The plot thickens... and... a wee bit of what I think some of you have been hungering for... putting this up now, as I am sick and don't know when I'll get a chance to update (midterms, papers, yeuck) again for the next couple of weeks.
PS: has decided to eat all of my question marks/exclamation points for tonight. I'll fix it as I can, but I don't know what's wrong with this site.
Dennot, England
1688
The needle pricked her finger once again, and this time she could not stop the small line of crimson from soaking the pristine white cloth. "Blooming, bullocked, manky piss-artist!"
Jack stared. "Where the devil did you learn that?"
"Mr. Gibbs said it on the crossing over," she said around the finger in her mouth. "He told me all kinds of useful things."
"Do you even know what you just said?"
She lapped uncomfortably at the blood. "Something foul, I imagine."
"I'll have to have a word with him when we return." Jack offered her a handkerchief, which she steadily ignored. "There's no sense in corrupting innocent young ladies."
"His version of corruption is quite harmless when compared to yours, Mr. Kendrick."
"Thank you, Mrs. Kendrick, for that insight." He took the finger out of her mouth and examined it. "You'll live."
"So kind of you to share that with me." Elizabeth put her sewing down and glanced at him from the corner of her eye. He looked to be in a good mood, having recently acted out the third scene of his play for her. "Hermione's husband says that his lordship has need of a messenger."
"Oh?" Jack blinked at her innocently in feigned interest.
"I told her you might be interested."
"You told her what?"
"You need something to do, Jack. I won't have you sitting here writing while I toil at work - and robbing old ladies isn't counting, either."
"I helped her cross the street!"
"You picked her pocket, Jack."
"She didn't have a pocket."
"Purse, then. I saw you do it, Jack."
"I cannot be torn from my writing."
"James Dory isn't buying food, Jack."
He sighed and took the cloth from her, bringing it over to the basin of water kept standing in the corner. He carefully dribbled a bit of the liquid onto it, reaching for a rag to scrub with. "It is not so much to ask of me, is it? Be the happy landlubber for just a little longer, until the whole bloody mess blows over..."
Elizabeth waited for him to return to her, holding out the now-pristine cloth. "How did you do that?"
"I'm Captain Jack Sparrow," he said, smiling vaguely. "I am wise in the ways of... laundry." He looked at her injured finger once more, examining the torn flesh, running his fingers against the skin surrounding it. "You've always had such clean hands, Elizabeth. How do you manage it?"
His nearness abruptly made her shy, then bold. "Be careful, Mr. Kendrick. You're starting to resemble a pirate." She lifted a chunk of his hair up, once again marveling over the transformation. She could close her eyes and see Captain Sparrow... and when she opened them, there would be Jack. Just Jack, she reminded herself. He has no wings here in Dennot. None of us do. "Will your hair lighten in the summer, how that it's not..." She paused, trying to be tactful. "...creative?"
Jack chuckled. "When I was younger and scrabbling about in the rigging it would sometimes start to stripe out. I do hope we'll be gone before that, though."
"Back to the Caribbean," she said. She curled the strand of hair around her finger, then released it. The thought of returning home hadn't honestly struck her yet. "Back home... to normality."
"To your father and your Will," Jack said, and if his smile seemed a little strained, surely she imagined it.
"And then you're off to your Pearl again," she said. "As good as gone."
It looked as though he started to say Well, I... but he seemed to think better of it, instead patting her hand. "You'll have plenty of stories to tell your little... Turner offspring."
The smart thing to do would have been to back away, to go back to her life as she knew it and hope some kind of peace would come to her eventually. The smart thing to do... the smart thing, or the right thing? "Jack, I don't know if I-"
"Of course you do," he said, breaking the contact and smoothly evading her touch. "Come now, what else is there for you? Working as a seamstress all your life? That's not for you, any more than being some rich man's messenger is for me."
"I wanted to be a pirate once," she blurted.
"I know. You told me."
"If I asked you-"
"For a space on Black Pearl? I don't know that I'd turn you down, Miss Swann, but I don't know that you want to put yourself in that... position just yet."
Elizabeth adverted her eyes, quite at a loss as to where the entire moment had come from. Jack turned away, busying himself with collecting the pages of his script. "I will speak to Hermione's husband, if you promise to be quiet for a few days."
She ignored the insult and picked up her sewing again. "I will, if you shall permit me to write a letter to the Commodore, letting him know I am alive."
"I suppose the time is right for that." Jack flashed her one of his brightest smiles. "Can't let poor Corwin fear for you too long, now can we?"
Elizabeth smiled right back at him. "Indeed."
Yes, she'd write a letter to Corwin, but it would not be the first time. If the ship carrying her friendly overture made good time across the Atlantic, then Corwin Norrington would be opening up a missive from a Mrs. Aminita Piangi in just a matter of days.
Port Royal
Lieutenant Macey interrupted one of his sessions with Pintel and Ragetti to deliver the note."A Mrs. Piangi who claims to be a relation of yours" he said, offering it to him. "The captain said it was of utmost urgency. Straight from England, sir."
"England?" Corwin took the envelope as Ragetti tittered.
"Gots a sweet'eart, do ya Commodore?"
"My heart is only for you, Ragetti," he mumbled, not noticing the blush that colored the man's cheeks. The dainty script of the letter was quite familiar...
Dearest Corwin,
It has been some time since last we spoke. Surely you remember your almost-wife, though it was many years ago?
I am well, as is my dear, mad cousin. We are safe, for the time being. I send this to you, rather than your dear friend Weatherby, for he has always been one to jump to action. He will want to bring us to live with him, but I still have relations here - perhaps when dear grandmother passes on.
I do hope that no ill has befallen you or yours.
Cordially yours,
Aminita
"Must be a good'un," Pintel said.
Corwin looked up and smiled, tucking the letter and envelope into his jacket. "Just a note from my cousin. My aunt is dying."
"I'm sorry to hear that, sir," Macey said.
"We all pass on sometime," Ragetti said.
"To the big pirate ship in the clouds."
"Consumption" Corwin said briskly, standing up. "Terrible thing, isn't it? Poor old bat's coughing up her lungs."
"D'ya suppose you'll inherit anything?" Pintel asked.
"Only a host of trouble, Pintel. Only a host of trouble."
He left Macey to finish the line of questioning, making his way back to the surface with his grin still firmly in place. Elizabeth, my dear, sometimes you do astound me.
-
Dennot
Jack left that night to run an errand, for reasons beyond her comprehension, Elizabeth followed him.
She followed him through the little town of Dennot, all the way down to the docks. He ran his errands at night, typically after she went to bed - or at least, when he thought she went to bed. She wondered if he had a lover here: a harbor whore, perhaps? The thought rankled her until she actually realized she was rankled, and almost stopped in her tracks. Why is that bothering me? The man can do as he wishes. Just because we... on an island... well...
Certainly it meant nothing. Just an act. A teacher and a pupil, yes. Elizabeth picked up the pace again. Best to get to the bottom of this. Perhaps there's some attraction to him, particularly now that he's... clean. Yes, Jack Sparrow certainly looked more appealing than ever before. Living in such close quarters with him probably heightened some subconscious urge to mark him as her own.
All the better to get back to the Caribbean and away from such thoughts.
Will, what about Will?
She had scarcely hurried past a docked vessel when a hand jumped out, snatching her arm. "Now, Mrs. Kendrick, what the devil would possess you to go traipsing about these docks when someone could quite easily spirit you away? I hear pirates prey on these parts."
Elizabeth shook off her initial terror and lifted her chin into the air, meeting Jack's gaze squarely. "The only pirate around here, Mr. Kendrick, is yourself."
"How true that is." He linked arms with her and pulled her away from the boxes. "If you've a mind to be wandering the docks at night, at least do so with plenty of protection. One never knows what turns up at the waterfront."
They stopped at an empty slip, and Elizabeth watched the play of moonlight over the softly-moving sea as music spilled out of one of the docked ships. "This is where you come every night."
"I'm only surprised it took you this long to follow me."
"I wanted to give you your privacy."
"That's very gracious of you, Miss Elizabeth."
She held onto his arm. "You come here and watch the ocean?"
"The little ship that holds this slot left the day we arrived," he said distantly. "I saw her go while we walked past. She's not yet returned."
"Will she?"
"A small ship like that, on a very big ocean..." Jack disengaged his arm and wrapped it around her shoulders when she shivered. "...perhaps she found another port."
"A better port."
"Somewhere better for her, where rum runs freely and the riches of the world are at her feet."
"Somewhere warm."
He covered one of her cold hands with his, squeezing gently. "Somewhere bright."
"You want to go home, don't you?"
"And if I did? The opportune moment's not upon us yet, darling, and we both know it." Jack stretched his free hand out to the water, as though beckoning it in. "But it will come, and when it does..." The sound of bagpipes stirred his attention, and he focused instead on the docked merchantman from which the music sounded. "Let's go."
"Go in the ocean?"
"No - aboard!" He was dragging her up the gangway before she could so much as blink, greeting the sailors like they were old chums and lapsing into commentary about their music and their ship. She watched him work with an odd lump in her throat; this, at least, had not changed: Jack Sparrow could still charm the trousers off a commodore if he so chose to. He might as well have had his tongue plated in silver to match his gold teeth.
The music moved through her veins, and soon any thoughts of Will blurred into nothingness.
And they danced.
-
Morning, when they spilled off the ship and staggered up the cobblestones to the Cade residence. Morning, when they laughed and sang the pirate song in hushed tones. Morning, when she flung her arms around his neck and squeezed him. "I had a wonderful time, Jack. Thank you."
"Thank you, Elizabeth. I knew you had it in you." They swayed about the main room, giggling as Jack knocked into things. "So a pirate's life for you now? When we return to the Pearl you'll be aboard?"
"Oh, of course - and I want to pillage Port Royal. Can we pillage, please? Let's pillage." She batted her eyes at him.
"Let it never be said we will not pillage. And when that's done... we can sail the world over like the free men we are. Well," he hastened, "free woman, as well. Free people. Individuals of a free nature..."
A crack of daylight seeped in through the curtains, and Elizabeth felt her jovial mood fading. "I'm sorry, Jack."
"Oh bloody hell, we had such a wonderful night. Must you now be sad?"
"I'm sorry... I'm sorry for taking that away from you." She pressed her hand to his cheek, did her best to smile. "I won't speak of it again, Jack, but - now I understand. Now I know... that freedom... and... you're here, now, away from it. And it is... partially... my fault."
Jack picked up her hands and squeezed them lightly. "Tell you something, Elizabeth Kendrick. There's not a man or woman in this world who could make me do something I've not a mind to do myself - and that includes you. I miss Pearl and her waters, but I know what it is I have to do. You, young miss, have nothing to dow with it. In fact..." He paused, touching her chin with his fingers. "I'm... glad... I had company this time."
-
Next Time, on Silence: Will finds a worthy project, and something unexpected happens between the roommates...
Author Request: Anyone feel like beta-ing a potential Pirates/Phantom crossover? I'm not sure where I'm going with it but if anyone's interested give me a holler.