Chapter 10: Isle Agua de Vida
Elizabeth was experiencing a strange sense of déjà vu, a scene from the past echoing from her memory, playing out again in front of her. The merciless Caribbean sun beating down upon her, she watched Jack perform that strange stork-like walk across the desert island they'd been marooned on together, seemingly an eternity ago.
Only this time, the tables had turned considerably. It was now Barbossa who stood to be left for dead on the island, under a watchful guard as Jack worked to make good on his promise to his crew. Jack jumped up and down, once, twice, three times. Elizabeth knew what came next.
She'd lived it all before.
Jack disappeared beneath the sand, and bottles began appearing, tossed up and caught by eager hands of the crew. Though the joy of the event was infectious, Elizabeth herself decided she wouldn't imbibe in the Agua de Vida just yet.
She felt rather uneasy about the stuff. It smacked a bit too much of playing God for her tastes.
Jack, of course, had no qualms.
Still, there was a certain freedom in the ability to die that she wasn't quite ready to forsake.
She stood away from the others, and soon turned her back on the scene for a view of the azure blue waters stretching out to the edge of the world, or so it seemed.
"Bein' here make ye feel a bit nostalgic, luv?"
Elizabeth turned to look at Jack. He clasped a new bottle in his hand, and seemed smug as ever.
A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Oh, a bit."
Jack smirked, and slung a friendly arm around her shoulders. For a moment she was seven years younger, sitting in front of a bonfire with a legend in the flesh, terrified he would try to ravish her, and hoping a little that he would. "Ah, the things I wanted to do to you that night...but I didn't, because you were just a girl, on the cusp of true womanhood." He waved his hand animatedly. "Remember how I exercised such saintly and impressive restraint?" Gold teeth glinted in the sun.
Elizabeth leaned in to Jack, guiltily enjoying this small friendly contact. "You mean, remember how I got you so drunk you passed out, and then I burned all your rum? Yes, it's one of my fondest memories."
Jack's face fell, and he pursed those expressive full lips, raising an eyebrow. "Not somethin' ye want to be remindin' me of, if you be wantin' a ride off this rock, darlin'."
He made to walk towards the longboat, the goals of their landfall completed. "I don't think I would have nearly as much fun with Barbossa here," she admitted, following.
"Say that again, luv," Jack whispered in her ear. Unable to resist the proximity, he nibbled her earlobe, ever so gently between his teeth, before walking away with something of a spring in his step.
Elizabeth stood struck dumb, shocked that he would be so brazen in broad daylight, even if most of the crew was too busy passing around Agua de Vida to care if a whole armada of Royal Navy Ships appeared on the horizon.
Much less did they care if their captain made a pass at the Poppet, which old hat when they were together.
"Fraid this is where we part ways, chum," said Jack to Barbossa, swaying the way he did when sea-accustomed legs were forced to negotiate a more unyielding terrain.
"I'll give Francisco your regards, if I see him," said Barbossa as Elizabeth walked past. The singing ring of a sword leaving scabbard caught the attention of all nearby who had before then not paid heed.
Hector found himself once again staring down at Elizabeth via the pointy end of her sword.
"With an attitude like that, it would seem to be in my best interests to simply kill you now," she said coldly, eyes glinting hard as flint. Barbossa glared grimly, but replied nothing. With the heart of her husband at stake, quite literally, he didn't wish to push her. He'd seen her kill men for less before. "But maybe not. Maybe if you do come across our friend Francisco he'll do the job for me, because you failed him. He didn't strike me as the forgiving sort."
Barbossa stared glumly around at the crew who had attained that which he'd sought for the past five years to no avail. His stare then tuned back to Elizabeth, hard as rock and cold as ice. "There's nowhere either of us can hide, Mrs. Turner."
With a sneer truly worthy of a Pirate King, Elizabeth stalked away to the longboat, leaving the rest to follow her tracks.
"I'm not the one who always wants to run or hide," she grumbled. "I'm always the one who votes to fight."
But there was an uneasy feeling in her gut, and a near crippling weight upon her shoulders. At that moment, maybe she wouldn't have minded a nice safe place to hide after all.