Disclaimer: This is the song that never ends, I own no pirates in the Caribbean . . .
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Last Time:
As Winn sat and drew, Jack stood outside the walls to the Governor's residence and watched Winn. The knowledge of which room was hers would come in handy tomorrow during the wedding. If Winnie thinks that no one can tell what she's wearing, or rather, what she's not, then she's sadly mistaken. While Jack wasn't necessarily complaining (he was rather enjoying the view), he did wonder if the girl had as much sense as he had accredited to her. Most ladies wouldn't be caught dead in their encumbering nightgowns and voluminous robes – this one sat in plain sight wearing next to nothing.
Shaking his head, Jack settled in to wait until the lights had gone off in Winn's room. Once they had, and Winn was presumably out of trouble and safely in bed, Jack headed down to the waterfront for a large mug of ale and some sleep.
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The day of the wedding dawned bright and early, as dawns are apt to do. For Winn, who needed to roll out of bed as soon as the first pink tinge of morning crept into the sky, it was torture. Her eyes burned from a lack of sleep, seeing as how she had gotten perhaps four hours of it at the most. And those four hours had been anything but restful. Indeed, restless would be a better way to describe them; her dreams had been full lurking threats.
She was trying to find someone, but she didn't know who, and they always seemed out reach. It had driven her crazy, not knowing who she was looking for, and she just knew that if she could only catch a glimpse of them, everything would be solved – the sense of impending doom would vanish. Needless to say, she had found nothing and no one.
To her not so great surprise, none of those feelings disappeared with the coming of the sun. Looking out her window midway though her morning routine, she saw that the sky was more red than pink. Red sky in morning, sailors take warning. Dressing in a simple dove grey cotton dress, and leaving her hair in its nightly braid, Winn went downstairs in search of breakfast, Pige following close behind.
Pouring herself a cup of coffee (to which she added a great quantity of cream and sugar), Winn sat down at the breakfast table, her head in her hands. Giving a great sigh, she took a sip of her caffeinated drink, and made a face.
"I thought you didn't like coffee." Elizabeth had come into the room unnoticed. She seated herself across the table from Winn.
"I don't, however without the caffeine in it, I'll never make it through today. Unlike some people I don't have a store of nervous energy to keep me going." Winn took another sip of coffee.
"Winn, the sky, do you think . . ." Elizabeth trailed off.
Seeing that her friend had a good start on working herself into a nervous breakdown before the two o'clock ceremony, Winn did her best to allay any fears. "Relax. I doubt that we'll have any rain before four. It might get a little windy, but who's not used to that? By the time it starts to rain, the ceremony will be over and we'll be inside for the reception dinner." Elizabeth reached across the table to give Winn's hand a squeeze of gratitude.
"You look awful. Did you sleep well?" Now that one concern had been laid aside, Elizabeth started to worry for her friend.
"Well enough not to fall flat on my face from exhaustion during this endurance test that you and Will and the rest of polite society have the nerve to call a 'joyous occasion'. Why couldn't you get married in a pirate ceremony? A few words from a captain, everyone gets drunk, then everyone leaves. None of this standing around for hours on end making senseless small talk with people you can't stand but pretend to like. And the only dancing involved are drunken jigs. It would have made things ever so much easier on your poor old friend."
"Well, we did consider it. There was just the whole fact that it's not at all legal, Father would have never approved. . ."
"You're no fun."
"And you're complaining just to hear yourself talk. Let's go start getting ready." Elizabeth pulled Winn up from her chair. "They've warmed water for our baths, and the dress you chose is being ironed as we speak."
Grabbing an apple and an orange as she was marched out of the room, Winn muttered, "Weddings. I just love weddings. I think I need a drink." For some unexplainable reason, this made Elizabeth laugh. "Just you wait, Elizabeth Swann! I'll pay you back for this some day!"
"You'd have to get married first, and you've already sworn that you're never going to do so. Or have you changed your mind?"
Muttering things about people with long memories, Winn allowed herself to be led to her room.
Three hours later, Winn managed to escape. Hemmed in by petticoats, shifts, and a corset that was far tighter than she preferred, she ran downstairs. The laughter of the two maids who had been assigned to help her get ready for the wedding followed her. Reaching the library, she slammed the door behind her, and then spent several moments leaning against it, panting heavily. Who dresses in something so tight that they're in danger of passing out? Why am I dressed in such a thing? It's not as if I need it to enhance my figure or to tame any curves. This is ridiculous.
Once she no longer felt as if she were going to pass out, Winn started looking for a decent book to read. Grabbing a copy of the "Arabian Nights" from a shelf, she nestled herself into an overstuffed chair. Opening the cover of the book, she rapidly lost herself in a world of dijinns, roks, magicians, beautiful maidens, and brave young men.
And hour passed before anyone dared interrupt her. "Mister Turner, it's not decent. No, you shouldn't –" Will closed the door behind him. Looking around the enormous second floor room, he spotted Winn. So deeply sunk into her book was she, that she hadn't noticed his entrance. Walking across the room to where she sat, Will said, "Playing truant are we? The maids are aflutter and are positively convinced that the world will end posthaste if you do not go back upstairs and finish getting ready."
Without looking up from her book, Winn drawled, "Then let the world end. I refuse to be seen in public in the fashion they insist on forcing upon me. There was talk of powdering my hair, Will, and of applying face paints. I will not have it."
"You're not making things any easier on Elizabeth you know." At that, Winn did look up.
"That was entirely unfair."
"Yes, well. The sanity of my future bride is at stake, did you actually expect me to let you hide in here for the rest of the day?"
"Yes. It's not as if anyone would actually know I wasn't there. Or care that I wasn't."
"Elizabeth and I would."
"Ooh. . . ." Winn glared at the man in front of her. "Fine. But you owe me for this William Turner. However, if you think I'm coming down here covered in powder and paint, let me set you straight right here and right now. No such thing will be happening as long as I still draw breath, as difficult as that might be at the moment. Have I made myself clear?" Getting up awkwardly, Winn started towards the door, Will following behind.
"I'd never expect such a thing out of you. I do have some sense."
"Hmph."
The next time that anyone saw Winn, she was completely and fully dressed in a fashion that befitted her station as the bride's best friend. Her glasses were nowhere to be found, Will having confiscated them before going to dig her out of the library. Her hair was fixed in a complicated knot on the top of her head, with a few stray ringlets framing her face, after they had been ironed and starched into fashionable compliance. A touch of kohl had been applied to her eyes (over the strenuous and thunderous objections of the woman whose face they were in), and it made Winn's eyes seem as deep and mysterious as her glasses had made them seem dull.
But it was the dress that caught people's eyes. Bronze in color, it emphasized the green in her eyes, and the rich silk it was made of shimmered inconspicuously under the lights. Froths of blond lace spilled from bodice and cuffs. Black pearl earbobs could be seen at her lobes, and a diminutive charm of sapphires and seed pearls hung on delicate gold chain around her neck.
Self-consciously, Winn made her way down the stair case with a mere twenty minutes to spare before the guests started to arrive. Having made her way successfully down almost three flights of stairs in her heeled slippers, Winn tripped on the last one. Before she could fall flat on her face, she was caught. Looking up at her rescuer, a nearby footman, Winn gave her thanks.
Removing herself from the scene of her narrowly avoided humiliation, Winn walked into the parlor where Will was waiting for her. Heading directly towards the brandy decanter, Winn heard Will choke on his own drink. Smiling humorously as she deftly poured a drink, Winn said, "If you think I look good, just wait until you see Elizabeth, who just happens to send her love."
The sun had long since set before Winn made it up to her room. As she had predicted, rain had set in not long after four, so no one had actually seen the sun set, so perhaps it was better to say that it was nearly ten o'clock at night before Winn escaped the lilting strains of music that could be heard in the ballroom. It drifted on transparent flesh to invade every part of the house, but was nearly inaudible when Winn closed and locked the door.
The ceremony had lasted nearly two hours. If that wasn't bad enough, she had then been made to stand in the reception line with the new Turners and Governor Swann. It had taken a little over an hour to greet all the guests, Winn silently brooding on the fact that her presence was unnecessary the entire time. After that had been the ten course wedding supper, another two hours spent in agonizingly boring and intrusive company. But she had absolutely drawn the line at dancing. She was not about to let strange men touch her.
Resisting the urge to throw up immediately, Winn threw herself onto her bed. Not only had she had to deal with strangers, this time without support from her friends, but she'd had to endure the attentions of every young male gathered for what was being proclaimed the social wedding of the season, despite the fact that the groom was a blacksmith. As the night had worn on and the drinks had started to add up, their attentions had grown harder and harder to avoid. When the last one had tried to openly grope her on the terrace (she had been dying for fresh air), Winn had called it a night and gone up to her room using the servant's stairs.
Taking deep breaths to calm her stomach, Winn felt Pigeon nosing around at her side. The poor animal had been locked in Winn's room for the duration of the wedding and its festivities. Clearly she had missed her. Rolling onto her side to better pet the pup, Winn felt something hard dig into her ribs. Looking down in surprise, she found a recorder sitting on her bed – her recorder. The one she had left on the Pearl. Looking up she saw a sword resting against the window embrasure, and her sketch book lying open next to it.
Slowly, hesitantly, she got up. Please tell me this isn't happening. Tell me he isn't here. It was dark in her room, the only light coming from a single lamp burning on a nearby table. The rest of the room was cloaked in shadows and gloom. Walking to the table, she picked the lamp up and went to investigate the objects by the window.
It was indeed her sword, the one that had been left on the Black Pearl, in the doubtful care of Captain Sparrow. But what she saw next made her stomach lurch alarmingly – her sketch book was opened to the last page. The page where she had drawn his eyes. Turning the page, trying to hide what she had drawn, Winn discovered that a picture had been added to her book.
It was her, but not drawn in her style. Her pictures were full of detail and shadow and shape. This was a collection of fluid, graceful lines which ran together, creating the illusion that the entire portrait was formed out of moonbeams and mist.
But no matter how different the style was, the scene was easy to recognize. It was her, standing in the garden, watching a couple take their vows as man and wife. The perspective was that of someone standing in her window and looking down into the garden. Sticking her head out the open window, Winn promptly threw up.
When she had emptied her stomach of the little she had eaten that day. Winn closed her window, making sure to throw the catch, and then moved to her bedside where there was a carafe of water. Not bothering to pour it into the glass, Winn drank straight from the container. Spitting the water into her chamber pot, Winn kneeled on the floor, unable to face standing up.
That man. How dare he come here? Hasn't he done enough already? Exhausted, sick with nervous energy, and drained from the trials of the day, Winn couldn't even work up the energy to be mad. Instead she found herself near tears, which were things she hadn't shed in over a decade. Why? Why come after me? Why do this?
Feeling dizzy and overwhelmed, Winn slowly gathered her strength to stand up. She couldn't think about this now, not when she felt so defeated. Gaining her feet, she leaned against the wall before trying to walk to her bed. To her great surprise, the wall she leaned on reached out to grab her. "What's the matter, luv? Did you have too much to drink or are you simply happy to see me?" Left with no other recourse, Winn ripped herself free and promptly threw up again, fortunately (or perhaps unfortunately) reaching the chamber pot before she made a mess.
It had been fairly easy to break into Winn's room, despite its being on the third floor of the Governor's residence. A trellis of bougainvillea gave him something to climb, and Winn being the person she was, had left her window wide open. The difficult part had been avoiding the notice of the many servants who came sweeping in and out of the garden with numerous flower arrangements, chairs, and who knows what else.
Once the ceremony actually started, Jack had watched with curiosity and amusement at the follies of respectable citizens such as Will and Elizabeth. Quickly growing bored as the minister droned on and on about the "sacredness of the marriage sacrament" and responsibility and so forth, Jack had prowled around Winn's room.
He had quickly found her notebook of sketches, and deciding that leaving his own inside the book would be the perfect crowning achievement to his revenge, he had settled low in the window seat and commenced a sketch of the woman who had so publicly beaten him.
However, before he could start, a sketch had caught his eye. Was that there the last time I looked through this? Deciding that is hadn't, Jack turned back to the page. He was surprised to find himself looking at his own portrait. Winnie, I didn't know you cared.
Jack had not planned on being caught by Winn as he left his revenge in her room. He had planned to leave some items, and perhaps a note, behind to let her know that he did not appreciate being outmaneuvered. Then he was going to leave, put her out of his mind forever, and go on with his life.
When Winn had come in so early in the evening, he had hidden in the shadow of the bed curtains, hoping that she had just come up to grab a fan or something. When she threw herself on the bed, he had started planning what he would do if he were caught, and when she had thrown up for the first time, he had tried to get out the door. She had turned from the window before he could get there, but luckily she was in no state of mind to pay attention to her immediate surroundings, so he thought he might still have a chance to escape. When she had leaned against him, he chosen the only option left open to him – action.
Grabbing her, he had asked, "What's the matter, luv? Did you have too much to drink, or are you simply happy to see me?" Expecting some sort of comeback, Jack was surprised when Winn ripped herself free to throw up once again. Her dry heaves were painful to listen to. If you can't handle it, don't drink it.
There were two parts of Jack, warring against each other. One part told him to leave while he still could. This bout of nausea was unlikely to improve Winn's temper. The second part, the part of him that still hung on to his few morals concerning women, told him to get the girl into bed before he left. Caught up in his internal debate, still standing halfway between the bed and the door, Jack was taken by surprise when Winn spoke.
"Not enough . . ." she mumbled, head resting on a forearm.
"What?" Jack was lost.
"You asked if I'd had too much to drink," Winn reminded him in a voice that was rough and low. Jack had to strain to hear it. Winn started to stand, refusing to appear any weaker than she already did before her nemesis. The effort clearly cost her much of whatever energy she had left; she had to brace herself against the wall to gain her feet. The color drained from her face; in the lamplight Jack thought she looked incredibly fragile, like a stranger.
Once upright, she removed her hand from the wall, swaying a little to regain her balance in her unsteady footwear. "As much as I would like to trade barbs with you at the moment, I find that going to bed holds greater attraction for me." Walking past Jack, Winn made her way to her bed. Sitting on the edge, she started to remove her shoes.
"Why didn't you say so earlier, Winnie? I would have been glad to oblige you." Trying to make this situation seem more normal, Jack reached for the buckle to the belt that held his pistol and dagger.
Glancing up, Winn looked him in the eye, her own eyes gaining back a little life as she caught the meaning of his comment. "I didn't mention it because I have no desire to die of laughter. Is there a reason that you're still here?" Having removed her shoes, Winn stood back up, a bit more steadily, her tempter slowly coming to life.
"This is the thanks I get for risking life and limb to return your effects to you, luv?"
Walking to the vanity that was placed near the wardrobe, Winn said, "I see but two things I own have been returned to me, Captain Sparrow, things that are easily replaceable. If that's the limit of your charity I would prefer that you keep my things and conveniently remain a part of my preferably distant past." Taking off the black pearl earrings and the necklace she was wearing, Winn placed them in the jewelry box on the vanity's surface.
Reaching in back of her, Winn started to undo the laces of her dress. "Blasted corset," she muttered. "Whatever man invented this devilish device ought to be sentenced to an eternity of wearing one." Getting the laces of the dress undone, she shrugged out of it. Leaving it laying on the floor around her feet, she started on the laces to her corset, desperate to get the thing off.
Jack watched this whole procedure with a mixture of surprise and amusement. Did the silly chit actually think that he would stand by like a gentleman as she undressed in front of him? Clearly he had been too easy on her. "Luv, what do you think you're doing?" Winn met Jack's eyes in the mirror.
"Are you really so dimwitted as to not be able to figure that out, Captain?"
"Oh, let me assure you that I know exactly what it is that you are doing. I'm more curious as to why you're doing it while I'm standing right here, unless you're trying to convince me that despite your protests, you want us to do it, in which case I would be more than happy to assist you."
Whirling around, her anger and weariness showing, Winn snapped. "I've told you once before that trying to convince me that you find me attractive would get you nowhere, Captain. That is still true. You're wasting your breath if you think that such idiotic innuendos will intimidate me. I don't know why you're still here, but I don't particularly care either."
"Why do you keep insisting that you're unattractive, Winnie?" Jack started to walk closer, this chance to finally best her too good to pass up.
"Because I happen to see myself in mirrors, Captain Sparrow. And furthermore –" a knock on the door interrupted her.
"Winn? It's Cat. Are you all right? Is there someone in there with you?"
I will not be caught with this man in my room. Glaring at Jack, a warning to keep his mouth shut or risk terrible retribution in her eyes, Winn replied, "Cat, I'm fine, just talking to myself. I didn't sleep well last night. I found myself desiring some time alone, so I left. You know that dancing has never been a favorite pastime of mine." Jack kept advancing on Winn.
"Do you want me to come in and help you undress?"
"No, Cat. I more help than I need at the moment." There was silence from the other side of the door. Cursing her slip, Winn continued, "I can't get this dog to leave me alone. She insists that I pay attention to her just now. Unfortunately for her, she's out of luck. I just want to get some sleep." Glaring at Jack, she hissed, "Will you stop it?" Jack just laughed softly.
"If you're sure you're alright . . ." Cat was reluctant to leave, no matter what Winn said. It didn't sound as if she were alone, or talking to her pet. Besides, Cat could see shadows moving through the crack between the wood of the door and that of the floor.
"Yes, Cat. Thank you for your concern. Tell Ry good-night for me." Tired of Jack's prowling advance, Winn pulled out her knife and set in plain sight, a silent warning that she was losing her patience. Jack stopped.
Waiting until she heard Cat's retreating footsteps, Winn rounded on Jack. "Just what do you think it is that you're doing? Haven't you had enough? I bested you, you bested me – we're square. Now if you would kindly jump out my window and leave?" Determined to ignore Jack come hell or high water, Winn returned to shedding garments.
Getting the corset off, she started peeling off the layers of petticoats into which she had been forced. Getting all six off, she sighed in contentment. She would soon be able to go to bed. All that remained was to pull the hairpins out of her fancy upsweep.
Halfway through this task, Winn jumped. Jack had placed his hands on her shoulders. For so annoying a man they felt incredibly warm, soothing and irritating at the same time. Trying ineffectively to shrug them off, Winn went still as Jack leaned down and whispered in her ear, "If you really saw yourself in this mirror, you'd know that you should have kept yourself dressed, Winnie."
Winn was at a loss. No one had ever attempted whatever it was that Jack was attempting. She didn't know how to deal with this situation, had no idea what to say to make him back off. She tried to turn, to escape, to fight, anything, but his hands weighted her down. "Stop it."
"No, I think we need to settle once and for all whether or not men find you attractive, luv."
"I disagree, Captain Sparrow. I think that you need to let me go, and then remove yourself from this room so that I can –" Jack's head drifter lower, his eyes fixed on hers in the mirror.
"No, this is a theory that definitely needs to be tested." Jack turned her around so that she was facing him.
"I've managed to live twenty-six years without gathering any evidence such as that which you're suggesting, and I could most likely live for another twent–"
Interrupting her mid-sentence, Jack murmured, "You'd be a lot more attractive if you could keep your mouth shut."
"How dare y–" Jack's lips stilled her own, silencing her protest in a wave of shock and astonishment. She stood rigidly still, her arms held away from her body as if she were trying to decide whether she wanted to clobber him or embrace him.
When Jack noticed that he was still undamaged for the liberties he had so far taken, he pulled away slightly. "What's the matter, Winnie?" he asked against her lips. "Cat got your tongue?" Returning to kiss her, Jack thought, Just a little bit longer, and then–
He never finished the thought. Clearly Winn had not quite thrown the lock when she had entered her room, for both of her brothers burst into the room. They moved swiftly towards the surprised couple. Before they could catch hold of him, Jack whispered to Winn, "Looks as if you were correct, luv. Had you been truly attractive, I doubt these two fine gentlemen could have diverted my focus from your petite self."
Acting before her brothers had the chance to restrain her, Winn, with all the strength, confusion, and anger in her 5'4" body, struck Jack in the eye, knocking him back. Right into the waiting embrace of her brothers.
Afraid her brothers would try to avenge their little sister (nothing personal, just the way of the world), Winn stopped them cold. "You touch a single hair on his head and I'll come after you next." They looked at her in surprise. Waves of fury radiated from her, her eyes blazed with it. With her hair half tumbling around her shoulders she looked like some kind of warrior goddess come back to punish those who crossed her. "This is between the Captain and me, and I forbid you to enter into it."
Her brothers looked at each other. Neither one wanting to break the news to her. "You're the oldest, you do it," Marcus whispered to his brother.
"Yes, but if you die, the Navy will look after your family." Ry whispered back. With a silent prayer for his protection, Ry stepped over the still prone body of Jack Sparrow. "Winn, about that. Umm . . ."
"Spit it out, would you? I have had enough to deal with today and would like to go to bed. With any luck this will turn out to be a nightmare that I can forget about on the morrow." Winn was struggling not to raise her voice. The last thing she needed was an audience to witness all this.
"Yes, well, it appears as if your Captain Sparrow has caught Grandfather's attention. I got a letter from him today from the crew of the Heron telling me that I should bring Sparrow to him as soon as could be arranged. Apparently, Grandfather wants some answers as to why one of his ships came into port without any sails."
"You're telling me that we're to transport that man to Grandfather's island."
"Yes, but there's more. . . ." Winn simply glowered. "We're to bring him as a guest."