Sorry about my delay, I have been quite busy. This chapter was written by my Co-Author/Beta, Subter Astrui who has my deepest graditude.
Disclaimer: For this chapter, Will and Elizabeth are not mine.
Will sighed and turned back from the railing. Elizabeth was still below decks, and she wasn't feeling quite right.
At nearly three months pregnant, Elizabeth was getting quite sea sick from all of the rocking and tossing of the ship.
"Besides love, just in time for me to quit getting sick in the mornings!" she had said when at last port the doctor told her seasickness was common among pregnant women.
Will shook his head, remembering the doctor's other words about pregnancy. He smiled and headed below decks.
Entering the room, he noticed Elizabeth was asleep. 'I think I'll wake her up," he thought evilly, and proceeded to wake his wife with tickles and kisses.
"Evil worm! Stop you! Stop! Stop!" Elizabeth shrieked, and rolled away from Will, and turned on him with fire in her eyes. And so began the great tickle war of the two for the day.
Later, (after Will had lost the war and conceded victory) he and Elizabeth shared a quiet meal with the captain.
Catherine smiled knowingly as she caught several lusty glances between the pair, but also knew that they were deeply troubled by the loss of their first-born. She watched Elizabeth carefully, wondering how she would stand up to the rigors of childbirth again, knowing her first daughter would never see this little one.
"Lovely dinner, Catherine," said Elizabeth, turning to give the captain a brilliant smile. "Quite superb. It is the fish fresh?"
"Oh yes, it was caught just this morning off the side of ship of all places. A ten pounder!" The captain's eyes held pride as she spoke of her crew. " And what do you think, dear William?" Her eyes seemed to sparkle.
"I think it's fine, but it could have had a touch more seasoning and I-" He was cut off by his wife jabbing her elbow into his side.
"What he means to say, dear captain is, 'It was a lovely feast, and I'm quite sure we will join you again for one soon.'" She mimicked his voice, pitching hers down an octave, and earning herself a rather pointed look from Will.
The evening progressed, and finally, Will and Elizabeth returned to bed.
"Darling," Will said, "what should we name the little one?"
Elizabeth turned to look at Will, her eyes holding the flickering light of the dim candle as she spoke. "I think we let Addy decide."
Will flinched inwardly, and prepared himself for another talk. The past few months had been very awkward when it came to the subject of their daughter. Will, and experienced sailor, tried to think his daughter was all right, but feared the worst. Catherine's shiftiness and often reversal of decision regarding their daughter's health, happiness, and whereabouts was driving him mad. Elizabeth, however, took the captain's former words to heart, and assumed Addy was safe somewhere.
'At least she has hope. That's all I or anyone can ask,' he thought. "I suppose you're right Elizabeth. When we find Addy, she can choose. But if she tries to name it something atrocious like "Jack" or even "Norrington" we'll have serious problems.
Elizabeth laughed at this, and her husband silenced her with a kiss.
The night came swiftly for both of them.
The next morning Will awoke to sounds of retching. 'God not this again,' he thought, pulling on a shirt, and heading to the top deck. Sure enough, Elizabeth was there, only her nightgown-covered backside visible. "Are you all right love?"
Will walked to his wife and touched her with a gasp.
She was covered in a soft sheen of sweat, and looked pale and sickly. "I think it was the fish…" she trailed off as another heave bounced her stomach into her throat. She leaned over the railing and began to wrack with the spasms.
Catherine ran over, having been appraised of the situation, and took Will aside. "We're too far out of port to try and get her back there. The most we can do is hope she stays well enough on the ship and gets better. Now get her to your room quickly."
Will and several men carried Elizabeth downstairs, her body still wracked and burning with fever.
Will held her hand as she drifted into an uneasy sleep, her breath coming short and her head burning with the effort.
Days passed, and gradually Elizabeth got better, but her health was decreased. The fever had taken its toll on her body, and only after days of intense sickness did anyone remember the baby.
"Will…" she gasped weakly. "How's the baby?"
"Fine, love, the baby is fine. But you need your rest and strength," he answered, lifting a spoonful of broth to her chapped lips. He had spent days at her side, and it showed: his hair was greasy and matted, and he had a fine dusting of beard on his chin from lack of caring. His shirt was long discarded, but his breeches showed signs of dirt and other less pleasant things. It looked as if he only left out of necessity.
"Try to sleep Elizabeth. For your sake and the baby's."
As time passed, and Elizabeth grew stronger, the feeling that something was not right nagged her. It came and went with the breeze, and worried her immensely. She sat to dinner one cool night, and looked at her husband. He had grown thin during his time on the ship, but he had a lean figure anyway. He watched her, worry flitting across his features.
"Are you sure you're all right Elizabeth? You seem troubled."
"I'm fine, but I can't shake this feeling of worry. It's like something is going to happen, but good or bad I can't tell."
"Don't worry. We're two days from Port Isle, and when we're there, we can try and get news of Addy."
Elizabeth brightened at this. The golden lights of Port Isle could be seen across the water they were sailing through. By morning, the ship would be at the port, but would be delayed a day, waiting for an open spot to set anchor in the always busy port.
"Of course! That must be what's been bothering me. What with all the sickness and so on, I'd nearly forgotten about her…" She fell silent, guilty.
Will grasped her hands. "It's nothing to fret over. You could have died, love. Addy wouldn't want you killing yourself over her would she?"
"I suppose you're right." She yawned. "I'm tired, I think I'll retire." With that, she headed for bed, Will watching her.
He followed soon after, and slipped into bed beside her. "Goodnight Elizabeth," he kissed her and slept.
Screams cut the air and startled the third watchmen so badly they crossed themselves out of fear. It sounded like a dying animal.
Catherine pushed her doors open, a dressing gown on and a pistol in her hand. "What's going on?!" she demanded, her crew looking as lost as she.
"Tha noise ma'am. Sounds like it's comin' from down there" A dirty finger pointed at the hatch leading below decks.
Catherine slipped the hatch open, and moans of pain filled her ears, along with sudden cries for help. 'The baby,' she thought all of a sudden. Rushing downstairs, she grabbed the lantern from the nail on the side of the wall and proceeded to Will's room. The door was thrown open, and she entered, terrified and pain-filled cries filling the ship as they sat outside the port's waters, the city lights playing tricks on the water's surface…
The men and women lined at the door, waiting. Some hours before dawn, the screams had grown to plaintive moans and whimpers, and just as the sun spilled over Port Isle's hilltops, the cries ceased for a few still moments.
As if by force of will, the men and women shuddered as the worst cry of all, a despairing wail of obvious pain split the dawn sky, sending shivers down the spines of those who heard it. Some swore later the salt sea turned to ice when the sound rippled across the water. Others would swear that neighboring ships waiting for docking privileges ran into each other for fear of whatever caused it. But only the few crewmates on deck of the ship would veer truly know the source of the sound.
Heavy steps fell upon the stairs up to deck, and the hatch door slowly swung open.
The murmurs of the crew died as they saw the sorry sight of the captain struggling to exit in front of Will and Elizabeth, one pale and stoic, but shuddering with pent up sobs, the other bloody, limp, and dead.
"She's gone."
A/N sorry that it is so short, but it was a very hard chapter for Subter Astrui to write. Any reivews would be much appriciated or any questions shall be answered.
Thanks,
QueenofMercury & Subter Astrui