Chapter 10: Captain's Orders
Everyone expected the break of dawn to bring new un-pleasantries, for Vane and the crew of the Ranger were not exactly known for turning the other cheek. Thus it was to everyone's surprise, including Jack's, to find the place in the harbor where the sloop Ranger had been moored, now empty. Inexplicably, it seemed Captain Vane decided to slink off and lick his wounds elsewhere, the unlikelihood of which made Jack Sparrow increasingly uneasy.
Was his rival lying in wait for the Pearl, just out of sight over the horizon? It was common knowledge on the island that she would sail soon. And yet that too made no sense, for the Pearl by far outsized and outgunned the sleeker, smaller sloop by a longshot. Puzzled, Jack waited.
With Lizzy safely holed up in his cabin, waiting wasn't too unpleasant, to be sure. She had taken the blow of the destruction of her home surprisingly well, and Jack suspected she had only shoved it all down deep inside with everything else, to be mourned at a later date. He knew that trick with great familiarity. He knew the loss of her designs pained her, though outwardly she shrugged it off, reasoning that her best work was walking around beneath sailors' skins all around the world, so what did she have to cry about?
Most women would have found plenty to cry about, but Elizabeth just lifted her chin and marched on. Unflappable, that girl, and he couldn't help but admire her.
He also couldn't help the impulse to spoil her, and he surprised her the next morning with her very own sea chest packed with useful things. Tortuga was a veritable bazaar of illicit goods from all over the globe, and a great deal of those goods made their way into Lizzy's keeping. New linen shirts, sailor's pants of heavy canvas, a silk wrapper, brilliantly colored scarves and sashes. An oilskin coat. A knife and whetstone. Soap. Needle and thread. An ivory comb. A sword that was more her size and better balanced too. The list went on. By far her favorite was a fine French pistol with silver chasing, the hammer fashioned in the shape of a leaping dolphin.
A few days passed, and Elizabeth found herself getting restless confined to the Pearl with dry land so close at hand. One morning she woke early, Jack still dead asleep beside her, exhausted from their lovemaking the night before. Quietly she crept out of bed and dressed, carrying her boots in hand so as not to wake Jack.
It was a lovely tropical morning, the sky awash with soft purples and pinks. Soon it would be jewel-bright blue, and she enjoyed the cooler air of the early hour while she could. Gibbs too was on deck, and when he noticed her progress towards the gangplank he scrambled in her direction. "Good morning, Miss Lizzy!" he said, far too loudly for the hour.
"Morning, Mr. Gibbs." She crouched to slip on her boots. "Did you sleep well?"
"Ah…yes, yes indeed. Like a babe, erm…" He shuffled sideways as she began walking towards the gangway again.
"I am glad to hear it," she said with an arched eyebrow, perplexed by his determination to stand in her way. "I thought to go for a little walk before the rest of the island wakes. Is there something I can procure for you in town?" she asked.
What she really wanted was to inspect the charred ruins of her home, and see if anything had survived, though she hardly dared hope. She just had to see it one last time before making sail. The urge clawed and scratched inside her, and she knew if she did not she would regret it.
"Ah, no. It's just…perhaps you could stay onboard until the Captain wakes?"
Elizabeth paid him an indulgent smile. "Mr. Gibbs, I have lived on this island alone for more than two years. The Ranger has sailed, and I think I am capable of taking a turn on my own." She patted the sword slung over her shoulders to illustrate the point.
Because she had not waited around for Jack to save her from Vane, had she? She took matters into her own hands, and felt more than capable of doing so again, if need be.
"Erm...aye, lassie, I know you're more than capable, it's just..."
She tried to step around him, but Gibbs moved from side to side with an almost comically apologetic expression. A passerby may have found it very funny indeed, but Elizabeth was losing her patience, and swiftly descending into feeling quite annoyed. "Mister Gibbs, will you please step aside?"
Finally a voice from behind her stopped the spectacle at the gangplank in its tracks. "Lizzy? Why don't you come back to bed, love?"
Elizabeth whirled to find Jack in naught but his breeches, his scarred, tattooed, and sun bronzed hide bare for everyone to see. She should have been getting used to it by now, but somehow the sight of his uncommon masculine beauty still managed to take her breath away.
At the moment, however, this weakness only annoyed her more. She narrowed her eyes, and Jack reckoned he saw sparks flying from those deep brown orbs. He resisted the temptation to swallow, hard.
"Jack, how kind of you to join us. I actually am quite awake and do not wish to go back to bed. I wish to go for a fucking walk on the beach, but Gibbs won't get out of my way. Why is that, pray tell?" She suspected she already knew, and the more she thought about it the more it infuriated her.
Though he suspected it would do no good, Jack tried to talk her down. "Let me throw on some togs, and then I'll go ashore with you. We'll have breakfast at the tavern. Sounds nice, eh?"
Elizabeth only clenched her jaw; Jack could see the muscles flex in her delicate but sharply drawn visage.
"I need to go ashore alone," she answered after a few long moments passed. "I want to see the ruins of my home. I need to say goodbye again, and I don't fancy you looking over my shoulder for it."
Now Jack began to feel the heat of annoyance simmer in his belly. Didn't she see he was only trying to protect her? "You have a short memory, Lizzy."
"I remember everything very well, Jack. Am I your prisoner now? Your property? Your concubine? I suppose you've fucked me enough for free that one couldn't blame you for thinking so."
She flung these harsh words as daggers aimed right for his heart, and Jack inwardly winced as they hit home. "You know you're not any of those things to me."
"Then what gives you the authority to forbid me from leaving this ship? Are you ordering me as my Captain?"
Jack chewed on the inside of his cheek, his mind frantically racing as how to diffuse this situation. This was a side of Lizzy he had yet to get used to. The last time she'd been this angry with him he'd had a pristine white beach and a hidey-hole full of rum to temper her with. But that had also been on a teeny spit of an isle where she couldn't really get away.
The Captain card felt like the only smidgen of authority he held with her, so he prayed she would yield as he said, "Perhaps I am."
Elizabeth closed her eyes for a moment, fighting back a wave of emotion that would be of no help to her now. Who was this man? Where was her freedom-loving mad cap pirate, who would no sooner cage a bird, much less her? Had she misjudged him so badly? Suddenly she trusted nothing. Not Jack, or her own perceptions.
Her legs itched to move, and her right foot trembled with the urge to shove off.
She remembered Charles Vane's words. Sometimes a man must take a woman in hand, and tell her what's best for her."
The thought made her feel sick. Is that what Jack thought he could do with her?
Something hot and dangerous rebelled inside her, and when she opened her eyes a fierce creature looked back out at the world. "Then why is no one else forbidden from going ashore?" she demanded.
"You know why."
"The Ranger is gone!"
"That doesn't mean his cronies aren't still waiting for you."
Elizabeth shook her head, unable to believe Charles Vane would go to that much effort to avenge himself upon her. Her narrow body trembled with rage. "This is rubbish, Jack, and you know it."
"Tis not. You'll not go and that's my say so." He knew there would be hell to pay, but he would pay it, pay it gladly if only he could keep her safe. He remembered what it was like to be so young and impetuous and if only he'd had a staying hand to keep him from his worst misadventures. He was ready to call all hands and weigh anchor right this moment, if it would keep her safe.
"Then you give me no choice," she said quietly, sadness and a bitter edge to her voice. "I do not believe I have yet signed your articles, Captain Sparrow, and thus I am not yours to command. I fear I cannot accompany you on your expedition. Good day." She tipped her hat low, more to hide the anguish on her face than out of respect, and swiftly turned on her heel to run down the gangplank.
Jack watched her go, bewildered as to what exactly had just happened? Not but a minute ago they were curled up together in his berth, snug as love-bitten bugs, and now… He watched her blond head as she made her way down the docks, and her diminishing form as she walked swiftly down the quay. Then she ran, in the direction of her charbroiled shack across the harbor. He couldn't shake the feeling that his heart had run off with her, a magnificently painful ache pressing against his chest. Jack fought the urge to lift his hand to his heart, as though he thought he might find an actual dagger sticking out of his breastbone.
Something inside him screamed to go after her, but something else kept his feet firmly in place. Foolish pride gained an even surer foothold as he realized the entire morning watch fixed their stares upon him, having just witnessed their captain being bent over a barrel by a pretty girl.
He would be damned.
Gibbs dared place a hand on Jack's shoulder, giving him a fatherly squeeze. "Let her cool off a bit, Cap'n. Then you can go an' get her, easy as pie."
But Jack only frowned, a black expression taken over his handsome countenance. He hardly recognized his voice as he said, "If this is what she wants, Mr. Gibbs, I'll not chase her. Daft little bird." He swallowed back a wave of emotion, fighting like hell to keep his expression hard. He needed a drink, and on legs that felt heavy as lead he turned to go back into his cabin.
It smelled different now. Not only like rum and tobacco and old books and himself, but of her soft skin and the earthy scent of their lovemaking. Collapsing in his chair, Jack hung his head in his hands.
XXX
Elizabeth did not stop running until she reached the charred remains of her little hut, and she bent over gasping for breath beside the ruins. It was as she suspected, of course. There was nothing left. Just ashes and black lumps of charcoal that may have once been her settee.
That ridiculous settee, where Jack Sparrow had first claimed her heart, body, and soul. The thought made her angry, and like a shot she was running again, down the beach until the town was no longer visible. Just the crashing sea, the pristine beach, and swaying palms.
Once she was finally out of sight of all eyes she collapsed on the sand, and wept.
She did not move from her place for hours, the sun traveling from the horizon to high in the sky. She only revived slightly from her misery when a tall shadow cast over her wretched form. "I'm not going back, Jack," she sniffled, wiping her nose, not even bothering to look behind her. She knew if she looked, if she saw the anguish on his face, those soulful dark eyes, she would cave. She would give him anything he wanted. Freedom was just a pretty word—people needed each other, and she requiredJack Sparrow like water to drink and air to breathe.
But if she could just forget again…
She'd locked up her heart once, to survive. She could do it again. Couldn't she? She had to. She had to, she had to, she had to.
There was a nasty chuckling behind her that suddenly made her blood run cold. "S'fine wit us, love. Cap'n Vane sends his compliments."
A hard blow on the back of her head made the jewel-bright world go black.
A/N: Thank you everyone who has so patiently followed along! Your reviews have surely kept up my interest in seeing this fic through! Cheers!