Hello all! It's been a while since I posted anything. This is actually just a re-post of a Beckabeth one-shot that I wrote three or four years ago. I don't particularly like this story and it needs editing. You're probably wondering why I'm bothering to post it then, huh? Well, basically I'm just posting to let you all know that I'm not dead and that I've switched accounts. I'm going to be abandoning this one, so if you want to read any of my other stories, please look up my new account, which is Psychedelic Hurricane. Again, I will not be checking this account, so please find me on my other account and read the author's note that I have up on my profile page! Thanks!


Elizabeth's P.O.V.

A chill not entirely formed from the coolness of the night cuts through me straight to the bone as I recall the events of this dark, fateful night.

I am hiding behind the door to the study of Lord Beckett's office. My sweaty hands grasp a pistol that may be my only hope tonight. I start to grow impatient from waiting for Lord Beckett to enter the room. It feels as if my heart is going to burst out of my chest from the suspense as it pounds apprehensively against my ribs.

Just when I am nearly certain that I will split in two, quiet footsteps sound from the door that leads to Beckett's study. My breath catches in my throat as I peer into the study. Beckett clicks across the floor with shiny black boots and a letter in his hand. He strides straight toward the box which contained the letters of Marque and pauses. The box, fortunately, no longer contains the letters. The letters are now safely stored in my hands along with my pistol. I will force Beckett to sign the letters at gunpoint. These letters are precious. They are like gold to me. After all, they will lead to my freedom along with my fiance's freedom. At the current moment, my fiance is locked up in prison. I am his only hope.

"No doubt you've discovered that loyalty is no longer the currency of the realm as your father believes," Beckett's voice rings out in the still room, breaking the silence like a knife.

Trying to calm the rapid beating of my pulse, I step out from the door I have concealed myself behind and step into the study, replying as calmly as I can, "Then what is?"

Turning away from the box of letters to face me on the opposite side of the room, Beckett replies, "I'm afraid that currency is the currency of the realm."

I avoid his sharp blue eyes as I take another step forward and press, "I expect then that we can come to some sort of agreement. I'm here to negotiate." My voice no longer sounds so calm. Anxiety can clearly be heard underneath everything else. I will myself to act confident, and yet, I just can't. Something about Lord Beckett makes me nervous.

"I'm listening," Beckett says coolly as we approach each other from across the floor. We are perhaps a foot apart at the most now. I whip the pistol out from behind my back and point it directly at Beckett's forehead. He doesn't seem to be alarmed. No, he seems even more calm than I am. In a serene voice, he echoes, "I'm listening...intently."

"These Letter of Marque, they are signed by the King?" I ask Beckett, finally lifting my eyes to his.

Just as quickly as I had looked up at him, Beckett looks away from me, gazing at something behind me. I look over my shoulder to see what Beckett is looking at, but see nothing. Still not looking at me, Beckett replies in a syrupy voice, "Yes, and they're not valid until they bear my signature and my seal." A smirk sweeps across his face as he says this, making him look devilish in the light spilling from the lantern.

"Or else I would not still be here," I murmur to Beckett, wanting to get the upper hand in this predicament. "You sent Will to get you the compass owned by Jack Sparrow. It will do you no good." I wish to outsmart Beckett in this. I want to prove to him that he can't always be on top of the world, pushing other people off of it and crushing them in the process.

"Do explain," Beckett says expressionlessly.

Frowning, I take a step closer to him and murmur, "I have been to the Isla de Muerta, I have seen the treasure for myself. There is something you need to know."

Beckett's lip curls and he looks over at me arrogantly, replying in a slick voice, "Ah, I see. You think the compass leads only to the Isla de Muerta and so you hope to save me from an evil fate. But you mustn't worry. I care not for cursed Aztec gold. My desires are not so provincial. There's more than one chest of value in these waters. So perhaps you wish to enhance your offer?"

Slightly flustered that Beckett has somehow managed to turn the situation around and make me look like the naive one, I press the letters to Beckett's chest and hiss, "Consider into your calculations that you robbed me of my wedding night."

At my words, Beckett's smile only grows. He tilts his head at me and replies, "So I did. A marriage interrupted. Or fate intervenes. You're making great efforts to ensure Jack Sparrow's freedom."

Jack Sparrow? He is the last person on my mind at the moment. After all, Jack was the one who had gotten Will and me into this mess. Eyes narrowing, I reply to Beckett, "These aren't going to Jack."

Beckett continues to stand in front of me with a calculating look on his face as he replies, "Oh really. To ensure Mr. Turner's freedom then? But what of you and Jack? And what of me? You came here to negotiate. You must have something to bargain with."

Bargain? I have no idea what Beckett could mean by this. Here I have him at gunpoint, and yet, he is refusing to sign the letters. Frowning at Beckett, I contradict, "You forget that I have you at my mercy. I could pull this trigger at any moment."

Beckett nods, "Indeed you could. And with that, you would throw away all hopes of your freedom."

I have to admit that he does have a point there. If I kill Beckett, then how will I ever get the letters of Marque signed? I bite my lip and hesitate, obviously not having thought that I would run into a predicament like this. Still trying to act like I am the one in charge, I protest, "I could forge a signature and I could take your signatory ring. There are other ways to ensure my freedom."

"Ah yes, and the king would almost immediately realize that the signature was forged and you would be guilty of two crimes instead of one," Beckett replies smoothly. I hated to admit that once again, he is right. I look at the ground and then take a step toward Beckett, pressing the point of the pistol to his head. Beckett merely looks at me as calm as ever. I could kill Beckett right now. I could rid myself of this vile man. And yet...I just can't. My finger won't pull the trigger. I can not kill.

Beckett takes a step backward and murmurs, "Must we settle this so violently? There are other ways to settle the price for Mr. Turner's freedom along with your own."

Wondering what he could possibly want, I ask, "And how else can we settle a price? I have nothing with me for negotiation."

Beckett eyes the gun I have pointed at his head and suggests, "Well, you could start by removing your pistol." Knowing that I will never be able to shoot Beckett no matter how I hate him, I hesitantly put the pistol down on the desk. "Much better," Beckett nods, circling me.

I stiffen under his watchful eyes and reply, "What now? As I have said before, I have nothing to offer."

Beckett raises an eyebrow at me and stops right in front of me, pressing a finger to my lips to signal me to be silent. His words drip from his mouth like honey as he murmurs, "Oh, but you do have something to offer, Miss Swann. You have a precious gift to offer. The only question is whether Mr. Turner's freedom is enough for you to give it up."

At these words, I look up at Beckett and find that his stormy blue eyes have turned silver from greed and desire. My lip trembles and I gaze up at him searchingly as I confirm, "You want me? Isn't there something else you want? Anything at all?"

Beckett shakes his head and replies lightly, "For every favor, there is a price to pay. You may pay the price or you may not. If you choose not to, you will never obtain the letters you so desire. It's a pity really."

I watch Beckett turn and start to leave, the letters tucked carefully under his arm. I can't let him go. I can't let him escape with the one thing that could save Will. No, I had to have those letters. Standing my ground, I murmur, "Wait!"

Beckett turns to me cordially and replies, "Yes, Miss Swann?"

"I...I'll do it," I say in a trembling voice, no longer trying to hide the fear from my voice. Beckett sets the letters onto the desk and takes my hand in his. I am surprised by his icy grip on my wrist. His fingernails bite into my flesh, warning me of what is to come. Beckett drags me out of the study and into his office. His desk stands at one end of the room and a warm fire is raging at the opposite end of it.

"Come. The atmosphere in here is much nicer than that of the study, don't you agree?" Beckett asks, pulling me closer to him. I halt before him and nod stiffly, eying him with terror. Beckett exhales loudly and lets his hands float down to my hips. He pulls me against him and searches for the laces to my dress, murmuring, "This doesn't have to be difficult, Miss Swann. You mustn't feel like you are required to fight it. I know what you desire."

"And how would you know what I w-want?" I choke out as I felt a sharp tug at my dress.

Beckett unlaces it quickly with skilled fingertips and murmurs, "Because I can sense it. I can sense the need pulsing through your veins and I see the way you look at men. You said yourself that I robbed you of your wedding night. Perhaps this is why you wish to set Mr. Turner free?"

Ice cold fingers ease the sleeves of my dress off my shoulders. My head rests on Beckett's shoulder as I grow flustered at our closeness. My cheeks grow pink and my body stiffens as I hiss back, "Of course that is not why I want Will set free!"

Ignoring me, Beckett leans forward and presses a soft kiss to the side of my throat. "Of course not," he echoes me. "How silly of me to suggest such a thing. You wish only to release William Turner because of your duty to him."

My mind spins at his words. Duty? What of duty? It is impossible to think when Beckett's lips are sliding hot kisses up the column of my neck. My knees start to tremble and I find myself linking an arm around him to keep from falling.

"It isn't duty," I say in a jerky voice, annoyed by how my body has betrayed me.

Beckett removes his lips from my neck and tilts me backward to get a good look into my eyes as he asks, "Then what is it?"

The pools of azure lock with my eyes, making my mind slow and helpless. I flush a deeper shade of pink as Beckett embraces me and holds me close. His hard warmth throbs against my stomach, making my breath hitch and my eyes widen. Beckett's mouth moves to mine, his lips devouring what I have to offer. His tongue seeks my entrance, prodding and pushing until he makes his way through. There is no question of who is dominate in this situation. I attempt to put up a fight, but it is weak and half-hearted. I end up letting him take control of my mouth helplessly.

Suddenly, I wonder what in the world I am doing. I can't do this. It isn't worth it. Abruptly, I jerk out of Beckett's arms and make a run for the door. Before I can get very far, Beckett's fingernails are clawing my wrist, pulling me back to him. My eyes shine in despair as Beckett throws me almost roughly against the wall. I fall against it, stunned and weak.

As I slip to the ground, Beckett's arms are around me once more. He picks me up and whispers, "You made a deal with me. Don't you know that you cannot break your end of the bargain?"

Shaking violently in his arms, I gaze up at him and plead, "Please...please be gently with me. I haven't ever-"

"Yes, I know," Beckett says, returning his lips to the side of my neck. He nuzzles me gently before his lips seal around my pulse. I cry out, letting my body betray me once more. Beckett's hands creep up to push my dress down a bit lower. I try to hold the bodice up to keep my torso hidden from his view. Beckett will have none of that. Laying me down helplessly on my back before the fire, he kneels besides me and gently moves my hands to my sides. He slowly eases the sleeves of the dress down my arms and then pulls my bodice away, baring my naked chest to the light from the fire. Feeling weak and helpless, I cast my eyes downward as Beckett reaches down to cup the heavy mound of revealed flesh in his hand.

"Please..." I beg as Beckett begins kneading my breast gently in his palm.

Beckett pushes my disheveled hair out of my face and echoes, "Please what?"

I frown and find that I don't even know what I am begging for anymore. My body is hot and bothered, that is for certain. Sweat pools in certain places of my body and a strange sensation is occurring below my stomach. A cry rips out of my throat as Beckett lowers his lips to my rock-hard nub and suckles it. His hands explore the curves of my sides and travel down to my hips as my skin grows prickly and irritated. Abruptly, Beckett tugs at my nipple, licking and sucking it roughly. My back arches as I push myself toward him, offering myself up in a bargain that I had never hoped to make.

"So you do want this, do you not?" Beckett smirks, hands slipping my dress down my waist, leaving me stripped and forlorn beneath him. I can't answer him, unsure of what I truly want.

Beckett caresses my calf and moves up to my thigh, stroking the curve of it lasciviously. In a sudden motion, Beckett is over me, sliding a hand between my thighs and lowering his lips to the inside of my leg. His lips press scalding kisses up to the center of my desire. My legs start shaking and trembling, and suddenly, Beckett stops. He gazes down at my flushed figure and watches me writhe beneath him.

" Lord Beckett..." I trail off, begging him with my eyes. The muscles within me are tightening and a drip of desire runs down my leg.

Beckett's hand goes to his breeches as he murmurs, "Cutler. No Lord Becketts."

Wanting to do anything to get out of this agony, I gasp, "Cutler..."

Beckett lowers his breeches with one hand and strokes my warm entrance with his fingertips, explaining, "You do know that I don't wish to hurt you, but it is regrettable that the first time is always somewhat painful for a young woman." Keeping his eyes locked with mine, Beckett slips his fingertips within me, worshiping the core of my being.

"I...I don't care," I gasp, no thoughts of resisting anymore as I melt at his intimate touch. Beckett withdraws a slick finger from my body and brings it to my lips. I suck on his finger, needing something to hold onto. Beckett's lip curls and he brings the same finger to his own lips and runs a perfect tongue over it to taste me.

Suddenly, Beckett is over me and fear pulses through my veins once more as I wait to see what will happen. I tense as Beckett presses himself to the core of my body, preparing to break through the barrier that should've been Will's to take. With a forceful stroke, Beckett shatters my honor and leaves me in a rippling pool of agony. I cry out and whimper, tears of pain filling my eyes. Beckett waits patiently, kissing away the cries from my lips. Slowly, the pain fades and dissolves until the only thing that remains is the burning desire within me. Beckett seems to know when I am ready for more. I grow used to the hardened warmth throbbing within me and start to feel only ecstasy as Beckett and I fuse and meld. Our bodies join and we fulfill each other, Beckett working inside me as I roll my hips to join in the dance. The feeling of ecstasy only grows within me until my muscles tighten to a point where it is unbearable.

"My Lord..." I gasp as I come willingly for him, letting him have all that I am. Beckett claims my mouth with his in an intimate kiss as he stiffens within me and bestows his warmth into my most sacred chambers. We pant for a moment or two, both of our minds clear of everything but the joyous passion that just formed between us.

Much too soon, it is over. Beckett stands quickly and dresses, body shining with sweat in the moonlight. Oh god, what have I done? I gave myself up to Lord Beckett and have therefore betrayed my fiance. How will Will ever forgive me? The worst part of this is that I given myself up readily. I had wanted it. With that though running through my mind, a loud sob rips from my throat as I lay broken on the ground.

Beckett leaves the room for a moment as the silent tears wrack through my body. A few minutes later, he returns to me with the letters of Marque in his hand. I glance up to see his seal and signature burned into the parchment. I try to stand, but fall back to the ground in a puddle of tears and sorrow.

"There, there," Beckett murmurs, bringing me to my feet. I can't help but lean against him as he helps me dress, pulling the wedding gown over my head and lacing it back up. Beckett's lips brush against the smooth skin just below my ear as he whispers, "There is no need to cry. There's nothing to regret."

With that said, Beckett takes my palm and presses the letters of Marque into it. He curls my fingertips around the parchment and looks deeply into my eyes, murmuring, "Go now. You have every right to set young Mr. Turner free." With that said, Beckett presses one last kiss to my trembling mouth just to mark me as his own before he strides from the room.

All alone, I watch him leave and stand helplessly in the office. When I finally gather my strength, I toss the letters of Marque into the fire. They flare up in a burst of flames as dark red as the blood sizzling through my veins. The letters will never reach Will. I will never reach Will. Once the letters have become no more, I turn and flee from the room. I run into the moonlight and far away, trying to run from the nightmare that will forever be engraved within me. Beckett has claimed me, left his mark on me. I will forever belong to him.


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