Disclaimer: I don't own PotC and I'm not making any money off of this. Donations, however, are accepted.
I hate this dress, Elizabeth decided. The heavy, wine colored material felt stiff on her skin, and the cut was terrible on her. Long, fulsome skirts that nearly tripped her when she tried to walk. A low, tight bodice that she didn't bother to lace up because she knew it would create cleavage—and that was the last thing she wanted. Elizabeth scowled as she arranged her skirts. This was a whore's dress, and the captain undoubtedly knew it, too.
After what seemed like an age, a procession of pirates carrying silver trays came in and laid out the table with a small feast; suckling pig, eels, bread, wine…she lost count of all the foodstuffs as her stomach gave an involuntary growl. Barbossa was the last one to come in. The monkey on his shoulder bounded across the table onto it's perch, where it swung, chittering to itself. She turned slowly to face the man, glaring, her jaw set defiantly. "Maid or not, it suits you," he said, giving her a mocking half-smile, his jaundiced eyes glittering with humor. She scowled, not missing the double meaning in those words.