just a pirate
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She sat in a sort of stupor.
No, no – not really. She was conscious, she wasn't sick, she sat and contemplated, actually, so 'in a state of stupor' was technically incorrect. Or literally. Or... whatever.
She'd had a talk with him because they owed it to each other, but also to themselves, if that made any sense at all. They deserved this... this closure, and they wouldn't get it unless they shelved away their stubbornness and had a proper conversation. What with her unyielding tenacity and his personality, really (which was rather drunken, most of the time), it was an almost impossible idea, but she was just as determined as she was stubborn, and so, maybe with more thanks to her than to him, she got her little exchange.
The moment came and parked itself persistently when he was standing on the ship, looking out at the sea with an almost painful longing that she suspected had nothing to do with the murky waters below. She approached him bravely (albeit a little cautiously, she'd admit later), making sure they were alone before she made her presence known, though she privately deduced that he'd known she was there, or else he'd known she would come.
He asked her, quite politely, what brought her here. Her prince was waiting down below, after all, and she didn't miss the small smirk that touched his features.
She said firmly that she came with the purpose of a talk, so that was what she was going to get, whether he liked it or not.
He calmly commented with another one of his miniscule grins that her tone wasn't very ladylike. Nevertheless, whatever would she like to talk about?
What she did. She wanted to talk about what she did.
"Ah. That." He said it with such a forced, composed, and unruffled quality that she knew it had bothered him, even if he was Captain Jack Sparrow and nothing ever fazed him.
She'd said she wasn't sorry – and she still wasn't – but she wanted to justify her actions anyway; he deserved that much, at the very least.
He interrupted that she did it because she was a pirate, and there was no turning back, and so there was little to say – though, by all means, she could proceed with her dialogue if she wanted.
She shook her head feverishly, because that wasn't it, it really wasn't: she'd done it to save herself, she'd done it to save Will, she'd done it because he, Captain Jack Sparrow, deserved it for all that he'd put the rest of them through, she'd done it for so many reasons – but she wasn't a pirate, she wasn't, because she knew her right from wrong and she did it only because she had to.
Jack barely blinked after her rant, he only stared at her and stated plainly that she was wrong on multiple counts. Firstly, he felt compelled to press the point that the reasons she had given did not testify that she wasn't a pirate, because contrary to popular belief, everyone knew their right from wrong – it was their actions to either acknowledge or ignore that belief that made them different. And she didn't have to do anything (not that he was really blaming her for anything, he was quick to point out), and she did it more for her own benefit than anything else. Lastly, she acted like he was a bad man, like he was the devil himself – and he wasn't. Not at all.
The conversation ended briskly, though Elizabeth didn't quite realize it until she found herself all alone, the image of Jack's retreating form still fresh in her mind and his parting words ringing in her ears: I'm not a bad man, love. Just a pirate.
She didn't think she'd ever forget.
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--author's notes.
It made little sense, which is my entire fault, I presume. I'm still not completely sure what this is: I guess it's my illustration of how Elizabeth and Jack's first encounter should have gone. I suppose you should consider it POST DMC, since it has nothing to do with AWE. Hm.
Review, per favore.
--disclaimer.
It's not mine.