A/N: Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews! & I'm sorry it's been a month again *sigh* But this chapter is rather long, so hopefully the length will make up for the wait ;)
Disclaimer: I don't own Jack, Elizabeth, etc.
Chapter 28
Gibbs looked up when Blaxton walked into the galley carrying, very carefully, a bottle of rum in his hands.
"Mum said it's the best rum," Blaxton explained, placing the bottle on the table in front of Gibbs who chuckled weakly under his breath.
He thanked Blaxton with a smile, and reached for the bottle.
"Mum said," Blaxton continued, taking a seat across from Gibbs, "that Dad would shoot anyone who tried to drink it." Gibbs' hand was left suspended in the air as he gave Blaxton a questioning look, "But it's alright for you to drink it because we won't tell Dad it was you who drank it," Blaxton concluded reassuringly, making Gibbs smile.
For a moment, Joshamee looked at the bottle in silence, his face growing serious again. "The Empress… It was my ship but it was also a gift. Your mum gave her to me, you know," he sighed. "I felt responsible for that ship on my own but also on her behalf."
"It's not your fault that somebody burnt the ship," Blaxton observed matter-of-factly, resting his chin on his folded arms propped on the table.
Gibbs smiled faintly. "Well, sometimes guilt has nothing to do with fault."
"We need to-" Elizabeth started but stopped abruptly in mid-sentence at the sight of Jack closing the door behind them with his foot, and proceeding to taking off his clothes. "Jack, what are you doing?" she asked in that seemingly detached, demanding tone that Jack always found intimidating, and worse still he was quite certain that Elizabeth was using that particular tone on purpose, knowing how it made him feel.
Jack paused, his face hidden behind the shirt he had started pulling over his head. "If I remember correctly, love, you wanted to verify-"
"Oh, don't be ridiculous," Elizabeth interrupted him huffing in exasperation, crossing the room, and pulling a map out of one of the drawers.
Jack pushed his shirt back down and looked after her with a hurt expression on his face.
"We have to decide what to do," Elizabeth continued, unfurling the map over the table. "Are you going to do something other than pouting?" she asked, without even sparing him a glance.
"This is no way to talk to a Captain, love," Jack said in a low, dark voice, squinting.
"As a Captain I refuse to feel intimidated by this statement," Elizabeth retorted, biting back a smile, her eyes on the map.
Jack sauntered toward her, circled the table and stopped behind her. "It was not a threat; merely a fair warning," he whispered, his hands resting heavily on her shoulders before sliding down her arms and then moving to her hips.
Elizabeth tilted her head backwards, leaning it against Jack's shoulder. He pressed his lips to her cheek. "You do know you're just getting yourself into more trouble?" she questioned when he started trailing soft kisses across her neck.
Jack's eyebrows knitted in confusion as he glanced up at her. "How is that?" he asked, sincerely perplexed.
"If you think you can distract me from further inquiries concerning the newest addition to our crew, you couldn't be more wrong," Elizabeth said in a low voice, turning her head so her cheek was pressed to his shoulder, her eyes fixed on his face. "What's her name? Who is she? And don't tell me that you don't remember," she added through her teeth.
Jack sighed; twice. "Her name is Angelica but it's the most misleading name, I assure you." Elizabeth still looked at him, her jaw set. Jack's eyes lit up, a shadow of a mischievous smile flickering across his face. "Being jealous of the people I was acquainted with while you were learning to spell your name, love, is hardly sensible but I'm far from complaining if it means your intensified attention."
"My attention is now elsewhere," Elizabeth said distinctly, pushing his hands off her. "But I still intend to learn the whole story." She turned around. "However, I assure you that I have more reliable sources of information than your treacherous," she trailed off and standing on her tiptoes whispered against his lips, "mouth." And with that she turned on her heels and marched out of the cabin with the map in her hands.
Jack was about to follow her, but then something screeching and colorful flashed right in front of his face almost causing him to lose his balance.
Feather-holder sat on a table, tilting its head and regarding Jack with black, glimmering eyes.
Jack glanced right and left, up and down, and back at the bird. "How did you get here?" he asked at last, eyebrows furrowed.
The parrot fluttered its wings with apparent indifference before announcing defiantly: "Yo ho."
Jack rolled his eyes, and headed out of the cabin, muttering under his breath.
"Now we're trapped here," James said, his eyebrows knitted as he watched the crew preparing the ship to set sail.
"Do we have a choice at this point other that to be where we can be and fight if need arises?"
James turned to Celeste with a small smile, his eyes bright. "I don't believe in fair battles anymore. It's always a scheme, whether designed by a human or divine hand."
She returned his smile, coming closer to the rail and slowly, carefully placing her hand over his.
"Is that a yes?" James asked all of a sudden, before she managed to say anything.
Celeste blinked but her confusion lasted only for a second before she laughed briefly, shaking her head. "Had anyone ever told you how stubborn you are?"
"I've never been stubborn, Celeste. I'm just always trying to bring to a satisfactory conclusion every project I undertake."
She raised an eyebrow at him. "So I'm a project now? Is that flattering in the military language? "
He smiled. "Yes, it was meant to be a compliment but as I tried to make it original I apparently failed in making it beautiful. You are the most demanding and difficult project, Celeste."
"In both of your lifetimes or just this one?" she asked, squinting.
He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it.
From afar, Teague's stormy eyes regarded the scene with silence hammering in his ears.
Because of the delay caused by the parrot, Jack was not able to tell which way Elizabeth had gone. The galley, perhaps? On his way there, he noticed a door left slightly ajar, so he peered inside, his eyes meeting Will's grim gaze.
"You can't expect to be left alone if you leave your door open," Jack said, glancing around the cabin.
"The door wasn't closed but it wasn't open either," Will retorted, raising a mug to his lips.
"Drinking alone is not a good idea, mate."
Will sighed. "It's water that I'm drinking," he said, mildly annoyed, and indeed Jack noticed a pitcher of water sitting on the table.
Jack frowned and to Will's visible discontentment walked in. "Drinking water alone is even worse," he said, studying Will's face with exaggerated wariness before deciding to join him. "What's the matter with you?" he asked, slumping onto a chair across from Will.
Will glanced up at him. "Do you really care?"
"You're ruining my otherwise fine mood with your face scrunched up like that."
"I'm impressed you're able to retain a fine mood with Jones and the entire Royal Navy trying to hunt us down."
"That's hardly news, is it? Unless you have your own reasons to fear them," Jack added after a pause, his eyes fixed on Will's face in sudden seriousness.
Not a muscle in Will's face twitched, and he just stared at his hands closed around a mug in front of him. "I might have crossed paths with someone of significant influence."
Jack moved the pitcher of water toward himself and sniffed it as if checking if it really was water. "Cross paths as in become acquainted with and stay on friendly terms that may benefit you greatly in the future?"
A flicker of a humorless smile passed across Will's face. "Cross paths as in being caught, locked up and press-ganged into service."
Jack blinked. "Sounds familiar but I'm going to pretend you're not being ironic."
Will ignored the comment. "I might have crossed paths with someone who might now be interested in seeing me dead."
Jack waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "If I was to stay clear of everyone who might be interested in seeing me dead, I would have to lock myself up in a chest and bury the chest on a deserted island."
Will shot him a look and then looked back to his mug.
"I see your sense of humor isn't improved much," Jack said and cleared his throat. "Does that person you might have crossed paths with have a name?"
Will hesitated before apparently deciding there was no point in dragging it out for any longer. "It's the King of England."
"The King himself?" Jack merely raised his eyebrows and Will inwardly commended the lack of anything other than matter-of-factness in his voice.
"I came to London on a mission that was supposed to pay well but turned out to be a hoax. I was trying to… borrow a horse to get out of town but I was caught. As it turned out, the horse belonged to the King. I was imprisoned and made an unwise decision to brag, hoping this could win me some respect and perhaps a pardon. Unfortunately, the effect was quite the opposite, and instead of leaving London I was forced to stay as a sword master, a tutor to the King for almost four months until I finally managed to escape."
Jack was silent for a second. "That should be the end of the story, shouldn't it?" he said, narrowing his eyes at him.
Will looked up, his eyes focused, strangely wary and Jack had to admit he did not like the change. It was always such a sad change, sheer, naïve enthusiasm of I'll die for her reduced to measured caution and nigh customary lack of trust.
"I've overheard something I was not supposed to hear."
"It wouldn't matter unless they are in the possession of something they can threaten you with," Jack observed, studying Will's face. Will averted his eyes and said nothing for a longer while, and when he finally spoke his voice was barely audible.
"Before I escaped, I received a letter from my wife." He felt too numbed by the memory to even look at Jack to see his reaction to what he was saying. "The letter was to let me know about the birth of our daughter. But there was also another letter, from a friend of ours, who wished to inform me that my wife had died… But the dates made no sense. My wife's letter seemed to have been written several days after her presumed death."
"Do you think they've been abducted?" Jack asked, and when Will looked at him he was surprised by the look of sincere concern in his eyes. "You didn't make the mistake of-"
"Of course I did," Will cut in exasperatedly. "I thought they would release me if I told them I have a family waiting for me but I was merely allowed to send them a message along with some money."
"Well," Jack said, rising to his feet. "Then you better come to help plotting the course."
Will looked at him but did not move. "It always comes back, doesn't it? Everything we do to others comes back to us."
Jack's forehead wrinkled in thought but only for a moment because the understanding quickly dawned on him. He briefly considered an appropriately snappy comment but then brushed it off. "I hope not," he said instead, his nose twitching.
Will shifted his eyes to him, wondering if it could really be amusement that twinkled in Jack's eyes.
Jack held his gaze for a moment but seeing no change of mood on Will's face he rolled his eyes. "I suggest you'll continue the moral whipping of your sullied conscience once the course is set. Come," he waved his hand in a sweeping gesture and left the cabin.
Smiling to herself, Celeste ran down the steps and walked briskly across the dim corridor, stopping only when she suddenly heard her name being called in a voice so quiet she was surprised (and annoyed) she heard it at all.
"Could you be as kind as to leave me alone?" she asked without turning around, outstretching her fingers so her hands would not curl up into fists.
"I have never left you," Teague murmured grimly and she jumped upon feeling his breath on her neck. When she turned around he was standing so close she had to take a step away from him to be able to straighten her shoulders.
"I'm not interested in your distorted memories. Keep your self-made-up legends to yourself," Celeste said through her teeth, shooting him a condescending look and making to leave.
She gasped when he grabbed her, his gnarled fingers closing around her wrist, his eyes dark and bright at the same time, the contradiction that edged itself into her memory so well that it almost hurt to look into his eyes now, for it felt as if she was plunged back into the past, into the traitorous magic of his words, his touch.
"I know you must think me repulsive now," he said in a low voice, his lips barely moving, his grip loosening, "with this face of crisscrossing decades running as deep as scars. I do not mean to torment you-"
"Repulsive?" She cut him off with a bitter, humorless sneer. "It's your actions or inactions that I find repulsive, nothing else," she said, not really knowing why she actually bothered to clarify that.
He fell silent and something glimmered in his eyes even though her own eyes remained unforgiving but what she realized too late was that it was not the look in her eyes that mattered but the fact that she held his gaze, that she did not look away, that she was still standing there, staring at him.
His fingers remained closed around her wrist but so lightly that it would take the slightest of efforts to snatch her hand free. Maybe it was what he waited for right now but somehow the possibility did not occur to her and she became aware if his touch again only when his hand moved from her wrist upwards, sliding toward her arm with bruising force until it stopped on her shoulder, jerking her forward. Her breath caught in her throat, and she was feverish to push him away but what she expected to happen never happened and instead of kissing her he just closed her in his embrace, pressing his lips to her cheek.
She froze amidst the flames that were dancing before her eyes, so bright and tall she could not see anything; she could just feel his lips against her skin, doing nothing, just pressing a silent kiss that would not end, would not become anything else.
"I didn't love you beautifully enough, gently enough, happily enough, but I did love you."
The words drifted to her from behind the flames, tears stinging her eyes, and she struggled to open them.
But when she did, he was already gone, and she could only hear the sound of his heavy, uneven steps vanishing into silence.
"We won't be wasting time waiting for those who aren't interested in important matters," Elizabeth muttered, splaying the map over the table with Gibbs' help.
"Maybe I'll go find him?" Christelle offered helpfully but Elizabeth stopped her with a smile.
"Thank you, Mother, but we don't need all the Captains to plot one course," Elizabeth said, sitting down next to her parents, Blaxton climbing on a chair nearby, his eyes never straying away from the map.
Governor Swann took his wife's hand in his and squeezed it lightly; they exchanged a smile.
Somebody knocked on the door and it was pushed open. Will walked inside, asking if he could take part in the plotting of the course.
"Jack should be here in a moment too," he said, sitting down.
Elizabeth looked at him questioningly but he did not say anything more.
"Is it something that urgent?" Jack asked, with a frown, following the dark-haired woman up onto the deck.
She turned around, her eyes ablaze. "Is it urgent?" Angelica mocked him. "Are you asking me if this is urgent?" she said, her voice rising to a dangerous level that caused several crew members to take notice.
Jack squinted, glancing around. "Well-"
"My ship is gone," she said, pointing to where her ship and the Empress had been, now reduced to orange flames and the awful sound of crackling wood. "And I'd like to know why."
Jack widened his eyes at her, baffled. "How am I to know that?"
Angelica crossed her arms over her chest. "I thought you might consider it a fair revenge," she said levelly, studying his face with sudden intensity that evaporated when she noticed the confused look on Jack's face. "Well," she continued hastily, "if you don't know why this happened I guess I should consider the other possibility," she said, her eyes traveling to her burning ship, her gaze half-thoughtful, half-grim.
"You should've started with the other possibility," Jack observed, squinting. "Whatever that is."
She shifted her eyes to him. "Where are your manners Jack?" she asked tilting her head to the side. "You didn't even welcome me aboard," she said, a sultry smile playing about her lips.
Jack returned the smile. "You're changing the subject, darling."
"I hoped you might be drunk enough not to notice that," Angelica said dispassionately, looking away.
"As you can see, I'm more sober than ever," Jack said, extending his arms.
"That may be true," she muttered, looking him up and down. "Which would be odd but then, I've only heard odd rumors concerning you, as of late."
"Villanueva is a resentful man but I wouldn't suspect him of lying," Jack said, his nose twitching in a small, complacent smile.
Angelica regarded him coolly. "I'm not talking about those rumors," she almost snorted.
Jack looked offended. "It isn't a rumor. We did find the Fountain of Youth."
She smirked. "Yes, that's what I was talking about." Jack's eyebrows furrowed. "We."
"Ah." He smiled even thought the smile did not reach his eyes. "I'd never think it takes one wedding to impress the entire world."
"You would've done that earlier if you knew that?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.
"I wouldn't have allowed that to happen."
Jack half-turned, his eyes meeting Teague's impenetrable gaze.
"Well then, I'll leave you two to discuss the good, old times," Jack smiled and walked off. "And you may even throw each other overboard afterwards," he mumbled under his breath.
With the course set, Elizabeth with her parents and Blaxton went to check on Lillian who had fallen asleep shortly after they had stepped on board.
The little girl's cheeks were stained with tears, her face pressed into the pillow, her small hands curled into first, tucked under her chin.
"Somebody should be here when she wakes up. It's not even afternoon yet. She must have been simply exhausted from crying and she may wake up soon," Christelle said softly, offering to stay in the cabin with Lillian.
"We'll stay here together," Governor Swann said quietly, his heart clenching in his chest at the sudden realization that watching over the little girl together may remind them of what they had missed… But perhaps it was what they needed, what Christelle needed - making up for the lost time in whatever way fate would allow.
Elizabeth must have understood it that way too because she looked at Lillian and then smiled a bit sadly and wrapped her arms around her mother, snuggling her face into her hair. They stood for a longer while in silence, and when Elizabeth drew back she could see tears glimmering in Mrs. Swann's eyes.
"I'm so happy you're here," Elizabeth whispered, taking Christelle's hands in hers, and smiling through her own tears that she quickly wiped off with the back of her hand.
They embraced once again and then Elizabeth and Blaxton quietly left the cabin, leaving Lillian in Christelle and Weatherby's care.
James stood by the rail, closing his eyes against the light breeze, breathing in the fresh, sea-soaked air and listening to the sound of waves interlaced with words shouted between the crew members, words so familiar that merely listening to them felt like home.
He briefly thought of helping the crew but then decided, with a thrilling sense of dread at such utterly selfish choice, that standing idly by the rail, as far away from anyone as possible, and daydreaming was something he was enjoyed doing right now much more. He smiled to himself again at the thought and opened his eyes, watching the sunlight drape itself over the water surface. Her fingers feel that way too… like sun rays…
"Is that the key to life?"
James' thoughts dispersed into the wind surrounding him and he slowly averted his eyes from the sea.
"Not to fear death?"
The voice was as menacing as he remembered, with some words stressed in that strange, ominous way that made cold shiver run up one's spine.
But when James turned around it was not Davy Jones he remembered that stood before him but an ordinary sea-man with keen eyes and worn-out hands, his dark, greenish hat casting a shadow over his face.
"Perhaps," James said slowly. "Unless it is life that you fear."
Once in his cabin, Blaxton ran to his bed, and slumping to the ground quickly lifted a loose floorboard to check if his hiding place's contents were intact. Making sure everything was fine, he replaced the floorboard and jumped to his feet right when Elizabeth walked in.
She bit back an amused smile, pretending she had not seen anything.
They spent a few minutes tidying the cabin, asking each other questions about what they had been doing while being apart. Elizabeth could sense Blaxton's mood changing when he was recalling the violent attack he had witnessed, and she suspected it was largely due to the fact that it was a pirate attack and he still could not comprehend the idea.
"Mum?"
Elizabeth sat down next to Blaxton who had climbed onto his bed, and looked at him concernedly. She was about to reassure him that if he wished he did not need to stay in his cabin but could be temporarily relocated to the Captain's Quarters where he could sleep in a hammock, the one in which he had practiced sleeping not so long ago. An oil lamp could stay alight throughout the night, and-
"Mum… did you really… kill Dad?"
The question blew over Elizabeth's like a gust of icy-cold wind. For a moment she just stared at her son, half-hoping she only imagined the words, suddenly terrified despite having prepared herself for this conversation after Davy Jones' ominous claim that he had told Blaxton the truth.
Still searching her mind for an answer Elizabeth shook her head. "It's a long story," she said in a blank, hollow voice, almost choking on the words, trying to hold Blaxton's gaze, as if her eyes could possibly convey what she was not sure how to explain-
"And an impressive one at that."
Elizabeth shuddered, startled. Suddenly, there were Jack's arms sneaking around her from behind, his palms sliding down her forearms and closing around her wrist, his fingers intertwining with hers.
Turning more toward his parents, Blaxton sat on his heels, but Elizabeth was too numbed by this particular conversation actually happening to pay attention to the fact that Blaxton was now sitting on the bed with his dirty boots on.
"You should've seen Mum closing those shackles, so soundlessly, without even stealing a glance downwards," Jack continued in a voice that made it seem as if he could hardly contain his enthusiasm. Peering from behind Elizabeth's shoulder, he pulled her stiff form deeper into his embrace, pressing his warm cheek to her cool one as he spoke. "Nobody else could possibly do that. Not even Teague with those needling eyes of his," Jack said with a twitch of his nose. "Nobody's fingers are as pretty and deft as Mum's," he said with a wink, raising Elizabeth's hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to the back of her hand.
Darting her eyes to Blaxton, Elizabeth noticed with astonishment that he straightened up and was now listening to Jack with utmost excitement.
"How did you do that Mum?"
That strange shadow of sadness was completely gone from his eyes and face, replaced by the familiar sense of wonder and respect that she had feared was to be lost forever.
Elizabeth swallowed, and opened her mouth to speak but somehow she still could not find the right words, her throat dry, memories rushing to her mind in their original form that inconveniently lacked he ebullient heroism that Blaxton had probably expected to hear about.
"Well, Mum can't very well reveal all her secret skills just like that," Jack said in a conspirational whisper, fiddling with Elizabeth's hand in his. "Or can you, love?" he asked, drawing back a little, and looking at Elizabeth with warm, calm eyes that seem to emanate reassurance. She smiled weakly, closing her fingers around his hand.
"No, I'm afraid I can't," she said somewhat timidly, looking back to Blaxton who did not seem to notice the lack of energy in her voice, more focused on the accomplishment itself.
He seemed to ponder this for a moment and then asked:
"But… why?"
Out of the corner of her eye, Elizabeth could see Jack's eyes narrow, and for a moment she though that now he was also at a loss for explanation but her suspicions could not be more wrong.
Jack leaned forward, causing Blaxton to lean forward as well. "That was the point," Jack stage whispered, winking.
Elizabeth bit her lip, blinking, and looked at Blaxton who did not seem to understand the explanation either but made his best not to let it show.
But then, suddenly, to Elizabeth's (and Jack's) surprise, Blaxton's face brightened. "Dad wanted to sneak into the Locker!" he exclaimed, almost bouncing in delight.
"Aye, that was exactly the plan," Jack said immediately, grinning.
Elizabeth smiled uncertainly, not sure if making up yet another story was the best course of action. On the other hand, there really was not any other sensible way to explain to a six-year-old child what had happened that day.
"And you didn't want Davy Jones to know that you wanted to get into the Locker," Blaxton continued weaving the story, and although Elizabeth was pleased that he was smiling again, she was not sure she liked the idea of this particular story becoming his favorite one.
"That's right." Jack said matter-of-factly, trying to think of a reason why he would have wanted to get into the Locker, anticipating such a question to be asked any moment but it so happened that Blaxton suddenly remembered about another detail.
"But… if you wanted to get into the Locker… why did you try to row away from the iBlack Pearl/i?" Blaxton drew a breath. "And from Mum?"
Elizabeth looked at Jack, noticing that he was not very thrilled to be asked that particular question. She stirred, straightening up, and half-humouredly giving Jack, for a change, a superior look.
He furtively narrowed his eyes at her but then Elizabeth leaned toward Blaxton and said in an appropriately secretive tone: "Dad wanted to drag the Kraken away from the iBlack Pearl/i and from everyone on board, that's why he took the longboat and started rowing away so he would sneak into the Locker on his own, and not on board the ship."
Jack's mouth twitched.
"Ohh," Blaxton nodded in complete understanding. "But it didn't work," he said with a compassionate sigh.
Elizabeth nudged Jack who quickly cleared his throat. "Aye. It turned out the beastie wasn't interested in swallowing a dinghy."
Elizabeth stifled a chuckle while Blaxton wanted to ask another question but then Gibbs walked into the cabin with a very strange expression on his face.
"I'm sorry for interrupting but it seems that we have a guest…"
Jack raised his eyebrows. "A guest or a stowaway? This ship is crowded enough. If you found a stowaway please request him to walk the plank. We're still near the shore. If he isn't missing any vital limbs, he has every chance of successfully making it back to port."
Elizabeth laughed.
"I've never seen anyone walk the plank!" Blaxton exclaimed, struck by the realization.
Gibbs waved his hands, silencing them all. "You don't understand-"
He trailed off, glancing over his shoulder and then slowly stepping to the side, letting the person behind him to walk in.
At first, all the Sparrows seemed perplexed at the sight of a man standing in the doorway but as soon as the person spoke, they knew exactly who the stranger was, and they just stared at Davy Jones in silence.
