Jack Sparrow…"
"Jack Sparrow?" murmured Barbossa at the same time that Elizabeth instinctively blurted out "Captain Jack Sparrow." And then more softly, "Bloody hell, get it right."
The resurrected captain gave the governor's daughter a bemused glance. "Ah, yes…Captain Jack Sparrow. As I recall, it was 'e who started this whole business. Now young Missy, y're not to be tellin' me that Jack's run off with the ship of a man 'e murdered in cold blood?"
"It wasn't in cold blood." Will's virtuous voice rang out clear and sharp. "You tried to kill Elizabeth."
Barbossa waved his hand in dismissal. "Don't be getting' dramatic on me, boy. As ye can see for yerself, Miss Swann has suffered no permanent damage, per se…" His deep cerulean blue eyes locked on Elizabeth's for one brief moment, a small knowing smirk on his lips revealing thoughts no words would dare utter.
Inwardly Elizabeth drew a sharp breath and forced her eyes to meet his gaze, silently praying that the growing heat she felt spreading over her face was not the result of a confessional blush. The audacity of the Captain's implication, whether realized by the rest of the group or not, was beyond inappropriate and completely ungentlemanly although in truth he was a pirate and had been dead for quite a while; no doubt he felt that he needed to make up for lost time and perhaps more importantly, lost opportunities. And yet, despite her indignation, Elizabeth could not deny the small twinge of excitement in her stomach when Barbossa looked at her. The way he looked at her. Will never looked at her like that.
"Indeed, Captain," she replied coldly. Please don't let me voice betray me, she thought urgently. "No thanks to your grand hospitality after you realized I was of no use to you anymore."
Barbossa chuckled at her reply and slowly moved towards the table. He had not missed the redness in her cheeks and it pleased him. "'Twas yer own idea to board me ship and give me the whelp's name, missy. Yer blood would 'ave been spilt by yer own dishonest hand."
Elizabeth was about to retort that her blood had been spilled; she glanced at the now fading scar on her palm that Will had lovingly bandaged after rescuing her. But the memory of her deceitful cunning at the mast with Jack Sparrow was still fresh in her mind, and it cut short any comment. It weighed heavily on her conscience, combined with the guilt of not confiding in Will the reasons for her actions. When had she become so untrusting? Since the Kraken had taken their ship, they had barely spoken two words to each other and the tension grew thicker every day.
Will glanced between his fiancé and the older captain, wondering at their exchange. His anger flared at the way Barbossa's eyes strayed over Elizabeth's sea-infused hair and pink wind-burnt cheeks but he knew better than to interject; he was being baited and it would do no good to protest anyways. He would only look like a fool, much of how he was feeling at the moment. If only he could talk to Elizabeth then they could close the chasm of silence separating them. But the image, burned into his mind, of his beloved fiance locked in a passionate embrace with a man who, as far as Will could tell, had no sincere emotions for anyone save himself, closed up his throat in anger and disbelief. Was that really the Elizabeth he loved? Had she forsaken the woman who had captured his heart so many years ago? Will did not know if he could still love this new woman...or ever stop loving her.