The Oldest Story in the Book
Chapter 8
Disclaimer: Pearl is mine. And Disney can't have her. I take that back. If they get rid of Michael Eisner (i.e. the money-hungry warper of Walt's dream) for good then I'll give her to them almost free of charge.
Author's Note: I am really sorry this took so long. I wrote the thing and was not happy with it at all. Rest assured that it is not much truer to my characters, and considerably longer than it was. Thanks again to pendragginink for putting me on the right track–I'd be lost without you.. Please don't kill me. I really do feel badly that it took so long.
Norrington sighed as he climbed the stone steps to the edge of the Fort. It was quiet up here, and commanded a beautiful view of the sea. No one ever came here this late, even the town drunks. Too close to the gallows, Norrington suspected. There were ghost stories attached to the place, but he was far too practical to believe them. Besides, he himself had never met anything unnatural in the place. Well, aside from Jack, who was as unnatural as any living being had ever been.
He was startled when the moonlight outlined a shape sitting on the stones, gazing out to sea. They were sitting with their feet dangling down over the sea, their back to him. Their shoes sat next to them. A boy, judging by the short-chopped hair the sea breeze brushed back from his face.
Norrington paused, carefully considering whether or not to disturb the person. He was obviously deeply engrossed in his own thoughts if he hadn't heard the click of the Commodore's boots. And if the boy were troubled perhaps he could help.
Norrington moved, placing one foot on the low wall the boy sat on and leaned forward to gaze at his face. He was startled to find it wasn't a lad, but a woman holding a wig in her hands.
"Pearl?" he asked in surprise.
She turned toward with a gasp. "Oh, Edward, it's you." She turned quickly away from him to wipe her face with her hands, but not before he caught the moonlight reflected on the moisture tracking down her cheeks.
"What's wrong?" He moved her shoes to sit next to her. "Is Emmie all right?"
"Fine," Pearl answered, voice suddenly steady and strong as she turned back to him. "Better than fine. Perfect. Well-adjusted. Learned."
"Then what's made you cry?"
"I wasn't crying," she said quickly. Too quickly, even if he hadn't known better.
He signed and rolled his eyes as he moved to sit next to her, her shoes and the chill Caribbean air the only thing between. "What happened to not lying to me?"
She gazed out at the sea for long moments, as if considering whether to continue the lie. Norrington sat quietly. He knew from experience that pressing a frightened horse only drove them from you faster. The same rules applied to skittish pirate women.
Finally she sighed. "Bloody hell. Every man on the sea would claim I'm as mysterious as the Congo. Why can't you be equally clueless? Or at least pretend to be?"
"I'm a Commodore," he told her. "I don't have the excuse of ignorance." He fell silent again. It was a strong weapon against this woman.
"You know, I never let people see me cry," she informed him.
"I suppose I should feel privileged," he replied, letting her get off topic if it eased her mind. He would steer her back eventually.
"I may have to kill you for the privilege." There was no real threat in the statement, no bite to the words. Just a tired pirate trying to defend herself the only way she knew while wandering in unfamiliar territory.
"I won't tell a soul," he promised, a half-smile tugging at that corner of his mouth.
"I thought you and Maggie had no secrets between you."
He regarded her carefully as he considered a response. He was treading on quicksand, and he knew it. "Maggie's the other half of my soul. She wouldn't judge you any more than I would." She didn't respond, just continued to gaze out at the ocean. "Really, I'm pleased to find that you can cry. I was starting to wonder. I thought perhaps I'd gotten mixed up with an Aztec goddess. I've heard rumors that Pearl Sparrow is a ghost."
"No, no. I'm hopelessly mortal," Pearl said with a sigh as if that were the worst curse she could imagine having visited on herself.
"So what could possibly cause the infamous Pearl Sparrow to cry?" His tone was light and teasing.
She shook her head, eyes fixed on the ocean rolling out before her. "You have a strength to you, Edward, that I'll never know. I envy you that. How do you do it?"
He was completely baffled. But then, Pearl had that effect on him. "Do what?"
"See Emmie, every day, and know she doesn't know who you are but-" Pearl cut off there. She shook her head. "I don't know why I'm making such a fuss. I knew she wouldn't remember. Had hoped she wouldn't. I mean, the plan worked."
He found himself studying the sea, trying to find the words. "It's easier for me, I think. She's never known who I was so I don't expect it. And I'm her father, not her mother. It's a different connection. And she does rely on me, and trusts me. She calls me uncle. In many ways she behaves as if I were her father. And I have Ethan."
"And Maggie," Pearl put in.
"And you have Marden. And Jack. And Annamaria. The whole crew of the ship. The sea itself. You're her mother, Pearl, and you brought her here because you knew it was best for her. And you're braving this pain to see to it that she continues to be taken care of properly. It doesn't make you weaker as a person, feeling this pain. It makes you a better mother. The fact that you can weather this, for her sake. I'm not certain I could do it. In fact, I'm fairly certain I couldn't." He brushed the hair away from her face as she continued to silently stare at the ocean. "If I could fix it, I would. If there were an easy answer or-"
"I know," she said, a note of finality in her voice.
Norrington took that as an invitation to change the subject. Clearing his throat he said, "Maggie said the two of you had a good conversation this afternoon."
"When did she tell you that?" Pearl asked. She straightened, her back suddenly stiff as she ran a hand through her hair. He sighed. He had hoped to get through a conversation without her donning the emotional armor she hid behind so often.
"She stopped by the office with my dinner."
"And what did she say?"
"That if she dies I'm to marry you, even if I have to tie you up and drag you down the aisle. By the hair."
Pearl snorted. "As if you could."
"That's what I told her. You don't have enough hair to get a good hold on anyway." They both laughed. "You know, I was a little surprised when you turned up with Emmie." He cleared his throat and shifted. He couldn't believe he was going to say this. But if Pearl was going to show him this tortured part of her soul it seemed the least he could do to bare a piece of his. "The thought had actually crossed my mind, us having a child."
Pearl's head snapped up to look at him, moonlight reflecting in eyes large with shock. "It did?"
He nodded. "Fantasized, is probably more what I did. I never really considered it was possible. I'd heard that prostitutes have a brew they take to lose pregnancies they don't want. I thought surely your mother would have taught you how to make it."
Pearl returned her eyes to the sea, the orbs so hard and flat he knew he had touched a nerve. "They do, and she did. I've taken it before."
"But you didn't take it this time."
"No, I didn't."
"Why not?" His heart beat just a bit too fast as he suspected an answer, unsure of even what he wanted her response to be.
"I thought maybe it was time for me to have a baby."
Norrington sighed. Reaching over he turned her face, forcing her eyes to meet his. "Even if I didn't know you, Pearl, I'd know that was a lie. You brought the girl to live here. You couldn't even raise her. Which is eating you alive now, by the way. Please, tell me the truth."
The wig turned in her hands. "I was going to. For months I was going to. I made the brew. Bitter stuff. I just sat there staring at it." She shrugged, discomfort thinly veiled by unconvincing indifference. "Diamond finally came in and took it way from me, told me not to be stupid."
Norrington stared at her as silence wrapped around them. She was leaving out the most important part, and he wasn't certain how to get her to say it without starting an argument that had to potential to drive her away. But he needed an answer. "Why would Diamond say you were stupid?"
Pearl shrugged again. "I couldn't kill what was growing in me."
"Why not?"
"I'm a woman, Edward. It isn't that simple."
"You said you'd taken it before. Why was it 'that simple' then?"
Pearl looked back out to the sea. 'Check,' he thought.
She opened her mouth several times as if to speak, then seemed to think better of it. Finally she sighed. "You were marrying and all I had of you, all I would ever have of you, was this. It was a piece of us. The both of us. I couldn't throw away the last piece of you I might have had. I couldn't kill our child." She threw the wig down on top of her shoes. "Happy?"
"Yes." She gathered her skirt, turning to leave, but he caught her arm. He was not going to let her storm off in a huff. Not this time. "You were lucky, Pearl. You had a piece of us. I was left with nothing but memories. Do you think that didn't hurt me? Do you think I didn't long for you as you did me? That I still don't?"
"You seem to have done well enough," she pointed out, tugging experimentally at the arm that held her. He refused to give.
"I was going to say the same about you," he shot back. "How long was it before you were back in Marden's arms? Or harassing that lad at the tavern in Tortuga that sails with your brother? Or any of the other random men I don't know about? Do you think I'm ignorant of these things?" He stood when she tried to pull away again, stepping away from the ledge onto the relative safety of the firm stone.
He took her other arm in his hand, ignoring her wince although he filed it away to ask about later. He had to focus on the task at hand. "Do you think I don't wonder, every time I capture a pirate and find him studying me, if he's one of yours? If he's measuring himself against me? Can you imagine how that feels?"
"I don't have to imagine," she hissed at him. "I do it, every time I'm in your wife's presence. And I may take on a hundred of them, but they're all exactly what you named them. Random men. None are mine forever. I've given them no oath that keeps us apart."
Norrington narrowed his eyes and glared at her. "It isn't my vow to Maggie that kept us apart, that still keeps us apart. You did a fine job of pushing me away all on your own, long before either of us knew my wife. And when that didn't work you ran. I was there, Pearl."
She seemed to wilt in his grip. Suddenly she wasn't giving the half-hearted tugs to escape. All of the fire went out of her eyes and her head dropped. "You're right." He could hardly believe he was hearing this out of Pearl's mouth. She stepped easily out of his slack grasp, walking over to lean against the wall and return her eyes to the sea. "This is my doing, and I had best learn to live with it."
"I didn't say that," Norrington put in. He walked up carefully behind her, regretting losing his temper. Ordinarily he kept his anger in tight check. He was a Commodore after all. What was it about her that brought it out in him?
"You did say it, but if you hadn't it would make it no less true." She sighed heavily. "Be glad I've pushed you away, Edward. I'm far more trouble than I'm worth. You deserve much better. You deserve Maggie, and she you."
He didn't know how to respond to that. He wanted to contradict her, but was unsure how to do it without insulting himself and his wife. "We would have been happy, Pearl."
She shook her head, sitting back down in her previous spot, a forced smile crossing her face. "No, we would have been miserable. It's a good thing we didn't end up together. Not just because I'm trouble and all the obvious reasons. We would have started wars, the way we fight. The servants would run for cover whenever we were in the same room."
"I'd wager you'd win the majority," Norrington said, settling next to her.
"I'd agree."
He burst out laughing. "You would." Calming down he turned to find Pearl staring at him with a smile on her face. "What?" he asked.
"Your skin crinkles next to your eyes when you smile. It's adorable. I had forgotten."
"What, that I'm old?" he asked with a chuckle.
Pearl shook her head. "Wrinkles don't mean you're old. They come from time out in the sun. They're like callouses. Means you work for a living."
"Says who?"
"Nikko."
"Who's Nikko?"
"My oldest and dearest friend," Pearl said. "She's a gypsy. Aztec blood runs strong in her."
"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Norrington asked. Pearl laughed. "Maggie said that you told her you love me."
Pearl stopped laughing, staring at him, eyes wide. "I'm going to have to stop talking to that girl."
"Did you mean it?" he asked, careful to keep the accusation out of his voice.
"I've repeatedly told the two of you I won't lie to her," Pearl said. Reaching over Pearl snatched up her wig and smoothed the rumpled hair in her hands. "I don't know how you can stand to wear these all the time. They're too hot. I like to feel the wind in my hair."
He laughed. Reaching up he pulled the pins from his hair and removed the wig. Pearl grinned up at him. "Much better. You have some powder, just here." She reached up to brush the powder from the skin by his eyes. He found himself unconsciously leaning into the touch. She froze, staring up at him.
"I've missed you, Pearl."
"Edward," she whispered. "You better not." She didn't turn away, but didn't move forward either. She hovered there, his lips millimeters from hers.
"Why not?" he asked, little more than a sigh.
"Because if you start I won't be able to stop."
He sighed and nodded, drawing away, refusing the electricity that ran through him. "It isn't fair."
"No, it isn't."
"I'm sorry."
"For what?" Pearl asked.
"Marrying Maggie. If I had known-"
"I told you to marry her," Pearl said, just this side of snapping. "I wanted you to have someone. Regrets don't change that."
"So you do have regrets?"
She nodded. "I don't let them eat at me. Are you happy?"
"Of course."
"Can you imagine a life without Maggie?"
He smiled fondly. "No."
"Do you love her?"
"Fiercely."
A smile tugged a Pearl's lips. "Then I'm glad you married her. Don't you dare ever apologize to me again."
He laughed, reaching over to wrap an arm around her shoulders. "You're a good woman, Pearl."
"Bah! Not so loud," she ordered. "You'll ruin my reputation. I'll never be able to step on a pirate ship again."
He laughed again. "I should get home," he said regretfully. "We'll start rumors."
"Wouldn't want that," Pearl said sarcastically. "Leastwise not when we've done nothing to earn the rumor."
"May I walk you home?" he asked as they exited the fort. "It is late."
"Nay. THAT would start rumors. I manage around the streets of Tortuga. I dare say I'll manage here. Besides, I hear there's a ruthless Commodore around here that hangs scoundrels that would assault a Lady."
"What about pirate hussies from Tortuga?"
"Oh, this Commodore is terribly charming. He'd insist she be called a Lady and hang them all the same," she said.
He laughed as he helped her to her feet. She hissed suddenly, rolling her left shoulder. "Are you all right?" he asked.
"Aye, old complaints. Don't fuss." He thought immediately of the scars marring her back, and studied her carefully. The way she carried herself hadn't changed, so it couldn't be unbearably painful or life threatening. And he knew from experience if she said it was nothing she wouldn't let him do a thing. Pushing the issue would only start another argument. Still, concern registered in his eyes, and he silently vowed to keep a closer eye on her.
"Good night, Pearl," he said, kissing her cheek. "And, for the record, I love you too."
She paused and nodded. "Thank you. Good night."
It was a short trip home for the Commodore. He endured a lecture from the housekeeper for coming in so late before she would surrender a candle and allow him to go up to his room.
He entered quietly and began undressing. He had gotten down to his breeches and thin white undershirt when the whisper of cloth alerted him that his wife was awake. He turned to find her sitting up in bed. "You're late," she remarked.
"I'm sorry. Scads of paper work, you know. And then I found Pearl sitting on the Fort crying, if you believe that."
Maggie's head snapped up at the mention of Pearl's name. "Crying over what?"
"Emmie. Her not recognizing her mother is tearing Pearl apart."
Maggie stood and crossed the room to stand near him. He watched her curiously. His wife was acting very oddly. She usually waited in bed for him to join her before cuddling close and whispering the day's events into his ear. "Did anything else happen?"
He thought carefully back over the conversation. "I told her you'd talked to me. Told me she loved me. She isn't very happy with you, but I dare say she'll live. Is something the matter?"
"That depends. Did you kiss her?"
"No," he answered. "Maggie, dear, I love you. I thought you knew you didn't have to worry about this."
"Did you want to?"
"Kiss her?" he hedged. Maggie nodded.
Just once he wished he could lie to his wife. But he had made himself a promise that he would never lie to her, and he knew if he started breaking it now it would be harder to draw the line next time.
"Yes." He stood stalk still as his wife stepped closer. Her eyes, usually sparkling with life, were hard as they regarded him. "Maggie, are you jealous?"
She was nearly on top of him now. A hair's breadth separated them as she stared deep into his eyes. "What do I have to be jealous of? You are mine, Edward." Suddenly her delicate fingers were clenched into fists, taking firm control of his shirt to pull him forward and down. Her lips were on his, demanding and fierce.
He blinked at her when she released him. Maggie had always been a willing and capable lover. But he had never seen her like this. Well, at least not when he hadn't just returned from a long voyage. "Maggie, are you all right?"
"Let's find out, shall we?" she asked. Retaining firm control of his shirt she pulled him backward toward the bed.
Author's Note: Okay, so it's not that long. But it was a challenge to write. Which is my favorite part to write. Once again, sorry it took so long to get up. Hopefully the next one won't take as long. Until then, ta
Chapter 8
Disclaimer: Pearl is mine. And Disney can't have her. I take that back. If they get rid of Michael Eisner (i.e. the money-hungry warper of Walt's dream) for good then I'll give her to them almost free of charge.
Author's Note: I am really sorry this took so long. I wrote the thing and was not happy with it at all. Rest assured that it is not much truer to my characters, and considerably longer than it was. Thanks again to pendragginink for putting me on the right track–I'd be lost without you.. Please don't kill me. I really do feel badly that it took so long.
Norrington sighed as he climbed the stone steps to the edge of the Fort. It was quiet up here, and commanded a beautiful view of the sea. No one ever came here this late, even the town drunks. Too close to the gallows, Norrington suspected. There were ghost stories attached to the place, but he was far too practical to believe them. Besides, he himself had never met anything unnatural in the place. Well, aside from Jack, who was as unnatural as any living being had ever been.
He was startled when the moonlight outlined a shape sitting on the stones, gazing out to sea. They were sitting with their feet dangling down over the sea, their back to him. Their shoes sat next to them. A boy, judging by the short-chopped hair the sea breeze brushed back from his face.
Norrington paused, carefully considering whether or not to disturb the person. He was obviously deeply engrossed in his own thoughts if he hadn't heard the click of the Commodore's boots. And if the boy were troubled perhaps he could help.
Norrington moved, placing one foot on the low wall the boy sat on and leaned forward to gaze at his face. He was startled to find it wasn't a lad, but a woman holding a wig in her hands.
"Pearl?" he asked in surprise.
She turned toward with a gasp. "Oh, Edward, it's you." She turned quickly away from him to wipe her face with her hands, but not before he caught the moonlight reflected on the moisture tracking down her cheeks.
"What's wrong?" He moved her shoes to sit next to her. "Is Emmie all right?"
"Fine," Pearl answered, voice suddenly steady and strong as she turned back to him. "Better than fine. Perfect. Well-adjusted. Learned."
"Then what's made you cry?"
"I wasn't crying," she said quickly. Too quickly, even if he hadn't known better.
He signed and rolled his eyes as he moved to sit next to her, her shoes and the chill Caribbean air the only thing between. "What happened to not lying to me?"
She gazed out at the sea for long moments, as if considering whether to continue the lie. Norrington sat quietly. He knew from experience that pressing a frightened horse only drove them from you faster. The same rules applied to skittish pirate women.
Finally she sighed. "Bloody hell. Every man on the sea would claim I'm as mysterious as the Congo. Why can't you be equally clueless? Or at least pretend to be?"
"I'm a Commodore," he told her. "I don't have the excuse of ignorance." He fell silent again. It was a strong weapon against this woman.
"You know, I never let people see me cry," she informed him.
"I suppose I should feel privileged," he replied, letting her get off topic if it eased her mind. He would steer her back eventually.
"I may have to kill you for the privilege." There was no real threat in the statement, no bite to the words. Just a tired pirate trying to defend herself the only way she knew while wandering in unfamiliar territory.
"I won't tell a soul," he promised, a half-smile tugging at that corner of his mouth.
"I thought you and Maggie had no secrets between you."
He regarded her carefully as he considered a response. He was treading on quicksand, and he knew it. "Maggie's the other half of my soul. She wouldn't judge you any more than I would." She didn't respond, just continued to gaze out at the ocean. "Really, I'm pleased to find that you can cry. I was starting to wonder. I thought perhaps I'd gotten mixed up with an Aztec goddess. I've heard rumors that Pearl Sparrow is a ghost."
"No, no. I'm hopelessly mortal," Pearl said with a sigh as if that were the worst curse she could imagine having visited on herself.
"So what could possibly cause the infamous Pearl Sparrow to cry?" His tone was light and teasing.
She shook her head, eyes fixed on the ocean rolling out before her. "You have a strength to you, Edward, that I'll never know. I envy you that. How do you do it?"
He was completely baffled. But then, Pearl had that effect on him. "Do what?"
"See Emmie, every day, and know she doesn't know who you are but-" Pearl cut off there. She shook her head. "I don't know why I'm making such a fuss. I knew she wouldn't remember. Had hoped she wouldn't. I mean, the plan worked."
He found himself studying the sea, trying to find the words. "It's easier for me, I think. She's never known who I was so I don't expect it. And I'm her father, not her mother. It's a different connection. And she does rely on me, and trusts me. She calls me uncle. In many ways she behaves as if I were her father. And I have Ethan."
"And Maggie," Pearl put in.
"And you have Marden. And Jack. And Annamaria. The whole crew of the ship. The sea itself. You're her mother, Pearl, and you brought her here because you knew it was best for her. And you're braving this pain to see to it that she continues to be taken care of properly. It doesn't make you weaker as a person, feeling this pain. It makes you a better mother. The fact that you can weather this, for her sake. I'm not certain I could do it. In fact, I'm fairly certain I couldn't." He brushed the hair away from her face as she continued to silently stare at the ocean. "If I could fix it, I would. If there were an easy answer or-"
"I know," she said, a note of finality in her voice.
Norrington took that as an invitation to change the subject. Clearing his throat he said, "Maggie said the two of you had a good conversation this afternoon."
"When did she tell you that?" Pearl asked. She straightened, her back suddenly stiff as she ran a hand through her hair. He sighed. He had hoped to get through a conversation without her donning the emotional armor she hid behind so often.
"She stopped by the office with my dinner."
"And what did she say?"
"That if she dies I'm to marry you, even if I have to tie you up and drag you down the aisle. By the hair."
Pearl snorted. "As if you could."
"That's what I told her. You don't have enough hair to get a good hold on anyway." They both laughed. "You know, I was a little surprised when you turned up with Emmie." He cleared his throat and shifted. He couldn't believe he was going to say this. But if Pearl was going to show him this tortured part of her soul it seemed the least he could do to bare a piece of his. "The thought had actually crossed my mind, us having a child."
Pearl's head snapped up to look at him, moonlight reflecting in eyes large with shock. "It did?"
He nodded. "Fantasized, is probably more what I did. I never really considered it was possible. I'd heard that prostitutes have a brew they take to lose pregnancies they don't want. I thought surely your mother would have taught you how to make it."
Pearl returned her eyes to the sea, the orbs so hard and flat he knew he had touched a nerve. "They do, and she did. I've taken it before."
"But you didn't take it this time."
"No, I didn't."
"Why not?" His heart beat just a bit too fast as he suspected an answer, unsure of even what he wanted her response to be.
"I thought maybe it was time for me to have a baby."
Norrington sighed. Reaching over he turned her face, forcing her eyes to meet his. "Even if I didn't know you, Pearl, I'd know that was a lie. You brought the girl to live here. You couldn't even raise her. Which is eating you alive now, by the way. Please, tell me the truth."
The wig turned in her hands. "I was going to. For months I was going to. I made the brew. Bitter stuff. I just sat there staring at it." She shrugged, discomfort thinly veiled by unconvincing indifference. "Diamond finally came in and took it way from me, told me not to be stupid."
Norrington stared at her as silence wrapped around them. She was leaving out the most important part, and he wasn't certain how to get her to say it without starting an argument that had to potential to drive her away. But he needed an answer. "Why would Diamond say you were stupid?"
Pearl shrugged again. "I couldn't kill what was growing in me."
"Why not?"
"I'm a woman, Edward. It isn't that simple."
"You said you'd taken it before. Why was it 'that simple' then?"
Pearl looked back out to the sea. 'Check,' he thought.
She opened her mouth several times as if to speak, then seemed to think better of it. Finally she sighed. "You were marrying and all I had of you, all I would ever have of you, was this. It was a piece of us. The both of us. I couldn't throw away the last piece of you I might have had. I couldn't kill our child." She threw the wig down on top of her shoes. "Happy?"
"Yes." She gathered her skirt, turning to leave, but he caught her arm. He was not going to let her storm off in a huff. Not this time. "You were lucky, Pearl. You had a piece of us. I was left with nothing but memories. Do you think that didn't hurt me? Do you think I didn't long for you as you did me? That I still don't?"
"You seem to have done well enough," she pointed out, tugging experimentally at the arm that held her. He refused to give.
"I was going to say the same about you," he shot back. "How long was it before you were back in Marden's arms? Or harassing that lad at the tavern in Tortuga that sails with your brother? Or any of the other random men I don't know about? Do you think I'm ignorant of these things?" He stood when she tried to pull away again, stepping away from the ledge onto the relative safety of the firm stone.
He took her other arm in his hand, ignoring her wince although he filed it away to ask about later. He had to focus on the task at hand. "Do you think I don't wonder, every time I capture a pirate and find him studying me, if he's one of yours? If he's measuring himself against me? Can you imagine how that feels?"
"I don't have to imagine," she hissed at him. "I do it, every time I'm in your wife's presence. And I may take on a hundred of them, but they're all exactly what you named them. Random men. None are mine forever. I've given them no oath that keeps us apart."
Norrington narrowed his eyes and glared at her. "It isn't my vow to Maggie that kept us apart, that still keeps us apart. You did a fine job of pushing me away all on your own, long before either of us knew my wife. And when that didn't work you ran. I was there, Pearl."
She seemed to wilt in his grip. Suddenly she wasn't giving the half-hearted tugs to escape. All of the fire went out of her eyes and her head dropped. "You're right." He could hardly believe he was hearing this out of Pearl's mouth. She stepped easily out of his slack grasp, walking over to lean against the wall and return her eyes to the sea. "This is my doing, and I had best learn to live with it."
"I didn't say that," Norrington put in. He walked up carefully behind her, regretting losing his temper. Ordinarily he kept his anger in tight check. He was a Commodore after all. What was it about her that brought it out in him?
"You did say it, but if you hadn't it would make it no less true." She sighed heavily. "Be glad I've pushed you away, Edward. I'm far more trouble than I'm worth. You deserve much better. You deserve Maggie, and she you."
He didn't know how to respond to that. He wanted to contradict her, but was unsure how to do it without insulting himself and his wife. "We would have been happy, Pearl."
She shook her head, sitting back down in her previous spot, a forced smile crossing her face. "No, we would have been miserable. It's a good thing we didn't end up together. Not just because I'm trouble and all the obvious reasons. We would have started wars, the way we fight. The servants would run for cover whenever we were in the same room."
"I'd wager you'd win the majority," Norrington said, settling next to her.
"I'd agree."
He burst out laughing. "You would." Calming down he turned to find Pearl staring at him with a smile on her face. "What?" he asked.
"Your skin crinkles next to your eyes when you smile. It's adorable. I had forgotten."
"What, that I'm old?" he asked with a chuckle.
Pearl shook her head. "Wrinkles don't mean you're old. They come from time out in the sun. They're like callouses. Means you work for a living."
"Says who?"
"Nikko."
"Who's Nikko?"
"My oldest and dearest friend," Pearl said. "She's a gypsy. Aztec blood runs strong in her."
"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Norrington asked. Pearl laughed. "Maggie said that you told her you love me."
Pearl stopped laughing, staring at him, eyes wide. "I'm going to have to stop talking to that girl."
"Did you mean it?" he asked, careful to keep the accusation out of his voice.
"I've repeatedly told the two of you I won't lie to her," Pearl said. Reaching over Pearl snatched up her wig and smoothed the rumpled hair in her hands. "I don't know how you can stand to wear these all the time. They're too hot. I like to feel the wind in my hair."
He laughed. Reaching up he pulled the pins from his hair and removed the wig. Pearl grinned up at him. "Much better. You have some powder, just here." She reached up to brush the powder from the skin by his eyes. He found himself unconsciously leaning into the touch. She froze, staring up at him.
"I've missed you, Pearl."
"Edward," she whispered. "You better not." She didn't turn away, but didn't move forward either. She hovered there, his lips millimeters from hers.
"Why not?" he asked, little more than a sigh.
"Because if you start I won't be able to stop."
He sighed and nodded, drawing away, refusing the electricity that ran through him. "It isn't fair."
"No, it isn't."
"I'm sorry."
"For what?" Pearl asked.
"Marrying Maggie. If I had known-"
"I told you to marry her," Pearl said, just this side of snapping. "I wanted you to have someone. Regrets don't change that."
"So you do have regrets?"
She nodded. "I don't let them eat at me. Are you happy?"
"Of course."
"Can you imagine a life without Maggie?"
He smiled fondly. "No."
"Do you love her?"
"Fiercely."
A smile tugged a Pearl's lips. "Then I'm glad you married her. Don't you dare ever apologize to me again."
He laughed, reaching over to wrap an arm around her shoulders. "You're a good woman, Pearl."
"Bah! Not so loud," she ordered. "You'll ruin my reputation. I'll never be able to step on a pirate ship again."
He laughed again. "I should get home," he said regretfully. "We'll start rumors."
"Wouldn't want that," Pearl said sarcastically. "Leastwise not when we've done nothing to earn the rumor."
"May I walk you home?" he asked as they exited the fort. "It is late."
"Nay. THAT would start rumors. I manage around the streets of Tortuga. I dare say I'll manage here. Besides, I hear there's a ruthless Commodore around here that hangs scoundrels that would assault a Lady."
"What about pirate hussies from Tortuga?"
"Oh, this Commodore is terribly charming. He'd insist she be called a Lady and hang them all the same," she said.
He laughed as he helped her to her feet. She hissed suddenly, rolling her left shoulder. "Are you all right?" he asked.
"Aye, old complaints. Don't fuss." He thought immediately of the scars marring her back, and studied her carefully. The way she carried herself hadn't changed, so it couldn't be unbearably painful or life threatening. And he knew from experience if she said it was nothing she wouldn't let him do a thing. Pushing the issue would only start another argument. Still, concern registered in his eyes, and he silently vowed to keep a closer eye on her.
"Good night, Pearl," he said, kissing her cheek. "And, for the record, I love you too."
She paused and nodded. "Thank you. Good night."
It was a short trip home for the Commodore. He endured a lecture from the housekeeper for coming in so late before she would surrender a candle and allow him to go up to his room.
He entered quietly and began undressing. He had gotten down to his breeches and thin white undershirt when the whisper of cloth alerted him that his wife was awake. He turned to find her sitting up in bed. "You're late," she remarked.
"I'm sorry. Scads of paper work, you know. And then I found Pearl sitting on the Fort crying, if you believe that."
Maggie's head snapped up at the mention of Pearl's name. "Crying over what?"
"Emmie. Her not recognizing her mother is tearing Pearl apart."
Maggie stood and crossed the room to stand near him. He watched her curiously. His wife was acting very oddly. She usually waited in bed for him to join her before cuddling close and whispering the day's events into his ear. "Did anything else happen?"
He thought carefully back over the conversation. "I told her you'd talked to me. Told me she loved me. She isn't very happy with you, but I dare say she'll live. Is something the matter?"
"That depends. Did you kiss her?"
"No," he answered. "Maggie, dear, I love you. I thought you knew you didn't have to worry about this."
"Did you want to?"
"Kiss her?" he hedged. Maggie nodded.
Just once he wished he could lie to his wife. But he had made himself a promise that he would never lie to her, and he knew if he started breaking it now it would be harder to draw the line next time.
"Yes." He stood stalk still as his wife stepped closer. Her eyes, usually sparkling with life, were hard as they regarded him. "Maggie, are you jealous?"
She was nearly on top of him now. A hair's breadth separated them as she stared deep into his eyes. "What do I have to be jealous of? You are mine, Edward." Suddenly her delicate fingers were clenched into fists, taking firm control of his shirt to pull him forward and down. Her lips were on his, demanding and fierce.
He blinked at her when she released him. Maggie had always been a willing and capable lover. But he had never seen her like this. Well, at least not when he hadn't just returned from a long voyage. "Maggie, are you all right?"
"Let's find out, shall we?" she asked. Retaining firm control of his shirt she pulled him backward toward the bed.
Author's Note: Okay, so it's not that long. But it was a challenge to write. Which is my favorite part to write. Once again, sorry it took so long to get up. Hopefully the next one won't take as long. Until then, ta