The next morning, Elizabeth begged Jack to stay in the Cove one more day. Jack relented, although he negotiated that he wouldn't do so with his wits fully about him. He returned from the sloop with rolled up herb and raised an eyebrow at Elizabeth, wordlessly offering it. Elizabeth stared at the roll wearing a half-formed smile, mulling over slipping into a high. She already lived a perfect wedding night and living her first day as Jack's wife with the edges of her world a little hazy sounded like right fun. Elizabeth smoked with Jack before, although not in some time, so when she drew the roll away from her mouth, coughing some and reaching at her throat, she narrowed her eyes at his laughter.
Set in high spirits, Jack and Elizabeth were looped arm-in-arm, spinning and laughing in the Cove which seemed nearly an entirely different space aglow with sunlight. Elizabeth stilled them to straighten the crown Jack stole to rest straighter on his head. It looked better on him, Elizabeth reasoned, and she told Jack as much. He argued her on this point, going back and forth for a while before they gave up on the argument, ending tangled up in each other on the sail again, sharing lazy mid-day kisses. Perched on Jack's chest, Elizabeth watched him continue to smoke as she let her mind drift into a collection of memories.
Elizabeth remembered Spain with Jack, in particular, going about trading—and admittedly some thievery—by day then indulging in each other's company by night, pausing to dance to a guitarist only after Elizabeth rolled her eyes fondly and removed a rose from Jack's teeth. Sometimes Elizabeth wasn't sure if Jack was in on the ridiculousness of his own antics or if he was completely delusional, but she didn't care much either way because he was with her. She recalled his hands at her waist, guiding them in a dance.
"Why is your frigid upbringing shining through now, Lizzie? Can't be the same hips from last night."
Elizabeth's face grew hot and she managed to look insulted, glancing around to ensure no one overheard although they were entirely alone, enveloped in the blackness of night outside of the street entertainer.
Jack passed her the roll once more and Elizabeth turned it over in her fingers for a moment, watching the smoke play upon the air before inhaling some in, the burn in her chest welcomed this time. Jack played with her hair, his eyes lidded, properly relaxed as he studied her.
"What's on the Swann's mind?"
"I was dreaming of Spain," Elizabeth sighed, resting her head atop her arms crossed upon Jack's chest. "And you?"
"Japan."
Elizabeth inhaled from the roll once more then slipped off of Jack and onto her back. She blinked her eyes closed and cast an arm over her eyes to fully block the sun. Elizabeth called upon memories of trailing hand-in-hand with Jack through the garden then stopping, breathless at cherry blossoms floating on the wind. Inspired and overcome by the sight, Elizabeth tipped back Jack's straw hat to kiss him, searching and gentle. They saw so much with each other and, in a fleeting moment while lost in the remnants of the memory in the Japanese garden, Elizabeth was struck with sudden worry that maybe they would find themselves unable to see the world through new eyes. What then? Elizabeth came to, blinking, realizing maybe new eyes weren't the ones she was searching for.
She leaned up and looked over her shoulder, her sight bleary, then focused on a corner of the Cove they overlooked the night before, distracted by intermittent touches and kisses. Elizabeth rose to her feet and stalked towards the corner, nearly stumbling over a dip in the floor. She stopped and clutched her sides, apparently finding the matter quite funny, and when she looked up, coming down from laughter and still smiling widely, Jack's hand found the small of her back.
"Right silly now, aren't you?" Jack tipped Elizabeth's chin up and grinned at her, seeming quite amused himself, then looked to the tarp. "That what you're after?"
Elizabeth nodded then Jack heaved the cover away in one smooth motion and the pair looked upon a painting. A man with long, dark curling hair that fell beyond his shoulders was perched atop a chair, his boot resting on a chest teeming with treasure. Jack tilted his head to the side thoughtfully and Elizabeth did the same. She looked to Jack, squinting at him.
"Is it just me or," Jack started, to which Elizabeth interrupted.
"It's not just you."
The man in the painting was easily Teague's senior. She returned her gaze to the painting and stepped forward to brush her hand free of the roll against the golden frame. The eyes and smile were all Jack's—boyish and mischievous—or rather, Jack's eyes and smile were all his.
Elizabeth started, pulling in close to Jack's side at the sound of an intruder at the entrance of the Cove. Jack turned and armed himself with the flintlock from his waist, lowering the barrel from his eyeline once recognition washed over him. He stepped forward, his foot catching in the spot Elizabeth's did the first time and she wrapped her arms around Jack to steady him. The two laughed much too loud for a moment then rushed to school their expressions.
"Dad?" Jack frowned at their unexpected guest. "But what if we were," he trailed off the question, his mouth drawing into a frown.
"Then you could go find somewhere else to 'were,'" Teague replied dryly. He looked down to Elizabeth's hand and her mouth dropped open, floundering for a moment. Teague took the roll from her wordlessly and inhaled the last of the smoke, tossed it, then surpassed the both of them.
This wasn't exactly the state Elizabeth wanted to tell Teague in but in all her newlywed excitement, she couldn't contain the words.
"What opportune timing—Jack and I planned to sail to you tomorrow. We, well, we married," Elizabeth blurted out, leading Jack by the hand along with her to Teague who was more interested in rifling through a pile, tossing aside a chalice and charts. "Just yesterday."
Teague straightened and looked the pair over. "You?" He pointed at Elizabeth then to his son. "To him?" Teague raised his eyebrows and palmed at his chin. "Interesting."
"A congratulations would suffice, thanks," Jack said shortly, wrapping an arm around Elizabeth's shoulders. "I know manners are beyond you but the father doesn't exactly hang around for the honeymoon. So, if you'd be so kind to get the hell—"
"Jack." Elizabeth shot Jack a look before turning to Teague. "What brings you to the Cove?"
"Old habits and all that," he muttered. "No matter how much I try to shake it, I'm drawn back to watch over her."
Elizabeth felt for Teague, seemingly perpetually called to Shipwreck Cove, as if returning could ever right his troubled past. Jack left her side for a moment and returned holding the book bound in his mother's skin.
"Or maybe it's this that called you."
Jack tossed the book to Teague who caught it effortlessly in one hand. Teague turned the book over and looked at the inside page.
"What am I to do with a filled-in sea journal?"
"Not any sea journal." Jack shook his head and crossed his arms before his chest. "Esmeralda, she," he paused then rushed on, "well, after killing mother, she used her skin to bind that book. That's what's left of her. Only right you have it, considering…"
Teague narrowed his eyes. "Considering you traded her head?"
"Still on that," Jack huffed, exasperated. "But yes. The book. It's yours to keep."
Teague looked down at the gift fondly then, in a sentimental nature Elizabeth never saw from him, he pressed a kiss to the back of it. Jack's tongue fell from his mouth in an exaggerated look of disgust to which Elizabeth nudged him in the side.
Elizabeth wondered how Teague, in all his gravitas, managed to have such an eccentric son. Yet, at the same time, the two were alike in other ways. That was just the dynamic of parent and child. In terms of herself, Elizabeth looked every bit her mother's daughter and had nearly the same voice, although the words she used were entirely different. Her mother was a meek woman. Elizabeth thought on if her mother lived if she would behave any differently. But no, some matters of character are just innate. She was always intended to have a wild streak, Elizabeth was sure of that.
"Yes, could be this that called me," Teague agreed, tucking the book under his arm.
"The man in the painting," Elizabeth piped up, stepping forward and pointing behind Teague. "Is that your father?"
Teague glanced over his shoulder then back to his son and Elizabeth, unimpressed.
"That's him alright."
"Before you go, please tell us of him."
"Always hoping for a story, you are, Pirate King." Teague shook his head at Elizabeth and she only smiled in reply, sensing his unspoken fondness for her once again. "It's not a pretty one," he warned, turning a chair around from the long table to face them.
Jack stepped forward, following Elizabeth's lead with a roll of his eyes when she instantly folded her legs to sit before Teague like a child. She waited for Teague to start, moon-eyed, ignoring her husband's irritation at a waste of herb on story time with his estranged father.
"My father started the Brethren Court, the first-ever Pirate Lord—"
"No way," Elizabeth whispered, her voice far-off and dreamy like smoke on air.
"Way," Teague replied to the interruption flatly. "Rather proud of that fact too. He made it his mission to add a bit of order, create a web across seas to keep a closer eye on the most fearsome pirates. It's he who crafted the initial Code."
"Is that it? The original edition?" Elizabeth pointed to the lectern.
"No, that's one I scribed during my days as Keeper. The original is lost at sea, hurled overboard by the first Pirate Lord of France. It took a lot of convincing pirates on the Code, but my father, you can imagine, was a persuasive man. With the new Code set, agreed upon by all the Pirate Lords, there was a demand for more copies. It was a time-consuming act that had to be bestowed upon someone. So, they had the cabin boy do it."
"You? Were you the cabin boy?" Elizabeth chimed in, sounding every bit like a child.
"And a hypocrite," Jack interjected. "I'll still never forgive him for not letting me sail when he did so young."
"You know now that sailing with pirates is no place for a child."
Elizabeth opened her mouth, about to disagree, but swallowed down the reply and played with her hands in her lap instead. She wanted to retort that if both of the parents were pirates and with the child then it couldn't be such a terrible way of things, but she knew Jack would follow her idea and then she would never hear the end of it.
"Oh, please, do go on," she urged of Teague instead.
"Where was I? Yes, I made several copies of the Code. Even a miniature one which my father fashioned on his belt, wearing it as a talisman. Claimed it protected him. I imagine he was right, in the end, as after I traded that copy of the Code away in India, he died a moon cycle or so later," Teague paused, looking away from the pair, "by my hand."
Jack leaned up on his elbows from where he was laid back, closing his eyes and trying to block out his father's droning on. "You killed the man I would have called 'grandfather?'" He glared at Teague for a moment then looked thoughtful. "Then all is forgiven! You can't possibly stay cross with me for trading Mum's head now." Jack clasped his hands together, pleased with the negotiation.
"Your erstwhile woman killed your mother then you traded her away. For a dingy," Teague emphasized the last bit accusatorily although his voice remained low and level.
"Mother's head," Jack corrected, always one for details. "And that doesn't change the fact you killed my grandfather. Maybe someone would have cared for me," he finished with a jut of his chin forward, his words laced with judgement.
"Trust me, Jackie, rather unlikely."
"Teagues. Enough," Elizabeth interjected, laughing nervously when both men turned to her with narrowed eyes, Teague from a command from a woman and Jack at the shared surname. "Enough, please?"
"You killed your own father. What sense does that make?" Jack rose to his feet, diving right back into the argument.
"It was kill or be killed."
"Over a book?"
Elizabeth stood, taking one of Jack's hand in her own, trying to sooth his dramatics.
"Over his blessed talisman," Teague amended much like Jack did earlier, fishing his pipe and tobacco from his coat.
"What happened next?" Elizabeth prompted, hoping to divert from the squabbling.
"You know already, girl. Murder landed me the role of Keeper of the Code," he finished, smoking from his pipe.
"So if you would have worked out matters with your father," Jack began, his eyes meeting Teague's, "you would have been around?"
"Awful more complicated relationship than we make it out to be, that of father and son." Teague continued to smoke, looking especially not all there behind his eyes. After a beat, he his eyes fell upon Elizabeth. "When the time comes, make sure Jack makes square this generational curse, will you?"
"I learned the hard way pirates don't make the best fathers, thanks," Jack snapped, and Elizabeth jutted her elbow into his side once more. "No offense," he added, although he intended every bit of offense. "What I mean to say is, I won't ever have the pleasure of children," Jack continued, then paused, turning to face Elizabeth. "Right?"
Elizabeth decidedly did not mention Esmeralda's prophecy.
"So, this miniature Code," Elizabeth started instead, "do you reason it's still in India?"
"Probably. I traded it off to Sumbhajee. Had an ornate cover. He likes his fine and shinies." Teague looked to Elizabeth thoughtfully, reading her easily. "Where to next on the honeymoon travels, King?"
Elizabeth smiled softly at Teague. "India."
She managed to get a few more stories out of her newfound father and just before he was to leave, Elizabeth noticed that he and Jack were getting on well at the entrance of the Cove. Admittedly, they were passing a roll of herb between them but no matter, Elizabeth was relieved the two were not arguing.
Elizabeth approached the lectern and fanned her fingers out across the cover of the Code. She glanced up and could barely make out Jack and Teague's forms, so she reasoned they couldn't see hers either. She made quick about it, but gave the moment proper weight. She circled the lectern one, two, three times and paused before the Code after. Elizabeth smiled some, thinking what Jack didn't know wouldn't hurt him. She also thought the superstition that pacing three times around the lectern in hopes of improved fertility was just that, superstition. Even so, she wasn't sure why she felt such a giddiness about it.
Elizabeth returned to Jack's side and after sharing a few parting words they both waved Teague off. When he sailed nearly out of sight, Jack turned to give Elizabeth a knowing look.
"You're after this edition of the Code now, aren't you?" Jack asked, not waiting a moment to let her answer as he already knew it, but he narrowed his eyes, trying to understand. "Why?"
Elizabeth's mouth parted and she toyed with her hands behind her back. She couldn't rightfully tell Jack she placed an unspoken weight on this edition of the Code in her mind. She reasoned if she could just right the soul tie between Teague and his father then maybe all else would follow—Jack and Teague letting bygones be bygones as well and maybe then Jack would fancy the idea of having a child of his own to spoil and dote upon even more than he did her. How she ached to make him a father. He would make a lovely father, she thought.
"No, I," Elizabeth paused, wracking her mind for an alternative. "Holi," she blurted out.
"Holy…?" Jack trailed off, waiting for Elizabeth to continue then waived her own when she remained silent, still formulating the lie in her mind. "What? Out with it, Swann."
"Holi. It's a celebration of love. Only fitting for a honeymoon," she insisted. "We go to India for the celebration then wherever you would like after. Promise."
Jack leaned down, lifting the crown up from where it sat upon the lone sail to place it on Elizabeth's head. "King's orders. Can't rightly deny that."
Elizabeth leaned into a kiss at the agreement, smiling against Jack's lips and wrapping her arms around his neck. She drew a hand up to the back of her head to keep the crown from slipping when Jack deepened the kiss and she tasted the herb on his tongue. Elizabeth broke the kiss with a girlish laugh when in one smooth motion she was in his arms, her legs around Jack's waist.
Back on the sail, underneath the early evening sun pouring in from the skylight, Elizabeth thought the no matter where she traveled with Jack, she always seemed to end up in one place without fail: his lap. When one of Jack's hands skillfully found its way up her dress as her own formed fists in his hair, Elizabeth thought it wasn't too bad a place to end up at all.
.
Elizabeth kept a watchful eye on Jack in Sri Sumbhajee's hideaway, tugging him from marveling at sitars and fine jewelry so he wouldn't fall behind. Jack reached into a nearby chest, pulling out an azure sari which draped over the side. He held the fabric just under his eyes and raised his eyebrows suggestively at Elizabeth before gently wrapping it around her neck and urging her forward. However, she snatched the sash and cast it back into the chest, not playinh into the distraction. Elizabeth continued on, sighing when notes from a woodwind instrument started behind her. She turned and forced the bamboo flute from Jack's mouth then placed a finger to his lips.
"Do you never fear getting caught?" she hissed out in a whisper.
"To tell you the truth, love, it's kind of the best part," Jack admitted nonchalantly. "Makes you feel alive, reminded of what you could lose. The catch of breath in the back of your throat, your racing heart—"
"Dying from carelessness," Elizabeth finished, shooting Jack a look.
"That's the spirit."
Elizabeth rolled her eyes some, shaking her head.
"Don't worry a hair on your pretty little head, Swann. Matters just have a way of working out for me and I just have a way of working out matters if they're pesky enough to slight me. You know that," Jack said, tossing the flute between his hands.
"Yes, that's why I keep you around," Elizabeth replied shortly. Jack was about to counter her, affronted, when Elizbeth held out her arm, stilling him at the sudden sight of two guards.
Jack wrapped an arm around Elizabeth and drew her in close to his side before muttering broken Hindi. One guard answered in a low, menacing voice.
"What is it?" Elizabeth murmured after some time of Jack going back and forth with one guard.
"Sumbhajee made trade with Jocard years ago. The Code isn't here. It's in the Motherland," Jack spoke out of the side of his mouth.
"Then we ought to go to Africa," she replied simply.
"Only one problem—They're not too fond of us meddling around in their Captain's belongings."
Elizabeth looked up to Jack in a rush, her hands finding his chest. "Then we ought to run."
"Right behind you, Swann."
Elizabeth's feet ran faster than she anticipated back down the path from which they came, one foot nearly rising before the other one fell, not by chance but by practice. On days when she awoke on land instead of sea, she would rise early and start flying soon after, making time to increase her stamina and health. Jack on the other hand—
Elizabeth peered over her shoulder, rolling her eyes are her husband's unbalanced run, flailing after her, nothing more than a bit of luck and his good-fortuned name keeping him out of the other pirates' reach. Elizabeth slowed her pace some so Jack could feel good about himself for catching up, too prideful to use his ring to close the gap between them.
"Almost lost my hat," he explained, gesturing to the tricorn hat in his hand.
"I see," Elizabeth replied breathlessly, taking Jack by the hand before quickening their pace.
Elizabeth made to dart through an alley but one of Sumbhajee's men revealed himself from the darkness. She rerouted them through the market where the Holi celebration was in full swing. Elizabeth started when orange spices hitting the side of her face and she looked over her shoulder, laughing when she caught sight of purple dusting across Jack's face. He sputtered and then, catching Elizabeth laughing, pulled a face until she was hit with cyan. He pointed and laughed for a moment until he was also struck with orange, right in an eye.
Spotted with color, Jack and Elizabeth ran past a group of women, all outstretching arms and sultry dancing. Elizabeth scoffed when Jack took his time passing them, seemingly getting along well with one who reached forward to toy at his beard. Elizabeth took Jack by the arm and gave him a look and he offered an apologetic glace in reply. The two managed an escape, tucking away on the top level of a seemingly abandoned tower.
They looked at each other, gathering themselves after one of their closest calls in a while, and the world felt still in that moment, and there was no present sound save for their labored breathing. Jack pulled Elizabeth forward by the chin for a fervent kiss and she smiled against his lips. When they broke the kiss, Elizabeth's eyes fell to Jack's mouth, colored with purple and her smears of orange and blue, and she couldn't helpless but kiss him once more, wanting and open. Elizabeth leaned forward to kneel between his legs then drew her arms around his neck.
"We caught the tail end of the festival at least."
"Yes," Elizabeth agreed, breathless and flushed for an entirely different reason now. "To think, it all started from legend of a demon king who yearned for immortality."
"Sounds familiar," Jack said with a smile.
"You're hardly a King," Elizabeth teased. "Not nearly dignified enough with that run."
"Is this what happens when you marry?" Jack asked, looking to Elizabeth with a feigned, exaggerated sadness. "You live out the rest of your days a woman's joke? Only need me for your amusement now, that it, Swann?"
"Not only. I also need you for help charting the seas." Jack wore yet another offended look at which Elizabeth continued. "Oh, don't look so put off. I keep you around for other needs," Elizabeth said, drawing her voice into a murmur and reaching for Jack's belt. Jack hummed, leaning forward until Elizabeth leaned away in the same that moment, showing Jack's pistol now in her hands. "In case I need a good shot."
Jack pulled another face at Elizabeth and took the gun back, turning it over in his hands. "You managed quite the good shot back at the Cove with Esmeralda. Guess it's time you be rid of me, woman."
"Oh, I could never be rid of you, man," Elizabeth sighed, kissing Jack on the cheek and removing the weapon from his lap to crawl into it instead. "Ever since you saved me from that fall all that time ago."
"Had I known it would come to this, I would have left you in the water," Jack muttered. Elizabeth hit Jack's chest, biting at her lower lip, trying to fight off a smile. Her nose wrinkled at the taste, forgetting the spices and power on her face. "What, you're the only one who can tease now?"
"My teasing is not nearly so cruel."
"I'll show you cruel."
Elizabeth screamed when Jack picked her up in his arms and she found herself slung over his shoulder.
"Put me down!" Elizabeth insisted through a high laugh.
"I take back what I said. Now you take back what you said. You need me, Lizzie. Say it."
"No."
Jack tossed Elizabeth up over both of his shoulders and she huffed at being handled so roughly.
"Looks like I have a thief to turn into Sri Sumbhajee," Jack drew out the name in a taunting manner.
"And turn yourself in as well?"
"I can own up to my wrongdoings," Jack countered, contrasting himself to her. Elizabeth rolled her eyes at the entirely untrue statement.
"Alright, fine. I need you. I need you, Jack Sparrow. I need your stupid yelp when you're in trouble, I need your arms around me when the weight of the world feels too much to bear alone, I need your singing on the sea air and your hands threaded through my hair before I fall sleep."
Jack lowered Elizabeth to her feet and she looked up at him, feeling vulnerable.
"I do not 'yelp,'" Jack said defensively and at Elizabeth's raised eyebrows simply prompted, "Go on."
"I need your out of nowhere sword fights to test my strength and your little jokes to test my wit. I need you handing me a bottle of wine when I've sat quiet too long on the ship on a particularly dark night, and I need, well," Elizabeth paused, her face growing hot, "other things."
"Let's hear it," Jack coaxed, his dark eyes unwavering. "What do you need?"
"I need your mouth," she admitted, softer, as Jack pulled her forward by the waist.
"Where?"
"Everywhere. But against mine to start."
Jack kissed the corner of her mouth.
"Go on."
Elizabeth looked away until Jack tilted her head up by the chin, kissing her tenderly.
"I said, go on, Swann," he reiterated, and something in his voice both urged her on and made her flush all the more noticeable.
"I need your mouth between my legs," she whispered, her voice an exhale when Jack started kissing her neck. "I need your tongue inside me until I can't be bothered to think of anything save for my want for you."
Elizabeth gasped when Jack stepped backwards to sit in the chair in the corner, pulling her on top of him.
"Jack, we can't possibly do this here," she said in a rush, tilting her face away and raising her shoulders high to try to stop Jack from kissing at her neck.
"You said this was the festival of love—We're rightfully marked by her colors. What kind of people would we be to deny her, to not make it?"
"Reasonable people," Elizabeth countered.
"You know just as well as me, reason doesn't mix with love," he murmured, allowing for a weighted pause as he brushed his thumb over her lip, "Misses Sparrow."
Elizabeth met Jack's eyes at the title. He seemed to reserve sharing his surname for when he wanted something or right before she was about to come, and this was one of those moments that could fall somewhere between the two if she relented against her better judgement.
Their lips met messily and Elizabeth tasted turmeric and some kind of plant, but she didn't care, because she was with Jack, sharing his impossible world, and she loved every moment of it, and she loved him every moment of it, and it was all more than she could ever ask.
Just as they moved to the floor, all rushed hands and whispered declarations, a sparrow flew onto the windowsill. Even if Elizabeth noticed the bird, she probably wouldn't think much of it, unaware of the old wives' tale that a bird in the window is a sign a blessing is on the way, the most common one being a child.