Kin

Part Two: In Which Pillowfights are Interrupted by Governor's Daughters

by : epiphanies







Elizabeth woke up in the morning with a groggy sigh. She'd never slept on so lumpy a bed, even on the Black Pearl (for the Black Pearl actually had lovely mattresses, lined with velvet drapes...or perhaps that was only for her. She didn't quite know.) She stretched and dressed, and once she'd walked into the hallway, she knocked on the door that Jack and Will had been sharing.

Only hearing a strangled grunt, she opened the unlocked door and stared at the two in awe.

There were feathers positively everywhere, and a bottle of rum spilled on the floor next to her feet. She shook her head in incredulity.

"I cannot believe that you two fought with pillows over a bottle of rum."

"Actually," Jack raised his index finger in feeble defence, "We fought over the pillows -with- a bottle of rum, but then the rum was in danger of spilling, so we put it over there so it wouldn't-"

Jack stopped dead, then his eyes widened as he dropped the bedraggled pillow and rushed to the bottle, trying to salvage the last drops that hadn't seeped into the wood floor. Elizabeth rolled her eyes and turned around, "I'm going to check on your sister, Will."

"Half sister!" called Jack. She ignored him.

She reached the room at the end of the hall, and knocked lightly.

"Yes?" said a weak voice from within.

"It's Elizabeth," she called, "May I come in?"

"Of course," the voice behind the door responded, sounding relieved.

Elizabeth entered and contained a small gasp.

"You're so pale!"

Desdemona shrugged, and Elizabeth noticed the blackened spots below her eyes, "I'm often ill. It's not such a fuss for me, I can take care of myself."

"Oh, don't be silly," Elizabeth hiked up her skirts slightly and moved closer to the bed, "You shouldn't be up today. I'll make the boys do your job, and I'll take care of you."

"That won't bode well," Desdemona tried to smile, but ended up grimacing in a sort of pain. Elizabeth felt a pang of pity and affection for her soon-to-be-husband's sister.

Half sister, a voice that sounded annoyingly like Jack scolded in her head.

"It need not bode well with them if it bodes well with me." Elizabeth smiled mischievously, "Would you like some breakfast?"

Desdemona sighed, "I suppose that would be nice, yes. As long as I can keep it, if you understand."

Elizabeth nodded sympathetically, "I'll fetch a basin as well."





Jack was mourning for his bottle of rum, Will trying to re-stuff the pillows with distinct red patches on his pale cheeks, when Elizabeth re-entered their room.

"You don't suppose they give free spirits to their patrons, ay?" Jack stood up hopefully, and Elizabeth rolled her eyes, "I would say not."

Jack pouted.

"But," she started, beaming, "I suppose they wouldn't mind paying you in rum if you worked all day as Desdemona does."

Jack narrowed his eyes at her, "What means you by that?"

Will looked concerned, "Is she alright? Does she need medicine?"

"She needs breakfast, and she needs rest. As the two of you have probably never looked after somebody ailing in your lifespans put together, I'll stay with her, and you two can carry her trays for today."

"We get breaks, right?" Jack called after she shut the door, and Will grimaced.

"It's for the greater good, Jack." he said resignedly, and Jack pursed his lips.

"Precisely what I'm worried about, son."





Elizabeth used the tavern kitchen to prepare eggs for Desdemona, and brought them up with a glass of coconut milk.

"I do appreciate this, Elizabeth," Desdemona smiled at her, and Elizabeth smiled back. She could see Will's eyes, and his chin, and, at a certain angle, his cheekbones.

"I don't mind at all. After all, you need to get better so that Will can get to know you properly."

Desdemona smiled wistfully, "I'm so glad for him. He seems like such a nice... what does he do, in any case? What do you do? Did you meet each other serving, or through Jack?"

Elizabeth blushed, "I met him in the crossing from England when we were nine years old, actually. My father gave him as a servant to a local blacksmith and he grew up with the trade in Port Royal."

"Your father gave him as a servant? How could one..."

Elizabeth's blush deepened, "My father is the Governor of Port Royal."

Desdemona's eyes widened, "Wow. Will, lucky sod! You fell for Will, my poor brother? A blacksmith, son of a pirate?"

"I didn't know everything for a very long time," she admitted, "but neither did he. He learned of his father mostly from Jack. He didn't know that his father had been a pirate."

"He never met him," Desdemona said softly, "Oh, he never met him. Poor Will."

"Was he a nice man?" Elizabeth had a sudden urge to know everything about Will, about his father, his sister, his background. She wanted to know things that Will himself did not, and she felt guilty for a moment.

"He was..." trailed Desdemona, a wistful look enveloping her features once again, "He was wonderful. He was handsome and talented with his hands, as I suspect Will took from him, being a blacksmith. He was kind. He left me with the Tortugan medic only so that he could go on a search for cures, for treasure for cures, for my illness."

"What is your illness, exactly? If you don't mind my asking," Elizabeth said hurriedly, twisting her fingers together gingerly. Desdemona saw this and reached over with frail fingers to stop her.

"I do not mind at all. It's not one illness I have, but little capacity to send off any. I have nearly no immunity to illness. I suppose I was just born this way."

"You're very lucky that you've not been sicker, I suppose," Elizabeth thought out loud, "Though the Caribbean is probably one of the best places for the ill to reside, I suspect."

"Aye," Desdemona agreed, "I would not have lasted half this long in London. But you wanted to know about my father. I shall tell you a story of when I last saw him..."











William Turner knocked promptly on the wooden door of a small house he'd known for years, trusted for years to hold his greatest of great treasures. His daughter.

The golden skinned medic opened the door and smiled, not saying a word. She merely pointed down a very short hallway to a bedroom with the door cracked open.

He entered, and smiled.

His daughter slept peacefully, her window open and bed facing it, he supposed to watch the ocean and feel the spray of the sea (which he knew she only imagined, for they were far too away from the shore to feel anything of the sort.)

He wondered of her health. Her skin was pale, and breathing ragged. But she breathed, and that was what mattered most.

He sat down next to her bed and put his rough hand over hers.

"Shiver me timbers and deck me halls, through prison gates and waterfalls, a pirate's gold and silver too, has given up all it's shine to you," he whispered, watching the sun set in a plumed horizon that reminded him of his Captain's outrageously outlandish hat. He smiled. She would have been so happy to see Jack today, but Jack had promised that he would see her before they left Tortuga again.

William understood Jack not coming. Jack had a date with a rum tankard that had laid empty for the fortnight in which they had sailed from their previous destination to Tortuga, and William was happy that Jack had declined his invite to his first visit to his daughter for three seasons. Jack was a terrible grump when sober, anyway.

"Father?"

She'd awoken in his serene moment of mixed up thoughts, and he jolted to life.

"Desdemona," he cocked his head and grinned, "You look lovelier than you did the last time I was here, aye."

She giggled weakly, and squeezed his hand, "I'm feeling ever so much better, Father."

And he knew she was lying, but he was lying when he'd said she looked lovelier. So, in both their eyes, they were square.

"Is Captain Jack here?" Desdemona yawned, and her face fell when her father told her no.

"But," he raised a promising index finger, "He told me that he would visit you at least thrice before we leave the island again."

"You haven't found anything yet, have you?" she asked gently, staring out at the sea, where she thought she could see the outline of a grand ship, but she was probably just dreaming it.

He sighed, "Not yet, poppet. But I think we be getting close."

"Good," she nestled herself into her pillow, closing her eyes, still holding his hand, "Stay with me until I wake, father?"

When she woke, hours later, she found her father asleep on the chair beside her, and a form she recognized lounging at the doorway, watching them with wistful and haggard eyes.

"Jack!" she whispered excitedly, and Jack stepped forward and petted the young girl's head.

"How be me little piratess?" Jack leaned on the foot of her bed, and she beamed at him, "I'm well, Jack, much better now that you and Father are here."

Jack nodded, and pulled something from his sleeve.

"I brought something for you this time, crumpet."

He handed it to her and she looked at it, entranced.

"It's a diamond!" she decided, and he snorted.

"No, darling, tisn't a diamond, but sure is pretty as one, aye?"

"Aye," she agreed, and he winked at her, "It's really from your father, but he was afraid to give it."

She knew he was lying too. It's what pirates did. But she smiled nonetheless, and fell asleep with that smile on her lips still. It was there until she woke, finding herself alone again with no ship to watch on the horizon outside of her bedroom window.





"But that's sad!" Elizabeth cried, " He left without saying goodbye?"

"He wrote to me," argued Desdemona, "It was just that the Royal Fleet had shown up in the mid-night and they had to get the Pearl away from there. They had no choice."

"And you never saw him again?"

"Never. At least, I thought so. Until I saw Will yesterday."

"They look that much alike?"

"Indeed," nodded Desdemona, "Indeed, they do. If I didn't know better."

Elizabeth thought of something, "So you fancied Jack as a little girl?"

"I fancy him now," grinned Desdemona, "What woman could not? He's charming. I was sure as gold that I would marry him when I became of age."

"Do you love him?"

"As a daughter loves her father, for after that last visit, he was the only one I had."

"He kept coming back?" Elizabeth cocked her head, and Desdemona nodded fervently, "Oh, he came back every spring. Never failed, until he just...didn't come. But I can understand. He had no ship, no crew, nothing. He'd been mutineered and thrown off of the very thing that had kept him alive as long as he'd been. I'm surprised that he lived without the Pearl, for she was the air that pumped in and out of him. He spoke of her like a young man in love speaks of his lover, and even as a very young child, I knew I could never compete."

Elizabeth snorted, thinking of the evening she'd taught him the Ode to the Pirates, then started, remembering their conversation. About the Pearl, what the Pearl meant, what the Pearl was. She nodded slowly, beginning to understand.

"Well, enough about that," Desdemona's eyes were beginning to flutter, "I should think I should get some more rest so that I don't have to trust the tavern to the-"

A loud roar came from the tavern beneath them. Elizabeth's eyes widened.

"I'll look after it," she promised, and Desdemona smiled as she hurried out of the room and down the stairs.









A/N - I'm not used to having such long chaptered stories, but I'll try to keep it up. What are you guys thinking? Still doing ok? :) More Jack in the next chapter, if you think I should still continue and I still think it's an okay story. Let me know!

~epiphanies