A/N: Nice to be welcomed so warmly, savvy... The reason for my silence was actually a multiple one. The second-to-last chapter mysteriously vanished from my computer after (luckily) being translated into german. This, I tried to retranslate it ito english, but couldn't really bring myself to it. Plus, I have been lacking time, not enthusiasm, but time, of late, so it takes quite some time for me to finish a chapter. I am still on it, however :-)

BTW, a bit of trivia concerning the title... Will Turner getting engaged to Elizabeth Swann is a bit of a cinderella story to me, (just that he's cinderella...), and in the cinderella story, glass slippers play a vital role, so to speak..

But did anyone ever think of how easily they break?


Chapter 52

On the fragility of glass slippers

"I will, as far as it is possible for me, be honest with you."

Elizabeth could not ban the sceptic look from her face. The situation was, in its own way, grotesque, for they were sitting, calmly, together, cups of tea placed in front of each of them, chatting aimably as if this were nothing but a social call.

However, social calls in the middle of the night were, in fact, highly unusual. And Elizabeth had not expected to see the spanish captain again, at least not anytime soon.

It seemed, as if she had underestimated him.

"I figure I am supposed to be flattered now?" she said acidly, tense, while Will, sitting silently next to her, took quick glances around as if once more trying to estimate the chances of escape.

She had to admit that Castellano had taken her quite by surprise, at a time, when they had already thought to be safely escaped from european shores. But apparently, the captain of their vessel had been bribed to bring them to this port, wherever it was, instead of Tortuga, where they had hoped to land, and now, it was hard to concentrate on this sudden conversation.

Undoubtly, Castellano had planned it exactly this way.

The same Captain took a sip from his cup right now, his chest heaving in what was apparently a soundless sigh.

"Is it so hard to imagine that I am trying to help you, Miss Swann?"

"Help us?" William Turner intercepted, shaking his head in exasperation. "We are practically your prisoners! So much for honesty, right?"

Castellano, as if under strain, closed his eyes.

"You may have noticed, Mister Turner, due to the very welcoming climate, and, maybe, if your naval knowledge allows it, also by the time of your voyage, that this is not Spain. This is la Bretagne. Saint Malo, to be precise. You might view it as a kind of neutral territory." He placed a hand against his forehead, as if trying to quell an ache coming from there. "Does that convince you?"

William watched him, eyes squinted, but he retreated again, and Elizabeth took over.

"So, if you are so... philantrophic, and trying to help us, what do you expect from it?"

Castellano watched her for a moment before answering. She did not like his demeanor, not of a predator, but of a spider, sitting comfortably in the middle of his web. Waiting for the flies to be caught, and she did not like to be in this position.

He was difficult to judge. Behind a casual smile and a very courteous manner, there was a man who knew very well, what he wanted. She did not know for sure, what position he had in the spanish navy, but for a moment, she wished she were negotiating with someone who was a bit more like James Norrington, straight laced, but honest, and so much easier to estimate.

But then, she decided, that she had not much to loose. She was, indeed, at his mercy, however golden the bars of her cage were, and he did obviously want something from her. Finding out what he was after was her only way out of this situation.

"One thing at a time, Miss Swann. I promised you honesty, and I stand to my word, as far as I am able. You will surely understand, that there are things, that I am not at liberty to reveal. But in short words, I am intrigued by the latest developments in Port Royal, and, even if this may come as a surprise to you, not only for political reasons. I was wondering...", his long fingers played with the silver spoon lying on the saucer, "... when did you realize that your father's guest is not quite what she claims to be?"

Elizabeth hoped she hid her surprise better than Will. She had, somehow, estimated that this had something to do with the spanish woman. Castellano had at least by name known the Halverys, so there was supposed to be more to it.

"Her daughter", she said, by way of explanation. "She... in a way... told me about it."

"Good Leonora", Castellano said, smiling almost whistfully. "In her way as extraordinary as her mother."

"You know her?" Elizabeth asked. Castellano nodded.

"We have crossed paths twice", he explained, "even though the first time long ago. She is in her own way a very memorable lady." He sounded almost whistful.

"She is quite mad", Elizabeth contradicted firmly. "She has been in our home for two months, and I never got a coherent word out of her." For a moment, she remembered Leonora's extravagant manners, wondering, if the tragedy of her life had robbed the girl of her wits, or whether the strange thing now bearing Crystabella Halvery's skin was responsible for this.

Castellano watched her, a frown plastered on his features.

"That is, indeed, odd. Out of curiosity, Miss Swann – do you think this is due to the death of her parents or due to her current situation?"

Elizabeth felt a shiver run down her spine. Obviously, Castellano knew quite a bit about this himself. He watched her, luring.

"I am not sure", she said, surprising herself with honesty. "If I had to guess, I would say, that it was not the death of her parents that unsettled her so."

Castellano nodded softly.

"As I said", he said, rewarding her honesty by responding in kind, "I have met her twice, and the last time was about a year back. I may be mistaken of course, but she did not strike me as being a person easily unsettled." He let the spoon wander through his long fingers. "So, what do you reckon it is, that is playing the role of Crystabella Halvery right now?"

Out of the corner of an eye, she saw Will shaking his head, maybe in disbelief, maybe as a signal to her, but she had not wanted to give a straight answer, anyway.

"Good question, Captain. Although not the only good question that comes to my mind as we are sitting here."

Castellano stood, pacing a few steps before leaning against a small cupboard, arms crossed.

"Cards on the table, Miss Swann?"

Elizabeth nodded.

"Cards on the table, captain."

Castellano nodded.

"Very well, Miss Swann. I have noticed, that things in Port Royal are – carefully spoken – a trifle off foot. I might, of course, just inform my superiors of this, but matters are never that simple, are they?"

He smiled.

"Thus, I am making you an offer. I know, that you are trying to regain footing in Port Royal, whether for yourself or for the British I don't care. I might be able to help you. A ship comes in handy at times, and I happen to be in posession of one."

"And the price?"

Elizabeth remained suspicious.

"The price is nothing that I figure you would regret to be rid of. As a recompensation for my help, I would ask, that after you regained Port Royal, you will return Leonora Halvery into my custody."

"Out of question!" Will Turner intercepted, in exasperation, looking to Elizabeth for conformation. But he did not like, what he saw in her eyes.

She was considering.

"Why?" she asked, after a moment's consideration. Castellano pursed his lips in amusement.

"Do you, as a habit, insult your own intelligence, or shall I just take this as a momentary lapse of reason?"

A muscle in her jaw twitched, and Will was tense as well. But they were in no position to flare up at the moment, and therefor Elizabeth continued, with icy calm.

"I just expect betrayal and second thought in my dealings, especially with you, Capitan. It seemed to me a wise course of action so far."

"Albeit not a very successful one..." Castellano got up and strode the room, his hands clasped behind his back as he looked out of the small cabin windown. "Prejudice, Miss Swann, as ugly a word as it is. I come to you, totally sincere, and yet you mistrust me still." He smiled to himself. "Nevertheless, I have to inform you, that my motives are, indeed, quite what meets the eye. Leonora Halvery is, as you may surely fanthom yourself, a valuable source of information."

"For you and for us", William reminded, mistrusting. Castellano nodded.

"Indeed. But, consider, if I help you, I place myself, my ship, my career at considerable risk. I may be prone to give in to philantrophic tendencies, but I am no fool. You have well observed yourself, that everything comes with a price. This is mine."

Elizabeth chewed on her lips thoughtfully.

"The exact terms of your support?"

"Elizabeth, you cannot be seriously considering..." Will intercepted in exasperation, but she cut him off short.

"Will... this is not the time." And, with a warning look towards Castellano. "Let me handle this."

He shook his head.

"I cannot believe you are doing this! If the state she was in is anything to go by, she needs help, not to be passed around like some unwanted bargain, Elizabeth. You are selling her!"

"Indeed, maybe I am." Her eyes had gone from questioning to cold, her temper flaring at his impropriate – and very unhelpful – behavior. "And if I am, than it is, because I have been taught a thing or other about negotiations, which probably does not apply to you!"

She knew the mistake the moment she spoke, but it was too late to send the words back in. He paled, if in rage or in shock she did not know, but without a word he got up, turning his back to her and towards the door. His shoulders were set, and for a moment, she felt the deep urge to cry out to him.

But she resisted.

And thus, William Turner left, unhindered.

"An interesting pair you make", Fernando Castellano remarked, amusedly.

"The terms." Elizabeth's temper was wearing short, considering the situation, considering, that Will had just left in anger, considering, that she had to admit that she had messed up things this time, despite her best intentions. Castellano raised a brow.

"Well. I will help you in whatever it takes to free Port Royal from the influence given. In this, I can offer you my ship, and my crew, and while I will not put them onto a suicidal mission, you may rest assured, that as long as I see a chance at success, you will find me at your side. In return to this, you will return Leonora Halvery to my custody."

"And if she does not want to?" Elizabeth hesitated.

"This is an imperfect world." Castellano seemed quite nonplussed about Leonora's possible discomfort.

"I see", the governor's daughter replied. It was a hard bargain. But she did not seem to have any other choice. Castellano had played his cards well, and briefly, she wondered, what exactly it was, that made Leonora so interesting for him. But maybe, she thought, only a moment later, it was Leonora's talent in forgery. Quite a many documents, true and false, must have passed her hands – and this might open doors for Castellano, that had yet been closed to him. The bargain was tainted. Elizabeth was negotiating about lives other than her own, as if the spanish girl were just a pupped to her. But there was Port Royal, there was her father. And there was the fact, that despite all the longing for adventure, a small part of herself wanted to know, that there was at least a home to return to.

So she nodded.

"Done."


She found him standing at the rail, looking down towards the city nestled upon the hill. The tide had withdrawn leaving much of the town's surroundings free of water, while they were safely bobbing up and down farther out. The scenery was quite idyllic, the night starry, because the wind had blown away all the clouds in its wake. The moon was nearly full, standing high in the sky and spilling a milky pale light upon the deck of the 'Bartholomew'.

She felt a lump in her throat. His whole posture spoke of anger, of pain maybe, and Elizabeth, looking at his silent form, realized, that she had gone too far.

"Is this all I am to you?"

She was still a few paces away, when she heard him speak, cold, bitter maybe. She stopped in her tracks.

"What do you mean?"

He turned around, and she had never seen him as angry as this. His eyes were hooded, and when he finally looked at her, there was nothing left of the characteristic warmth she knew so well. She realized, with a start, that she had really hurt him.

"Are you", he asked, very softly, his voice trembling ever so slightly, "seriously asking that?"

"No", she said, quickly, shaking her head. "No, of course not."

But this did not help her to get further. She knew she had hurt him by brushing him aside, but this did not change anything about her opinion in general. Her deal with Castellano was painful to say the least, but there was nothing else she could have done. Truly enough, she needed any support that she could get, and Castellano, even though he might not be exactly on her side, was at least some help.

And there was still the small hope of finding a way out of this without jeopardizing Leonora Halvery – presumed, of course, that she would think about being in Castellano's custody as a jeopardy after all.

"I know very well", he said, with a calm that spoke lengths of how forced it was, "that I have not had the same upbringing that was placed upon you." His hands were clenched into fists, outward sign of his internal turmoil. "But this does not give you any right to treat me this way."

"This is not about vanity, Will, not about yours, and not about mine. This is about responsibility."

He raised both eyebrows.

"Responsibility? Funny you should say that."

His tone was acid.

"Listen, Will", she began, but he cut her off.

"No, Elizabeth, this time you listen. Since this whole thing started you have keeping me at arms length, as if I were not worthy, or not capable of helping you in your current situation. You keep to yourself, you decide for yourself, and you do not even share. You treat me like a stranger, like a child, like an appendix unwanted." He looked at her sternly, but with lingering sadness in his eyes. "I am neither, and will not be made it either."

"I will not have you do everything for me, Will", she tried to sound gentle without moving away from her actual point.

"This is not about doing anything for you, Elizabeth. This is about the way you see me. I thought that, no matter what, we would be together in this. I thought we would support each other. I was thinking about...", he hesitated, "equality. But it was obvious, that I was wrong. Your are the governor's daughter. And I am... a blacksmith. I thoguht you would see bayound this. But, apparently, I was wrong."

She stared at him, horrified at what her words had done. He was maybe right – to some extent – and she, who did not, under normal circumstances, did not give much on upbringing or heritage, was apparently not as free of prejudice – and arrogance – as she had hoped.

"Will, I..."

He raised a hand, shaking his head.

"Don't say anything, Elizabeth, not now. I will go to sleep now. It has been a long and trying day."

She stared at his retreating back with tears in her eyes, violently wishing she was able to take back her words and at the same time feeling at loss