Thanks to River and Sleepy Lotus and (new reviewer) 5dreamcatcher for their feedback! It is always welcome and appreciated.
writing seems to be flowing better lately, not sure if it's because I've found my rhythm or if it's because I'm drifting farther from canon and don't feel the need to double check for accuracy.
Hope you enjoy this chapter. Let me know what you think.
Disney owns the franchise. I'm just borrowing characters and their world for a bit of fun. Some OC's are mine.
Chp 12
Shipwreck Cove was as busy as it had ever been. Some ships that had arrived for the brethren court were still docked. First delayed by illness, then staying for trade with the Empress and other ships that were successful in picking off cargo ships from the British armada and bringing back goods to trade.
Business was brisk for locals and visiting pirates. There was also opportunity for pirates to find new opportunities. Sail with a different crew, to a new part of the world.
A number of pirates from the Black Pearl and the Empress chose to join other ships. Trying their fortune on the seas rather than remain behind to take advantage of jobs and trade. Staying was probably more lucrative in the short term, but some sailors, especially those who didn't know their letters and numbers, just preferred to sail.
The rhythm of her days changed when the carcass of the commandeered ship was towed to free up space at the docks to the wreck city for demolition. They could have just towed the ship somewhere and left it some other entrepreneur to take advantage of, but they could get a good price by taking the ship apart. The lumber had a much higher value when it was in a ready to use form.
She was up before dawn waiting with, what was left of, the Empresses crew to catch a ferry. While they waited, Master Wu, who the men called Sifu, would lead them in tai chi exercises. Sometimes they would engage in gentle sparing called pushing hands. She was not very good, but Sifu was endlessly patient in correcting her moves.
Her days were spent taking apart a ship. Slowly and methodically. Every board and beam carefully pried up. Splintered ends were sawed off to be sold as firewood. Every nail that could be kept was straightened, sorted and inventoried. The ones too bent to be saved were set aside to be smelted as scrap metal.
The issue of language was isolating for Elizabeth. Her Cantonese was improving. She could follow orders and some basic conversation, but she still had great difficulty expressing herself.
She found herself more exhausted by trying to understand what was being said around her, than from the physical labour. Sometimes at the end of the day, when she was tired, she would find her mind reaching for words in broken Portuguese or Spanish or something other than English but happened not to be Chinese either. If it wasn't so frustrating it would be comical.
She liked that they didn't baby her with light tasks. The work she did was as physically demanding as the next man. They respected her for that. Though some days her body felt wrecked by the end of the day, she respected herself for keeping up with the work. But she would always be an outsider. She was not,and could never really be, just one of them.
At the end of the day, when the light was too faded to work, they would take the ferry back to the village. Elizabeth would take her supper with friends aboard the Pearl. It always felt like a weight was being lifted when she was back among English speakers. She always felt at home among this motley crew.
They welcomed her warmly. Joking about her stealing their food. It wasn't true, they knew they had free access to the stores because of the battle they won and Elizabeth was a member of that crew. Besides, she was easy on the eyes, and besides besides, after their meal, she would join them in a song or entertain them with another chapter from her book.
Then Jack would invite her to spend the night. Elizabeth would decline. The crew would chuckle and jeer at his attempts to win her over. He would walk her back to the Inn and they would talk about the minutiae of their days. She would decline to invite him up to her room, but head upstairs alone and fall exhausted into a fitful sleep. He would head to the docks to find other entertainment for the night.
The dark cloud of a typhoon rolled in from the horizon late one afternoon. Lightning flashing in the distance. The wind gusting strong enough to create whitecaps on the normally still waters of this protected cove. Gibbs left knee had been forecasting a bad storm. Jack ordered his skeleton crew to tie down everything on the deck of the Pearl that could be tied down. Everything that couldn't be tied down but could be carried was taken below deck. They took cover in his cabin just as the rain started.
The sky was black as night when the rain started. The wind was fierce, tossing trees on shore and tearing at masts and sails along the docks. It was coming down so hard they couldn't see past the edge of the deck. The water poured off the roof of the cabin in buckets. The wind rattled the windows. The mast creaked and gusts of wind would rock the Pearl so hard she strained against her moorings.
Suddenly the door flew open and a soaking wet Elizabeth stepped inside. The wind was such that she had to lean the full weight of her body to close it again. Elizabeth was so wet, rivulets of water ran down her back and between her breasts. Her pants were so heavy with water they threatened to slide off her hips. Her boots were full to their brims with water.
It hadn't started raining when she'd left on the ferry, but the storm blew in so quickly they found themselves bailing out the small boat before they reached shore. Maybe she should have gone to the Inn. But it was much farther to walk in this blinding weather, and she'd gotten so used to coming straight to the Pearl after work. Besides, she'd be all alone at the Inn and she had left her book here.
"Gentlemen," she said in greeting. She didn't realize how her threadbare shirt was clinging to her until she noticed the men grinning stupidly while staring at her chest.
"Lizzie, darling," said Jack with a hungry look. He made no attempt to hide his gaze, "so glad you could join us in this typhoon. Can I help you out of those wet clothes?"
She blushed and looked away, crossing her arms and turning her back. She wasn't just embarrassed because of some ingrained sense of modesty. She was embarrassed because she had gotten used to being just one of the guys, and this moment made it very clear that she was not, and could never really be, just one of them.
"Come on," he said more gently putting his coat over her shoulders, "you can borrow something dry." She followed him, sloshing and anxious, into his chambers. He opened a dresser. "Help yourself to something that fits."
No one was hungry enough to brave the weather and bring food up from the pantry. Instead they raided the cabin for sustenance, snacking on peanuts and getting drunk on rum.
"Do you think it'll let up?" asked Ragetti, looking out the window of Jack's cabin at the howling wind and driving rain.
Elizabeth sighed, "it doesn't look it." She wondered if she'd accept Jack's open invitation to spend the night. She'd already accepted dry clothes from him. Why not take his bed too? Maybe drinking on an empty stomach was a bad idea.
She was wearing his shirt, curled up on the bench next to him, her bare legs tucked under her. Her head hurt. Maybe it was the weather. Maybe it was the rum. She leaned her head on his shoulder and let him put him arm around her.
It had been his turn to read. She had made him do it, once she found out how much he enjoyed reading. He agreed only if she would to do the women's voices, which meant she had to sit close enough to see the pages. When it was her turn to read, he reciprocated by reading the male parts.
Story time was over. It was getting late. Or maybe it just felt late because of the dark storm and her sleepy drunken state. She was listening to the rain beating down against the roof of the cabin. The Pearl rocked with the wind and the waves. She wasn't going back to the Inn tonight. Just the thought of putting her feet into cold wet boots made her shudder. No. She would be spending the night.
"I've had a long day," she said, getting up from the bench. "I'm going to bed. Good night gentlemen." She crossed the room feeling all of their eyes on her, let herself into Jack's chambers.
Her heart was pounding as she settled herself under the covers. What must they think of her? She strain to hear their reaction, expecting jeers, but the wind and rain were too loud. As tired as she was, sleep did not come. She lay under the covers listening to the storm, wondering what she was doing here.
Legs. He was mesmerized by her legs. Bare legs extending past the edge of his shirt revealing backs of knees, calves, ankles. Graceful long legs crossing the floor into his room. Her legs in his bed. He was still thinking about them when Gibbs interrupted.
"A word Captain," said Gibbs. He wasn't sure where to start. He and the others had talked about it more than once. That someone should say something. "We can't help but notice how close you've become with Mrs. Turner," he said, making a point of using her married name. "We don't want to see you treating her like you have others. I'm not one to get involved in your love affairs, but we've all grown very fond of Elizabeth. We won't take her mistreatment lightly."
Jack scoffed at his claim of not meddling. Joshamee Gibbs lived for gossip and getting into people's business. "I've never treated a woman badly," he said, not even quite believing himself as he said it. He thought through a list of women who might to whom he might owe some debt or apology.
"I don't pretend to understand women," Gibbs continued, "goddess knows I've had my own trouble with them. But I've been around the taverns enough to know about the promises you break and the string of broken hearts you've left in your wake."
"It's not like that with us," said Jack. "She's different." He didn't think of her the way he did other women. He'd never spent so much time chasing someone without making a move, or giving up and moving on. "Look," he said reassuringly, "Lizzie and I are square, savvy? You can ask her yourself."
"Say what you will Captain," said Gibbs, not at all reassured. "If things go badly, we're siding with her."
Jack looked around the room at the other men nodding solemnly in agreement. He was annoyed. Mutineers the lot of them. He was more annoyed because if he was one of them he would probably take their side.
"Captain," Ragetti said, "no disrespect," he was not usually one to assert himself without good reason, "but we like having Miss Elizabeth around and if you break her heart and she stops coming... Well, it'll be a sad day for all of us."
That was it wasn't it? It was Elizabeth who decided when she came and went. There was nothing keeping her here but good company and not even just his company. She wasn't even technically part of his crew anymore, though they all treated her as such. He was not her Captain. There was no payment owed to her. She was here only because she wanted to be here. She was a friend and everyone's favourite.
He wasn't good with women friends. He was fine with lovers and mates, even prostitutes, but she wasn't any of these. He treated her like a mate, but he thought of her like a lover. She was sleeping in his bed and he was going to bungle it somehow. He was going to hell.
She was in that state of dreamy half sleep when he came to the room. He took off his boots and lay down next to her. On top of the sheets. With his clothes on. He lay there taking slow deep breaths, while staring at the ceiling and listening to the storm.
"Are you awake?" she whispered after a time. Something felt wrong.
"Lizzie?" he replied, rolling on his side to face her. He couldn't really make her out in the stormy darkness. She was wrapped up in blankets curled away from him. "I thought you were sleeping."
"I couldn't sleep," she sighed. "I was wondering..."
When she didn't continue, he asked, "what were you wondering, Lizzie-girl?"
Was he being sweet or condescending? Something felt off. "If the others will think me loose for spending the night," she said quietly enough he had to lean in to hear her over the rain.
He scoffed, still sore from the dressing down he'd just received, "I don't think you need to worry about losing the respect of the crew"
"What does that mean?" she asked, picking up on the edge in his voice.
"You should ask Gibbs," he said annoyed, turning away from her. He hated that they didn't trust him with her. It made his blood boil.
She didn't expect to hear the anger in his voice. "Maybe I should leave," she said sitting up. When men get angry, women get hurt.
"Where would you go?" he said.
She threw off the covers and climbed over him. He grabbed her by the arm a little harder than either of them excepted, pulling her back into the bed. He felt her flinch when he touched her.
She sat on the edge off the bed, "let me go, Jack." She didn't need to be here. She could sleep in the other room or head below deck. The storm was still raging outside. It didn't matter. She didn't want to be here.
He caressed the scar on her arm with his thumb. He softened, "l sorry, please stay," but he let go of her arm. She must already be anxious about being here and now he was scaring her. This could hardly go worse. He was going to hell.
"Why?" she asked. He'd asked her to stay so many times and she had refused him so many times it had become a game, but she'd lost track of why they were playing. It seemed inevitable that one night she would stay. She'd felt anxious about it and the longer she didn't do it the more it seemed like a big deal when she finally acquiesced. She thought she would be fending off his ardour not his anger.
"I'm sorry, if I sounded angry. It's not you," he said sitting up and kissing her shoulder. She flinched again at his touch, but softened and leaned against him.
"What are we doing, Jack?" She asked.
"Sleeping..." he said, "unless... you're not tired..."
She turned to face him. Rested her head on the crook of his neck and let him put his arms around her. "I'm tired," is what she said. I'm scared is what she meant.
He let her go and shuffled over to make room for her. She lay down next to him. He spread the blanket over them. They lay next to each other not touching. After a time he sat up, took off his vest and shirt and sash and tossed them somewhere across the room. Then settled himself back under the covers.
They lay together not touching. Not sleeping. Listening to the storm. The Pearl rocking against her moorings, with the wind and the waves.
A big gust of wind pitched the Pearl in such a way the Jack rolled against Elizabeth and he reached around to keep her from rolling off the edge of the bed. His breath in her hair, tickling the back of her neck. "Sorry," he said. He seemed to be doing a lot of apologizing.
"Don't be," her whispered reply. They settled back together, away from the edge of the bed. His arm around her waist. Her back pressed against his chest. Their hearts racing.
"Is this ok?" he whispered into her hair, pulling her closer. Mmm, she sighed, nodding and holding his hand against her belly. Her fingers interlaced with his. The storm eventually rocking them to sleep.
Yes, gentle readers I conjured a typhoon to convince Elizabeth to sleep over. Perhaps Calypso herself, unbound and wild, has a hand in bringing these two together..? They don't seem bright enough to come together on their own, though everyone else sees it.
Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please send feedback. Favourite, follow, review.
