This chapter contains some Rated M-ish content. Once again, ye be warned.
I was really struck by two songs that fit the mood of this last chapter- "Good-bye to You" by Michelle Branch for Cora and "No Need To Argue" by the Cranberries for Stephen. Listen to them if you like and keep this in mind!
------------------
Chapter Thirteen
But Not Forever
in which a journey ends and a sojourn begins
"...because of your outstanding cooperation and your recent service to the Crown in killing a dangerous fugitive and known pirate, it is with pleasure that I declare you, Coraline Jacqueline Turner, a free woman."
A few people clapped at Jack's improvised speech, Blakeney and Mowett loudest of all. The former prisoner herself just bowed her head in thanks.
It was no surprise that the ship found it hard to rouse any kind of excitement, as the announcement of Miss Turner's freedom came after the reading of the names of Lamb and his mates and before the orders to make sail. As soon as the meager clapping faded the deck was all but cleared. Miss Turner had disappeared from the quarterdeck in the first run- Jack had moved her from the orlop to the great cabin out of a long overdue sense of propriety -but the doctor remained looking a little lost.
"'e's lost for good, he is." Joe Plaice's voice, low as it was, nevertheless managed to startle his relative as he came to stand behind him at the helm.
"I don't know what you're talking about." Bonden responded, although everyone knew.
"It's just what happened wif Davy Jones and all," Joe continued. "'e fell in love wif a woman as untamable as the sea. And look where it landed him."
"I don't know how you can believe in the Bible and stories like that at the same time." Bonden said, although everyone did.
Plaice: I do believe the Bible, and I say she's doubly trouble. We already had our Jonah, I don't know what we done to get ourselves stuck wif another, but I say she's done her job. Sooner she's gone the better.
Bonden: She saved us.
Plaice: One good deed don't cancel all the bad ones. I heard as that old Andersen said that just before Davies gave him the word to try and do her in. Too bad the good doctor smoked it, I say.
Bonden: You forget that he saved your life too. Your idea of gratefulness is right on its head.
Plaice: It ain't the same thing. The doctor is a right good man- he hasn't got sins to pay for. Not many, at least. Not like her. Christ above, I'll be glad to see her go.
Bonden turned in time to see the figure that had been left alone at the entrance to the great cabin approaching the quarter deck once more. They both made their obedience to Doctor Maturin and fell silent out of respect to his silence. The dark shadows of sharks trailed them and he seemed to be watching them; it wasn't a surprise, considering that no one hoped for dolphins anymore.
It was strange to see him alone; she was always with him at the taffrail. The sacredness of the space had leant itself to them, and even though most days Bonden had his back to them it was only natural to sense their closeness to each other and to him. When after some time the surgeon left once more, the sense of loss he felt only grew.
"I'm not sure you're in the right, sir," Barrett Bonden said. "I'm not sure what this ship will be like without her anymore."
The conversation ended once more as the quarterdeck's other holy occupant approached. More obedience- a grave nod.
"Bonden, give me the helm. One of the prisoners has asked permission to go and retrieve something from the Running before we send it on to Port Royal. He was damned secretive about it, so I'll trust your discretion." One of his pistols was pressed into the coxswain's waiting hand.
"Of course sir." He tipped his hat again and saw the tall golden-haired man standing on the larboard rail, waiting with sadness in his eyes. It was only when they sat in the boat skimming across the waves that he thought to look back to the quarter deck, and as he recalled Joe Plaice's words already it seemed a little less holy.
---------
Stephen didn't know how long he stood at the door to the great cabin before he found the courage to knock. The unspecified amount of time was spent half in wondering when the last time he bothered with the formality was and half in wishing he had an elephant he could bring to the door as he had with Diana. As he knocked he reflected that it might be a good thing- they all saw how that one reached its bloody conclusion.
There was just enough time for Stephen to draw himself from his reverie and wipe the sweat from his brow before Cora opened the door just enough to allow him the sight of her face. She said nothing.
"I had wondered if you'd like to take a turn on the deck." Stephen said, wishing there was something else he could say.
She waited another eternity.
"No. I'm not feeling well."
"Not feeling well?" Out of reflex he went to touch her forehead, but she drew back with a flash of anger in her eyes.
"What are you doing?"
"I was trying to determine if you have a fever."
"Don't you realize where we are? This isn't a game."
"I'm afraid you've misunderstood my intentions entirely. This isn't a game. You must remember that I am a doctor as well as a man and if you aren't feeling well then I have twice as much reason for concern." He lowered his voice, realizing that the few men on deck were shooting what they thought were covert glances in their direction. "And if you're so averse to me touching you do you want me to be only a doctor?"
She opened and closed her mouth several times, a thousand emotions and thoughts racing over her face in the space of a few short moments. Then she opened the door to the cabin and pulled him inside, slamming the door behind him. He had barely another moment to breathe before she kissed him, a kiss so hard it seemed to be equal parts hate and love.
He pulled back just enough to soften the kiss without breaking away from her and held her face between his hands. She seemed so fragile between his palms, as if she might break if he held too tightly. Her fingers curled around his wrists soft as a dream and she kept kissing him until the pulse he could just feel beneath his littlest fingers slowed just a little.
"They all know." She whispered. "Don't you see it? They know."
"You said so yourself," He responded, leaving a ghost of a kiss on her forehead. "The morning after. Is that why you're afraid to take a walk on deck?" She nodded slightly and he kissed her again. "Love, you already knew. Don't be afraid."
"There's a difference between knowing it and seeing it in their eyes. Even in the captain's eyes."
Stephen waited before he answered.
"This isn't about what they think. It's about what your mother thought."
She recoiled from him like Jack from a snake, like a vampire from a cross.
"You should leave."
"Your mother was wrong about you-"
"You don't know what she thought of me."
"I see what she thought of you in your eyes. And it's not what I see when I look at you. I see someone worth so much more than they were told."
"Stephen-"
"No! You reached for me, you wouldn't let me go and now it's my turn. That's what you taught me, Cora. You taught me that sometimes one must become a pirate-"
He tried to touch her again but she took another step back.
"Get out. They're still staring."
Stephen never got the chance to respond to her fearful eyes or her pointing finger. The door at his back sprung open and Mr. Mowett nearly ran into him.
"Beg pardon, Doctor. Miss Turner, you should come to the larboard rail."
Stephen tried to take her arm as she hobbled out the door after the lieutenant but she pulled away. She made it all the way to the cluster on her own and stood beside Jack at the rail.
Stephen caught up moments later, as the longboat was near enough to the Surprise to make out Bonden's impassive face and the parcel laid on his chest. He appeared like a warrior laid on his funeral pyre. Jack was shouting orders for poles to go over the side and guide the boat closer to the Surprise's side, and for a few stout sailors to go lift Bonden and his package.
"Why was he on the Running?" Stephen heard Cora ask Mowett.
"One of the prisoners- your uncle, I believe -wanted to get something from her before we sent her on ahead. Bonden was sent with him."
"Then where's my uncle."
That was the discomforting question on everyone's lips, considering what had almost happened the last time they lost one of Cora's relatives.
At last Bonden was aboard and Stephen cleared a circle around him. It only took a moment of searching to find the contusion hidden by Bonden's ample curls. The butt of a pistol or perhaps the hilt of a cutlass, and a blow executed by someone who knew how to send a man into unconsciousness without struggle. It wasn't meant for a killing blow.
"He'll live," Stephen declared. "Someone help me get him below."
Jack was already organizing Howard and the marines for a second foray onto the Running when Blakeney's voice rose above them all.
"Sir, what about the package?"
Most of the movement on deck stopped and all of it slowed as every eye scanned for the unobtrusive brown thing. Jack found it near his feet and lifted it to read the scrap of paper on front.
"It's for Miss Turner," He said softly.
She came forward as she had earlier in the day, but this time she had no idea if she reached for benediction or damnation. Stephen eyed the parcel and the way it passed between their hands. It seemed to have some heft to it, but it wasn't particularly large- a rectangle perhaps half a foot on one side, two inches on the other, and two inches thick. It was wrapped clumsily in canvas and twine.
With trembling hands she opened the folded parchment and read aloud.
Cora-
You can have the last piece. In a perfect world all the rest would've been yours too.
With all my love, and your mother's,
James Starre
Every body was still as she tore away the twine and let the canvas flutter to the ground. In her hands she held a narrow, polished piece of wood that everyone recognized as part of the railing of a ship. Those closest could see the names carved in it: Lone Star and Black Wolf.
"You can have the last piece." Cora whispered again. Then her eyes widened in sudden understanding and every muscle in her went rigid.
"No!"
It was at that moment that the Lone Star Running exploded.
The Surprise came alive with shouts and calls, men running for buckets of water and attacking every wayward spark and flaming piece of wood. Stephen felt no fear at the falling embers. Bonden was awake and moving off unsteadily on his own, promising to see the doctor soon, and Stephen was at Cora's side.
She knelt on the deck, one hand clinging to the railing of the Surprise and the other to the piece of wood in her hands. The last piece. At some time she'd lost her bandana and now she had nowhere to hide. She shook as Stephen knelt behind her and put his hand on her shoulder- at first he thought to look to her wound but then he remembered that he was not only a doctor but a man as well, and then he looked to her eyes. It was then that he saw she shook because she was finally crying.
------------------
It was some days after the suicide of James Starre and after they left the prisoners in Port Royal when they made love again. Stephen was coming back into his cabin after dinner with the gunroom when he saw her sitting on his hammock, her breeches lying nearby on the ground. She was looking at her wound, then looked up when he entered. Their eyes met and the days that had passed melted- they could've been back on Isla Cruces from the way she clung to him, from the way his fingers explored the bend in her knee and the softness of her thigh as if he'd never touched them before. The silent days between, when she hid in the great cabin from heartache and he stayed away from fear of rejection, might never have happened.
It was deep in the night, and everything had a hazy sort of quality. Stephen was kissing her one moment, and then she was on top of him, sliding down and then up, joining them and then wrenching them apart. The hammock swung with the weight of her moving on him, but they never felt in danger of falling; Stephen held her tight around the waist, and Cora kept him grounded.
Release caught him off guard, and he shut his eyes and clenched his teeth to stop himself from calling out. As his breathing slowed, Cora moved to lay on top of him, her head beside his on the pillow. He spread his hands wide over her back and stroked the sweaty skin; he hadn't feel her shudder above him when he climaxed and was about to ask her if she did, but she kissed him sweetly just as he would've spoken. She still had not broken the connection of their bodies.
Some time later Cora came off of him, their skin sticking where it had been pressed together, and moved to stand at the door of the cabin.
"Bells at night are the most lonesome sound." She whispered, hearing the watch changing.
Stephen came to stand behind her, his arms about her waist, and kissed her pale shoulder as she had kissed him on their first morning together, trying to wake her as she had woken him.
"Come back, joy."
He took her hand and led her back to their warm, swinging hammock, and she resisted only a little. They were still for only a moment or two, lying pressed close on their sides, and then Stephen gathered all her hair in his fist and kissed Cora hard, sliding back inside her at the same time without knowing when either of them had become aroused again. He didn't stop until he felt her shake and strain not to call his name- he wished she had -and then they both fell into a boneless state of relaxation.
Cora slid down a bit so she could rest her head under his chin as they had on the night they first kissed. Stephen realized as she teethed on his collarbone absently that the whole night had been spent trying to return to previous moments, previous sensations, and wondered what line they had crossed and when; he fell asleep holding Cora and knowing all too well that they were too far away and far too late to step back over it.
They rose in and out of sleep together, wakened by small things like one another's shifts or a sleepy sounding murmur. When they heard the bells again, he felt Cora try to rise but held her back. Privately, he disagreed with what she had said before; the loneliest sound wasn't that of bells echoing over the empty sea, but of her breath when she was trying to hold back tears.
-----------
He knew before he knew, of course. It was something in the way she moved, in the way she paused climbing the rigging to look out over the sea in the direction they had come, in the way she touched his body and looked into his eyes as if she were trying to memorize him.
Jack just had to say it out loud when they docked at Nassau and the two of them were sitting together at the taffrail. He couldn't let Stephen try and delude himself, try and deny the feeling deep in his gut that no surgery or physic could remove.
"There are many ships leaving this harbor, Miss Turner. I'm sure you could find one to wherever it is you're going."
Cora glanced at the captain for a moment and then surveyed the rest of the crew, who glowered back. No one wanted a woman aboard, even a free one. Her eyes rested on Stephen for the longest.
"I'll have to look around." She replied, her gaze flickering between Stephen and Jack once more.
As they were disembarking, they managed to meet by accident in the crowds at the dock, hidden in the shadow of the Surprise. They stood close together, hands twined, and kissed very lightly.
"I need to think, Stephen." She whispered against his lips. "I need... I need to think."
He nodded and kissed her again, with more pressure this time, like he could pressure her into making the choice he wanted her to.
She pulled back but kept holding his hands, and looked like she wanted to say something. Stephen shook his head and pulled her in for another kiss. They held hands until it became impossible; Cora had walked too far away. She turned back to look at him once, and then kept walking down towards the shore with her arms around herself.
Stephen tried to tell himself that she was only thinking; thinking implied a problem, and a problem implied a crisis, and more than one answer. She was torn, and he was the one tearing her. It gave him a perverse sort of pleasure. She wanted him, she-
He didn't even let himself think the word. He had known what she wanted to say before she walked away. It was the same thing he'd wanted to say to her when she lay fevered in the orlop and he was desperate to see her grey-blue eyes once more. It was the thing that they might never say, but would always lay inside them.
He knew before he knew, of course. Still, it made his heart stop when he saw her in his cabin that night with a small satchel in her hand, sitting on his desk, her eyes serious in the light of one solitary candle.
"I've found a ship."
"Does she have a name and a captain that are terribly prone to very bad puns?"
Cora shook her head. Stephen swallowed thickly.
"Where is she bound?"
"England."
Stephen actually laughed, and for quite a long time. Cora looked away as if in shame.
"Why can't you simply stay with us? We are bound for Portsmouth, Jack received his orders today."
"It could be months before we get back from what I've heard of Lucky Jack Aubrey."
"So will you meet me at the docks waving a handkerchief when the Surprise does return?" He asked with half-hearted hope. "Shall I write you long love letters at sea?"
"I have to go." Her voice turned frantic without warning. "I couldn't be that woman- not now. Maybe not ever. I couldn't stay home make you stockings or have dinner waiting. I've spent my whole life at sea. It's in my blood. But no ship is going to take me. I can't go back to being a pirate, or even a privateer. That life is over." She made a miserable sound and sat on his desk. "I don't belong anywhere."
"That's-" He couldn't finish it. He sat and watched her for just a moment, and realized it as surely as she had. She was an anomaly, like a tropical bird adrift in the arctic, the last of her breed.
He sat beside her on the desk, just far enough away to feel a stranger.
"So you're...?"
"Tomorrow morning. I couldn't wait any longer. If I did..."
"Would staying here be such a terrible thing?"
"Stephen-"
"I'm sorry." He said, taking her hand.
She pulled her hand away, then guided his so it rested on her cheek. She turned to kiss his palm, and then his wrist. She undid every button on his vest and pushed it off him, then drew his shirt over his head, and set his spectacles carefully to the side. His damask stock fluttered to the ground. Every movement was a tempo somewhere between fast and slow, not urgent but not languorous. He almost called it matter-of-fact, and then realized it was deliberate. He already had her shirt off and bent to her breast, making her fingers tremble as she tried to unlace his breeches.
In the end he had to stand so his clothes could come off, and when they were both naked and gleaming in the candlelight, he was at just the right height to push himself inside her, still sitting on the desk. Her legs went around his waist and pressed him further. Her head sought his shoulder and she clung to him for that breathless moment when they were simply joined, unmoving. And then he stirred and broke the moment; her legs tightened around him, driving him inside hard enough to hurt, and still not hard enough, not fast enough, because nothing could erase the conviction in her head. They muffled ragged gasps with a ragged kiss.
Cora leaned back slowly from Stephen as he drew himself out of her. She cried out suddenly, and not in pleasure this time, as her hand landed in the pool of hot wax forming on his desk. In instants he was the doctor, checking to make sure she hadn't burned herself. He saw nothing worse than red skin, and became the lover again and kissed it very tenderly. The candle shuddered and died.
"I'm sorry." He whispered in the darkness.
Cora sat up and ran her hands down the length of his body, over his chest and the plane of his stomach and along his thighs. Her right hand drifted to rest over his heart as she replied.
"So am I."
-----------
He knew before he knew, of course, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt like hell when he watched her go. He hurt all over, a desperate soreness, as they readied the boat that would lower her down. It was a dull, slow, steady ache.
When it was ready, the whole crew backed away, even Jack. For a moment it was awkward, just the two of them standing there at the edge of the wooden world that was the Surprise, the boat swaying in the air beside them as ominous as a storm cloud, but then their eyes met and it was the most natural thing in the world.
They both felt the tears. It gave Stephen a moment of confusion- it wasn't the first time a woman had brought him to tears but it was the first time it had happened with witnesses present. He'd almost recalled himself when Cora smiled and laughed and cupped his cheek, wiping them away.
"Did you know my mother used to say the whole ocean was made of tears, and that was why it was salty?" Her hand slid down to grasp his neck and she pulled him close so that their foreheads leaned together. "No more tears, dearest. Don't cry. I've never seen you cry. I already had a picture of you in my mind, the one I want to remember, and you'll spoil it now."
"And what picture was that?"
"Do you really want the whole crew to know?"
They both laughed, and then Cora wrapped her arms around Stephen's waist under his coat. She was tall enough with her boots on that they stood almost cheek to cheek.
"Don't cry," She whispered in his ear, leaving a butterfly kiss on the rim. "I'm leaving now, but not forever. No parting is forever."
It was those words, and not a good-bye, that were the last she spoke. Unconscious of the crew behind them, Stephen caught Cora's lips one last time. It wasn't a satisfying kiss- brief, dry. The wind was picking up, tangling Cora's hair, swaying the boat enough so that it creaked, reminding them it was time.
Everyone knew they were ready- but could anyone ever really be ready for something like this? -and so two crewmembers stepped forward to lower the boat. Stephen glanced at the rest of the crew and expected them to be anxious with the fear of losing the tide, but they only stood with their eyes cast down like witnesses at the site of an accident.
Jack helped Cora into the boat and she touched her knuckle to her forehead in a brief salute. He nodded to her and then stepped back to allow them to lower it.
They barely made it two feet when something went wrong with the pulleys. Stephen wanted to take it as a sign of divine intervention but stopped himself. He almost ran to the railing but held himself where he was. He already had his image of her in his head, the one he wanted to remember forever- and it was of her standing before him with the wind in her hair and tears on her face, smiling.
In the end it was the image of her stepping out of the boat and onto the shore and walking away without looking back that never left Stephen Maturin. It remained before his eyes for so long he wasn't even aware that the Surprise had started moving until Jack came to stand beside him and put his hand on his shoulder.
"Shall we go and play, Doctor? I'm with child to play that Corelli you like so much."
"No," Stephen replied. "But a little Vivaldi wouldn't go amiss on such a fine day."
Jack smiled knowingly and clapped him on the shoulder, then walked away, leaving Stephen at the railing once more. He wanted to imagine he could still see Cora on the shore but he had lost track of the exact spot. There was still a dull ache in her absence, and the dry tears were pulling his skin tight around his skull. He mused a moment on her comment- that the whole ocean was made of tears. It was disheartening to think that the world had seen so much sorrow. At the same time it was comforting- they were not alone in theirs.
Stephen turned away from the railing and caught the sound of Jack tuning in the great cabin. He must've left a window open on purpose, trying to call him down and away from the empty boat laying idle on the deck, salt water leaking out around it. Oddly enough, no one had gone to mop it up yet, and it remained a sacred place of piratical disorder on the otherwise pristine world of the H.M.S Surprise.
He'd join Jack soon enough. He was content to be alone for now. Because he knew before he knew, of course, that they would have to part... but not forever.
-Fin-
--------------------
A/N-- I really hope you all enjoyed this fanfiction, because it has been an absolute joy to write. It's been such a joy that it has, in fact, spawned a sequel. DUN DUN DUN! Make sure to keep a weather eye out for Saltwater for Blood!
I must give an enormous shout-out to all my reviewers-
FuchsiaII, who was there from the very beginning
silverwolf of the night, who was there even before that
Kelly Tolkien, for her enthusiasm and general Irish-ness
Snape's Opera Rose, for making me laugh
Oriana, for discovering it when I needed support the most
