Fourth Chapter – Quicksilver smile
Despite the less than enthusiastic response to the last chapter I am charging on, sword drawn, ready to combat the evil and perilous world of fanfiction. THIS CHAPTER IS OFFICIALLY DEDICATED TO QUILHAN and MANY, MANY thanks to quilhan, because without her, this chapter probably wouldn't be here. Anyway it's a bit weird and confusing (PM me if you're completely lost!) I know a lot of you are going to hate it, but review anyway and make me happy, ok?
Oh, and Happy Holidays!
+Only skim the surface, the deep waters are dangerous.
I see you construct a wall of words, but that won't keep the monster out.
You're the one I see when I close my eyes.
I know my name is branded on your heart+
The dark-haired old woman glared disdainfully at the pair on the floor and gestured quickly for them to follow her. Tia Dalma seemed to materialize in the middle of the corridor, but it was more likely that she'd just come forth from a convenient linen cupboard. Barbossa also appeared from another alcove. They followed the mysterious woman, all looking shaken by the ordeal. Will could almost feel Elizabeth bristling with indignation beside him, he doubted a man had ever turned her down. For some reason that thought made him smile. He chanced a glance at her and saw that he was correct, resentment and frustration lined her perfect tanned face.
The woman was pulling a motley array of mugs out of her cupboards by the time the four of them emerged into the kitchen after her. Elizabeth took her chance to study the woman while her back was turned. Not by any stretch of the imagination was she a young woman, this was obvious with the amount of grey that was threaded through her close-cropped black curls. She also walked with a limp. But there was something about her, something that triggered a spark of recognition in Elizabeth's mind.
"Do I know you?" asked Elizabeth, sitting down in a chair near the kitchen fire.
"I don't know you." Said the woman, turning around. Her weather-beaten face was smooth. Was it just Elizabeth's imagination or did her dark eyes flick towards Barbossa?
Barbossa was leaning against the doorframe, looking uncommonly flustered.
"Er…Cer – " He began, he was cut off as the woman dropped the cup in her hand. It smashed on the floor, making a loud sound through the quiet kitchen.
"It's Catlyn, actually, and I know why you've come." She said, not looking at him, but looking down at the pretty porcelain cup that was in pieces on the floor.
"I always knew you had it. D'you have it here?" He asked eagerly, straightening and looking considerably more comfortable.
Elizabeth looked around at the room, wondering if any of the others were as confused as she was. Will was frowning at the pair and was definitely lost, but Tia Dalma was as calm as ever and even had a small smile on her face. Catlyn shot Barbossa a malicious smile.
"I don't have it." She said, not looking concerned at all.
"Who does?" replied Barbossa looking positively aghast.
"I gave it to Bootstrap." She answered smugly. She turned away from him and filled the kettle with water.
"Bill Turner?" Barbossa cried in consternation, while Elizabeth's heart gave a queer little jump at the name. "But he's dead. Sunk to the bottom of Davy Jones' Locker, carried down by a cannon tied to his bootstraps…" Barbossa whispered, horrified at this unexpected turn of events. Catlyn looked slightly stunned by that relavation and there was a hint of what could have been pity or guilt or sadness in her deep eyes.
"No, he's not." Said Will and Elizabeth in unison. Tia Dalma smiled as the two looked at each other in surprise.
"He's not dead. He's part of Davy Jones' crew and set to serve an eternity of service." Continued Will, looking away from Elizabeth.
Elizabeth looked back to the fire where Catlyn was settling the kettle over the flames.
"So it seems we have a need to find Davy Jones again." Said Tia Dalma, who'd been quiet for a surprising amount of time. A slow smile curled around her blackened teeth as the saw the group watching her.
x-x
They weren't given a bed for the night, but instead decided to set out while the night was still young. Catlyn was accompanying them for her own reasons, reasons that she hadn't bothered to explain to anyone else. It was raining again as they emerged into the dark streets. None of the group spoke, no one having anything to say. Catlyn limped alongside Elizabeth, clad in comfortable men's clothes not unlike Elizabeth's.
Eventually they came to the docks and Elizabeth was surprised to feel relief at seeing the familiar cream-white sails of their stolen merchant ship, the Lady Dragonfly. It kind of felt like home when she climbed aboard and walked across the creaking timbers to see the sun beginning to rise against a pale pink sky. She vaguely wondered whether they'd got what they'd came for and wondered what was the item that Catlyn had possessed and then given to Will's father. A yawn stretched her mouth and she decided to worry about it later. Instead of setting off for her hammock as she normally would have done, she headed for the infirmary intending to sleep in the proper cot rather than the swaying hammock. As she went down there she saw Will emerging from the kitchen with a bottle of what looked suspiciously like rum in hand.
"Are you alright?" He asked catching her arm as she attempted to brush past him.
She looked at him and saw the concern darkening his brown eyes. Frustrated, she yanked her arm out of his grip. She hated being the helpless maiden, but at the moment it seemed that she was only a damsel in distress to Will. She didn't say anything, only raised a significant eyebrow at the bottle in his hand. He looked at the bottle as if only just realizing it was there and blushed. Elizabeth felt her heart soften a little, he always looked adorable when he was embarrassed. She didn't let that show on her face, but instead cast a contemptuous look at him and swept off haughtily. As if she was still the Governor's daughter and he the Blacksmith's apprentice.
As if they weren't both outlaws and pirates.
Collapsing on the cot, she let a tear slip from under her closed eyes. Why did everything have to go so terribly wrong? Upset though she was, it wasn't long before she sank into sleep…
//The gypsy girl felt a tear slip down her face as she remembered watching Jack fade away into the distance, marooned on a forsaken island. Angrily she brushed it away and continued to pack her things into a bag. Then she came upon a small black bag that Jack had told her to keep from Barbossa. Wondering what was inside, she up-ended it onto her cot. A breathtaking ruby rolled out and nestled in her bedclothes, sparkling innocently in the faint candlelight. She gasped with awe and picked it up, her brown fingertips caressing it's smooth surface. Where did Jack get this and why was she to hide it from Barbossa, she questioned, amazed at its beauty.
"Cerys?" came a voice from just outside the cabin. She panicked, recognizing Hector's voice and stuffed the ruby it to the first place she could think of; down her shirt. She also sat on the items she had packed into the bag, spreading her skirts to cover them. She knew that Hector would have a fit if he knew that she intended to leave.
"Yes?" she answered breathlessly, and he came into the cabin.
"I was just wondering if you've seen a small black bag anywhere? I've lost something, that's all." He asked, and Cerys felt a chill slip down her spine.
"No, I…I haven't" She stammered, hoping he wouldn't see through the lie.
He must have taken her distress for grief and his face softened.
"I still love you." He said gently.
She looked away from him, not trusting her eyes to keep secret the burning hate she felt towards him.
The dreamscene changes…
It was pitch-black night outside as the gypsy girl prepared to escape. She'd packed her bag and packed supplies into the long boat and was attempting to lower it down.
It was far too heavy for her thin frame and she slid on the wet deck. It almost pulled her over the side when someone grabbed the rope and held it fast. She gasped in horror, convinced she was about to be caught and betrayed.
The figure didn't speak and she could barely make out his features in the dark night. He looked somewhat familiar and a spark of recognition kindled in her mind.
"Bill…Bootstrap?" She asked.
"Aye." The figure said heavily, coming into the circle of light cast by the lantern.
"Oh, thank the lord" She sighed in relief. Then a sudden thought struck her." You won't tell Hector will you?"
Bill saw how vulnerable she looked in the lantern light and couldn't have denied her anything.
"'Course not." He said gruffly. " So, you are leaving then."
She smiled faintly and looked out into the open ocean.
"I can't stay." She whispered.
Silently he helped her lower the long boat down into the dark ness.
Cerys, felt the surprisingly heavy burden of the black bag inside her shirt. It was as if it was burning a hole through her pocket. The beginnings of an idea stirred in her mind.
"Wait, Bootstrap," She called and he turned back to her. "Will you keep something for me?" She asked and he nodded. She withdrew the black bag reluctantly but convinced herself that Hector would never suspect Bootstrap of having it. He held the heavy bag lightly in his hand and looked up at her though puzzled brown eyes.
"What is it?" He asked.
"Nothing much." She lied, smiling tightly. "Just whatever you do, don't let Barbossa have it."
"Why?" He said, his young face innocent and naïve.
"Because Jack didn't want him to." She replied, wondering vaguely if she was doing the right thing.
She ignored her misgivings and threw the rope ladder over the side of the ship. He was still standing there idly playing with the bag in his hands when footsteps rang out loudly in the silence of the ship. The faint light of another lantern bobbed its way towards them.
"Go," She hissed at him. "Otherwise they'll know you helped me."
He hesitated, looking unwilling to leave a fair maiden in danger.
"I'll be fine." She assured him, flashing a quicksilver smile and pushing him lightly back into the darkness. She waited until the sound of his footsteps had faded away and looked back at the figure carrying the lantern.
"Cerys?" It was Hector, she was sure of it and it couldn't have been any worse. He called her name again and the bitter hurt in his voice was almost too much to bear. Almost.
She swung a leg over the wooden railing and tried to feel for the first rung of the rope ladder. A feeling of intense terror ripped through her as her foot felt through empty space. Then she made the mistake of looking down and froze. Her head swam dizzily and she clung with all her strength to the wooden railing. Hector came close enough to see her in the circle of light cast by his lantern and a terrible look of fury overcame his features.
"No." He growled and started towards her, intent on forcefully pulling her back to his side. The girl felt a wild feeling of recklessness emerge from somewhere and squashed down her fear. She climbed back onto the deck, relishing the firm wood under her feet.
"What are you going to do?" She asked mockingly. "Locking me up won't make a difference. I don't love you and removing the man I did love hasn't changed that." She ignored the growing fury on Barbossa's face and continued heedlessly. "You're a worthless, horrid, loathsome man, Hector, and I don't know why I ever loved you."
Drunk on recklessness and power she pushed him too far. The loud crack of a pistol shot cut off her tirade.
She staggered backward, looking with incredulity at the gaping hole in her thigh that was streaming blood. The man still holding the smoking pistol looked almost as horrified and only watched transfixed as the force of the shot carried her back over the rail and into the depths of the dark ocean. He watched the gypsy girl swim to the long boat and collapse into it, trying very hard to justify what he'd done.//
x
Warm sunshine and a soft breeze filtered through the open windows. The offices of the East India Trading Company were busy as usual, but today Cutler Beckett was relaxing in his chair. His hand rested lightly on the ever-beating heart to reassure himself that it was still there. He sipped from a teacup and sighed comfortably. Behind him a nameless old painter dabbed in a couple of new islands on the map of the world. It was almost finished, he thought, not only the map but also the plan that he had executed so effortlessly. There was only a few… minor irritations to clear up. Elizabeth Swann for one. His thoughts lingered on the beautiful, spirited girl he had met so briefly. It was a pity she had to die, but she was an convicted criminal after all. Weatherby Swann would surely understand.
"Mr Mercer," He called to the enigmatic man that loomed outside in the corridor. "My scheme is almost complete. Call a carriage, I have a need to visit the governor's mansion."
The mansion, as seen from the window of a carriage, was a total mess. Just like its Master, Weatherby Swann.
There was no footmen in sight to open the door but Cutler Beckett entered anyway. To his surprise a murmur of conversation reached his ears, it appeared that the old man had a guest. Beckett's men cleared a path through the music stands, wedding decorations, seating and empty platters that must have been prepared for a wedding and reception. There was no doubt in his mind as whose wedding it was.
His men introduced him into the sitting room casually as if it wasn't he that intruded into the Governor's home. He should have known that it would be the ex-commodore visiting, thought Beckett, wondering not for the first time where the man's loyalties lay.
"What a pleasant surprise." He said, with only the slightest hint of sarcasm in his voice. "Just the two men I wanted to see."
The men nodded warily and waited for him to announce the reason for his presence. Lord Beckett strode around the small sitting room, making the men increasingly uncomfortable.
"I am setting off upon a great voyage that both of you will be required to attend. Mr Norrington as an employee of the East India Trading Company and Mr Swann as a criminal convicted of attempting and mostly succeeding to free a woman convicted of crimes against the King. Mr Mercer will make sure you don't forget to be on my ship the Enterprise. Tomorrow at 11 sharp." He smiled, taking careful note of their facial expressions. Swann looked duly horrified at the thought of being prisoner aboard ship, but Norrington's face was blank and expressionless.
A smart man that knows the danger of being caught in my business, thought Beckett, with the slightest hint of respect for the man. He left the men to flounder in the tangled politics and intrigue of the plans of the East India Trading Company and emerged into the sunshine with a light heart and high spirits.
The sea was nearly his.
x-x-x
Norrington watched the old man walk around the room, frowning a little at the broken figure of a once powerful man. Weatherby Swann's hands fluttered anxiously over the gold-rimmed porcelain cups, making sure that the last remnant of his daughter was still intact.
Norrington had seen men like this before, going slowly mad with inaction and despair. He scrubbed a hand over his pleasantly clean face and sighed. Swann picked up a small bouquet of wilting flowers and turned back to the ex-commodore.
"What does he want from me?" He asked quietly, referring to Lord Beckett and his plan.
"I don't know." Lied Norrington, while his mind screamed leverage. It was so obvious that Beckett would and could use Weatherby Swann to make Elizabeth do anything.
Swann knew he was lying and it showed in his eyes. He turned away again, back to the window, still holding his daughter's wedding bouquet in one hand.
"There is always hope." Said Norrington, as much to himself as to the man at the window.
He wondered to whom he was loyal in this situation. Governor Swann trusted him and Lord Beckett did not. And what of Elizabeth, whom he may have loved once. Would he save her given the chance?
Maybe he should be only loyal to himself. That would make life so much simpler.
x-x-x
Will hadn't slept for days and it showed in his tired face. After Elizabeth had disregarded him early in the morning when they got back, he'd sat up and looked at the bottle of rum in his hand. Not daring to drink a single drop. He'd ventured into the captain's cabin hoping to puzzle out what was going on. But, 'Captain' Barbossa wouldn't let him sit, preferring to watch him struggle to stand, swaying with tiredness.
"What was it you wanted to ask me, Master Turner?" asked the Captain, leaning back in his chair, his face shadowed and mysterious in the dim light of the cabin.
"What is it my father has that you seek, Barbossa?" Asked Will, leaning heavily on the desk. "And where exactly are we going at the moment?"
"At the moment we are headed towards Port Royal, so we can wrestle the heart out of the hands of Beckett the gutless weevil." He chuckled quietly to himself and sipped from a bottle on the desk. "Then we shall take the heart and 'negotiate' with Davy Jones for your father and possibly even the return of the Pearl from the depths of the ocean."
Will opened his mouth to ask about the 'item' his father apparently had and its use, but Barbossa held up a hand and spoke.
"Don't be impatient, boy. I was coming to that. You'd be better to speak to Tia Dalma 'bout the ruby." He said.
"The ruby?" repeated Will, still swaying.
Any shred of patience that Barbossa might have had vanished in a instance.
"Get yourself out of my cabin, boy. Go get some sleep and don't come back until you're coherent and can stand up straight." He yelled, feeling tempted to throw the bottle in his hand at the young man. He didn't. Mostly because he wanted to drink it.
Will reluctantly left and squinted outside in the sunlight. He sank down against the railing, because he didn't have the energy to visit Tia Dalma or go below and find his hammock.
Catlyn was sitting nearby, whittling at a small piece of wood and attempting to ignore the two idiots behind her. Pintel and Ragetti were happily baiting the newest member of the crew, calling her an old grandmother and a hag and other mindlessly cruel names. Well, Pintel was calling her names while Ragetti echoed him and giggled madly.
Catlyn tried to stop the rising fury building up inside her but the annoying sound of Ragetti's mad giggles was too much.
"William!" She called to him. He jerked awake from his half-doze and looked up from where he begun to fell quite comfortable. "Throw me that oar, please." He looked around and spotted a loose oar on the deck beside him. He picked it up and threw it to her, a task that took all his strength. She caught it easily but continued to stare at him.
"Are you alright?" She asked, inadvertently echoing the words he'd spoken to Elizabeth last night. He just glared, but it seemed words enough to her and she shrugged and turned to the tormentors. Pintel and Ragetti looked suddenly worried at the ease at which she held the blunt wooden oar in her hands. Ragetti fumbled at his belt for his sword but she was too fast. With a smooth sweeping motion she swung the oar around and smacked him on the head. He fell to the ground with a dull thud.
"Oi!" said Pintel, quivering indignantly, "You can't do that."
"Not scared of an old granny are you?" She replied sweetly.
He pulled out his sword and caught her first blow. Will watched them through half-closed eyes. She wasn't strong and her thin arms shook with every blow she blocked. But she fought like she was dancing, agile and waving her arms around smoothly. She wasn't very good in the grand scheme of things, but she was artful enough to beat Pintel. True enough she struck him between the legs, but sword fighting was all about knowing your enemy's weak spots, wasn't it.
"Jack taught you." He said to her as she returned to whittling. The knife slipped and a bright slash of crimson appeared across her thumb.
"No, Hector taught me." She said lightly, not looking up from her thumb.
"Barbossa?" He mumbled sleepily. "Well, Jack taught Barbossa then."
"Maybe." She conceded. "How can you tell?"
He smiled drowsily.
"You wave your arms too much."
She remembered learning to fight with a sword. It was one of the first things she learned upon the Black Pearl…
//The sun beat down on her young arms. Her bare shoulders gleamed with sweat. Hector swung the sword, darting it up towards her throat. She hesitated and that was the only instant he needed. The sword flashed bright across her vision, forcing her backwards. She tripped over her own feet and landed heavily on her backside, Hector's sword at her throat.
He sighed exasperatedly and helped her up.
"Your footwork's awful, lass." He said. He turned to their other companion.. Jack was staring out at the horizon, not paying attention at all. "Can ye help her Jack?" he asked.
The Captain turned around and frowned at her.
"Ye can dance can't ye?" He said.
She nodded.
"Well it's much the same." He took her sword and tossed it to Hector, who caught it without a word. He was very used to humoring his Captain.
Jack took her hands, looking down at her feet so he didn't notice how red she flushed at the simple gesture.
"If I step here, then you step… there" He said, nudging her into place. He came closer and put his hand on her waist. They circled and she caught on quickly. She'd always been good at dancing…
She could feel his callused palm on her waist and it made her heart jump queerly. He looked up at her and smiled easily. She returned it because his smiles were infectious, but it didn't ease the strange feeling inside. In fact it made it quite worse.
"Catlyn?" Someone was calling but it didn't matter, it was just her and Jack.…//
"Catlyn." Will called again. Catlyn started from her daydream and looked at him blankly.
"Catlyn?" He asked and she still looked decidedly blank. Then a thought occurred to him, "That's not your name, is it?" He said.
She jumped and realised he was talking to her. Then she went red.
"No, no it's not." She whispered blushing like the fool she was.
He grinned agreeably at her discomfort.
"What is your name then?" said a voice from behind them.
Elizabeth had emerged from the infirmary and was untangling her hair from the rag that it had been bound in. She looked at 'Catlyn' with a hint of confusion in her face.
"Elizabeth, I wish to apologize for before…" Will began, suddenly far more alert than he had been with the older woman. Elizabeth didn't even look at him and strode purposely away between 'Catlyn' and him. Will was too busy staring hopelessly at Elizabeth to notice a sudden look of wild fury pass across 'Catlyn's' face.
She picked up the oar lying on the ground beside her and knocked Elizabeth to the ground with a heavy blow to the stomach. Elizabeth fell to the ground wheezing indignantly. Will was on his feet instantly, all tiredness forgotten. 'Catlyn' watched the sword in his hand warily. She raised the oar defiantly but still looked distinctly opposed to fighting.
"What was that for?" He asked, walking around Elizabeth and standing between the women.
"If she scorns love now, she'll end up alone and not know how she got there." 'Catlyn's' weather-beaten face was twisted with a mix of concern and frustration. Her sharp black eye's bored into his own. He stepped back dizzily and gasped as he was suddenly surrounded by 'Catlyns'. Five identical women glared back at him, their movements merging. The sky around him darkened and an eerie fog made the figures around him even more menacing. He heard Elizabeth cry out in terror and turned back to her, only to find that another Catlyn blocked the way. He slashed his sword and it parted the woman as though there was nothing there. Then a sword hilt crashed into his head from behind and he fell, his sword clattering on the deck.
"I'm getting too old for this." The woman moaned, then there was just one Catlyn and she was swaying, her face haggard with exhaustion. The fog cleared and the sky lightened again. She sat heavily on the deck, dragging her hands through her black-grey hair.
"Are you mauling my crew, Cerys?" asked Barbossa from the doorway to his cabin.
"Cerys?" Elizabeth gasped behind him. " I know you are. You're the girl … Barbossa's…." She stopped and looked between the two. "I had a dream."
She looked away from the two and back to her lap. Will couldn't help but watch her closely as she ran her hands through her loose golden-brown curls.
"That's why you hit me, because you think what I'm doing is the same as what you did." She didn't wait for an answer, "Well, it's not. The situation is very different. I kissed him to save us. You kissed him because you wanted to."
"Are you saying you didn't want to kiss him?" asked Cerys angrily. "I thought I loved him as much as you do now. And if you don't love him then why did your engagement fall apart?" Elizabeth flinched as Cerys shot the words at her like knives.
Will came to the conclusion that they were talking about Jack. He should have known that by her connection with Barbossa, Catl – Cerys would have been connected to Jack. He looked at Elizabeth, she looked as if she was holding back tears.
"Do you love him?" he asked, very surprised at the words that just popped out of his mouth. Elizabeth gaped at him for just a moment too long. He looked away because the answer was clear in her eyes.
"No, wait. Will, I don't love him. Wait, it isn't like that. Will!" Elizabeth scrambled to her feet ready to go after him as he disappeared below, but someone caught her arm. Barbossa released her after she turned to him.
"Leave him, he'll learn to cope without you." He said, looking almost angry with her. Cerys had the identical expression as she stood with the aid of the oar and limped off.
"Did you ever learn to live without her?" Elizabeth asked sharply, nodding her head towards Cerys. Barbossa frowned and his blue eyes darkened, but he didn't answer. They all left eventually. Even Pintel stopped sniffling around on the ground and scuttled off.
Elizabeth felt the beginnings of shame stir in her mind. She'd never meant to hurt Will, but surely pretending to love him when she didn't was even worse. But maybe she did love him, or maybe she loved Jack. Why couldn't she just love neither…or even both? Aching sadness and mindless fury had dragged her heart and her spirits down to the very bottom… They all thought it was so simple, when it was quite the contrary … It was very complicated.
x-x
Well I don't really have much to say here. People think I talk too much anyway. But maybe if I tell you to review you will…or maybe you won't and I'm just being a pointless idiot anyway. So I hope you enjoyed it and look forward to the next instalment. There I said something (AGAIN) and I'm very sorry because it's kinda annoying I know…