Chapter 5: A Lifetime Ago
Bullets riddled the water around them, but the pair lost no time in swimming away through the dark waters. When at last they dared make a sound Elizabeth let out a hiss. "I hate this place," she spat, coughing up water. "The water is always so bloody cold."
They found a set of stone stairs, and Jack lent her a hand in climbing up upon them.
"Then why stay?" he dared ask.
Elizabeth let out a long sigh, cautious of such a question. "Nowhere else to go," she finally answered neutrally, a sea of emotions roiling beneath such seemingly mundane words.
Jack chewed upon his lip, unable to overlook the blatant sadness in her voice.
He knew she'd wanted to stay aboard the Pearl, but at the time he couldn't have abided it. His emotions concerning Lizzy had run the full spectrum between hate and love and everything in between in those days. Everything had been so raw after his return from the locker. Too damn vivid. He hadn't been able to think straight with her around, always torn between throttling her and kissing her silly for what she'd done.
Now, years later, the sharp edges of that memory had worn down, dulled by the knowledge that even if Lizzy had been the one to shackle him to the mast, it had been his debt to pay. She'd tricked the trickster, and he'd had it coming.
Maybe the anger had worn away, time and tide, but it seemed one thing still remained.
Longing.
"I couldn't help but notice the bailiff introduced ye as Lady Swann. Would have thought ye'd be married off to a fine lord by now, pilin' up a brood o' wailin' bairns," Jack fished, regarding Elizabeth out the corner of his eye while pouring water out of his boot.
A bitter little laugh escaped Elizabeth. "I've had offers, though the type of man interested in me here is either a fortune hunter or up to his eyebrows in gambling debts. I have quite a reputation now in London society, if you can imagine." Even after Becket's actions had been declared rogue, outside of the King's orders, and her father's death at his hands murder, there were still whispers behind Elizabeth's back. Pirate's harlot, the least of them.
If only they knew the half of it.
Jack raised an eyebrow, that mischievous smirk curling finely formed lips. "You? Surely not."
Elizabeth sighed, wringing water out of her hair. "They're all parading peacocks anyway. Soft-handed lilies, every one. How could I accept a spouse like that, after I've known the taste of a real man? Even if it was a lifetime ago."
Both of Jack's eyebrows jetted up at hearing that, and that treacherous organ, that most bothersome muscle, his heart, proceeded to thump thump rather exaggeratedly.
Whether she meant him or the whelp, Jack was afraid to ask. The melancholy in her words tied his insides in knots.
She crossed her arms, shivering.
"Lizzy…" Tentatively he held out an arm, half expecting to receive a slap for his trouble. Yet to his surprise, Elizabeth scooted closer to him, allowing the comforting embrace about her narrow shoulders. Jack opened his coat to her, and his body heat seared her even through the damp cold.
"Jack," she sighed in kind, resting her head upon his shoulder, feeling a little drunk on the magic of this unlikely reunion, and all too comfortable basking in his warmth. "Tell me something grand. A story of turquoise waters and a place where the sun always shines." She fingered one of his dreds, decidedly blonder than last she saw him. "Is it true? Did you find the Agua de Vida?"
Jack smiled down upon her, gold teeth flashing. "What do you think, luv?"
Suddenly feeling rather bold, she reached up to trace the line of his jaw, frowning at the sore that never seemed to heal. She wondered if it hurt. "You haven't changed a bit, Captain."
"Well luv, I thank ye kindly for that."
"Then the answer's no?"
"Nay, I never found it," he admitted reluctantly. "But it would seem there are several interested parties afoot. King George being not the least of them."
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. "Then you're still going after it?"
"Aye, if I can find a ship."
Alarm crossed Elizabeth's expression. "What of the Pearl?" she whispered, dreading the answer.
A long silence ensued, before Jack finally mustered past the lump in his throat, "Barbossa took her again. And, lost her, so it seems."
Elizabeth closed her eyes, as though she'd been informed of the death of a close friend. "Oh Jack. I'm so sorry." She clasped his hand in hers, and he gripped her just this side of too hard, for just this side of too long.
"S'alright, luv. There are plenty of ships in the sea." But she could tell he didn't really mean it.
They sat there upon the stone embankment for a long time, the river rushing past beneath their boots. The night was chilly, but the silence companionable. Despite everything she wanted to know, Elizabeth was content to share a moment of peace with Jack. It seemed so surreal that he could really be here in London, much less that she was in his arms.
"Why did you come, Jack?" she finally dared ask.
The pirate groaned a little, sorting through all the truths, and the ones he could bear for her to hear.
The first truth was that his compass led him here. As usual, the deuced thing continued to go in circles, sometimes towards Agua de Vida, sometimes towards the Pearl wherever she may be, and sometimes? It pointed North by North East, to a cold little island where he knew a certain Pirate King now resided.
The second truth was that he was just as happy to arrive in time to rescue Gibbs, even if the scamp had stolen his map.
"Someone had to rescue that old tar," he evaded. "Didn't know ye could be counted upon for the task, Your Highness."
"I wasn't sure my testimony would be considered credible. Luckily I had a rapport with the judge," she teased.
"Aye, and received the opportunity to defame Jack Sparrow's name in the process." In a high falsetto he teased, "He only saved me once, your honor." Fixing her with a gimlet stare, he huffed. "What bloody rubbish!"
Elizabeth laughed quietly for his indignation, tilting her face towards his. "If I were to detail every way you've saved me in our acquaintance, Captain Sparrow, the court would have thrown us both out."
Jack's clever fingers stroked the line of Elizabeth's jaw, trailing down her throat, winning a shudder from the usually unflappable Pirate King. "Hmm. So what now, Lizzy darlin'?" Jack asked, his voice low. "We are wet as rats and I do not fancy freezing here in an alley in London. Shall we find us a room and get out of these sopping clothes?"
Elizabeth's breath hitched at the thought, her eyes fixed upon his.
A warm bath with Jack. Just the mere thought of piping hot water and his slick mahogany skin against hers unleashed a frisson of pleasure to unleash down her spine.
Christ, but her imagination had become a powerful thing these lonely days.
Several ticks too late to disguise her interest in the proposition, she instead countered, "Who was that woman? Anjelica? You seem to have a past."
Jack made a face as though he'd tasted something nasty. "Old flame, luv. Positively ancient history. Long before your time."
Elizabeth wondered if Jack was including her in the list of his flames, or simply meant the time of their first acquaintance.
"You loved her."
The pirate beside her made a strangled sound deep in his throat. "I wouldn't go that far…"
"What happened?"
"We were young, and mixed about as well as a tinder box and a keg o' powder." Despite the negative nature of the admission, Elizabeth detected a certain tenderness in Jack's voice as he looked back on his time with Anjelica. It invoked a surprising curl of heat in Elizabeth's belly; a sneaky little pang that took several moments for her to recognize it as jealousy.
You are utterly ridiculous, she scolded herself. But the heart was not a thing to be ruled by reason, and her heart considered Jack her very own pirate.
Elizabeth couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, praying her voice did not betray the embarrassing stirrings inside her. "Like you and I, you mean?"
"Nay, luv. She tried to kill me several times. Where you actually succeeded."
He sounded almost proud about it now, but the reminder struck home like a well-aimed arrow, twisting into her heart. "Jack, I—"
As though he sensed the apology on the horizon and couldn't bear to add such gravity to the moment, Jack placed a finger upon her lips, smiling mischievously. "Like you said, Lizzy. It was a lifetime ago. I'm here now…and you're here, now. You never answered my question about that room."
Jack's long fingers slipped into her hair as he spoke, eliciting the most delicious shudder to gallop down her spine.
Elizabeth was no maiden these days. She'd taken lovers at the worst points of her loneliness, and a man's touch was no longer some great terrifying and titillating mystery. And yet none of them had ever succeeded in making her feel like this, with just the brush of fingers upon the nape of her neck.
Damn you, Jack.
How she wanted to kiss him! And yet as his face slowly lowered towards hers she could not suppress the knee-jerk impulse to quip, "Why Jack. You've been in my company nearly half an hour before making an indecent proposal. That must be a record."
His lips curled in a knowing smile, all too aware of her tactics. He did not let it deter his course towards her lips, his heading true. He'd waited too bloody long and travelled too damn far to lose sight of it now. "Indeed. I must be learning patience in my old age," he answered above her mouth. Their eyes met across the short space that was the length of their noses, the eye-contact jarringly intimate.
"Jack…" she sighed, her insides screwed up with anticipation and fear, unsure if it was a protest or a plea.
Jack smoothed back her wet hair, his touch careful yet gentle, like soothing a nervous animal that might bolt at any moment. His eyes glittered like orbs of onyx in the dark, filled with mystery and promise. "You know, luv, you don't have to fight me all the time."
Torn, she sighed against his lips. "I don't know how not to." Always, it felt as though they should be locked in the full pitch of battle, even when they were getting along, and she simply didn't know how to stop.
"I can show you," he promised, and watched with great satisfaction as at last her eyes slipped shut in surrender.
As he closed in to claim his prize a sudden sharp sting in his back caused him to bolt upright, unleashing a cry of dismay. "What the—"
For a moment Elizabeth regarded him with confusion, until she too received the sharp bite, hers in her shoulder. Instantly the world began to grow foggy. "Jack?" She tried to reach for him, but her hand went an entirely different direction than what her mind commanded. Groggily she groped at the pained area, and pulled free a curious little dart, its feathers bright as jewels, like the plumage of tropical birds.
Before the darkness took them Jack managed a glance behind, beholding two figures standing in a shadowy alcove. One looked dismayingly familiar, tall but slight, her arms crossed over her torso in a gesture of triumph.
"Bugger," he muttered, before losing consciousness completely.
