Helllllooooooo!!
Thanky to all you reviewy people!!!!
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Chapter Twenty-Seven – Oily Evil
"There! Two ships!"
Elizabeth heard the excited cry from above. A straggly man with watery eyes half climbed half fell down to the deck from his high up vantage point. His uniform hung of him, as though left on a clotheshorse, instead of being worn.
"Two ships, Captain!"
Elizabeth's heart thrilled. She remembered herself, and spoke in what she hoped was a gruff man's voice;
"Then hurry forward, and catch them up!"
"Aye, aye!"
Elizabeth was handed a spyglass. With some difficulty, he opened it fully, and then pointed it in the direction the crewman pointed.
The image was blurry, and shook wildly, as she couldn't stay perfectly still on the swaying deck. The crew seemed to find this odd, and watched, interested.
Eventually, Elizabeth focused the thing, and saw clearly the two black ships. The 'Pearl' was out in front, with the 'Raven' trailing behind. Their sails were not all lowered, and they were going at a somewhat leisurely pace.
Satisfied, she attempted to click the 'glass shut, as she'd seen Norrington and Jack do. Instead it slipped from her cold numbed fingers, and clattered and rolled on the deck. A few muffled laughs filtered around her. Blushing furiously, another thing the crew thought strange, she bent to pick the dratted thing up. Stuffing it inside her jacket, Elizabeth ran back into her cabin.
"Oh, Lord! They're sure to find out!"
She whispered to her surroundings. Elizabeth pulled the Captain's hat from her head, and allowed what was left of her curls to flop lankly around her ears.
She felt sick, and worried. She was becoming somewhat paranoid about her secret. No, her second secret. Only thanks to her big mouth, Norrington knew about her feelings for Jack. Oh Lord, what worse was there she could have told him?
(The day before.)
James Norrington smoothed his already perfect wig. He rapped smartly on Elizabeth's door.
He waited patiently, pondering her words of yesterday. Honestly, he must help her sort girlish fancies out from her true feelings. Imagine, her saying she loved a pirate! It was amusingly absurd. The thing with Turner had been realistic enough for belief, just. But this was babble from the sickbed. Obviously Elizabeth had not been herself. Several days in the company of scoundrels had weakened her already soft but lady-like mind.
"Elizabeth?"
No answer.
"Miss Swann? Are you alright?"
Again, silence.
The Commodore opened the door. A dress laid spread upon the bed. The wardrobe had been ransacked, several uniform items missing, their hangers strewn over the floor.
"Oh my—."
On the desk lay a pair of scissors. Scattered across the wooden floor were golden honeyed curls.
Norrington sprinted to the head of his ship. It was sluggishly pulling away from the fleet. He saw two men, another supported between them, staggering toward him.
"Commodore! It's Captain Hart!"
The lieutenant gestured to the man he was holding. Norrington recognised Hart as the new Captain of the commandeered ship, the 'Swordfish'.
He looked out across the heaving waves.
"Gillette! Get this ship after Miss Swann!"
"Pardon, sir?"
"Miss Swann has taken the 'Swordfish'! We need to bring her back here, and back to her senses!"
"Yes, sir!"
(The day after)
"It's no good, it's too fast. Almost like she's chasing something."
"Or someone."
Norrington muttered under his breath.
He turned back to his own quarters. Once inside, he removed his hat. Why was Elizabeth acting so irresponsible? This fixation with that damn pirate was too much.
Will sat back in his corner. He stared at the sleeping form of Jack. His anger burned like a hot piece of iron inside him. He hated this man. He was jealous. This man had stolen Elizabeth. Will let his feelings churn into one solid lump of hate. His eyes shot daggers at the Captain, his fists clenching.
Hani sat silent, observing him. The signs were obvious. Her elder sister would be pleased. Perhaps after Sparrow was murdered, they could keep Mr Turner. He was quite handsome.
Will eventually seemed to drift to sleep. Like a wraith, Hani moved from the brig, floating into the upper decks, and tapping on her sister's door.
"Come."
"He is angry, sister. Just as you said."
Loua nodded.
"He can't help it. We will of course provide him with a dagger tomorrow. Mind you, blood does stain terribly, doesn't it? Perhaps we'll let him strangle Sparrow."
Hani nodded, unsure. Milla stood in the corner, listening silently.
"We can throw the body over the side."
Loua snapped open a powder compact. She began to dust the pale powder over her cheeks.
"I doubt anybody will go looking. No relatives I know of. Only the girl, Miss Swann, will worry too much. And my dearest friend," Here she smiled, "Commodore James Norrington will prevent her searching to well."
Loua snapped the compact closed.
"We could just poison him again."
They looked at Milla, who shrugged.
Loua nodded slightly.
"Yes, but then Turner will not gain our trust. Letting him rid himself of his opponent will make him our friend. Although, I did promise Norrington Elizabeth..."
Loua shrugged carelessly.
Hani and Milla left silently. Loua didn't rebuke them, so they took it as dismissal. Loua settled back in her chair. She reached down the side of the cushion. Her frail hand withdrew an evilly black scabbard. Inside was a dagger, its blade oily and unreal looking.
Loua began to hum a quiet tune. She laid the blade, sheathed, on her desk, and left her cabin.
The next day was very bright. Elizabeth had woken early, now, as her ship drew closer to the stationary black ones, she felt scared, nay, terrified.
There was no crew out on deck. Nothing stirred, except the rigging. Ghost ships.
Below was quite different. Will stirred. Something was pulling him upward. A pair of hands the size of dinner plates.
He was lead up out of the brig, but into the cool air. No, the strange woman waited for him on the next deck up.
"Ahh, William! How nice to see you again."
"What do you want now?"
Will knew. She was going to make him feel hate for his friend again. He'd buried those feelings in sleep. Pushed them back from where they'd come. But now, she'd drag them up. Will was going to resist. At least he knew what to expect.
"Here, a gift."
She held out a dagger. It was evilly beautiful. Will took it, and tested its balance. Perfect. He looked questioningly at Loua's face.
She smiled a nasty smile.
"Use it well."
Then she was gone. The strong hands drew him backward, and pushed him down the stairs. Will was surprised to not be shoved into his cell. Rather he was left, alone in the middle of the brig.
He saw Jack. Jack was looking pointedly at the weapon, apparently trying to dig his way out of the ship with his shoulder blades.
"Will, ye aren't gonna start wavin' that about?"
Will looked down at the thing he held. A sweat seemed to break out on his brow. His mind was in turmoil. The blade glistened in the gloom, whispering things that no one could hear.
"I'm sorry Jack."
Jack's eyes widened
"Will —."
Jack held his hands out in front of himself. Will lunged.
Up in her room, Loua sat, trying to understand the 'Pearl'. It said nothing to her. Damn it. But then, a sound so quiet, so made of nothing, it deafened her.
The Black Pearl screamed.
Thanky to all you reviewy people!!!!
***********************************************************
Chapter Twenty-Seven – Oily Evil
"There! Two ships!"
Elizabeth heard the excited cry from above. A straggly man with watery eyes half climbed half fell down to the deck from his high up vantage point. His uniform hung of him, as though left on a clotheshorse, instead of being worn.
"Two ships, Captain!"
Elizabeth's heart thrilled. She remembered herself, and spoke in what she hoped was a gruff man's voice;
"Then hurry forward, and catch them up!"
"Aye, aye!"
Elizabeth was handed a spyglass. With some difficulty, he opened it fully, and then pointed it in the direction the crewman pointed.
The image was blurry, and shook wildly, as she couldn't stay perfectly still on the swaying deck. The crew seemed to find this odd, and watched, interested.
Eventually, Elizabeth focused the thing, and saw clearly the two black ships. The 'Pearl' was out in front, with the 'Raven' trailing behind. Their sails were not all lowered, and they were going at a somewhat leisurely pace.
Satisfied, she attempted to click the 'glass shut, as she'd seen Norrington and Jack do. Instead it slipped from her cold numbed fingers, and clattered and rolled on the deck. A few muffled laughs filtered around her. Blushing furiously, another thing the crew thought strange, she bent to pick the dratted thing up. Stuffing it inside her jacket, Elizabeth ran back into her cabin.
"Oh, Lord! They're sure to find out!"
She whispered to her surroundings. Elizabeth pulled the Captain's hat from her head, and allowed what was left of her curls to flop lankly around her ears.
She felt sick, and worried. She was becoming somewhat paranoid about her secret. No, her second secret. Only thanks to her big mouth, Norrington knew about her feelings for Jack. Oh Lord, what worse was there she could have told him?
(The day before.)
James Norrington smoothed his already perfect wig. He rapped smartly on Elizabeth's door.
He waited patiently, pondering her words of yesterday. Honestly, he must help her sort girlish fancies out from her true feelings. Imagine, her saying she loved a pirate! It was amusingly absurd. The thing with Turner had been realistic enough for belief, just. But this was babble from the sickbed. Obviously Elizabeth had not been herself. Several days in the company of scoundrels had weakened her already soft but lady-like mind.
"Elizabeth?"
No answer.
"Miss Swann? Are you alright?"
Again, silence.
The Commodore opened the door. A dress laid spread upon the bed. The wardrobe had been ransacked, several uniform items missing, their hangers strewn over the floor.
"Oh my—."
On the desk lay a pair of scissors. Scattered across the wooden floor were golden honeyed curls.
Norrington sprinted to the head of his ship. It was sluggishly pulling away from the fleet. He saw two men, another supported between them, staggering toward him.
"Commodore! It's Captain Hart!"
The lieutenant gestured to the man he was holding. Norrington recognised Hart as the new Captain of the commandeered ship, the 'Swordfish'.
He looked out across the heaving waves.
"Gillette! Get this ship after Miss Swann!"
"Pardon, sir?"
"Miss Swann has taken the 'Swordfish'! We need to bring her back here, and back to her senses!"
"Yes, sir!"
(The day after)
"It's no good, it's too fast. Almost like she's chasing something."
"Or someone."
Norrington muttered under his breath.
He turned back to his own quarters. Once inside, he removed his hat. Why was Elizabeth acting so irresponsible? This fixation with that damn pirate was too much.
Will sat back in his corner. He stared at the sleeping form of Jack. His anger burned like a hot piece of iron inside him. He hated this man. He was jealous. This man had stolen Elizabeth. Will let his feelings churn into one solid lump of hate. His eyes shot daggers at the Captain, his fists clenching.
Hani sat silent, observing him. The signs were obvious. Her elder sister would be pleased. Perhaps after Sparrow was murdered, they could keep Mr Turner. He was quite handsome.
Will eventually seemed to drift to sleep. Like a wraith, Hani moved from the brig, floating into the upper decks, and tapping on her sister's door.
"Come."
"He is angry, sister. Just as you said."
Loua nodded.
"He can't help it. We will of course provide him with a dagger tomorrow. Mind you, blood does stain terribly, doesn't it? Perhaps we'll let him strangle Sparrow."
Hani nodded, unsure. Milla stood in the corner, listening silently.
"We can throw the body over the side."
Loua snapped open a powder compact. She began to dust the pale powder over her cheeks.
"I doubt anybody will go looking. No relatives I know of. Only the girl, Miss Swann, will worry too much. And my dearest friend," Here she smiled, "Commodore James Norrington will prevent her searching to well."
Loua snapped the compact closed.
"We could just poison him again."
They looked at Milla, who shrugged.
Loua nodded slightly.
"Yes, but then Turner will not gain our trust. Letting him rid himself of his opponent will make him our friend. Although, I did promise Norrington Elizabeth..."
Loua shrugged carelessly.
Hani and Milla left silently. Loua didn't rebuke them, so they took it as dismissal. Loua settled back in her chair. She reached down the side of the cushion. Her frail hand withdrew an evilly black scabbard. Inside was a dagger, its blade oily and unreal looking.
Loua began to hum a quiet tune. She laid the blade, sheathed, on her desk, and left her cabin.
The next day was very bright. Elizabeth had woken early, now, as her ship drew closer to the stationary black ones, she felt scared, nay, terrified.
There was no crew out on deck. Nothing stirred, except the rigging. Ghost ships.
Below was quite different. Will stirred. Something was pulling him upward. A pair of hands the size of dinner plates.
He was lead up out of the brig, but into the cool air. No, the strange woman waited for him on the next deck up.
"Ahh, William! How nice to see you again."
"What do you want now?"
Will knew. She was going to make him feel hate for his friend again. He'd buried those feelings in sleep. Pushed them back from where they'd come. But now, she'd drag them up. Will was going to resist. At least he knew what to expect.
"Here, a gift."
She held out a dagger. It was evilly beautiful. Will took it, and tested its balance. Perfect. He looked questioningly at Loua's face.
She smiled a nasty smile.
"Use it well."
Then she was gone. The strong hands drew him backward, and pushed him down the stairs. Will was surprised to not be shoved into his cell. Rather he was left, alone in the middle of the brig.
He saw Jack. Jack was looking pointedly at the weapon, apparently trying to dig his way out of the ship with his shoulder blades.
"Will, ye aren't gonna start wavin' that about?"
Will looked down at the thing he held. A sweat seemed to break out on his brow. His mind was in turmoil. The blade glistened in the gloom, whispering things that no one could hear.
"I'm sorry Jack."
Jack's eyes widened
"Will —."
Jack held his hands out in front of himself. Will lunged.
Up in her room, Loua sat, trying to understand the 'Pearl'. It said nothing to her. Damn it. But then, a sound so quiet, so made of nothing, it deafened her.
The Black Pearl screamed.