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Now, on a serious note, I want to include a trigger warning for the first chunk of this chapter. I'm not ashamed to spoil part of my story in case any of my readers are triggered by mentions of sexual assault. So if you are triggered by this, please please PLEASE just skip down to where it starts in Alice's point of view.
If you still want to read the first portion of Lydia's point of view, I'll include a bold, underlined, and italicized astrisk where potentially triggering stuff starts. Thank you.
It had been a total of five weeks since her first time escaping the house. Though in those five weeks, she'd figured out how to get out with and without her husband's permission. Sometimes she would go down to the shore with Cutler, claiming that it was a nice day and that she wanted to see the water and ships. Since their fight, Cutler had become slightly more reasonable on the matter of when she was able to leave the estate.
Today, however, was not one of those days.
Lydia was creeping back towards the house and slipped in through the window. She quickly changed into a simple, apple green down and stored her change of men's clothing under her armoire. So far Cutler hadn't found them. She'd barely had time to sit down and open a book when Cutler stormed into the room. "Again, Lydia? Really?"
"What are you talking about?" Lydia asked, her eyes narrowed in confusion. She stared at her book, not looking up at her husband.
"According to Mary, you weren't in the estate today," Cutler growled. Lydia sat up and turned to look at Cutler.
"Of course I was," Lydia said in annoyance. "I've been wandering the house more than usual today, so perhaps she merely couldn't find me. But I was here. Do you truly trust me so little now?"
"You act as if either of us trusted the other to begin with," Cutler said with a snort as he sat down on the bed.
"True," Lydia said. "Though it seems that you're the only one who really benefits from this marriage."
"Well that was the idea, dearest," Cutler replied. "You're not about to go on another spiel about how I've supposedly robbed you of all freedom, are you?" Lydia rolled her eyes and turned back to her book, wanting to ignore her clearly ill-tempered husband. "I thought not." Lydia tensed her jaw and clenched the book of Shakespearean sonnets tighter. She took a long, slow breath and tried to calm her mind. Over the last weeks, she'd begun to figure out that the Nereid part of her hated not being in control. It hated that this man had every say in every little thing she did. She needed to stay calm, or she'd lash out and more than likely regret it. "Don't let me stop you from saying what's on your mind. I can tell that something is dying to escape your lips."
"I'm saying nothing because I don't want either of us to regret the actions that could follow," Lydia replied, her voice cold. Cutler let out a ghost of a laugh and stood up, taking slow, deliberate steps towards her.
"Do you know why I'm in such a foul mood today?" he asked her. Lydia shook her head, not looking up at him.
"A trade didn't go as planned?" she guessed. She could honestly care less as to what upset her husband.
"A man by the name of Gillette told me something rather interesting," Cutler said. Lydia stiffened and kept staring at the words in the book; words she was no longer paying attention too. "Something that gives me reason to believe that you haven't been entirely honest with me about what happened two years ago."
"Since when have either of us been honest to each other?" Lydia replied. "Whatever it is, you shouldn't pay much heed to it."
"Oh, but I should," Cutler said. "He told me of a conversation he overheard just days before our wedding." Lydia narrowed her eyes, trying to think of what all she spoke with her father about. Nothing they talked about was incriminating... unless Gillette heard what she and her father talked about in her secret cove. No one but she and her father knew about that cove. If Gillette had found it by following her... But he wouldn't have been following her unless he was ordered too.
"You ordered Gillette to follow me," Lydia said.
"Of course I did," Cutler said. "I wasn't going to let you run around Port Royal without my eyes following you. But that's not what we're talking about. What we're talking about is the fact that he overheard you and your father discussing the late Hector Barbossa." He bent down in front of Lydia and took her by the chin, forcing her head up to meet his icy gaze. "You lied to me. You said you hated every moment on that ship. Yet you were clearly heard speaking of how you had loved him and continue to miss him."
"Yes," Lydia said. "I was in love with Hector Barbossa. Are you happy now? What concern of is it to you anyway? He's dead! He's long dead!"
"It is my concern because I believe your feelings for him remain," Cutler spat. "I can see it in your eyes. You would choose him over me."
"I would," Lydia snapped, standing up. "I would in a heartbeat. Because even he wasn't as much of a cruel, heartless son of-" The next moment she felt a sharp pain across her cheek. Lydia glared at the ground for a moment, fuming at her husband's actions. Now the Nereid within was sufficiently angry beyond reason. She let out a grunt as her own arm swung toward's Cutler's face. He grabbed her wrist smoothly and pulled her closer to him.
"You dare to try and strike your husband?" he hissed.
"You've dared to strike me twice!" Lydia shouted. His tight grip felt as if it were very well going to bruise. The Nereid seemed to have no filter on her mouth as she said, "Do you know how I've dealt with sharing a bed with you every night? I think of him, not you." These words seemed to drive Cutler over the edge. His nostrils flared dangerously and his eyes grew very dark and cold. (*)
The next instant, Cutler's lips were on hers. Lydia struggled against him, trying to escape his grasp. He took her other wrist as she attempted to slap him again. She tried to stay exactly where she was as he attempted to drag her over towards the bed. "Stop it!" she shouted as he threw her against the bed. She tried to get up and run off, but Cutler had her pinned down too quickly. "Cutler, stop it!" His lips moved to her neck while one hand moved down towards her skirts.
"Are you thinking of him now, dearest?" he growled as his teeth scraped against her skin. Lydia flailed her legs, trying to escape him. Her skirts had been pushed up almost to her thighs.
"Cutler, stop it!" Lydia cried out. Tears were beginning to stream down her face as she figured out what was very nearly going to happen. "Stop it! Please!" Cutler suddenly looked up and the two met gazes. Lydia watched as the furious, lustful gaze softened and melding into a gaze full of panic and disgust. In an instant, Cutler had practically jumped off of her. Lydia lied there on their marriage bed, hot tears fall down her face. Her lower lip was quivering as she tried to hold back her fear.
"Lydia, I don't know what came over me," he said, breathing heavily. He almost looked disturbed by what he'd nearly done, not that Lydia felt any sense of pity for this monstrous man. "I'm so-"
"Get. Out," she hissed, her voice quivering. "Now."
"Lydia, please forgive-"
"Cutler. Just go," she snapped. She rolled on her side, not daring to face him. The last thing she wanted was to see his face right now.
"I didn't mean to-"
"LEAVE ME ALONE!" she finally shouted, throwing a pillow. There was a tense silence hanging in the room as she stared towards the window and started to sob. She didn't want to expose this weakness towards him... but it was too late now. "Just leave me alone."
"I'm sorry," she heard Cutler whisper. She heard his footsteps go further away from her as he left the bedroom, gently shutting the door behind him. A few moments later she heard a loud crash, a loud thumping sound, and a very loud, "DAMN IT!" echo through the house. Lydia didn't know how long she laid there crying, nor did she particularly care. She heard the doors open and the soft footsteps of her maid, Mary.
"Lord Beckett asked me to bring your dinner here," Mary said softly as she set the tray of food on the nightstand in front of Lydia. "He said he figured you wouldn't want to dine with him."
"His assumption is correct," Lydia said, her voice somewhat raspy from crying. "Leave me, Mary. I wish to be alone for a while." Mary nodded and left the room, though not before taking her mistress's hand and squeezing it tightly. Lydia let out a faint smile and squeezed Mary's hand back. It felt reassuring to know that at least one person in this house cared for her well being.
Alice looked up with Jack as they saw one native run across the bridge with a torch in his hand. The natives cheered as the one with the torch came closer. Meanwhile, Alice felt a rising sense of dread with each of his steps. She looked at Jack. This was possibly the every end for the two of them. "Aii, fai fai!" the native with the torch shouted as the rest of the tribe went silent.
"Aii, fai fai!" the rest of the tribe echoes. The native bent down to light the pyre (because the current flames barely even made smoke at the moment) but was stopped when another of the cannibals ran to the center of the ceremony.
"La esta so, la pelesa so. Eva kaka seisei," the teenage Pelegostos native shouted. They all paused and looked around in confusion.
"Well, go on, go get them! Helalla!" Jack suddenly commanded. Alice narrowed her eyes in confusion and looked up at Jack... well, she more looked up at his chin than anything.
"Helalla!" the Pelegostos shouted as they ran off. The one holding the fire let the torch drop, the flames now licking the edges of the smoking wood.
"No no, oi! No no. Not good," Jack shouted. He struggled in the bindings, trying to get free and get out. Alice struggled too, but to no avail. Jack began to blow on the flames, trying to send it away from them, only to end up getting some embers flying in their direction. The kindling suddenly flared up in flame. Alice gulped as she felt the heat draw closer. Jack, on the other hand, kept blowing on the fire even faster.
"Jack, stop, you're making it worse!" Alice snapped. "We need to somehow get this pole off the spit."
"I have an idea!" Jack shouted. "But you might punch me in the face for it later."
"Oh God, we're dead," Alice moaned.
"Act like you're jumping," Jack said. "Or if you prefer, act like you're blowing the grounsils." Alice turned her head towards Jack and arched an eyebrow. Was this really the time for the use of a euphemism for sex? Alice went with it anyway, and sure enough the pole started to bend and almost fly up from the spit. After a few goes at this, the pole flew out of the spit, sending Jack and Alice to the ground. As the two were sent rolling, Jack managed to pry apart the ropes binding their feet.
"This is great and all, but we're still tied up," Alice said.
"I'll run, you hang tight," Jack said as he got up. Alice groaned, knowing that she wouldn't be able to do anything anyway. Her feet weren't anywhere near the ground while Jack was standing. Curse her pathetic height...
Kitty heaved and shifted her weight forward as they finally got the bone cage over the ledge of the cliff. They were back on solid land at last. Unfortunately they had a horde of psychotic cannibals that would eat them if they got caught. "Cut it loose! Find a rock!" Kitty found a rock nearby and sliced at the rope, watching the fibers of vine break as she frantically sliced. When the rope was cut, Kitty had no time to feel any relief. The next moment, a horde of screaming, armed cannibals was rushing at them. "Roll the cage!" Will shouted.
Kitty and the rest of the men ran against the sides of the cage, rolling it across the ground. They didn't need much effort though, because soon they were rolling down a large hill. Everyone let out screams as they were forced against each other while the cage rolled. Through the jungle. The world seemed to swirl around Kitty as she felt the rising sense of dizziness from some much spinning. The cage rolled over a small cliff, thrusting the cage into the air. She let out high scream as the cage seemed to fly for a moment. The cage rolled up the side of a palm tree before crashing down. She fell on top of Gibbs and Will.
The denizens of the bone cage didn't even have a second to collect themselves. The horde of cannibals was already rushing towards them again, yelling their war cries in their native tongue. "Lift the cage!" Will shouted.
"Lift it like a lady's skirt!" Gibbs shouted.
"Excuse me!?" Kitty snapped as she lifted the cage up her legs. She held onto the bones and ran with the crew, not really reacting when Marty was rendered nearly useless because of his height. Kitty was panting and felt a burning sensation in her nose and throat. She couldn't remember the last time she'd run this fast and hard. In fact, she doubted that she ever had.
"RUN!" Will shouted as they ran through the tall grass of the island. They ran forward, not caring where they were going. Suddenly, Kitty felt the ground drop beneath her feet. She and the other men screamed at the top of their lungs as they found themselves plummeting downwards, into a darkened and narrow ravine. She felt the sensation of all her organ flying into her throat as they fell down into the darkness. The cage landed in the water below with a loud crack. Kitty felt the hard impact of the water, her entire back now stinging. How could water possibly hurt this much?
She felt someone take her arm and pull her towards the surface. Kitty gasped for breath as she met Will's eyes. "Thank you," she breathed out, spitting salty water out of her mouth.
"This way lads!" Gibbs shouted as the rag-tag group began to swim through the watery tunnels. Behind them, Kitty heard scream and then felt the rush of something flying past her head. She turned around for a second to see that the cannibals were throwing their spears at them. Kitty swam as fast as she could to the nearest source of cover. If they could hide long enough, maybe the cannibals would go away or assume they drowned. They looked up and watched as the natives came around to the next hole. Kitty closed her eyes as she braced herself for death. But the arrows and spears never came.
One of the native children showed up, shouting in their language, "Manka! Ma estoto. Ma estoto," the child said. The Pelegostos all turned around and ran off, screaming bloody murder.
"I think Jack and Alice escaped," Kitty muttered. Will silently nodded and the group and they swam towards the opening at the end of the watery tunnels, desperate to get back to the Pearl.
Lydia had hardly moved in the last week. Thankfully, Beckett made no effort to be with her since then. Perhaps he truly did have some remorse over what had happened... not that it made any difference to Lydia. She was almost sure that she would never forgive him for his actions. She almost felt as if she were a hollow shell of a human being. Actually, it was almost as if she was feeling nothing. Nothing at all. Part of her almost wanted to just do something to where she ended up wherever Hector had ended up when he was killed by Jack. Yet she knew if she did that then her father would have no one in Port Royal besides Little James. Little James probably wouldn't have anyone.
She suddenly heard a soft frantic knocking on the door. Just by the tone, she knew it couldn't have been Beckett. The door opened and Lydia saw a face she didn't think she would have missed. The maid who entered the room was none other than Astrid, her maid from when she lived with her father. "Astrid?" she breathed out. "What are you doing? You can't be here, Beckett will-"
"I have a message from your father," she said, frantically pulling a letter from her apron. "I didn't read it, I don't know what it says. It's probably for the best. All I know is that you're supposed to follow the instructions exactly." Lydia nodded and hugged her former maid.
"Thank you," Lydia said. "I owe you so much, but you need to get out of here. If Beckett catches you..." Lydia shook her head and let out a shaky breath. "I don't want to imagine what he'd do." Astrid nodded her head and quickly left the room, shutting the door behind her. Lydia quickly opened the letter and looked at the words. It was brief, as if her father had hastily scratched it down.
Get to the docks by midnight. Find a way, I don't care how. Don't let Beckett know.
Lydia memorized those three sentences as fast as she possibly could and then lit the paper on fire at the nearest candle. She grabbed a porcelain washing bowl and set the burning letter on it, careful not to let any ashes spill. She could toss the ashy remains into the fireplace later. No one would suspect extra ashes in a fireplace. She took a breath and strengthened her resolve. She couldn't lie down and pity herself right now. Now was the time for her to take action. Whatever it was her father was planning, she knew it meant an opportunity to get away from Port Royal. Lydia only prayed that they would succeed in whatever this plot was. She didn't want to imagine Beckett's fury if he discovered what her father was up to...