Disclaimer: I own nothing.
A/N: Evidently we're not supposed to respond to reviewers anymore, and this story has been removed from one too many times for my liking. So here's a simple thanks to my reviewers, I appreciate it so much!
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Elizabeth looked up, shocked, as Christina burst into her room and slammed the door behind her. She had hardly expected to be confronted by her sister so soon, but hardly anything was going as planned as it was. Elizabeth sighed from her place by the window, and reminded herself once again that she should stop expecting things to go as she wanted. Ever since the day Will had announced that he would take Christina as his wife instead of her, everything was going wrong. She had come to terms with the beginning of it, but any more surprises like that one and Elizabeth thought she would die far younger than her years promised.
It was easy to guess what it was that had Christina so upset. She had thought it would be left to her to break the truth about their parentage to Christina, and once again she hadn't expected her father to go through it so quickly, if at all. Elizabeth rubbed her temples tiredly, wishing a bit guiltily that Christina had stayed away just a while longer.
"I didn't know -"
"Rubbish! God, Elizabeth, it's not true, is it?" Christina demanded, her blue dress wrinkled and her hair finally coming out of its severe plaited coronet. She finally looked more like herself, and that put Elizabeth more at ease. A sister who was disheveled and overreacting was one that Elizabeth could handle, she was used to it. The strange woman that met Governor Swann and Elizabeth on the docks was something else entirely; the taciturn, upright, and reserved young woman who barely even flushed at the attention being paid to her was like a different species.
"Father told me shortly after you left. If things weren't so unstable, he probably would have never told us so I suppose this is your fault." Elizabeth's voice was light, she thought it clear that she was just jesting with her sister, but Christina's eyes flashed dangerously.
"Oh, of course. It's all my bloody fault again, Elizabeth, like always. I can't believe you. You haven't grown up a whit since I've been gone."
"I have grown up a great deal more than you know!" Elizabeth snapped, angry now. Mentally she chided herself - this was not how she had intended on repairing her relationship with her sister, after all. But, she thought, placating words hardly got through the thick skull of her twin, so maybe some unbridled emotion would get the point across better. "And if you ask me, it would do you some good to grow as well!"
"I have!" Christina roared back.
"Then for God's sake act like it!"
Both women glared viciously at each other, Christina's head tilted up just slightly to meet her sister's eyes, a fact which she resented. Elizabeth looked just as angry and determined not to back down, and to her surprise this seemed to register something with Christina. The latter's brow relaxed and she made her way cautiously into the room. Elizabeth noted how Christina had denied to ask permission to enter, but didn't flounce about as if she owned the place either. Then again, Elizabeth reminded herself, Christina had rarely flounced about the mansion that way. No, that was more often than not how I got around, Elizabeth sighed to herself. She stood up straighter and refused to feel bad for how she had acted. The past was passed, and there was no making excused for how she had behaved.
"Who is our real father, then?" Christina asked. Elizabeth shrugged wearily, walking away from the window and pulling the curtains closed, then walking as sedately as she could to light a candle held by a sconce on the wall.
"Father never found out who the man was, and Mother never saw fit to disclose it. She would have been mad to bring it up, anyway. I expect one does not speak of such things."
"What a terrible bedfellow that rift must have been," Christina remarked, and Elizabeth's eyes shot up to regard her sister.
"Quite," she said softly. She wanted to ask Christina all about her island marriage. Rather, she wanted to ask if it had been consummated; Elizabeth was bursting with a virgin's curiosity - or rather, the curiosity of an old maid, she thought morosely. Well into her prime and without a husband, in a few weeks time Elizabeth would be the topic of gossip among the matrons of Port Royal and everything about Christina's ordeal would probably be forgotten.
"I want terribly to know who my real father is," Christina said stoutly, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the door. Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "Our real father," she pointed out, a cynical amusement dripping into her voice that Christina for once caught on to.
"Oh, for heaven's sake, Lizzy, we both know that you were more Father's daughter than I ever was. Take how he greeted me, for example. If it were you coming home from weeks at sea, he would have organized a festival!"
"Do stop calling me that, Christina, you know I loath that nickname."
"Oh, rubbish, don't be ridiculous -"
"Fine, then. I shall call you Tina from now on. I suppose you'll be Tina Turner to me from now on."
Christina grinned suddenly, and caught herself in the act. Elizabeth raised both eyebrows at the look of surprise, and then skepticism, on her sister's face. She seemed incredulous at the possibility that they would have a conversation that didn't involve death threats.
"How did you take it, Liz? When he told you?" Christina's shock, like many things, wore off quickly. It seemed that Elizabeth wasn't the only one who had grown up some. It had taken them long enough, too.
"I was surprised, of course. But what can one do? We never met our real father, and to me he doesn't exist. I suppose I'm less curious by nature than you are, Christina," Elizabeth said this almost fondly, and both girl's shrugged uneasily as the tight-fitting feeling of sisterhood started to descend. It would take a long time to get used to, but it was starting, at least. Elizabeth didn't quite feel comfortable, but she felt accomplished in her task. The rest, she supposed, would go on its own from here.
"Well, I want to know who he is -"
"Good luck with that, then. I don't. The man in his study, smoking the pipe that reminds me of the stories he used to read us - that's my father. I don't need any other. That is the man that took care of me since I was born, no matter who our mother might have lain with first -"
"Oh, Elizabeth! Do not be so heartless! Don't you remember Mother at all? She used to tell us stories of her own design, stories about freedom and love. Did it ever occur to you that she was forced into marriage with Father when her heart belonged to someone else?"
"She left, Christina. Her love for her past was greater than her love for her daughters -"
"And you saw what Father forced her to be!" Christina would always stand by her adoration for the mother who had abandoned them, and Elizabeth could never truly see the sense in it. Her loyalty was to the father who had sheltered them and raised them, even though they were not his own.
"We could have just as easily ended up in an orphanage, disgraced as bastards -"
"Oh, grace. Bah! We would have been free. We couldn't have found Mother, she would have come for us if she heard. We would have been on the sea with her and the man she loved."
Elizabeth felt her anger piqued and took a deep breath to steady herself. "I know you must be angry with Father for how he greeted you this morning, and how he broke the news of our birth, but you must realize what a blessing he's been. He loves us, Christina, much more than Mother ever did; he never abandoned us -"
"But -"
"And we have been much more free than we would have been. The orphanage would have raised us to marry some peddler or another, and it would have hardly been our choice. If we refused, they would have put us out and we would have had to be governesses, barmaids, or worse. Father never forced either of us to marry -"
"Probably because he saw what it did to Mother!"
"Even so," Elizabeth said evenly, "it was good of him to keep us, and you know it. I love the memory of Mother just as dearly as you do, but I will not go on loving a woman who did not see fit to stand by her family. It was her duty -"
"And instead we were raised by a man who made us live in fear of what people would say if we behaved improperly!" Christina broke in, annoyed with how much sense her sister was making. Elizabeth held up her pale hands in acquiescence, her lips twisting in a smile.
"You were never afraid of what people would say of you, Christina. And even if you were, it never changed how you behaved." Christina bit her lip pondering this, a far-away look in her eyes that boasted of places Elizabeth had never seen and probably never would. Christina straightened up with a new gleam in her eyes, and a new shine to her face. She had figured out another argument, no doubt. Elizabeth was surprised that she seemed to be enjoying her sister's presence very much, now that Will Turner was out of the way.
"But you, look at how you grew up. You were the perfect lady to the skin of your teeth, Elizabeth. Were you happy that way?" Elizabeth shrugged uncomfortably; this was a matter which she wasn't very sure about herself. She certainly wasn't miserable her entire life. She did enjoy all the parties and the men who tried so hard to impress her. But, she thought, looking at Christina, there had always been something missing. Whether or not it could have been remedied with a stable relationship with her sister, Elizabeth didn't know, but there was always something in the way that kept her from being completely and truly happy for long stretches of her life. Christina took Elizabeth's silence for an answer, one which she seemed to favor.
"Ah! You see, you weren't happy -"
"If you want me to admit that Father wronged us, I wont. He is my father and I will always love him dearly. I'm sorry if you don't, and I think it would be unfair to him but I will not try to change your mind. To answer your question: I have never been miserable as long as Father has cared for us."
"But were you happy?"
"Were you?"
Christina opened her mouth to answer, and closed it abruptly. She seemed to need time to think of an answer, biting her lip again and leaning back against the door.
"Only when I was with Will."
"Well, there you go, I never had a Will Turner," Elizabeth said, her hands in her lap as she sat on her bed, wringing her hands that were sadly bare and ringless. She chanced a look at Christina's hands and sure enough there was a glinting ring on her third finger. Elizabeth felt a pang of loneliness so deep inside her that she wished she was years younger. She felt that she wouldn't even mind now if her father arranged a marriage for her, so long as she could come to love the man. As much as she asserted that Governor Swann was her father, she felt a void. Her mother gone, the man who fathered her she had never met, and now her sister - so long estranged - was married and ready to be part of new family; to start one. Elizabeth felt very alone but she sat up straighter and pushed it away. She was luckier than most to have her sister back, distant though they might be, and a father who loved her as much as any man could love his daughter.
"I'm sorry, Lizzy," Christina said, perhaps catching onto the loneliness that Elizabeth felt and sympathizing with it. "Even when Will was at his worst - talking about how beautiful you were, and how deeply he loved you - he could still make me feel happier than anyone I knew. If I was a good sister I would have brought you with me, but I wanted to keep him to myself."
"Understandable," Elizabeth said, although not without bitterness. "Who knows where we'd be now if you took me along?" Christina touched her shoulder absently, and then twisted the ring on her finger.
"Forgive me when I say that I don't want to think about it," she said with a grin. Elizabeth took her sister's hand in her own, puzzled at the difference in how they looked. Her own hand was pale and thin, soft and white like a lily petal. Christina's was a burnished golden and callused like a pirate's; like an island woman's hand. Yet they had come from the same mother, the same father, within moments of each other.
"I am really very happy for you," Elizabeth said softly, leaning her head tentatively on Christina's shoulder like a little girl. Christina smiled softly, feeling closer to Elizabeth than she ever had and marveling at it. She thought briefly of Elizabeth kissing Will and felt hurt, but not for the reason she used to. She felt hurt and guilty for all the years that she and Elizabeth had spent hating each other, angry that the years of misunderstanding had led up to such a moment when the two of them wanted to break the other's heart, and shatter the other's spirit. She was sure of Will's love for her now and knew that it was as real as the tattoo Naneth had painted on her; she was just as sure that whatever Elizabeth had felt for Will had faded into friendliness only, if not outright neutrality.
"I know, Lizzy."
She wasn't sure how she knew, but she did.
1.
Elizabeth and I stayed up all night talking. She wanted to know of all the adventures that I had had since I left, her eyes glittering as she imagined everything I described. She was fascinated with Laurelyn, and made me tell her again and again how she and Jack were in love and yet not married. She admired how Laurelyn wouldn't leave her father on Tortuga to follow Jack (I imagine it struck a particular chord with her, one that I tried but couldn't fathom) and how she ran her own pub and dress shop.
She was also interested in my induction into the island and the people's way of life. I got up and ran out of the room to show her the dresses that they had given me - the dress of the island maidens, which Elizabeth found beautiful, if scandalous ("Their maidens where this? Why, how do they stay maidens, then?") - and the bridal gown ("Christina, it's practically transparent! Did Will see you in this?"). When I showed her the dress of the island matrons, I expected her to brush it off and continue marveling at the shells on the bridal gown, but she didn't.
"Not even Mrs. Dawson can do embroidery this fine. Oh, it's so lovely, Christina. A pity you can't wear it here," she said softly, running her hands over the soft fabric and then looking up at me with a question in her eyes.
"Try it on, if you like," I suggested, and she practically danced with glee. After all her well-thought out arguments of earlier, I was glad that I could finally like the older sister, even if I was only a minute older at that. Elizabeth leapt off the bed and pulled her frock off with more enthusiasm and less gentleness than I had ever seen before. She pulled the island dress on over her shift and looked into the mirror eagerly.
"Oh," she said disappointedly.
"What's wrong?"
"It's too big on me," she whined, pulling it tighter around the middle to no avail. I laughed at her lack of tact. "Probably because it's supposed to fit women who are with child," I said. She spun around to look at me, and I felt my face heat. This was one thing that I did not wish to talk to Elizabeth about, repaired bridges or not.
"Christina!" she said in a hushed voice. "Are you expecting a child?" At least she had the sense to whisper. She hurried back over to me and glanced at the door to make sure it was properly shut.
I shifted my shoulders uneasily, but it was only when she fell to her knees in front of me and took my hands again saying, "Please, tell me. I won't hold it against you at all, I promise. In fact, I'd be overjoyed for you, honestly. And I won't tell a soul - I'll help you plan a speedy wedding!" that I decided it would be alright to tell her.
"The truth is, Elizabeth, I don't know -"
"Well have you - that is, have you and Will - well, what I mean to say is -"
"We have," I said simply, laughing at the look of shock on her face. Her jaw dropped and her eyes were glittering, if I'm not mistaken, almost enviously. Not the reaction I was expecting, of course, and probably not one I was hoping for.
"Well," she said softly. "You have grown up more than me!"
"Oh, don't be a ninny! Buck up. We'll find you a husband soon, I promise." Elizabeth looked doubtful, and for once I wanted to cheer her up not revel in her envy. Probably for the first time. "You're very pretty, for such an old lady. Well preserved for your age, I'd say. The boys'll be lined up around the island for you, no doubt."
"Oh, hush! You're older than me!"
"Only by a minute, Lizzy. And I'm married," I pointed out. She stuck her tongue out at me and clamored onto the bed after pulling the island dress off. She decided then to try on the maidens' dress instead, pulling her shift off after darting behind the screen bashfully. No matter how many times I told her that she had nothing to be ashamed of, and that the island women bathed in groups in the big lagoon, she was still snootily upholding English propriety and bashfulness. I shrugged and let her do as she pleased, getting out of my heavy dress and pulling on the matrons' dress. It was the most comfortable nightgown I'd ever worn.
Elizabeth clamored into her big bed and when I turned to leave, she grabbed my arm. "Stay, Christina. Tell me more about everything you've seen, please. The only places I've been with pirates - well, they're not as fondly remembered."
I stayed and we fell asleep at dawn, two little island sisters resting in a grand Port Royal mansion, tentative friends again after a decade.
1.
Things passed quickly after Elizabeth and I befriended each other again. The deed to the smithy made it Will's shop officially, and for two weeks I hardly saw him except when he came to call at dinner. The months he'd spent away from the shop added up to a lot of orders he had to catch up on, and so he was very busy.
I would have missed him, except I was busy myself. Elizabeth was true to her word and helping me every way she could to plan a discreetly speedy wedding. I repaid her by going everywhere with her so as to slow the tide of gossip that surrounded us. Obviously it was less interesting for people to talk about if Elizabeth and I were on good terms with each other, although a few of the rich young girls we knew still snapped open fans to hide behind, tittering away when we passed. Mrs. Dawson couldn't deal with their stupidity, and had even kicked a few of them out of her shop while I was searching for a wedding dress. Island clothing has spoiled me, and every dress I tried on was either too tight or too itchy for me to want as my wedding dress. Finally, Elizabeth had decided I should just have one commissioned.
"White satin," she said firmly, and I rolled my eyes. "Do remember that it is my wedding you are helping to plan, Lizzy. Creamy satin, Mrs. Dawson, if you please."
"Lace trimmings on the neck and sleeves."
"No lace, thank you. Honestly, Elizabeth!"
"Rubies and diamonds. And silver, lots of it. A tiara, perhaps?"
"Pearls and gold, if you would be so kind, Mrs. Dawson. Out you go, Elizabeth! Please, Mrs. Dawson, you'll have it done in a week?"
"I certainly will try my best, Miss Swann. Oh, I do remember when you two arrived here, ten years ago. You were so thin and scrawny, Christina. You certainly have bloomed, dearie. Your sister is still tall and thin, I do wish you'd eat some more, Miss Elizabeth," Mrs. Dawson blubbered into an embroidered handkerchief. I smiled bleakly.
"Thank you, Mrs. Dawson. You are too kind," I said. Elizabeth grinned.
"Oy, Jerome! Git out here, boy, I've got a delivery for you to make. Those air headed Templeton girls commissioned four new ball gowns a month back, can you believe it? Four! Took me all this time to make them and if that useless boy ever gets here, he'll relay to them that I'll be too busy to be bothered with their orders for a while. Oh, a wedding! There hasn't been a wedding at Port Royal since…"
Mrs. Dawson was blathering on dizzily when her son, Jerome, entered from the back. His sandy hair was as wavy as ever, yet he managed to pull off the shining looks with the rumpled grace of a sailor. I much preferred Will's dark locks. Jerome's green eyes were glinting with mirth as he looked first to my sister, I noticed, and then to me. I greatly preferred Will's dark eyes, too, but seeing Jerome made me grin all the same.
"Why, Miss Swann! It's so good to see you again. I hope you enjoyed your rendezvous!" he said, his teeth glinting cheekily as his eyes flicked to Elizabeth once more. She scowled at him.
"Well, Jerome Dawson. Still the same trouble making wanker, I see," I said. Jerome roared with laughter while Mrs. Dawson looked scandalized at my choice of words. Oh, dear. I wasn't aboard the Pearl anymore, it seemed.
Elizabeth still looked sour, her dark eyes flashing nastily in Jerome's direction. I would have to ask her later what had passed between them. From the look on Jerome's face, he was quite smitten with Elizabeth. Perhaps I needn't look so far to find my dearest sister a husband. She'd need someone with a good sense of humor, and if Jerome was flawed in all else he at least had a sense of humor.
"You must tell me, Miss Christina - is it true that you didn't just run off with the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow, but you also eloped?"
"Jerome Dawson you base creature!" Elizabeth shrieked.
"How dare you, Jerome; you apologize this instant!" Mrs. Dawson said, looking intrigued beneath her feigned anger. She whapped her son with a dress comb she was using to get the last of the lint of a yard of fine fabric.
"Please, Mrs. Dawson, Elizabeth. Jerome Dawson, you disappoint me. I wouldn't think you would be taken in by such gossip!" I said airily, sweeping out of the dress shop and heading to the florist to put in an order for the finest flowers Port Royal had to offer.