Now with correction that hopefully no one but Dryandra noticed in the first place!
*~*~*
The Red Dragon drew slowly into Port Royale's harbour, each man aboard achingly aware of the awful cargo they bore and the terrible news their captain had to give to the governor. Hopkins glanced up at his young captain, a sad smile crossing his weathered face as he watched Will draw Matthew up into his arms, pointing to the shore where his grandfather and cousin waited patiently for the ship to dock. The little boy didn't understand what had happened, why his mother was gone, and his father so sad. But just his presence had done wonders for Will's spirit, lifting him from the despair that had threatened to overwhelm him to stand watch over his son as he grew. For Elizabeth.
No order needed to be given as they dropped anchor, men moving slowly below to collect their tragic cargo and load it into the longboat. Will and Matthew slipped into the second boat, having no room to sit with Elizabeth as she was rowed across the harbour. Governor Swann moved forward to greet his son-in-law, not seeing the leaded coffin as it was manhandled onto the dock. James, however, froze, shocked beyond words as he took in what he saw. Beside him, Laura frowned, glancing up at her husband in confusion. He bent, murmuring something to her, and she gasped, one hand moving to her mouth as tears began to sparkle in her eyes.
Swann smiled down at his grandson, lifting him into his arms with a chuckle as the little boy greeted him enthusiastically. Lady Rosemary embraced Will, suppressing her questions as she took in the terrible loss in his eyes. As he moved to speak to his father-in-law, Laura broke between them, tears trickling down her cheeks, and held him close.
'Thank you for bringing her home, Will,' she whispered, feeling his hands tighten spasmodically at her back, and the shuddering gasp he tried so hard to hide.
As they parted, Will smiling gratefully down at his wife's cousin, the governor glanced up from his grandson, looking about him for the third of their party.
'Where's Elizabeth?' he asked.
Will swallowed, forcing himself not to look at the coffin where it lay nearby, guarded by six of his men.
'Sir, I . . .' he began, choked by his own grief as the words refused to come, dying in his throat as he fought to remain composed.
James wrapped an arm about his wife, wishing he could break the news for the younger man. No one should have to go through what Will was now suffering. Laura gripped his waist tightly, her own sobs almost inaudible as she watched her cousin's husband fight to tell them of her death.
'Will, whatever is the matter?' the governor asked, suddenly concerned. 'It's a simple enough question, man, where is my daughter?'
Lady Rosemary reached out, her face solemn, to place a hand on her brother-in-law's arm.
'Weatherby,' she said softly, her tone a warning to him that he did not understand.
'Well, it is, Rosemary,' he defended himself, turning back to Will as Matthew shifted in his arms, affected by his father's sudden mood change. 'Will?'
Unable to face the man who had entrusted him with his daughter's safety, Will turned abruptly away, walking a few steps towards the town blindly. James moved to intercept him, a firm hand placed on his friend's shoulder to prevent him doing anything he might regret. Confused and alarmed, Swann stared at them, glancing back at the women, who had moved to stand together, unable to look at the coffin laid out beside them. In his arms, Matthew shifted again, laying his golden head down on his grandfather's shoulder.
'Mama's gone,' he said quietly, emotionless in his non-understanding of what had happened.
Swann drew his head back to look down at the little boy, his frown deepening.
'Gone?' he repeated, comprehension beginning to dawn as he looked from the child to the women, to Will, who still could not look at him. 'She can't be . . .'
His gaze was drawn to the coffin, finally, to the miserable expressions of the men standing guard over their captain's wife, and a chilling feeling gripped him. His eyes closed slowly, trying to block out the sight of his daughter's last carriage. He barely felt Rosemary's hand against his back, offering comfort to him as he held Matthew close, rocking the bewildered child back and forth in mute grief.
James looked down into Will's stricken face, his hand flexing on the pirate's shoulder in the only form of support he felt he could give. Will's head drooped, his grimace tightening as the tears that had only fallen in the hours after Elizabeth's death began to flow once more, and he willingly turned into the comfort of James' embrace, unashamed to cling to the older man in the throes of his pain. Slowly, the tide of grieving ebbed for a while, allowing the sorrowful group to make their way back to Governor's House, to watch as Elizabeth was laid in a place of rest before she could be committed to the earth.
Will sat on the sofa, Matthew on his lap, as the governor poured himself a large measure of brandy. Lady Rosemary had attempted to retire to her room, unwilling to hear how her beloved niece had died, or indeed, any more about Elizabeth until she had composed herself, but found the silence of her own company too awful to bear, returning to sit with them within minutes of leaving. Laura sat beside Will, one hand on his as she leant forward.
'How . . . how did it happen?' she asked hesitantly, almost afraid to know the truth.
She watched as Will froze for a moment, forcing himself to tell them what they had every right to know.
'She was shot,' he said bluntly, knowing no way to soften the blow, 'by the former overseer of Marin's island. He was trying to take the island by force.'
Lady Rosemary gasped, shocked by the violence of her niece's death. The governor, on the other hand, leant forward, his eyes bright and vicious.
'Need I ask how his state of health is?' he demanded, trying to stop himself from attacking his son-in-law at such a painful time for the young man.
Will swallowed, his face hardening.
'Dead, sir,' he said firmly. 'Killed by Dugan for us all.'
Governor Swann leant back, sagging slightly. The sudden weight of his daughter's death would take time to sink in, he knew, but somehow knowing her murderer was lying in a shallow grave himself seemed to soften the blow.
'There were suggestions that we bury her on the island,' Will said softly. 'But I thought to bring her home to you, sir, since you have the right to decide how she be put to rest.'
Swann nodded numbly, gripping his sister-in-law's hand tightly as this, too, sank in. Lady Rosemary took charge of the situation, exchanging a glance with James over her late sister's husband's head.
'A quiet affair then, as soon as possible,' she said, her voice strangely level despite her grief. 'How soon will Jack and Marin be here?'
A faint smile crossed Will's face, and he turned to look Lady Rosemary in the face.
'I'm afraid Jack and Marin send their apologies for not being able to attend the funeral,' he told them, raising a hand to forestall James' concerned queries. 'They have . . . other things to attend to at the moment.'
'I should think the funeral of her best friend would be more important to Marin than the well-being of an island that will keep for another few weeks without her,' Lady Rosemary began, cut off by Will's sudden grin, so out of place on a young face haunted by grief.
'It would be, but it's not the island that's taking up her time, I'm afraid,' he said, trying not to appear flippant and failing miserably. 'It's the baby.'
The look on James' face was priceless, he decided, sorry Jack had not been there to see it. Laura's eyes lit up in joy, her sorrow forgotten for a moment as she contemplated the new life born to her friends.
'Marin's had her baby?' she asked, almost breathless. 'When?'
At this, Will's smile vanished once again, and his grip tightened on her hand.
'The morning of the day Elizabeth died,' he murmured. 'She died protecting Marin and her daughter from Redman.'
The cloud returned to hang over the little party on hearing this, though the sorrow was now tempered with pride in Elizabeth that her final act had been one of compassion and love. James could not keep the tiny smile from his face. His little cousin, so worldly-wise in so many things, was a mother. She had a daughter, the first of many, he suspected, and found himself wondering what Jack thought of his new role, one he was certain the pirate had never played before.
'What's her name?' he asked quietly, though he felt that he already knew the answer.
Will smiled fleetingly as he glanced at the governor.
'Elizabeth,' he said softly, seeing the fond joy on the grieving faces around him and feeling it keenly himself.
'Life from death,' Lady Rosemary murmured, inwardly pleased that her niece's name would continue on with the life of the child who was no doubt being doted on as they spoke.
'She's ugly,' Matthew offered, his small face screwed up as he remembered the first time he saw little Beth.
For some reason, this struck the group gathered there as extraordinarily funny, even the governor laughing softly at his grandson's evaluation of the new baby. And in the mirth, hearts that had been torn apart by the grief of loss began the slow healing that would continue as the promise of new life blossomed and bloomed.
*~*~*
The Red Dragon drew slowly into Port Royale's harbour, each man aboard achingly aware of the awful cargo they bore and the terrible news their captain had to give to the governor. Hopkins glanced up at his young captain, a sad smile crossing his weathered face as he watched Will draw Matthew up into his arms, pointing to the shore where his grandfather and cousin waited patiently for the ship to dock. The little boy didn't understand what had happened, why his mother was gone, and his father so sad. But just his presence had done wonders for Will's spirit, lifting him from the despair that had threatened to overwhelm him to stand watch over his son as he grew. For Elizabeth.
No order needed to be given as they dropped anchor, men moving slowly below to collect their tragic cargo and load it into the longboat. Will and Matthew slipped into the second boat, having no room to sit with Elizabeth as she was rowed across the harbour. Governor Swann moved forward to greet his son-in-law, not seeing the leaded coffin as it was manhandled onto the dock. James, however, froze, shocked beyond words as he took in what he saw. Beside him, Laura frowned, glancing up at her husband in confusion. He bent, murmuring something to her, and she gasped, one hand moving to her mouth as tears began to sparkle in her eyes.
Swann smiled down at his grandson, lifting him into his arms with a chuckle as the little boy greeted him enthusiastically. Lady Rosemary embraced Will, suppressing her questions as she took in the terrible loss in his eyes. As he moved to speak to his father-in-law, Laura broke between them, tears trickling down her cheeks, and held him close.
'Thank you for bringing her home, Will,' she whispered, feeling his hands tighten spasmodically at her back, and the shuddering gasp he tried so hard to hide.
As they parted, Will smiling gratefully down at his wife's cousin, the governor glanced up from his grandson, looking about him for the third of their party.
'Where's Elizabeth?' he asked.
Will swallowed, forcing himself not to look at the coffin where it lay nearby, guarded by six of his men.
'Sir, I . . .' he began, choked by his own grief as the words refused to come, dying in his throat as he fought to remain composed.
James wrapped an arm about his wife, wishing he could break the news for the younger man. No one should have to go through what Will was now suffering. Laura gripped his waist tightly, her own sobs almost inaudible as she watched her cousin's husband fight to tell them of her death.
'Will, whatever is the matter?' the governor asked, suddenly concerned. 'It's a simple enough question, man, where is my daughter?'
Lady Rosemary reached out, her face solemn, to place a hand on her brother-in-law's arm.
'Weatherby,' she said softly, her tone a warning to him that he did not understand.
'Well, it is, Rosemary,' he defended himself, turning back to Will as Matthew shifted in his arms, affected by his father's sudden mood change. 'Will?'
Unable to face the man who had entrusted him with his daughter's safety, Will turned abruptly away, walking a few steps towards the town blindly. James moved to intercept him, a firm hand placed on his friend's shoulder to prevent him doing anything he might regret. Confused and alarmed, Swann stared at them, glancing back at the women, who had moved to stand together, unable to look at the coffin laid out beside them. In his arms, Matthew shifted again, laying his golden head down on his grandfather's shoulder.
'Mama's gone,' he said quietly, emotionless in his non-understanding of what had happened.
Swann drew his head back to look down at the little boy, his frown deepening.
'Gone?' he repeated, comprehension beginning to dawn as he looked from the child to the women, to Will, who still could not look at him. 'She can't be . . .'
His gaze was drawn to the coffin, finally, to the miserable expressions of the men standing guard over their captain's wife, and a chilling feeling gripped him. His eyes closed slowly, trying to block out the sight of his daughter's last carriage. He barely felt Rosemary's hand against his back, offering comfort to him as he held Matthew close, rocking the bewildered child back and forth in mute grief.
James looked down into Will's stricken face, his hand flexing on the pirate's shoulder in the only form of support he felt he could give. Will's head drooped, his grimace tightening as the tears that had only fallen in the hours after Elizabeth's death began to flow once more, and he willingly turned into the comfort of James' embrace, unashamed to cling to the older man in the throes of his pain. Slowly, the tide of grieving ebbed for a while, allowing the sorrowful group to make their way back to Governor's House, to watch as Elizabeth was laid in a place of rest before she could be committed to the earth.
Will sat on the sofa, Matthew on his lap, as the governor poured himself a large measure of brandy. Lady Rosemary had attempted to retire to her room, unwilling to hear how her beloved niece had died, or indeed, any more about Elizabeth until she had composed herself, but found the silence of her own company too awful to bear, returning to sit with them within minutes of leaving. Laura sat beside Will, one hand on his as she leant forward.
'How . . . how did it happen?' she asked hesitantly, almost afraid to know the truth.
She watched as Will froze for a moment, forcing himself to tell them what they had every right to know.
'She was shot,' he said bluntly, knowing no way to soften the blow, 'by the former overseer of Marin's island. He was trying to take the island by force.'
Lady Rosemary gasped, shocked by the violence of her niece's death. The governor, on the other hand, leant forward, his eyes bright and vicious.
'Need I ask how his state of health is?' he demanded, trying to stop himself from attacking his son-in-law at such a painful time for the young man.
Will swallowed, his face hardening.
'Dead, sir,' he said firmly. 'Killed by Dugan for us all.'
Governor Swann leant back, sagging slightly. The sudden weight of his daughter's death would take time to sink in, he knew, but somehow knowing her murderer was lying in a shallow grave himself seemed to soften the blow.
'There were suggestions that we bury her on the island,' Will said softly. 'But I thought to bring her home to you, sir, since you have the right to decide how she be put to rest.'
Swann nodded numbly, gripping his sister-in-law's hand tightly as this, too, sank in. Lady Rosemary took charge of the situation, exchanging a glance with James over her late sister's husband's head.
'A quiet affair then, as soon as possible,' she said, her voice strangely level despite her grief. 'How soon will Jack and Marin be here?'
A faint smile crossed Will's face, and he turned to look Lady Rosemary in the face.
'I'm afraid Jack and Marin send their apologies for not being able to attend the funeral,' he told them, raising a hand to forestall James' concerned queries. 'They have . . . other things to attend to at the moment.'
'I should think the funeral of her best friend would be more important to Marin than the well-being of an island that will keep for another few weeks without her,' Lady Rosemary began, cut off by Will's sudden grin, so out of place on a young face haunted by grief.
'It would be, but it's not the island that's taking up her time, I'm afraid,' he said, trying not to appear flippant and failing miserably. 'It's the baby.'
The look on James' face was priceless, he decided, sorry Jack had not been there to see it. Laura's eyes lit up in joy, her sorrow forgotten for a moment as she contemplated the new life born to her friends.
'Marin's had her baby?' she asked, almost breathless. 'When?'
At this, Will's smile vanished once again, and his grip tightened on her hand.
'The morning of the day Elizabeth died,' he murmured. 'She died protecting Marin and her daughter from Redman.'
The cloud returned to hang over the little party on hearing this, though the sorrow was now tempered with pride in Elizabeth that her final act had been one of compassion and love. James could not keep the tiny smile from his face. His little cousin, so worldly-wise in so many things, was a mother. She had a daughter, the first of many, he suspected, and found himself wondering what Jack thought of his new role, one he was certain the pirate had never played before.
'What's her name?' he asked quietly, though he felt that he already knew the answer.
Will smiled fleetingly as he glanced at the governor.
'Elizabeth,' he said softly, seeing the fond joy on the grieving faces around him and feeling it keenly himself.
'Life from death,' Lady Rosemary murmured, inwardly pleased that her niece's name would continue on with the life of the child who was no doubt being doted on as they spoke.
'She's ugly,' Matthew offered, his small face screwed up as he remembered the first time he saw little Beth.
For some reason, this struck the group gathered there as extraordinarily funny, even the governor laughing softly at his grandson's evaluation of the new baby. And in the mirth, hearts that had been torn apart by the grief of loss began the slow healing that would continue as the promise of new life blossomed and bloomed.