AN// By the time this is up, I'm hoping a few chapters of my new project
will be written. It's a songfic. or more likely... song NOVEL... It's based
on the story of Helen and Paris... The whole Iliad trip. *shrug* Right now
it's in the [[Homer]] Category in books but in all reality, I'm writing
this because of my Orlando Obsession (grin) so when the movie Troy comes
out in June/July, I'll move it to the [[Troy]] movie category that will
inevitably come alive by then. *laughs* So please go on up there and take a
looksee.
Chapter 13:
"He's shut tight?" AnaMaria asked, when she came upon Jack locking the door to a cabin. Jack just nodded and walked away. "What's wrong with him?"
^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^
The next morning, Patricia awoke with what could possibly be the worst hangover ever to be experienced by any person on the planet, accounting for all past hangovers all the way to the hangovers of the end of days.
"I don't like rum." she muttered. Elizabeth sat next to her, making the bed rock. "Do that again and I'll strangle you." She tried to put her head up to glare at her, but it hurt too much to move. "Strangle you when I can lift my head. yes. Good idea to wait."
"Well, that's your just reward for drinking so much," Elizabeth retorted. "You look an awful mess."
"I FEEL like an awful mess," she groaned.
"AnaMaria said to drink water. It'll help with the headache," Elizabeth said, giving Patricia a glass. She took it up and drank the water in gulps. "He's waiting on deck."
"Then I won't come on deck," Patricia replied simply. "I can barely sit up and I'm expected to deal with him?! No. I REALLY do not think so."
"Stop being so obstinate!"
"I have a hangover, Elizabeth. I'm not being stubborn. I'm being rational," she retorted.
"You weren't rational when you ran out on us and got yourself drunk," Elizabeth snapped.
"Well, SOR.RY. I hope my lapse of judgment hasn't put a wrinkle on your plans. I mean, it must be a bit more difficult to seduce Will when he's in such a state," Patricia glared at her, pointedly.
"Why do you feel so threatened by me? It's not like I'm after Will's affections!"
"Yes, you are. This ship is quite small compared to our town and, unfortunately for me, I see every move every person makes."
"So?"
"So I can see all your actions. Around Will, you're this sweet, innocent, young newlywed, captured against her own free will and hasn't an ill thought for those around her. You are endlessly wise and beautiful even when you have the greatest of smudges on your face and that isn't even when I'm around the both of you," Patricia muttered. Her head was pounding away but she kept on going. "When the three of us are present at one time, it seems like the radiance is increased by a few exponents and all of a sudden you're the damn Helen of Port Royal. When it's just the two of us, you're actually quite scathing like your implication that I stole my dress. SOOO excuse me for having not-very-flattering impressions of the great Elizabeth Swann."
"Helen of Port Royal?" Elizabeth asked not quite getting the reference.
"It's a reference towards Helen of Troy, the most beautiful woman in Greece. Greek mythology," Patricia groaned.
"You're quite educated for a blacksmith, Miss Taylor," Elizabeth said.
"Leave me alone, Elizabeth. I don't want to deal with you." Patricia buried her face into her pillows, not liking the prodding look that Elizabeth was giving her. She could see that the other wanted a brief history lesson and, realizing that Elizabeth was not leaving until the conversation served her purposes, whatever purposes they were, she sat up and took a drink of water again before looking at Elizabeth with less hostile eyes. "Do you remember my father at all?"
"A merchant. Died about six years ago?"
"Good," she nodded. "How about Ralph Owens?"
"What of him? He was hanged almost a decade ago for fraud and stealing. I remember he was the wealthiest man in Port Royal when I was younger and it turned out he stole everything from a merchant family. He got caught, of course."
"He stole those riches from my father," Patricia explained. Elizabeth looked at her in surprise.
"The Taylors were that merchant family?"
Patricia nodded. "But we got everything back. So Miss Swann, I wasn't always a poor blacksmith. I've had the means to educate myself and buy anything I wanted to and it was mostly books, which in turn, has made me quite knowledgeable about many things."
"And when your father died, lost everything again." Elizabeth didn't say it as question. She pretty much deduced that from the facts she's heard from around town but surprisingly Patricia laughed.
"Nope... wrong. I'm filthy rich."
"Filthy, yes. Rich, I wouldn't believe so," Elizabeth sneered and then shut her mouth at the appraising look Patricia gave her.
"Like I said: Scathing. But anyways, I am. Why wouldn't you think so?"
"James knows everything about Port Royal. He doesn't think very highly of you or Will because you're p..."
"Poor?"
"Yes," Elizabeth blushed but began to defend him almost instantly. "It's his fault. That's all. Everyone has their own and James' is his prejudice..."
"I know his fault a little too well, Elizabeth." Elizabeth stayed silent, a bit embarassed at the memory of her husband's patronizing tone at the party. "But that's beside the point. So you think that I'm without any financial stability because I live in a blacksmith shop, have the rattiest clothing and the Commodore doesn't think I am." Elizabeth nodded. "Okay, here's the truth: My father wasn't stupid. He had a will. He left everything to me but I decided not to flaunt it like Norrington does with his rank."
"So where's all the money?"
"In the bank... Every single pound and pence," she answered simply. "I have the bank slip with me everywhere I go."
"And how rich are you?"
At first, Patricia just looked Elizabeth with relucatance then answered, "We'll just say that Will and I are most likely richer than you and the Commodore. Norrington is just too blinded by our job names to know the difference." Silence fell on the two. Patricia's headache was still making her head throb yet she held Elizabeth's eyes.
"Are you ever going to talk to Will?"
"I will... when I'm not dizzy just at the sight of any motion," she smirked then it fell. For once, she looked at Elizabeth, her own human weakness showing. "You're REALLY not after Will?"
"Patricia, I'm married. I might feel attracted to him but I'm not blind, nor am I ignorant to his charm," Elizabeth joked. "Very understandable that you fell for him." Patricia smiled.
Even if it were just for this moment, Patricia and Elizabeth looked at each other with understanding and a truce was called.
AN// I'm facing Writer's Block. FULL ON Writer's MONOLITH!!.... BAD BAD BAD.... Review Please!
Chapter 13:
"He's shut tight?" AnaMaria asked, when she came upon Jack locking the door to a cabin. Jack just nodded and walked away. "What's wrong with him?"
^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^
The next morning, Patricia awoke with what could possibly be the worst hangover ever to be experienced by any person on the planet, accounting for all past hangovers all the way to the hangovers of the end of days.
"I don't like rum." she muttered. Elizabeth sat next to her, making the bed rock. "Do that again and I'll strangle you." She tried to put her head up to glare at her, but it hurt too much to move. "Strangle you when I can lift my head. yes. Good idea to wait."
"Well, that's your just reward for drinking so much," Elizabeth retorted. "You look an awful mess."
"I FEEL like an awful mess," she groaned.
"AnaMaria said to drink water. It'll help with the headache," Elizabeth said, giving Patricia a glass. She took it up and drank the water in gulps. "He's waiting on deck."
"Then I won't come on deck," Patricia replied simply. "I can barely sit up and I'm expected to deal with him?! No. I REALLY do not think so."
"Stop being so obstinate!"
"I have a hangover, Elizabeth. I'm not being stubborn. I'm being rational," she retorted.
"You weren't rational when you ran out on us and got yourself drunk," Elizabeth snapped.
"Well, SOR.RY. I hope my lapse of judgment hasn't put a wrinkle on your plans. I mean, it must be a bit more difficult to seduce Will when he's in such a state," Patricia glared at her, pointedly.
"Why do you feel so threatened by me? It's not like I'm after Will's affections!"
"Yes, you are. This ship is quite small compared to our town and, unfortunately for me, I see every move every person makes."
"So?"
"So I can see all your actions. Around Will, you're this sweet, innocent, young newlywed, captured against her own free will and hasn't an ill thought for those around her. You are endlessly wise and beautiful even when you have the greatest of smudges on your face and that isn't even when I'm around the both of you," Patricia muttered. Her head was pounding away but she kept on going. "When the three of us are present at one time, it seems like the radiance is increased by a few exponents and all of a sudden you're the damn Helen of Port Royal. When it's just the two of us, you're actually quite scathing like your implication that I stole my dress. SOOO excuse me for having not-very-flattering impressions of the great Elizabeth Swann."
"Helen of Port Royal?" Elizabeth asked not quite getting the reference.
"It's a reference towards Helen of Troy, the most beautiful woman in Greece. Greek mythology," Patricia groaned.
"You're quite educated for a blacksmith, Miss Taylor," Elizabeth said.
"Leave me alone, Elizabeth. I don't want to deal with you." Patricia buried her face into her pillows, not liking the prodding look that Elizabeth was giving her. She could see that the other wanted a brief history lesson and, realizing that Elizabeth was not leaving until the conversation served her purposes, whatever purposes they were, she sat up and took a drink of water again before looking at Elizabeth with less hostile eyes. "Do you remember my father at all?"
"A merchant. Died about six years ago?"
"Good," she nodded. "How about Ralph Owens?"
"What of him? He was hanged almost a decade ago for fraud and stealing. I remember he was the wealthiest man in Port Royal when I was younger and it turned out he stole everything from a merchant family. He got caught, of course."
"He stole those riches from my father," Patricia explained. Elizabeth looked at her in surprise.
"The Taylors were that merchant family?"
Patricia nodded. "But we got everything back. So Miss Swann, I wasn't always a poor blacksmith. I've had the means to educate myself and buy anything I wanted to and it was mostly books, which in turn, has made me quite knowledgeable about many things."
"And when your father died, lost everything again." Elizabeth didn't say it as question. She pretty much deduced that from the facts she's heard from around town but surprisingly Patricia laughed.
"Nope... wrong. I'm filthy rich."
"Filthy, yes. Rich, I wouldn't believe so," Elizabeth sneered and then shut her mouth at the appraising look Patricia gave her.
"Like I said: Scathing. But anyways, I am. Why wouldn't you think so?"
"James knows everything about Port Royal. He doesn't think very highly of you or Will because you're p..."
"Poor?"
"Yes," Elizabeth blushed but began to defend him almost instantly. "It's his fault. That's all. Everyone has their own and James' is his prejudice..."
"I know his fault a little too well, Elizabeth." Elizabeth stayed silent, a bit embarassed at the memory of her husband's patronizing tone at the party. "But that's beside the point. So you think that I'm without any financial stability because I live in a blacksmith shop, have the rattiest clothing and the Commodore doesn't think I am." Elizabeth nodded. "Okay, here's the truth: My father wasn't stupid. He had a will. He left everything to me but I decided not to flaunt it like Norrington does with his rank."
"So where's all the money?"
"In the bank... Every single pound and pence," she answered simply. "I have the bank slip with me everywhere I go."
"And how rich are you?"
At first, Patricia just looked Elizabeth with relucatance then answered, "We'll just say that Will and I are most likely richer than you and the Commodore. Norrington is just too blinded by our job names to know the difference." Silence fell on the two. Patricia's headache was still making her head throb yet she held Elizabeth's eyes.
"Are you ever going to talk to Will?"
"I will... when I'm not dizzy just at the sight of any motion," she smirked then it fell. For once, she looked at Elizabeth, her own human weakness showing. "You're REALLY not after Will?"
"Patricia, I'm married. I might feel attracted to him but I'm not blind, nor am I ignorant to his charm," Elizabeth joked. "Very understandable that you fell for him." Patricia smiled.
Even if it were just for this moment, Patricia and Elizabeth looked at each other with understanding and a truce was called.
AN// I'm facing Writer's Block. FULL ON Writer's MONOLITH!!.... BAD BAD BAD.... Review Please!