The Oldest Story in the Book
Chapter 9
Disclaimer: The cute ones all belong to Disney. Damn mouse. It isn't enough that he owns Florida and California. Have to steal the hot men too.
"Come in," Norrington responded to the soft rap on the door.
He yawned hugely as Gillette stepped into the room to lay a pile of papers on the desk. "The Maritime affair."
Norrington nodded. "Thank you, Gillette."
"Perhaps you should go home and take a nap, Sir. It looks to be a slow afternoon. Have you been sleeping poorly?"
"Just the opposite. I sleep very well, when I actually do sleep."
"Is it Bethany?" Gillette asked.
"In a manner of speaking. It's more about Maggie," Norrington answered with a rueful smile.
"Perhaps if you avoided Miss Maltrey your wife could settle down," Gillette suggested.
"I don't know. After the way she reacted last night I may pay Bethany to stay close." He grinned again, rubbing at his neck. He was very glad that his jacket had a high collar so no one could see the bruises Maggie had gifted him with. Or the nail marks on his back. Part of him knew it was her way of marking him as hers. He simply couldn't bring himself to care.
"I'm sorry, Sir?" Gillette said, giving him a questioning look.
"It's nothing. Never mind. Thank you."
Gillette turned to go when the door swung open. Norrington rolled his eyes at the red-coated man who swaggered through the door. The young Lieutenant was as full of himself as they came. "'Morning, Commodore," the man greeted as he dropped into the chair and propped his boots up on Norrington's desk. Mud dripped onto a few of the papers. Gillette glared at him.
"Feet down, Bennington," Norrington ordered. The man sighed heavily and dropped his feet. "What did you want?"
"Well, my sister's been sick, you know." The man waved his hand, completely indifferent over the illness of a loved one. Norrington rolled his eyes. "We called the surgeon, and he got a rather urgent call as soon as he finished."
"Do you have a point, Bennington?" Gillette asked.
"Well, I was just, you know the Turners don't you Commodore?"
Norrington looked up at him, heart in his throat. Emmie. "The surgeon was called to the Turners'?"
"Aye. Something about a pistol wound. The maid was so harried she could scarcely talk."
Norrington looked up at Gillette. "Maggie was going to go visiting for lunch."
"Go," Gillette ordered. "We can handle things."
"Are you certain?" Norrington was half way to the door as he said it.
"Aye, no job too big," Bennington said.
Norrington glanced at the boy, then back to Gillette. "If he get too close to the edge of the Fort try to resist pushing him off."
"Aye, Sir," Gillette answered with a smile.
Norrington hurried through the streets, his head spinning. Will didn't like keeping pistols in the house. As a master swordsman felt like cheating to him. Either they had been attacked or this was Pearl's doing. He felt certain, suddenly, that it was Pearl.
He once again entered the house without knocking. The house was in an uproar, maids flying everywhere. It reminded him sickeningly of Pearl's fever.
He hurried up the stairs, following the sound of screaming. Rounding a corner he nearly tripped over his children, huddled near the floor and peaking around the corner. Relief surged through him. They were both fine. This close he could hear the shouting more clearly. Anger colored the words, but there was no sound of agony in it. Pearl's voice. Another sigh of relief. If it were a real emergency the woman would be perfectly calm. Nothing could be too horribly wrong if she was screaming.
Among the shouts he could make out words he would prefer his children didn't know. "Shouldn't you two be downstairs?"
Both children spun to look at their father. Emmie smiled such a sweet and innocent smile he knew immediately that she was up to something. It was the look Pearl got on her face when she was most guilty. His son, on the other hand, wouldn't look him in the eye.
"What an excellent idea, Uncle Norrington," Emmie said chiperly. "We'll just wait downstairs." Grabbing Ethan's hand she hurried off.
Norrington chuckled as she went, then continued toward the screaming.
Elizabeth stood outside a closed door that was the source of the loud cursing, talking to a maid. She sent the woman running when she saw him. "What are you doing here?" she asked.
"I heard you had called for a surgeon. Something about a pistol wound? I was concerned."
"Oh, Edward, I am sorry. I would have sent word if I had known. It's only Pearl."
"What about her?" he asked.
The door opened suddenly. The burst of noise was crowned by Maggie's appearance, bearing a bowl of water tinged pink and green. "Edward," she greeted him. "Have you heard then?"
"Only a bit," Norrington said, kissing her forehead and nodding toward Elizabeth. "What about Pearl?"
"The wound is in her left shoulder," Elizabeth said. Norrington nodded, remembering her rubbing at it the night before. "It's at least a week old."
"Two, I'd wager," Maggie put in with a sigh.
"It's gone bad," Elizabeth continued. "The surgeon says she has blood poisoning. He wants to bleed her."
"What did she say?" Norrington asked.
Pearl's voice issued from the room. "If you come near me with that bloody blade again I will shove it through your throat and see how well you can stitch that up, you donkey-licking--"
"That," Elizabeth and Maggie said in unison.
Elizabeth's attention was captured down the hall suddenly. "DOWNSTAIRS!" she screamed, making both the Norringtons jump. In the following quiet two sets of small feet could be heard descending the stairs. "I dare say your children are going to have an interesting new vocabulary when we're done with this," Elizabeth sighed.
"I'm going to take this downstairs," Maggie said. "Why don't you go in and say hello, Edward?"
"All right," he agreed.
Elizabeth led him into the room. Pearl lay on the bed, propped up on a pile of pillows.
The brown wig had a matted look to it. A heavy sheet was pulled around her upper half, the left side winding under her arm, revealing one creamy shoulder.
The surgeon was beside the bed, pulling a last fat leach from the angry red wound. Edward winced at the ragged look to the flesh, and the green tinge that surrounded it. "I thought you wouldn't let him bleed you," he remarked with a nod toward the leech.
"I said he couldn't hack into my arm. Why the bad blood would be the first to stream down my arm is beyond me, but sucking out the infection I can understand on a general level. What are you doing here?"
"I heard that a surgeon had been called. I thought there might have been an emergency."
"Ah, the Port Royale underground strikes again. OW!" she added as the surgeon brushed the wound.
"I would still feel better if I could bleed you."
"I wish one of the gypsies were here. Do you know that they don't believe me when I tell them you take perfectly good blood out of a person to make them healthier?"
"It's diseased blood. You need to rid yourself of it," he argued.
"I need to rid myself of you. I wish Nikko were here. She'd drop kick you through a wall."
"Thank you, Mr. Richfield," Elizabeth said quickly. "Is there anything else to be done?"
"Just be sure to bandage it well," he said. "I may leave it up to you. I have faith in your skills."
"That might be best," Elizabeth agreed. "I'll show you out. Edward, please make sure she doesn't slither out a window."
"Ha ha ha," Pearl yelled after her. "And don't come back, you horse-"
"Enough!" Edward ordered, putting the full force he'd learned as a Commodore in the King's Royal Navy into it. For once it seemed to be enough to cut Pearl off.. He gazed morosely down at the wound. "How could you let it get this bad?"
Pearl yanked off the wig and launched it across the room. It fell harmlessly to the floor just as Maggie opened the door. She chuckled a bit as she picked up the wig and set it properly on a table. "You'll tangle it."
"Good. Then maybe I could stop wearing it. It's almost enough to make me grow my hair long. Almost," she added at Edward's look. "And for the record, this isn't so bad. You should have seen the wound in my side. Now that was a nasty ordeal."
"Lovely," Edward remarked as Elizabeth returned.
"What are we going to DO with you?" she sighed out. "We were very fortunate he could come so quickly. You don't have to alienate him."
"Actually, I did. He may hack into you if that contents you but he had best stay well away from me. Now, is Will at the smithy?"
"He had best be," Elizabeth answered. "Why?"
"Because I believe I need to pay him a visit."
Elizabeth and Norrington both stared at her for a moment. In the end it was Maggie who gasped first. "Pearl, you can't be serious."
"Oh, I am. Believe me, I know how my body works. It'll never heal now, not properly. Mayhaps I should start drinking now. Have any rum, Elizabeth?"
"Certainly not!" Elizabeth said. "What are you suggesting we do, exactly?"
Pearl grinned and nodded toward Maggie. "You can tell them."
"I believe she's suggesting we cauterize the wound."
"Exacticaly," Pearl said. "I seriously need some rum."
"You can't do that!" Elizabeth cried.
"I don't see why not. It's worked before. Like here." Yanking down the sheet on her right shoulder she displayed her upper right arm. A line of pitted, burnt flesh ran across the top of her arm. "This one made me really mad. It was just a little knife wound. Barely bled. Then it went bad on me."
"Pearl, placing hot iron on your skin is not a solution," Elizabeth sighed.
"I defy you to spend two weeks on a pirate ship and say that," Pearl replied. "I really would like to start drinking now."
"Well, Will won't do it," Elizabeth said. "The surgeon could have done it."
"I wouldn't let that gibbering, club-handed idiot near me with a splinter, let alone a red-hot piece of metal. Better I have someone I know on the other end, thank you very much. Seriously, Edward, do you know where you could get some rum?"
"Most likely, but there's no one here that's going to do this, Pearl. Elizabeth's right. Will won't do it. Neither will I."
"Lizzie-"
"Don't even think it," she cut the pirate off.
"Well, let's bloody hope Will never gets a gangrenous finger and asks you to cut it off. He'll ruddy die. Maggie, how about you do it?"
"Me?" Maggie asked. "That is, you would trust me?"
"Sure. I've seen your embroidery. You have a steady hand. That's all I need." She stared in surprise at the pirate. "Come, how often does a woman get the chance to ram hot metal into the woman that held their husband's eye before them?"
"Pearl!" Norrington cried.
"What? It's true enough. I'm hardly surprised at your unwillingness. So queasy, you men. Honestly, I don't think anyone on the Black Pearl needs sewn up or amputated or cauterized but Annamaria or I are doing it. While Gibbs and the rest heave over the side, on occasion. Come, Maggie. Let's teach your darling husband a lesson, shall we? For me? Please?"
She sighed heavily. "All right. But I'm not happy about it."
"Maggie!" Elizabeth cried.
Maggie shrugged, walking over to the bed. "I know something of doing what must be done."
Pearl smiled, nodding firmly. "I suspected as much."
"Edward, go see if you can find some rum," Maggie ordered. "Elizabeth, go warn Will that we're coming. Have him heat up an iron for us."
*************
"This is utterly ridiculous," Elizabeth announced for the hundredth time since they had set out from the house.
Maggie had insisted on Pearl putting her arm into a sling. She had also insisted on the woman allowing someone to carry her. That was one fight she had lost. Even drunk as she was, as evidenced by her having to walk between the Norringtons to keep from stumbling into the gutter and her continual stepping upon their feet, Pearl had been insistent that no one carry her. Even Elizabeth's offer of getting Will to do the honors had only made her consider it for a moment.
"I know it's utterly ridicules," Pear slurred out, stepping heavily on Maggie's foot as she swayed against her. "Tha's my favite part."
"We could have at least taken a carriage."
"You're not shoving me into that box of death until I'm dead," Pearl announced, giggling at her own joke. "'Sides I can walk fine. Oops." Her feet failed her at that moment, attempting to slip from beneath her. She giggled again as Norrington caught her and set her upright. Elizabeth sighed heavily.
"How much has she had to drink?" Will asked when they arrived at last and settled her into a chair by the forge.
"I'm not certain. Edward was in charge of rum," Elizabeth said.
"You're a rum runner," Pearl chortled. "Now you'll have to hang yourself." She then neatly fell out of the chair onto the dirt floor and started laughing.
"I'm not certain," Norrington said as her put her back into the chair. "I left her alone with two bottles and they both disappeared. I never found them empty, though, and she was threatening to hide some. I watched her drink most of the third."
Maggie sighed heavily as she went over to the forge to examine the irons. There were several sizes, some tapered, others blunt, all red-hot. "I wasn't sure what size you needed," Will told her. "I still can't believe you're doing this."
"Me neither," Pearl announced, falling toward him. He caught her and carefully set her upright.
"Best get to it then," Elizabeth sighed. "Pearl, I'm going to drop the left shoulder of your gown, all right?"
Pearl sobered, nodding solemnly to the woman before her face cracked into a sloppy grin and she dissolved into giggles. "You're worse than your father drunk," Elizabeth sighed. "On the other hand, at least you aren't trying to crawl into my dress."
"Only if it's a package deal and I get to crawl into Will's trousers as well," she answered between giggles.
"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Will said.
"Just as well. I'd say it without rum," Pearl promised.
"I believe you will," Elizabeth sighed, tugging at the bodice.
Pearl leaned against Norrington to steady herself. "Don't pout, Edward. I'd offer you the same deal, but you'd probably take me up on it. I look enough like Ma'ee. What is it about men with twins? I mean, I know triplets in Tortuga. They make more in a week than most do in six months."
"That should do it," Elizabeth announced as she finished arranging the gown. "Does it hurt Pearl?"
"No. I can't feel a thing," she announced, throwing her arms wide and nearly falling forward out of the chair.
"That is bad," Will said, leaning closer to examine the wound. He reached a finger out to hover over it, then he moved to trace a line on her shoulder. Suddenly he straightened and moved behind her. "Pearl! What the bloody hell happened to your back?!"
Startled by Will's cursing Maggie and Elizabeth moved to look as well while Norrington tried valiantly to keep her in the chair.
"Tha's old," she slurred out, waving her hand at him.
"How did it happen?" Elizabeth asked.
"A whip," Maggie announced. Elizabeth gave her a startled look and she shrugged. "Well, that's what it was."
"Who whipped you?" Will asked. When she didn't answer he moved around the crouch before her, putting one hand on her hands in her lap and the other lifting her eyes to his. "Pearl? Who was it?"
"Pirate. Bad pirate." She straightened suddenly. "Can we get this over with? I want sleep."
Elizabeth shrugged and looked up at Maggie. She went back to examining the irons. "Pearl, I really don't know which is best..."
"Any that will cover the space is all right. I'd prefer you get too large an area to doing this twice. Same goes for how long you hold it on. Better you go a bit too long than have to do it again."
"How do I know how long is too long?" Maggie asked.
"You'll know," Pearl answered. "Or I'll fait of pain. That's usually a good sign."
"Pearl, you can still end this. Pull out now," Elizabeth informed her, crouching to take her hand.
"Nope. Gotta be done."
Maggie sighed dramatically and picked up one of the irons. "Will this do?"
Pearl stared woozily at it. "I see three of them so I'm not a very good judge. It should do."
Maggie sighed again. "Edward, you'd best hold her. I wouldn't want her jerking about."
Norrington obediently moved to stand behind her, taking a firm grip on her shoulders. Will crouched beside her, taking her free hand and placing the other firmly on her waist. "Hold on tight, boys. Going to be a bumpy ride," Pearl informed them with a giggle.
Maggie approached, leaned carefully forward, and pressed the glowing metal to the wound. It sizzled slightly, excess blood leaking around, mixing with what green puss had managed to collect since the wound was drained.
Pearl hissed, grabbing at the hands for something to hold, her back flexing slightly in pain but not pulling away. "Harder," Pearl gritted out. "I want it closed all the way."
A concerned look on her face, Maggie complied, pressing the metal more firmly into the wound. Pearl's breath was deep and shaky, her body trembling slightly under the hands holding her firmly in place. After a few moments Maggie asked, "Is that enough?"
Pearl paused, then nodded. She sighed as Maggie handed the metal to Will and leaned forward to examine the wound. Pearl's eyelids drooped. "How's it look?"
"Closed," she answered. "That should do it, I would think."
"Let's hope," Pearl sighed. "Let's get me back, fast."
"Does it hurt?" Norrington asked, as Elizabeth pushed the shoulder of her dress into its proper place. He leaned down and pulled her arm around his neck.
She shook her head groggily, and it lulled as he lifted her into his arms. "No. I just want to sleep. Rum's working." With a final sigh she buried her head in his shoulder and went limp in his arms.
Author's Note: Sorta short, I know. I'm drowning in homework, and unfortunately I got nothing done over spring break. And not because I went somewhere warm. Oh, no. I was sitting in a snow storm working my bum off. Add to that a broken down car and a cavity I need to get filled and you understand my crabbiness. But you get a chapter, so what do you care? Next up: Jack comes to retrieve his daughter. Donate to the Make Marvel Feel Better Fund. It's easy. Just review.
Chapter 9
Disclaimer: The cute ones all belong to Disney. Damn mouse. It isn't enough that he owns Florida and California. Have to steal the hot men too.
"Come in," Norrington responded to the soft rap on the door.
He yawned hugely as Gillette stepped into the room to lay a pile of papers on the desk. "The Maritime affair."
Norrington nodded. "Thank you, Gillette."
"Perhaps you should go home and take a nap, Sir. It looks to be a slow afternoon. Have you been sleeping poorly?"
"Just the opposite. I sleep very well, when I actually do sleep."
"Is it Bethany?" Gillette asked.
"In a manner of speaking. It's more about Maggie," Norrington answered with a rueful smile.
"Perhaps if you avoided Miss Maltrey your wife could settle down," Gillette suggested.
"I don't know. After the way she reacted last night I may pay Bethany to stay close." He grinned again, rubbing at his neck. He was very glad that his jacket had a high collar so no one could see the bruises Maggie had gifted him with. Or the nail marks on his back. Part of him knew it was her way of marking him as hers. He simply couldn't bring himself to care.
"I'm sorry, Sir?" Gillette said, giving him a questioning look.
"It's nothing. Never mind. Thank you."
Gillette turned to go when the door swung open. Norrington rolled his eyes at the red-coated man who swaggered through the door. The young Lieutenant was as full of himself as they came. "'Morning, Commodore," the man greeted as he dropped into the chair and propped his boots up on Norrington's desk. Mud dripped onto a few of the papers. Gillette glared at him.
"Feet down, Bennington," Norrington ordered. The man sighed heavily and dropped his feet. "What did you want?"
"Well, my sister's been sick, you know." The man waved his hand, completely indifferent over the illness of a loved one. Norrington rolled his eyes. "We called the surgeon, and he got a rather urgent call as soon as he finished."
"Do you have a point, Bennington?" Gillette asked.
"Well, I was just, you know the Turners don't you Commodore?"
Norrington looked up at him, heart in his throat. Emmie. "The surgeon was called to the Turners'?"
"Aye. Something about a pistol wound. The maid was so harried she could scarcely talk."
Norrington looked up at Gillette. "Maggie was going to go visiting for lunch."
"Go," Gillette ordered. "We can handle things."
"Are you certain?" Norrington was half way to the door as he said it.
"Aye, no job too big," Bennington said.
Norrington glanced at the boy, then back to Gillette. "If he get too close to the edge of the Fort try to resist pushing him off."
"Aye, Sir," Gillette answered with a smile.
Norrington hurried through the streets, his head spinning. Will didn't like keeping pistols in the house. As a master swordsman felt like cheating to him. Either they had been attacked or this was Pearl's doing. He felt certain, suddenly, that it was Pearl.
He once again entered the house without knocking. The house was in an uproar, maids flying everywhere. It reminded him sickeningly of Pearl's fever.
He hurried up the stairs, following the sound of screaming. Rounding a corner he nearly tripped over his children, huddled near the floor and peaking around the corner. Relief surged through him. They were both fine. This close he could hear the shouting more clearly. Anger colored the words, but there was no sound of agony in it. Pearl's voice. Another sigh of relief. If it were a real emergency the woman would be perfectly calm. Nothing could be too horribly wrong if she was screaming.
Among the shouts he could make out words he would prefer his children didn't know. "Shouldn't you two be downstairs?"
Both children spun to look at their father. Emmie smiled such a sweet and innocent smile he knew immediately that she was up to something. It was the look Pearl got on her face when she was most guilty. His son, on the other hand, wouldn't look him in the eye.
"What an excellent idea, Uncle Norrington," Emmie said chiperly. "We'll just wait downstairs." Grabbing Ethan's hand she hurried off.
Norrington chuckled as she went, then continued toward the screaming.
Elizabeth stood outside a closed door that was the source of the loud cursing, talking to a maid. She sent the woman running when she saw him. "What are you doing here?" she asked.
"I heard you had called for a surgeon. Something about a pistol wound? I was concerned."
"Oh, Edward, I am sorry. I would have sent word if I had known. It's only Pearl."
"What about her?" he asked.
The door opened suddenly. The burst of noise was crowned by Maggie's appearance, bearing a bowl of water tinged pink and green. "Edward," she greeted him. "Have you heard then?"
"Only a bit," Norrington said, kissing her forehead and nodding toward Elizabeth. "What about Pearl?"
"The wound is in her left shoulder," Elizabeth said. Norrington nodded, remembering her rubbing at it the night before. "It's at least a week old."
"Two, I'd wager," Maggie put in with a sigh.
"It's gone bad," Elizabeth continued. "The surgeon says she has blood poisoning. He wants to bleed her."
"What did she say?" Norrington asked.
Pearl's voice issued from the room. "If you come near me with that bloody blade again I will shove it through your throat and see how well you can stitch that up, you donkey-licking--"
"That," Elizabeth and Maggie said in unison.
Elizabeth's attention was captured down the hall suddenly. "DOWNSTAIRS!" she screamed, making both the Norringtons jump. In the following quiet two sets of small feet could be heard descending the stairs. "I dare say your children are going to have an interesting new vocabulary when we're done with this," Elizabeth sighed.
"I'm going to take this downstairs," Maggie said. "Why don't you go in and say hello, Edward?"
"All right," he agreed.
Elizabeth led him into the room. Pearl lay on the bed, propped up on a pile of pillows.
The brown wig had a matted look to it. A heavy sheet was pulled around her upper half, the left side winding under her arm, revealing one creamy shoulder.
The surgeon was beside the bed, pulling a last fat leach from the angry red wound. Edward winced at the ragged look to the flesh, and the green tinge that surrounded it. "I thought you wouldn't let him bleed you," he remarked with a nod toward the leech.
"I said he couldn't hack into my arm. Why the bad blood would be the first to stream down my arm is beyond me, but sucking out the infection I can understand on a general level. What are you doing here?"
"I heard that a surgeon had been called. I thought there might have been an emergency."
"Ah, the Port Royale underground strikes again. OW!" she added as the surgeon brushed the wound.
"I would still feel better if I could bleed you."
"I wish one of the gypsies were here. Do you know that they don't believe me when I tell them you take perfectly good blood out of a person to make them healthier?"
"It's diseased blood. You need to rid yourself of it," he argued.
"I need to rid myself of you. I wish Nikko were here. She'd drop kick you through a wall."
"Thank you, Mr. Richfield," Elizabeth said quickly. "Is there anything else to be done?"
"Just be sure to bandage it well," he said. "I may leave it up to you. I have faith in your skills."
"That might be best," Elizabeth agreed. "I'll show you out. Edward, please make sure she doesn't slither out a window."
"Ha ha ha," Pearl yelled after her. "And don't come back, you horse-"
"Enough!" Edward ordered, putting the full force he'd learned as a Commodore in the King's Royal Navy into it. For once it seemed to be enough to cut Pearl off.. He gazed morosely down at the wound. "How could you let it get this bad?"
Pearl yanked off the wig and launched it across the room. It fell harmlessly to the floor just as Maggie opened the door. She chuckled a bit as she picked up the wig and set it properly on a table. "You'll tangle it."
"Good. Then maybe I could stop wearing it. It's almost enough to make me grow my hair long. Almost," she added at Edward's look. "And for the record, this isn't so bad. You should have seen the wound in my side. Now that was a nasty ordeal."
"Lovely," Edward remarked as Elizabeth returned.
"What are we going to DO with you?" she sighed out. "We were very fortunate he could come so quickly. You don't have to alienate him."
"Actually, I did. He may hack into you if that contents you but he had best stay well away from me. Now, is Will at the smithy?"
"He had best be," Elizabeth answered. "Why?"
"Because I believe I need to pay him a visit."
Elizabeth and Norrington both stared at her for a moment. In the end it was Maggie who gasped first. "Pearl, you can't be serious."
"Oh, I am. Believe me, I know how my body works. It'll never heal now, not properly. Mayhaps I should start drinking now. Have any rum, Elizabeth?"
"Certainly not!" Elizabeth said. "What are you suggesting we do, exactly?"
Pearl grinned and nodded toward Maggie. "You can tell them."
"I believe she's suggesting we cauterize the wound."
"Exacticaly," Pearl said. "I seriously need some rum."
"You can't do that!" Elizabeth cried.
"I don't see why not. It's worked before. Like here." Yanking down the sheet on her right shoulder she displayed her upper right arm. A line of pitted, burnt flesh ran across the top of her arm. "This one made me really mad. It was just a little knife wound. Barely bled. Then it went bad on me."
"Pearl, placing hot iron on your skin is not a solution," Elizabeth sighed.
"I defy you to spend two weeks on a pirate ship and say that," Pearl replied. "I really would like to start drinking now."
"Well, Will won't do it," Elizabeth said. "The surgeon could have done it."
"I wouldn't let that gibbering, club-handed idiot near me with a splinter, let alone a red-hot piece of metal. Better I have someone I know on the other end, thank you very much. Seriously, Edward, do you know where you could get some rum?"
"Most likely, but there's no one here that's going to do this, Pearl. Elizabeth's right. Will won't do it. Neither will I."
"Lizzie-"
"Don't even think it," she cut the pirate off.
"Well, let's bloody hope Will never gets a gangrenous finger and asks you to cut it off. He'll ruddy die. Maggie, how about you do it?"
"Me?" Maggie asked. "That is, you would trust me?"
"Sure. I've seen your embroidery. You have a steady hand. That's all I need." She stared in surprise at the pirate. "Come, how often does a woman get the chance to ram hot metal into the woman that held their husband's eye before them?"
"Pearl!" Norrington cried.
"What? It's true enough. I'm hardly surprised at your unwillingness. So queasy, you men. Honestly, I don't think anyone on the Black Pearl needs sewn up or amputated or cauterized but Annamaria or I are doing it. While Gibbs and the rest heave over the side, on occasion. Come, Maggie. Let's teach your darling husband a lesson, shall we? For me? Please?"
She sighed heavily. "All right. But I'm not happy about it."
"Maggie!" Elizabeth cried.
Maggie shrugged, walking over to the bed. "I know something of doing what must be done."
Pearl smiled, nodding firmly. "I suspected as much."
"Edward, go see if you can find some rum," Maggie ordered. "Elizabeth, go warn Will that we're coming. Have him heat up an iron for us."
*************
"This is utterly ridiculous," Elizabeth announced for the hundredth time since they had set out from the house.
Maggie had insisted on Pearl putting her arm into a sling. She had also insisted on the woman allowing someone to carry her. That was one fight she had lost. Even drunk as she was, as evidenced by her having to walk between the Norringtons to keep from stumbling into the gutter and her continual stepping upon their feet, Pearl had been insistent that no one carry her. Even Elizabeth's offer of getting Will to do the honors had only made her consider it for a moment.
"I know it's utterly ridicules," Pear slurred out, stepping heavily on Maggie's foot as she swayed against her. "Tha's my favite part."
"We could have at least taken a carriage."
"You're not shoving me into that box of death until I'm dead," Pearl announced, giggling at her own joke. "'Sides I can walk fine. Oops." Her feet failed her at that moment, attempting to slip from beneath her. She giggled again as Norrington caught her and set her upright. Elizabeth sighed heavily.
"How much has she had to drink?" Will asked when they arrived at last and settled her into a chair by the forge.
"I'm not certain. Edward was in charge of rum," Elizabeth said.
"You're a rum runner," Pearl chortled. "Now you'll have to hang yourself." She then neatly fell out of the chair onto the dirt floor and started laughing.
"I'm not certain," Norrington said as her put her back into the chair. "I left her alone with two bottles and they both disappeared. I never found them empty, though, and she was threatening to hide some. I watched her drink most of the third."
Maggie sighed heavily as she went over to the forge to examine the irons. There were several sizes, some tapered, others blunt, all red-hot. "I wasn't sure what size you needed," Will told her. "I still can't believe you're doing this."
"Me neither," Pearl announced, falling toward him. He caught her and carefully set her upright.
"Best get to it then," Elizabeth sighed. "Pearl, I'm going to drop the left shoulder of your gown, all right?"
Pearl sobered, nodding solemnly to the woman before her face cracked into a sloppy grin and she dissolved into giggles. "You're worse than your father drunk," Elizabeth sighed. "On the other hand, at least you aren't trying to crawl into my dress."
"Only if it's a package deal and I get to crawl into Will's trousers as well," she answered between giggles.
"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Will said.
"Just as well. I'd say it without rum," Pearl promised.
"I believe you will," Elizabeth sighed, tugging at the bodice.
Pearl leaned against Norrington to steady herself. "Don't pout, Edward. I'd offer you the same deal, but you'd probably take me up on it. I look enough like Ma'ee. What is it about men with twins? I mean, I know triplets in Tortuga. They make more in a week than most do in six months."
"That should do it," Elizabeth announced as she finished arranging the gown. "Does it hurt Pearl?"
"No. I can't feel a thing," she announced, throwing her arms wide and nearly falling forward out of the chair.
"That is bad," Will said, leaning closer to examine the wound. He reached a finger out to hover over it, then he moved to trace a line on her shoulder. Suddenly he straightened and moved behind her. "Pearl! What the bloody hell happened to your back?!"
Startled by Will's cursing Maggie and Elizabeth moved to look as well while Norrington tried valiantly to keep her in the chair.
"Tha's old," she slurred out, waving her hand at him.
"How did it happen?" Elizabeth asked.
"A whip," Maggie announced. Elizabeth gave her a startled look and she shrugged. "Well, that's what it was."
"Who whipped you?" Will asked. When she didn't answer he moved around the crouch before her, putting one hand on her hands in her lap and the other lifting her eyes to his. "Pearl? Who was it?"
"Pirate. Bad pirate." She straightened suddenly. "Can we get this over with? I want sleep."
Elizabeth shrugged and looked up at Maggie. She went back to examining the irons. "Pearl, I really don't know which is best..."
"Any that will cover the space is all right. I'd prefer you get too large an area to doing this twice. Same goes for how long you hold it on. Better you go a bit too long than have to do it again."
"How do I know how long is too long?" Maggie asked.
"You'll know," Pearl answered. "Or I'll fait of pain. That's usually a good sign."
"Pearl, you can still end this. Pull out now," Elizabeth informed her, crouching to take her hand.
"Nope. Gotta be done."
Maggie sighed dramatically and picked up one of the irons. "Will this do?"
Pearl stared woozily at it. "I see three of them so I'm not a very good judge. It should do."
Maggie sighed again. "Edward, you'd best hold her. I wouldn't want her jerking about."
Norrington obediently moved to stand behind her, taking a firm grip on her shoulders. Will crouched beside her, taking her free hand and placing the other firmly on her waist. "Hold on tight, boys. Going to be a bumpy ride," Pearl informed them with a giggle.
Maggie approached, leaned carefully forward, and pressed the glowing metal to the wound. It sizzled slightly, excess blood leaking around, mixing with what green puss had managed to collect since the wound was drained.
Pearl hissed, grabbing at the hands for something to hold, her back flexing slightly in pain but not pulling away. "Harder," Pearl gritted out. "I want it closed all the way."
A concerned look on her face, Maggie complied, pressing the metal more firmly into the wound. Pearl's breath was deep and shaky, her body trembling slightly under the hands holding her firmly in place. After a few moments Maggie asked, "Is that enough?"
Pearl paused, then nodded. She sighed as Maggie handed the metal to Will and leaned forward to examine the wound. Pearl's eyelids drooped. "How's it look?"
"Closed," she answered. "That should do it, I would think."
"Let's hope," Pearl sighed. "Let's get me back, fast."
"Does it hurt?" Norrington asked, as Elizabeth pushed the shoulder of her dress into its proper place. He leaned down and pulled her arm around his neck.
She shook her head groggily, and it lulled as he lifted her into his arms. "No. I just want to sleep. Rum's working." With a final sigh she buried her head in his shoulder and went limp in his arms.
Author's Note: Sorta short, I know. I'm drowning in homework, and unfortunately I got nothing done over spring break. And not because I went somewhere warm. Oh, no. I was sitting in a snow storm working my bum off. Add to that a broken down car and a cavity I need to get filled and you understand my crabbiness. But you get a chapter, so what do you care? Next up: Jack comes to retrieve his daughter. Donate to the Make Marvel Feel Better Fund. It's easy. Just review.