I have returned! Hopefully for a long time.
This is going to be a two-shot (probably). M-rated for the incoming second chapter.
Read and review!
Back and forth, alive with crackling energy, the peaks and valleys interchanging positions, darkness and light slithering through each other; no more would her eyes follow one streak of the moon's illuminations before another one overwhelmed the first. On the path through the turbulence, while her breath caught in her throat and her fingers twitched, her gaze finally settled on the moon itself, sitting just above the straight line of the water's edge on the dark horizon. A bright thing in the mystery of the sky above, always present, never known...there even during the dawn of the morning, a restless reminder of a world beyond their own.
Below, the raging and excited chop of the water, mimicking the never-ending expanse above, a wonderful mirror that held its own mysteries.
There were many things…
Many things that held mysteries, secrets, riddles...half of her wanted to leap off of the railing and plunge into the depths of the ocean...perhaps she would be running away...if only she could hold her breath long enough to admit to herself that she could never run far enough to escape…
Swim, rather.
And if she could fly, ascend into the night...how many stars could she go past before she understood that it too was as futile as inevitably drowning herself?
A small grin cracked her lips, and she tilted her head up once more, not at the moon this time, but at where she imagined the sun would be the next morning. Burning with joyous light...only this time it wouldn't share that joy, only the heat, the fire...it didn't even need to be morning for her body to be actively incinerating itself from the inside.
The sharp beat of her heart reminded her of that every time it slammed against her chest. But why was it doing that? The list...possible list was long. Being away from her home...the chilled lick of the wind on her face...the ever-looming uncertainty of the future.
The future.
It used to be a simple affair. Tea, suitors, choosing a suitor, marriage, children...being only nine, and being told that this was to be her life…
Not this, but that...dismal clockwork day-to-day...even being so young, it had sounded dreadfully boring all the same.
As fate would have it...fate, an interesting presence in both her past, present, and, now...as fate would have it, William Turner had made his water-spluttering wide-eyed breathless entrance onto the deck of the ship carrying her from England to Port Royal.
That might have been the end of it…
It.
It.
Not her life, certainly, but excitement...well, some people might say that the end of excitement meant the end of life, but none of those people were fortunate...or unfortunate enough to cross paths with her.
Don't be silly, you're aboard the ship of one such person.
A bit too paltry to call him a person, really.
Said the small annoying voice in her head…
Anyway, that might have been the end of it, but fate spread its cards on the table and within them was the poor decision making of a father giving his son a pirate medallion that would send said pirates chasing said medallion all the way into her mansion ten years later.
It had sent her on a small adventure.
And had sent her into the arms of one rather…
Handsome...no, don't call him that.
Alluring...or that.
Lovely...especially dangerous.
One rather…dastardly...that's too mean.
Complex...no, too nice.
One rather vexing pirate.
And into his arms meant being nearly throttled with a chain...you did lay on his shoulder on the island though.
A pirate that had her gripping the railing of his ship, staring daggers into the ocean, moon, sky, stars, back into her own soul and heart, her face set into a permanent scowl...yes, vexing was an appropriate word.
And he wasn't even near her. Last she had seen him, he'd been standing at the helm an hour ago, looking God knows where...probably thinking of schemes to get into her breeches, the damnable man. Could be worse...could be more damnable than he is.
Imagine telling him that...you could be worse, Jack, at least all you're trying to do is seduce me into mindless lust.
The terrible bit was that he didn't have to try very hard.
You're engaged.
Focus on the water.
The moon, why you're still out here when you should be sleeping...anything. Pretty soon he was going to suddenly appear on deck with one of those infuriating grins of his as though he not only knew what she was thinking about at that exact moment...as though he knew the entire contents of her mind and soul and knew what she'd had for breakfast six years ago on the fourth Sunday in June.
Fate intervening...what the bloody hell did Beckett know?
Of course, she could wonder what the bloody hell she knew too.
Quite a few things, actually.
Asteria, a name that had been one of the many fluttering thoughts tap dancing their way through her mind earlier. Greek goddess of the stars. She remembered trying to pronounce her name when she was little...only got as far as 'Astra'...she was a Titan goddess.
She smiled when she also recalled that Asteria had escaped Zeus after the fall of the Titans by transforming herself into a quail and leaping into the sea.
Could follow her example.
Sure, if she could just transform into her namesake and take a dainty little tumble over the railing...that would solve all of her numerous problems.
Problems that all could be traced back to...what was he doing in there anyway? What did the great Captain Jack Sparrow do in his free time? Read? Draw maps? Find new belts to wear?
Don't think about his belts. The belts are dangerously close to…
No, don't think about there, that, anything to do with any of that.
Flee back to the side of innocence, before you delved into the dark chasm of...him. Follow Astraea, follow her example...you can't, not anymore...well, dammit, Astraea, she could certainly try. She could be a Goddess of Innocence too.
Was Astraea up there in the stars laughing at her plight? The corruption of a maiden...maybe not a star-maiden, per se, but a maiden nonetheless...the corruption of a maiden...a byproduct of a pirate's desperate attempt to escape (though, if she were to ask him, he would probably boast that it was just to look down her dressing gown)...that simple contact, being pressed up against him, had sent her spiraling down from whatever high place of virtue she had been dangling on...she certainly hadn't been there with any kind of permanence.
She often liked to look back on her school teachings...mythology had been her favorite.
And throughout mythology there had been the repetition of good strong women being catapulted into acting like blithering lovestruck idiots by handsome dark men...and funny that they never really gave any instructions to avoid it. Perhaps she could have...nevermind, she wouldn't have listened anyway.
Half of her time was spent neck deep in books about pirates...she wanted to know what pirates did, what kinds of things they said, what they dreamed about, whether they got married, how often they sneezed...ok, maybe not that far...but she wanted to know everything.
It only made sense that her pirate obsession would come back around to literally...no, not even bite her in the arse...more than that...it took a chunk out of her heart too, and twisted up her brain into rather impressive knots.
Not it, he.
She hated him.
And then his smoky voice drifted into her head...Keep tellin' yourself that darlin'.
Dammit.
Damn him.
It was only when a sharp pain shot through her jaw that she realized she was gritting her teeth. For God's sake...squash this ridiculous obsession and go talk to him. Get him out of your system.
Go into his cabin?
Well...obviously.
But…
What do you think, he is going to tie you up and tickle you or something?
No...not that she would mind…
HA!
...What? Oh, shove off, it's nothing. Maybe I'll just wait for him to come out-
Right, he's been in there for an hour. Unless you think you have some kind of special allure that will draw him out like a sailor to a siren…
I can't just waltz into his cabin…
Why not?
Because.
Because isn't a reason.
Well, it is for me.
Come up with a better one.
...He would kick me out.
The voice inside her head laughed at her for a second time.
He has just as much chance of kicking you out of his cabin than a shark does of changing his mind about eating a seal. He won't.
...Not that you would want him to. If you had your way, you would end up in his bed.
I would not!
You absolutely would.
Against her better judgement, her eyes wandered in the direction of his cabin door. It was partially hidden in shadow, the left corner almost white with the glow of the moon, the rest dark and unknown.
"Curiosity, you want to know what it's like…"
The chilly wind sent a wave of gooseflesh across her skin as she contemplated something that would surely be her biggest mistake...but what harm could it really do? She was just going to talk to him...ask him some questions, listen to his answers, watch his eyes dance with mirth and mischief like they did when they looked at her...as though he knew things about her that even she didn't know...knew secrets that hadn't even had a chance to form yet...watch his lips curve into that delicious smirk, a jester's smirk...a pirate's smirk.
Observe, entirely innocently, the unmistakable lines of his body...lean muscles showing through his thin cotton shirt, the way his breeches hugged his arse when we walked...the enticing bit of chest that peeked through, and the spark it gave her imagination to imagine what everything lower looked like...his hair, a mass that she longed to bury her fingers in, drawing his head closer to her as he moved...raising her legs around his waist, clenching her fingernails into his back like a pleasured cat...smoky moans and heated kisses as they were both scorched beyond recognition by the sweet taste of forbidden indulgence...a selfish indulgence.
But that was what being a pirate was all about, wasn't it?
Acting on your selfish desires...and from the intense blush...the trembling she was doing...evidently her selfish desire was for Jack Sparrow to make passionate love to her.
You should have stopped those thoughts in their tracks before they even started.
But I didn't.
Yes...you didn't. You're done for.
It's his fault. He...his fault, yes-
No, you can't even blame him for it, as much as you wish you could. Jack Sparrow could try much harder to seduce you than he's done...no, I'm afraid this is all your own fantasy. A fantasy that has been growing ever since you first sounded out his name on the damn page.
Blast.
The door was still looming in the darkness, beckoning her to start taking steps towards it, towards her doom, her salvation...what, was she comparing him to Satan and angels now?
...might as well. He could easily fulfill each of those roles.
Ha, Satan maybe, but an angel? I'm not sure he has the purity for that.
Neither do you.
Unconsciously, her fingers slid against the smooth wood of the railing, catching for a second on the edge, and then dropping off to hang, attached to her arm that was attached to her shoulder that was turning in the direction of his cabin, and below that, her legs that were just barely being held back from advancing forward all on their damn own.
Think of the consequences if you go in there.
What consequences?
Will.
What about Will?
You're engaged to him.
And? I'm permitted to talk to whomever I wish.
Right, as if you can call any kind of communication you engage in with Jack Sparrow 'just talking'.
It wasn't. It was like they were engaged in an active sword fight with words, taking jabs at each other, then running their tongues over the wounds to soothe and excite before doing it all over again, a harrowing back and forth that always left her on the edge of insanity.
The challenge of outperforming his performance, of finding a snappy comeback that was a just an ounce more clever than his own, adding that special spice to her words, hoping he would throw something back at her even more intensely than before, his eyes burning into her own with a taunting glimmer.
'Come on, Lizzie, show me that smoldering fire inside of you.'
He was the snake charmer to her cobra, the stoker to her flames...damn it.
The devil to her...lesser devil.
A breath swept into her lungs, just a small one, her foot shifted forward, planting itself on the dark wood below her, the other following suit, then she was walking, being pulled along by invisible ropes that she ought to just hang herself with and be done with it.
Where was Astraea now, where was the innocence that she had never cared much for, never bothered with, and always wished that it would take leave of her too...where was it now that she was willingly leaping into...some kind of danger.
Which kind, she didn't exactly know. Lustful danger? Certainly. Many other kinds too, no doubt.
Two more steps.
What am I even going to say to him?
"Hello, Captain Sparrow, sorry to intrude, but you wouldn't mind terribly if I asked you to…"
To what?
Anything. Anything he would and could do to her, she wanted. All of it.
Will.
Not now. She was going to be fully and completely selfish while she had the chance, consequences be damned.
Three more steps. Almost there.
The powerful beat of her heart was almost as rapid as her thoughts, swirling about in her mind, thoughts of where his fingers could go, what they could do, what her fingers could do to him...his voice, his eyes, working in tandem to melt her into a warm puddle of begging woman.
Sucking in a grand exhale, she stepped until she found herself staring into the grain of the wood, the vertical looming plane of his door, with the ornate silver handle...the object of her desire just beyond it…
Each individual muscle strain stood out to her as she curled her fingers around the...gargoyle, she discovered, taking a closer look at it. Narrowed eyes peered out at her, a tarnish in the corners making them seem angry. Then, all of her breath vacated her all at once, leaving her lungs bereft and her mind swimming blindly for some kind of direction, some kind of plan...there was none. She had no idea what to do from here, what she was getting herself into…
It's now or never. Don't lose confidence, not when you're this close.
A warmer draft of air mingled with the sea chill, the door carving a path through the dim smoky dinge to reveal a handsome cabin bathed in orange candlelight, shapes and shadows flickering around like mischievous faeries...a long shadow extended around the right side of the room, menacing as her eyes followed it all the way around the corner of the small window that was allowing a beam of moonlight to illuminate the center of the floor.
Distracted by the dust dancing around in the shaft of light, she eventually swung her gaze around to the left side of the room, where an elegant desk stood proudly, books and papers covering it, and a few...what looked like maps buried under them. An inkwell and a fountain pen was balanced on the edge, threatening to fall off at any moment...bookshelves filled to the brim with green, red, dark chocolate brown...white, yellow...all kinds of colors adorning the spines of the tomes making a home there.
Did he like to read? Briefly, she imagined him reading her a story...Odysseus, perhaps, or the Iliad. How his voice would wrap around the words, sounding almost more wonderful and exciting than the story itself.
Speaking of he...where was he? The chair at the desk was empty, and it was so quiet...his coat hung on a hook behind the desk, his hat was there too...a sudden ridiculous urge to hurry over and slap it on her head surged through her...no, if you start wearing his clothes, pretty soon he will be trying to take you out of them.
Curiosity getting the best of her, she wandered over to his desk...the Captain's desk...the loose papers that she hadn't been able to make out before were...sketches, she found. Drawings of ships, pistols...a few of horses, landscapes...and they were good.
One particular paper was hidden under the rest, the corner of it peeking out just enough for her to notice it. Gingerly picking up the others, she lifted it into the light.
And gasped.
It was...her. Standing at the Pearl's railing, staring out into the sea, her hair curling around her shoulders and down her back, the rays of the sun lighting up her face...and there was a small smile adorning her lips.
Oh.
His compass...was in her hand, flipped open, and it was angled in such a way where she could see where the needle was pointing...exactly where it would point if she were to open it now...to Jack, dammit...that would be helpful, in fact, because she still didn't know where he was.
This cabin is only so damn big.
A chest sat in the far left corner, some cloth draped on the front, spilling out of the open lid. She placed the drawing back on the desk, and went over to it. Kneeling down, being mindful of the noise, not that it made a noise anyway, she lifted the heavy carved cover, and found...silks. A few more hats, a pair of boots, and many different shades of silks.
But Jack didn't seem to be in there.
Smothering a laugh, she stood up, looking behind her in case he was hiding in the corner peering at her with that ridiculous sparkle in his eyes.
No, not there either.
Nowhere...perhaps he was out on deck somewhere?
Don't be silly, unless he can turn invisible, there is no way…
On her next rotation back towards the door, her heart leapt into her throat, her knees felt like they were melting into her calves, and her throat twisted itself into knots. Her blood didn't know which way to go, pounding in her ears, racing through her veins...but her eyes, her eyes remained very sure of where they wanted to be...squarely glued on the sleeping figure half covered by a red blanket, his tan skin an alluring contrast to the cream of the bedsheets…
Can't breathe her mind feebly tried to tell her, but she ignored it, ignored everything except the way the blanket slipped down a little every time he took a breath, or how the candlelight danced across his body every time the Pearl made a gentle roll in the waves.
Run. Leave, right now.
She should listen, she really should vacate anything having to do with him right this second, she should forget she ever came in here, forget what she was looking at...but she didn't want to.
No.
After forcing her lungs to function again...she made the dangerous decision to step closer to him, taking care to be quiet…
This wasn't fair. She came in here to talk to Jack Sparrow, have a conversation with Jack Sparrow...not to stare at Jack Sparrow's deliciously naked barely covered body…
...but that was exactly what she was she was going to do, she'd be damned if she let this opportunity slip through her fingertips.
Innocence could be on its merry way for the time being...and it would probably never come back.
Who are you kidding...you could almost say it left you when Jack held a gun to your head and pressed the full length of his body against you...but that would be suggesting that you were ever truly innocent in the first place.
If you were, you certainly wouldn't be wishing that blanket to slip off altogether...nor would you be considering pulling it down yourself.
Hush, she told her unruly mind...there was no more stopping herself from this than there was stopping a hurricane from tearing a village apart.
Only, she was going to enjoy this.