Port Royal was provincial. At least that's what Lord Cutler Beckett thought. Though he had never been overly keen on staying in one place anyways, and so he thought this might be the reason for his thoughts on it. Since he was sixteen he had been sailing the seas, seeing new places, and new people. It was hard for him to want to stay in one place after seeing so much. There was only one place that he didn't mind stopping for awhile, and that was his estate in London. It was always nice to see family and not be asked to do much of anything, but even after a month there he would itch to get back to the sea. Port Royal was no different in the latter, but worse, his manor house was not yet complete so he lacked a place to relax and even worse, he worked all the time in an office. It was a nice office, but it wasn't adventuring on the sea. There were few parties, not that he had time for parties, and few interesting people. The quiet town had proven to be nothing less than expected. Well, apart the visit from Miss Swann which he thought of every day.
Lord Beckett wished the work that the King had sent him on would lead to the sea. It hadn't yet, for the Kings wishes were for him to stay in Port Royal for the time being. It should have led him to the sea. What good was he for at a desk? There was nothing to do but wait for something to happen. So instead he spent his time making things happen.
Mister Mercer had returned to Port Royal that morning. For the past month and a half he had been tacking Miss Swann's movements; a fortnight before that morning he spotted her in Tortuga and made his way back to Port Royal. The information wasn't very useful to him, good, but not useful. There was only one person it would mean anything to and was enough to worry him into doing whatever Lord Beckett asked; Weatherby Swann, who had just been brought into the office, shackled. He was only on house arrest, but he didn't look like he was doing well. Wrought with worry for his only child; and that's why this new information would get Lord Beckett what he wanted.
He let the sword he had been examining fall downwards. He found himself more often than ever fidgeting with random objects, trying to entertain himself somehow. A trait that wasn't typical of him.
'There's something to knowing the exact shape of the world and one's place in it,' Lord Beckett said to Weatherby as he used the sword to lean on, before pointing it at the aging man. 'Don't you agree?'
Weatherby Swann lifted out his shackled wrists and ignored what Lord Beckett had said, 'I assure you, these are not necessary.'
'I had you brought here because I thought you'd be interested in the wherabouts of your daughter,' Lord Beckett said, choosing to also ignore what he had to say. Though he knew Elizabeth wouldn't be pleased knowing that her father was in shackles, Lord Beckett felt that he had done enough by sparing him a stay in the prison. That was unimportant at the time anyways, Lord Beckett was beginning his manipulation of Weatherby Swann by way of his precious daughter, whom he was only gallantly keeping an eye over.
'You have news of her?'
'Most recently seen on the island of Tortuga, then left, in the company of a known pirate, Jack Sparrow. And,' Mister Mercer spoke while looking through a large golden telescope, 'other fugitives from justice.'
'Justice, hardly.'
'Including the previous owner of this sword. . . I believe.' Lord Beckett placed the sword back into it's case. It was the sword of James Norrington, and Lord Beckett knew that he would be lying to himself if he said that it didn't bother him that Miss Swann was accompanied by yet one more fiancé. 'Our ships are in pursuit, justice will be dispensed by cannonade and cutlass, and all manner of remorseless pieces of metal. I personally find it distasteful to even contemplate the horror facing all those on board. Of course. . .' he closed the case and looked towards Weatherby. 'I have notified the company that Miss Swann is to be spared of all harm, out of the good of my heart,' his voice was cold and devoid of all care, though it was true what he said, it was only a lie that it was out of the good of his heart. 'But I do fear that my word is not as powerful and widespread as the Kings, and I wonder what might happen should she meet those with another idea. Even with my pardon, she has surrounded herself with fugitives who will not be spared. What is one among many? Not much to spare. . . and I dread to think of her reputation if she were to return to Port Royal. It seems that she is certainly doomed either way.'
Weatherby looked down at his hands, knowing that what was said for his daughter was true. 'What do you want from me?'
'Your authority as governor, your influence in London, and your loyalty to the East India Trading Company,' Lord Beckett was quick to list off his desires as he strode across the room.
'To you, you mean.'
Lord Beckett chose not to agree with that correction, though it was true. 'And then there is the safety and happiness of your daughter when she chooses to return. I would be willing to assist in salvaging what little is left to her good name, with your permission.' he didn't say exactly what he wanted, but it was heavily implied.
'My daughter would never agree-'
'I think you'll find that when you ask her, she might,' Lord Beckett gave a sick smile. 'She and I get along very well.'
Weatherby furrowed his brow in worry. A fight against himself played across his face for he knew Elizabeth's options were low and her future grim.
'Shall I remove these shackles?'
'Do what you can for my daughter,' he reluctantly agreed.
Mister Mercer came with keys and roughly removed the shackles from his wrists. Weatherby rubbed the sore skin where the heavy iron had rested.
'So you see Mercer every man has a price he will willingly except,' Lord Beckett exclaimed, feeling happy with the days scheme. 'Even for what he hoped never to sell.'
Elizabeth had been on the Black Pearl for the past fortnight. The compass was still in her possession and she began itching to selfishly leave to retrieve her father. But they were far out at sea and according to Jack, not far from their destination, as the needle of the compass swayed more now with every move the ship made. Elizabeth worried that it was not for the closeness of their destination, but rather for her confusion about what she wanted most in the world. It was a worry she felt better put aside for the time being.
Instead she focused her attentions to Jack, trying to pry information about the compass from him. Surely there was nothing else to it but knowing what you wanted most in the world, but she had to be sure. Of course she wouldn't need the information if she took Davy Jones' chest, but that would be a far more difficult feat and she felt it better that she aimed low to spare herself the disappointment of failure. Besides that, she thought she would feel guilty for taking Jack's compass and the chest, which he must have needed for something. That was, if it even existed and if Lord Beckett truly wanted it. The compass was much more solid payment and her efforts didn't seem so wasted. Elizabeth had tried to flirt with Jack to obtain information about it, but it didn't seem to work, be it for Jack's ignorance or that he didn't want to tell her. And so she instead pulled out the letter of marque meant for him; she highly doubted that it would be of any use given Jack's will to be free and drunk all the days, but it was worth a shot. If she could absolutely get no more information, then she would simply maintain possession of the compass and return to Port Royal when she could. She had been standing at the side of the ship, looking over the letter and contemplating how she might persuade Jack with it, when he came from behind and pulled the letters from her hands.
'How dare you!' Elizabeth remarked hotly as she reached to get them back.
'These letters of marque are meant to go to me, are they not?' Jack coolly retorted as he read through them before suddenly halting his movements. 'Beckett?'
'Beckett!' Mister Gibbs echoed.
It seemed to Elizabeth that both men were unsettled by the name.
'Yes they're signed,' she explained, trying to calm herself as to not seem so guilty, 'Lord Cutler Beckett of the East India Trading Company.' The name burned her throat and made her cheeks go red, especially his first as her mind went back to their meeting when he had told her to call him by his name. It burnt nearly as much as her pardon, safely resting in her breast pocket, reminding her that she worked for the enemy.
'Blah,' Jack stuck his tongue out in disgust as he read the letters.
'Will was working for Beckett and never said a word,' Mister Gibbs thought out loud, with his grey brows gathered in thought.
Elizabeth went to defend Will, to say it was to save her, but couldn't think of the right words without incriminating herself.
'Ah.'
'Beckett wants the compass,' Mister Gibbs continued. 'Only one reason for that.'
'Of course,' Jack sounded worried as he gazed out onto the horizon. It seemed he was always watching out for something. 'He wants the chest.'
'Yes he did say something about a chest,' Elizabeth tried to contribute to the conversation, without eluding too much.
'If the company controls the chest, they controls the sea!'
'A truly discomforting notion, love.'
'And bad!' Mister Gibbs continued in a way that Elizabeth would call dramatic. 'Bad for every mothers son what calls himself pirate!' He studied the ripped black sails of the ship. 'I think there's a bit more speed to be coaxed from these sails. Brace the foreyard!' He sped away, shouting orders.
Elizabeth wasn't worried about Lord Beckett catching up. He already had, for she was on the ship with the compass.
'Might I enquire as to how you came by these?' Jack questioned her in an inculpating tone as he stepped towards her.
She held her chin high and slit her eyes, unwilling to be caught out. 'Persuasion,' she said.
Jack still walked towards her and she continued stepping back.
'Friendly?'
'Decidedly too friendly.'
'Will strikes a deal for these and upholds it with honor,' Jack continued. 'And yet you are the one standing here with the prize.' Jack waved the letters before reading them. 'Full pardon, commission as a privateer on behalf of England and the East India Trading Company. As if I could be bought for such a low price.'
Elizabeth waltzed after him as he tucked the letters away into his pocket. Of course she could let him have them; they were signed, but it was only a copy. But she felt that she no longer had any leverage to make him tell her about the compass, or to give her the compass should he ask for it back at some point. 'Jack, the letters, give them back.'
'No,' he stopped walking, nearly causing Elizabeth to run into him. 'Persuade me.'
She stepped closer to him and lowered her voice. 'You do know that I know how to handle a sword?'
Jack let out a breathy laugh and turned on his heel to face her. 'As I said. Persuade me. Perhaps rather like you persuaded Lord Beckett.'
Elizabeth's cheeks flushed an angry shade of scarlet and her smug expression fell. For Jack had correctly guessed what she had done to get what she wanted and asked that she do the same for him. She didn't know how to respond and felt that her sudden shift in color had called her out. There was nothing left for the conversation but to stalk away, feeling defeated and embarrassed. She retreated to the side of the ship and watched the Caribbean blue water as it gracefully passed below, trying not to think of the humiliation that had just occurred. Jack's implication of what she had done to persuade Lord Beckett brought her mind back to that night so long past. She couldn't believe that a month and a fortnight had so quickly gone by. It had been some time since she had become so clad for him, since he kissed her, and had her begging for him to take her. . . A smile crept across her face as she thought about the way they had laid together wordlessly for an hour before finally deciding to part ways for the night.
'It's a curious thing,' James interrupted her thoughts, causing her to flinch, 'there was a time when I would have given anything for you to look like that while thinking about me.'
Once more, she felt called out. 'I don't know what you mean.'
'Oh I think you do,' there was something oddly knowing about James's voice. A familiar smugness. But there was no way he knew who she was really thinking about; Elizabeth deduced that he spoke of Jack, since she had already made him aware of her lack of relationship with Will.
'Oh don't be absurd,' she dismissed his accusations. 'I trust him that's all.'
James snickered as he pushed himself away from the railing where he had leaned. 'So you never wondered how your latest fiancé ended up on the Flying Dutchman in the first place?'
Elizabeth shot him a wrathful glare for the way he had said, 'latest.' It was said as if Will was the latest of hundreds of men to fall into her grasps. With no answer from her, James strode away with a shake of his head.
Though James had brought about a question that did warrant more scrutiny than she had given. How had Will ended up there? Elizabeth was stunned that she hadn't asked herself the question sooner. Worse, she knew the answer. This was the scheming of Jack Sparrow. She pulled the compass from the leather it hung from at her hip. 'I want to know who sent Will to the Flying Dutchman.' As quickly as the thought crossed her mind, the needle of the compass changed position, pointing directly at Jack, who stood unknowingly at the helm, looking through a telescope. Her jaw tightened in anger. She had known he was up to something! And that something made her journey much longer and could have killed Will, the very thing she was trying to avoid! Not to mention if not for him, she could have been back in Port Royal to free her father weeks prior! It was the latter that made her most angry. Jack wanted to find the heart and was willing to risk Will's life and the life of anyone else at the wrong end of his plan.
Elizabeth seethed and gave a cold glare at the back of Jack's head, wishing looks could kill. She shut the compass harshly and stormed across the deck, knowing now what she was going to do with little guilt at all. Jack had put himself in range of her cannon-like revenge. Her feet quickly carried her to the bow of the ship, where James stood, drinking a bottle of rum.
'I need to speak to you,' she muttered through gritted teeth as she harshly grabbed ahold on his dirty coat, pulling him out of sight.
James followed her, still trying to drink his rum, unquestioning what she meant.
When she felt them safely out of sight and out of hearing range, she spoke. 'Lord Cutler Beckett has sent me here. I am to fetch Jack's compass, which I have, and in return he has pardoned me. If I successfully return, I free my father.'
'Yes you told me this,' James nodded passively as he took another swig of rum. It was the last of the bottle.
Truthfully Elizabeth had thought he must have been too drunk to remember and felt it worth repeating. 'Yes but I know now something that Lord Beckett wants more, what he wants the compass to find,' she said, causing enough interest in James that he abandoned trying to get the last few drops of alcohol and watched her curiously. 'The chest of Davy Jones. If we were to return to Port Royal with it, we would be given anything that we may ask for. My father would be free and you may be given your position back James! It could mean us both redeemed!'
James looked as if in deep thought. 'Yes, but you also came to save Turner. How do you do that once back in Port Royal?'
'Whoever possesses the chest, possesses the leverage to command Jones to do whatever he or she wants,' she quoted what Jack had told her of it. 'Once we return to Port Royal, I shall simply ask Lord Beckett to demand that Jones frees Will and then Will shall be sent away as a privateer. All will be as it should for the better. Oh James, you will agree with me, won't you? It's the least I can do for you and I you're the only one here I may trust.' Elizabeth gave a weak smile, trying to force his decision on the matter to fall her way.
James studied Elizabeth for a moment, as if trying to work out the mechanics behind her. It was something he had never figured out. 'What happened to you trusting Jack naught five moments past?'
'Jack only cares for himself,' she admitted bitterly with her lip curled up. 'If not for him, I could have been in Port Royal by now, with my father. I dread to think of him in prison, unknowing where I am. He must be so worried. Will you help me?'
James didn't hesitate. 'I shall.'
WRITERS NOTE
Thank you for reading! xxx
I know 100% where this is going and am super excited to finish so that I can move on to a story that will be taking place after this!
