Author's Note:
The butterfly effect propagates...
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"My tremendous intuitive sense of the female creature informs me that you are... troubled," said Jack as he plopped down on the stairs beside her, rum bottle in hand.
She shot him a glance, wondering if he could see the newfound mistrust in her eyes, before staring back towards the bow of the Pearl. She had come here with the intention of avoiding James, because it was easy to spot anyone coming up from below deck, but neither had she wanted to draw Jack's attention.
"I just thought I'd be married by now," she said quietly, and it was only half a lie. The statement itself was sincere, but it was hardly the cause for her sullenness. "I'm so ready to be married."
The argument had left a bitter taste in her mouth. Everything about this James Norrington was so unlike the James Norrington she remembered. She had seen last night that he was a changed man, but she hadn't realized exactly how changed. There was a cruelness in him that had not existed before. She had seen that too in the filthy Tortugan alleyway, but she had attributed it to the rum. Yet less than half an hour ago, in a perfectly sober state, he had known precisely the things to say to infuriate her, and he had enjoyed saying them. Of course, she had known precisely the things to say to goad the same reaction out of him.
Maybe he wasn't the only one who had changed.
She recalled the last day that she had seen him, thinking it seemed impossible that just a year had gone by since she had watched his promotion to commodore, and she realized with a pang of sadness that both of their past selves no longer existed. The naive governor's daughter and the young Navy captain had died somewhere in the past twelve months, now living on only in memories.
Jack offered her his bottle of rum, and she hardly hesitated before taking it and swigging, frowning all the while. She was starting to understand what Jack and James saw in the stuff.
"You know... Lizzy..." began Jack, shifting on the step to draw closer to her, "I am captain of a ship. And being captain of a ship, I could in fact perform a... marrìage," He drew out the syllables, squinting at her with kohl-rimmed eyes, "Right here. Right on this deck. Right... now."
He leaned toward her with the last word and she recoiled at the foulness of his breath. She grimaced, thrusting the bottle back into his hands and pushing herself to her feet.
"No thank you," she called as she walked away, but he followed her.
"Why not?" he asked insistently, and with an annoyed sigh she wondered if this was how James had felt when she had pressed him for information earlier.
But that situation had been different, she reminded herself.
"We are very much alike, you and I. I and you. Us."
"We most certainly are not!" she exclaimed, perhaps a bit too quickly as she turned to stare at him in horror. James had accused her of sharing traits with Sparrow, and now Jack himself was saying it.
He took hold of the rigging and swayed closer. "Even so, you will come over to my side."
Her jaw clenched. "You seem very sure," she replied tightly.
"One word, love: curiosity," he said with that knowing, charming smile, "You long for freedom. You want to do what you want to do because you want it. To act on selfish impulse. You want to see what it's like." The smile broke into a rakish grin. "One day, you won't be able to resist."
She looked at him, leaned against the railing, and narrowed her eyes.
"Very well then. If you and I are so similar, then surely you would have the decency to answer a question honestly if it was asked of you," she remarked.
"Absolutely, love."
She watched him closely. "Is it true that you're indebted to Davy Jones?"
A dramatic frown crossed his face as he stepped towards her. "And might I inquire as to the source of such an outlandish rumor?"
"It's not difficult to overhear things on a ship, Jack," she lied, smirking, and she was surprised at how natural it sounded. Did she really have a talent for dishonesty? Had James been right?
She saw his lip twitch in disapproval and he forced an expression of indifference. "There is perhaps a small and trifling matter which as of yet remains unsettled..." he explained airily, gesturing with the rum bottle.
Her heart sank and her fear from last night, that she had been playing into one of his schemes, resurfaced with a vengeance.
Had James been right about everything?
"Then is that what happened to Will?" she pressed quietly, fighting back the emotion that threatened to break her voice.
"I haven't the slightest idea what you mean, love," he replied with apathy as he turned to sidle away, but she wasn't about to let him go so easily.
"Did you turn him over to Jones as payment?" she demanded, unable to hide her disgust.
He stopped in mid-step and spun around to face her again. "As I said before," he began, and there was something dangerous now behind his flamboyance, "Poor William was the unfortunate victim of regrettable but entirely unforeseeable circumstances, and will so remain until such a time that the heart of Davy Jones can be used to release him from his fate." He paused, leveling his eyes at her. "Savvy?"
It was almost a threat, and she stared at him in amazement, wondering how he expected her to possibly believe a word he said. She closed the gap between them, reaching forward to wrap her fingers around the rum bottle. "Just know that I am doing this for Will," she hissed, wrenching the drink from his hand, "And not for you, or for myself, or for anyone else."
She turned and began to walk away.
As she crossed the deck, all she felt was disappointment. Disappointment in the way this entire misadventure was playing out, disappointment in Jack for his blatant dishonesty and manipulation, disappointment in herself for trusting him so easily.
It seemed the only person who hadn't lied to her in the past twenty-four hours was, ironically, James Norrington. At least he had told her the truth, even if his intent had been to wound.
When she reached the steps that led to the galley she paused only long enough to take a swig from the rum bottle, trying to muster the courage to do what she felt she had to do, before taking the plunge and disappearing below deck.
