The Oldest Story in the Book
Chapter 17
Disclaimer: Not mine. But if they were I would share, because that's the kind, generous person I am. Maybe. I should get my hands on them so I can find out.
Author's Note: Sorry, sorry, sorry. I know I promised you an update earlier. Well, I said maybe so I didn't really promise, but you get the idea. My computer crapped out over the weekend. More bad news, I don't have any time off for about two weeks. This working three jobs with one unpaid sucks. Plus I'm incredibly poor. Oh well, I should entertain myself writing fanfiction, right? Right. So here you go:
"Before I forget, I want to give you this," Pearl said, handing him a loaf of bread. "They won't have fed the man who tried to stab me."
"Why not?" Norrington asked in confusion.
She shrugged. "They're protective of me. If I hadn't ordered them not to touch him he'd probably be a bloody pulp by now. I still say Jack should have had him executed. It makes him look weak that he didn't. Either that or suggests that he doesn't care about his daughter. I can guarantee his death on Jack's order would be nothing compared to what the crew would have done if he had gone after Emmie. They all seem to think she's their daughter. I don't think anything would have stopped them lynching him then."
"That's comforting," he remarked. "I always pictured Emmie fighting with the crew."
"Only when she's practicing the sword," she answered. "The rest of the time they're giving her gifts or arguing over who gets to help her, or whether she should be allowed to do any work at all."
"I'm glad." He tucked the bread into the front of his jacket and found himself staring down at Pearl.
The candle she had brought with her gave off a meager, flickering light, barely enough to touch the wooden walls and door. The light played across her features and over her hair as her eyes locked on his.
She moved after a moment, shaking her head as if to clear it. "We should go," she murmured, moving toward the door.
"Wait."
The single word stopped her in her tracks. She turned back to look at him. "Yes?"
"I don't know. I just, there could be something to say. I need to think."
"Edward, we've said it," she told him. "Over and over again, for years we've said it.
His hand seemed to move of its own accord, finding its way to her cheek, tilting her head back to force her eyes to his. She sighed quietly, leaning into the contact. "I missed you," he whispered.
"I missed you too," she told him.
"Then why haven't you visited?" he asked, wincing when it came out more demand than question. That wasn't how he had intended it.
She moved away from his hand, putting at least an arm's length between them and steadying one shoulder on the wall, her arms crossed over her chest. "Because I was afraid it would be a bad idea."
"And now?" he asked.
"Now I know it would have been. Nothing's changed, Edward."
He drew closer. "What do you mean?"
"Edward," she said, pleading clear in her voice. "Don't make me say it."
"Why not?" he asked. "I love you. Saying it doesn't make it hurt any more."
"It doesn't make it hurt any less either." He stood still, looking expectantly down at her. "All right! I love you. I love you and I want you and it's killing me that I can't have you! I'm a pirate, damn it all. I'm supposed to just take what I want."
He drew closer. "Very unpiratish of you," he half-scolded.
"Don't tempt me," she returned.
"Or what?" he asked.
She moved like an uncoiling snake that had been set to strike. One moment she was leaning against the wall, perfectly still, and the next she was pressed close to him, one arm firmly around his neck and her demanding lips on his.
He knew he should pull away. That he had a wife at home, who was decidedly not this pirate woman, who trusted him enough to send him into the arms of his former lover. And he was betraying that trust. For the first time in his life Commodore Edward Norrington found that right at that moment, he didn't care in the least.
She was the first to pull away, and the move was just as sudden. One moment she was in his arms and the next she'd put two large strides between them. "I'm sorry," she whispered, eyes wide as if she couldn't believe what she'd just done. "I didn't mean to, I shouldn't, I'm so sorry."
"Don't be," he panted out. "I wanted you to do that. I goaded you into it. I should be sorry."
"Are you?"
He grinned. "No."
"You're turning into a pirate," she warned.
"I doubt that," he replied. "What are we going to do, Pearl?"
"What we've done for the last fifteen years, Edward. We're going to live."
"You could come back. Elizabeth and Will would take you in. I'm certain they could find something for you to do."
She shook her head slowly. "How many times must we have this conversation? I can't leave the sea. Besides, it would be too much temptation for both of us."
Edward paced a short walk. "There has to be a way."
"There isn't."
"Don't say that!" he lashed out at her suddenly. "Why can't we just be happy together?"
"Because you're a Commodore and I'm a pirate. Different worlds."
"That shouldn't make any difference," he argued.
"But it does."
He growled suddenly, turning around to hit the wall. Pearl watched in surprise. She'd never seen the man's temper get the best of him, despite her best efforts to provoke him. "Why can't we just be happy together?"
He remained there, fist still planted on the wall, and moved to rest his head against the cool wood, trying to get a grip on himself.
Pearl carefully crossed the space between them to place her hand on his shoulder. When he turned to look at her she opened her mouth and sang softly, in something little more than a whisper, "What ravages of spirit conjure this temtuous rage?"
The light reflected liquid in her eyes as she blinked back the excess moisture. This was one of Pearl Siren Sparrow's most effective ways of dealing with emotion she didn't like. She sang, claiming the words weren't hers while finding the song that best fit the swirling confines of her soul. And she had made an excellent choice this time.
She stepped closer, cupping his cheek with her hand as her voice rose, picking up a light tune. "Created in you a monster, broken by the rule of love. And faith has led you through it. You do what you have to do." He turned, placing his own hand on top of hers. Yes, that was exactly the way he felt. As if an angry monster swirled within him, demanding more, demanding the love he wanted with every fiber of his soul, had wanted since he met her, making him feel as if he were just doing what he had to in order to survive while desperately needing more.
She stepped closer again, eradicating the little space that had been between them, nearly brushing him with her nose as she turned her face up to him and dropped her voice into a whisper, a song meant just for them. "But I have the sense to recognize that I don't know how to let you go." He felt his stomach flip flop. It was a confession he had always wanted and never known how to get from the proud woman without inciting her anger.
She wrapped her arms around him and stepped against his chest, leaning on him. He put his arms around her and rested his head on hers, offering her what comfort he could give, taking what she offered. They swayed softly to the tune beneath her voice. "Every moment marked with apparitions of your soul," she continued quietly. "I'm ever swiftly moving, trying to escape this desire. The yearning to be near you, I do what I have to do. But I have the sense to recognize that I don't know how to let you go." She pulled back a bit to gaze into his eyes, still remaining in the circle of his arms and retaining her hold on him. "Glowing ember, burning hot, burning slow. Deep within I'm shaken by the violence of existing for only you. I know I can't be with you. I do what I have to do. But I have the sense to recognize that I don't know how to let you go." She leaned up, placing a chaste kiss on his cheek.
"Well said," he whispered.
"It's just the oldest story in the book, Edward," she whispered to him. "Shakespeare himself wrote it. You'll excuse me if I'd prefer separating myself from you to stabbing myself in the gut." This drew a dry chuckle from him. "All we can do is live and be happy and hope that, maybe, some day, we can be together."
"Some day?" he repeated.
"Better than never," she pointed out.
"I'd agree with that."
"Come on. I have a cell I should be locking you up in," she finally sighed, leading him out toward the brig. "Oh, and here's the key," she added quickly. "Drop it in a dirty crevice between the wood or something. People hide keys sometimes, in case they're ever locked in their own brigs. The former captain might have done it, or a member of the crew in case. No one should question it."
"Consider it done," he answered, placing the twisted bit of metal into a pocket inside his coat.
==============================
Emmie was still up, as Pearl had expected. Rose had lookout over the night shift, and Annamaria had volunteered to help guard the captives so the mother and daughter had the room to themselves. "What took so long?" the girl asked without looking up from her book.
"Goodbyes are never easy," Pearl answered. "Out with that light. I'm tired and we have a great deal of work to do tomorrow."
"Mama?" Pearl paused in her undressing to look up at her daughter. "It'll be all right. You'll see. You'll be together in the end."
Pearl stared at the girl as she blew out the light and settled into bed. There were tales of the Aztec goddess in their blood giving some of her followers a future sight of sorts. Tales Pearl had never seen any proof of, but she still found herself wondering. Mostly because she wanted so badly to believe.
Dismissing it, she climbed into bed herself. It didn't matter. The world was hers to order as best she could, come what may.
Author's Note: Wee. That was fun. The song was by Sarah McLachlan. I love my Mirrorball cd, and it just fit.
As for Mac and LegolasGreenleafGil-Estel, I wish I'd written my last author's note better. I wouldn't call this cheating, would you? Pearl would never let Norrington cheat. She knows it would kill him. The guilt and whatnot. No, poor Norrington can never be happy while both of the women he loves are alive. Not that he would be happy if one died, but things would be slightly less complicated.
Speaking of which, brace yourself. It may be a while before I get the next chapter up, but it's a hard one to write. Without giving everything away, just know I'm arming myself against you people. All right, I'll tell you. There's a character death. I'm not telling you who, I'm just saying hold on tight.
Chapter 17
Disclaimer: Not mine. But if they were I would share, because that's the kind, generous person I am. Maybe. I should get my hands on them so I can find out.
Author's Note: Sorry, sorry, sorry. I know I promised you an update earlier. Well, I said maybe so I didn't really promise, but you get the idea. My computer crapped out over the weekend. More bad news, I don't have any time off for about two weeks. This working three jobs with one unpaid sucks. Plus I'm incredibly poor. Oh well, I should entertain myself writing fanfiction, right? Right. So here you go:
"Before I forget, I want to give you this," Pearl said, handing him a loaf of bread. "They won't have fed the man who tried to stab me."
"Why not?" Norrington asked in confusion.
She shrugged. "They're protective of me. If I hadn't ordered them not to touch him he'd probably be a bloody pulp by now. I still say Jack should have had him executed. It makes him look weak that he didn't. Either that or suggests that he doesn't care about his daughter. I can guarantee his death on Jack's order would be nothing compared to what the crew would have done if he had gone after Emmie. They all seem to think she's their daughter. I don't think anything would have stopped them lynching him then."
"That's comforting," he remarked. "I always pictured Emmie fighting with the crew."
"Only when she's practicing the sword," she answered. "The rest of the time they're giving her gifts or arguing over who gets to help her, or whether she should be allowed to do any work at all."
"I'm glad." He tucked the bread into the front of his jacket and found himself staring down at Pearl.
The candle she had brought with her gave off a meager, flickering light, barely enough to touch the wooden walls and door. The light played across her features and over her hair as her eyes locked on his.
She moved after a moment, shaking her head as if to clear it. "We should go," she murmured, moving toward the door.
"Wait."
The single word stopped her in her tracks. She turned back to look at him. "Yes?"
"I don't know. I just, there could be something to say. I need to think."
"Edward, we've said it," she told him. "Over and over again, for years we've said it.
His hand seemed to move of its own accord, finding its way to her cheek, tilting her head back to force her eyes to his. She sighed quietly, leaning into the contact. "I missed you," he whispered.
"I missed you too," she told him.
"Then why haven't you visited?" he asked, wincing when it came out more demand than question. That wasn't how he had intended it.
She moved away from his hand, putting at least an arm's length between them and steadying one shoulder on the wall, her arms crossed over her chest. "Because I was afraid it would be a bad idea."
"And now?" he asked.
"Now I know it would have been. Nothing's changed, Edward."
He drew closer. "What do you mean?"
"Edward," she said, pleading clear in her voice. "Don't make me say it."
"Why not?" he asked. "I love you. Saying it doesn't make it hurt any more."
"It doesn't make it hurt any less either." He stood still, looking expectantly down at her. "All right! I love you. I love you and I want you and it's killing me that I can't have you! I'm a pirate, damn it all. I'm supposed to just take what I want."
He drew closer. "Very unpiratish of you," he half-scolded.
"Don't tempt me," she returned.
"Or what?" he asked.
She moved like an uncoiling snake that had been set to strike. One moment she was leaning against the wall, perfectly still, and the next she was pressed close to him, one arm firmly around his neck and her demanding lips on his.
He knew he should pull away. That he had a wife at home, who was decidedly not this pirate woman, who trusted him enough to send him into the arms of his former lover. And he was betraying that trust. For the first time in his life Commodore Edward Norrington found that right at that moment, he didn't care in the least.
She was the first to pull away, and the move was just as sudden. One moment she was in his arms and the next she'd put two large strides between them. "I'm sorry," she whispered, eyes wide as if she couldn't believe what she'd just done. "I didn't mean to, I shouldn't, I'm so sorry."
"Don't be," he panted out. "I wanted you to do that. I goaded you into it. I should be sorry."
"Are you?"
He grinned. "No."
"You're turning into a pirate," she warned.
"I doubt that," he replied. "What are we going to do, Pearl?"
"What we've done for the last fifteen years, Edward. We're going to live."
"You could come back. Elizabeth and Will would take you in. I'm certain they could find something for you to do."
She shook her head slowly. "How many times must we have this conversation? I can't leave the sea. Besides, it would be too much temptation for both of us."
Edward paced a short walk. "There has to be a way."
"There isn't."
"Don't say that!" he lashed out at her suddenly. "Why can't we just be happy together?"
"Because you're a Commodore and I'm a pirate. Different worlds."
"That shouldn't make any difference," he argued.
"But it does."
He growled suddenly, turning around to hit the wall. Pearl watched in surprise. She'd never seen the man's temper get the best of him, despite her best efforts to provoke him. "Why can't we just be happy together?"
He remained there, fist still planted on the wall, and moved to rest his head against the cool wood, trying to get a grip on himself.
Pearl carefully crossed the space between them to place her hand on his shoulder. When he turned to look at her she opened her mouth and sang softly, in something little more than a whisper, "What ravages of spirit conjure this temtuous rage?"
The light reflected liquid in her eyes as she blinked back the excess moisture. This was one of Pearl Siren Sparrow's most effective ways of dealing with emotion she didn't like. She sang, claiming the words weren't hers while finding the song that best fit the swirling confines of her soul. And she had made an excellent choice this time.
She stepped closer, cupping his cheek with her hand as her voice rose, picking up a light tune. "Created in you a monster, broken by the rule of love. And faith has led you through it. You do what you have to do." He turned, placing his own hand on top of hers. Yes, that was exactly the way he felt. As if an angry monster swirled within him, demanding more, demanding the love he wanted with every fiber of his soul, had wanted since he met her, making him feel as if he were just doing what he had to in order to survive while desperately needing more.
She stepped closer again, eradicating the little space that had been between them, nearly brushing him with her nose as she turned her face up to him and dropped her voice into a whisper, a song meant just for them. "But I have the sense to recognize that I don't know how to let you go." He felt his stomach flip flop. It was a confession he had always wanted and never known how to get from the proud woman without inciting her anger.
She wrapped her arms around him and stepped against his chest, leaning on him. He put his arms around her and rested his head on hers, offering her what comfort he could give, taking what she offered. They swayed softly to the tune beneath her voice. "Every moment marked with apparitions of your soul," she continued quietly. "I'm ever swiftly moving, trying to escape this desire. The yearning to be near you, I do what I have to do. But I have the sense to recognize that I don't know how to let you go." She pulled back a bit to gaze into his eyes, still remaining in the circle of his arms and retaining her hold on him. "Glowing ember, burning hot, burning slow. Deep within I'm shaken by the violence of existing for only you. I know I can't be with you. I do what I have to do. But I have the sense to recognize that I don't know how to let you go." She leaned up, placing a chaste kiss on his cheek.
"Well said," he whispered.
"It's just the oldest story in the book, Edward," she whispered to him. "Shakespeare himself wrote it. You'll excuse me if I'd prefer separating myself from you to stabbing myself in the gut." This drew a dry chuckle from him. "All we can do is live and be happy and hope that, maybe, some day, we can be together."
"Some day?" he repeated.
"Better than never," she pointed out.
"I'd agree with that."
"Come on. I have a cell I should be locking you up in," she finally sighed, leading him out toward the brig. "Oh, and here's the key," she added quickly. "Drop it in a dirty crevice between the wood or something. People hide keys sometimes, in case they're ever locked in their own brigs. The former captain might have done it, or a member of the crew in case. No one should question it."
"Consider it done," he answered, placing the twisted bit of metal into a pocket inside his coat.
==============================
Emmie was still up, as Pearl had expected. Rose had lookout over the night shift, and Annamaria had volunteered to help guard the captives so the mother and daughter had the room to themselves. "What took so long?" the girl asked without looking up from her book.
"Goodbyes are never easy," Pearl answered. "Out with that light. I'm tired and we have a great deal of work to do tomorrow."
"Mama?" Pearl paused in her undressing to look up at her daughter. "It'll be all right. You'll see. You'll be together in the end."
Pearl stared at the girl as she blew out the light and settled into bed. There were tales of the Aztec goddess in their blood giving some of her followers a future sight of sorts. Tales Pearl had never seen any proof of, but she still found herself wondering. Mostly because she wanted so badly to believe.
Dismissing it, she climbed into bed herself. It didn't matter. The world was hers to order as best she could, come what may.
Author's Note: Wee. That was fun. The song was by Sarah McLachlan. I love my Mirrorball cd, and it just fit.
As for Mac and LegolasGreenleafGil-Estel, I wish I'd written my last author's note better. I wouldn't call this cheating, would you? Pearl would never let Norrington cheat. She knows it would kill him. The guilt and whatnot. No, poor Norrington can never be happy while both of the women he loves are alive. Not that he would be happy if one died, but things would be slightly less complicated.
Speaking of which, brace yourself. It may be a while before I get the next chapter up, but it's a hard one to write. Without giving everything away, just know I'm arming myself against you people. All right, I'll tell you. There's a character death. I'm not telling you who, I'm just saying hold on tight.