Camille is like... 16, almost 17, then Thomas is around 19...
well... here...
Jonathan let out a grunt as Thomas knocked him back to the floor.
For a few moments, Thomas was atop of him, trying to keep a hold of his arms. Jonathan's knee hit Thomas in the back so suddenly that he fell to the side of Jonathan, but in that free second, both had managed to jump onto their feet.
"What's in your head, boy? Do you honestly believe that you can beat me?" John asked in a low voice.
Thomas said nothing as they slowly continued to circle each other, waiting for the other to make the first move. "Well," Jonathan said, holding his head up as if they were discussing every-day business, "I just want you to know that your vows are, 'till death do us part'. I'll kill you, and death will part the two of you... Then I'll take Camille and make her my own wife. Have her be the one to carry my sons..."
"No!" Thomas shouted, suddenly ramming Jonathan against one of the posts. Jonathan winced in pain as his head slammed against the wood. "You won't!" Thomas yelled, his fist easily pumbled against his jaw.
Jonathan pushed Thomas back, causing him to trip over a small crate. For a few seconds, he only stared at Thomas but then put a finger to the corner of his mouth. His eyes dropped down to the finger, gazing at the blood. "Bad, bad thing to do, Thomas." John informed him, stepping over the crate, standing over him.
His boot kicked Thomas's side with such a great force that a yell escaped Thomas's mouth. "YOU THINK THAT HURTS?" Jonathan kicked him again, but even harder.
He brought his highly polished boot back again, but put it down to regain his footing as Camille jumped on his back, her hands tightly around her throat.
John struggled to get her hands off of his neck, but finally did. "You wait your turn!" He told her, the back of his hand hitting her painfully across the cheek, making her stumble backwards. John turned to Thomas and kicked him a last time. With a scowl, he turned back to her, "But fine!" He yelled, whipping back to Camille, taking a blade from his boot.
His eyes stared at her coldly, as he began to storm towards her, a dark expression set across his face. "Very stupid thing to do, you wench!" John shouted, thrusting the blade at her. John's eyes widened in surprise as the blade didn't cut into Camille's flesh, but into Thomas's.
He had pushed Camille out of the way, taking the strike for himself.
The color seemed to instantly drain out of Thomas's face. His mouth hung open slightly in a surprised and shocked way. Thomas's hazel eyes were wide open, staring at Jonathan. Slowly Thomas looked down to the blade that was in his side. A sound came out of his mouth but it was unclear if it was just a sound, or if he was trying to say something. His mouth was moving slightly, but rapidly like he was trying to make sense of this.
Slowly, very slowly he lifted his eyes over to Camille who was still on her knees. She stared up at him with a hand over her mouth, her eyes brimming with tears. "T-t-tom..." Her voice called to him, shaking.
He was starting to slip down the post, but Jonathan held a firm hand on his shoulder, keeping him up. Thomas gazed at Camille, tears that he wasn't able to control were slowly dripping down his cheeks. He took a breath, and held it in for a moment, gathering up all the strength he could.
"I-I love-"
Thomas's words were stopped with his sudden gasp of pain and Jonathan quickly and tightly whipped the blade to the side.
"Thomas!" Camille shouted helplessly, finally pushing the numbness away at seeing his pain.
Jonathan turned his head over to Camille and raised his eyebrows in a challenging way. Without warning, he yanked the blade from Thomas's side, letting him drop to the floor. His cold blue eyes only stared down to him, without any type of emotion showing.
Camille crawled next to Thomas, cradling his head softly in her lap, pressing one of her hands against the deep, bloody wound. He stared up at Camille, struggling to keep his eyes opened. "I love you, Camille." Thomas told her, barely above a whisper.
"And I love you, Thomas...I forever will." She said in equally as quiet and low.
Thomas put on a weak smile as he gazed up into his wife's emerald green eyes. Those beautiful eyes. He tried to reach up his hand to her cheek, but could only lift his own arm an inch or two off of the ground. She bent her head down to his, so he could softly stroke her cheek. Camille closed her eyes tightly, trying to control the tears. Opening her eyes, she looked at his face for a second, before kissing his lips softly. Thomas lightly kissed her back and looked up to her again.
"I love you." Was all he mouthed. Though he tried with all of his might, all of the power he had in his body, his eyes closed.
Camille bit her bottom lip as she stared down to his handsome face. "No..." Was all she could manage, shaking her head "No... Thomas, please wake up."
She rested her lips against his forehead, "Please. Wake up."
"He won't, you do know that right?" Jonathan's voice made Camille jump. She'd forgotten he was there.
"LEAVE ME! JUST GO!" She screamed at him in anger.
A sickly smirk spread itself across his lips. "This is my ship, lass."
"Don't call me that! I'm not your lass! YOU KILLED MY HUSBAND!" Camille screamed at him as loud as her voice would go.
"If I were you, I wouldn't be getting that loud."
"Well your not me! I'll kill you for this!" She yelled, looking down to Thomas, moving away slowly, gently letting his head rest on the floor.
Camille looked over and quickly picked up Thomas's sword, glaring up to Jonathan with hatred. He only laughed at her. "A women's wrath!" John gave another laugh as if the whole idea was ridiculous and the funniest thing he'd ever heard of in all his years.
"Shut-up." She commanded him through gritted teeth, but he continued to laugh. "Shut-up!" Again, it had no effect.
In a swift motion, she was on her feet in front of him.
Jonathan glared, pulling his pistol from his belt. "Not a wise choice... Luckily, you'll now company your dead husband." He told he, putting it level with her head.
Camille didn't move, but only stood there, the sword an half an inch away from his stomach.
He pulled the trigger of the gun. Nothing happened, Camille still stood there. Again, he pulled it, and again the same effect.
"I believe you need bullets inside when you want to shoot someone. Never invite a hostage into your quarters every other night, but not pay any attention to them. Always keep your gun in hand... And a tip from me to you..."
She shoved the sword into his stomach, "Don't upset a lady of any kind... A women's wrath is something no one can beat. Including you." When she said this, she only pushed the sword with more force, then pulled it back, letting his body drop to the floor.
Camille stared down to him. Jonathan's face twisted in pain, his hands clapping over the wound. But only a few seconds later, his body became motionless, his blue eyes staring upwards in an unreadable way.
Slowly, she dropped the bloody sword to the ground, turning back to Thomas.
She lowered her body next to his, resting her head on his motionless chest, closing her eyes softly, "Don't worry, Thomas." Camille said gently, "Jonathan won't ever again be a bother."
Maybe it was hours, minutes, or only seconds later. But she could not rest with Thomas.
"Dear God..." Someone breathed, and Camille looked up to see James Norrington with Jack Sparrow following right behind.