Okay, first of all, everyone needs to calm down, take deep breaths and stop panicking. Elizabeth, (the reviewer, not the character!) I know it's looking a bit unlikely for our favourite couple to get back together, but I promise they will. I just don't think Elizabeth should get off the hook that easy. She made some very nasty mistakes and she's going to pay!
All my stuff about ships ect. is mostly made up and probably defies all laws of gravity, nature and proper ship combat…Feel free to correct me, but unless it's really important I'm not going to change anything.
And the longest wait on an update I can blame on our beach-house (It has no Internet connection) So, the beach is very nice and hope this chapter is too.
I've finished my usual rant and this is the part where I shamelessly beg for reviews…
Please, please, please!
x
Seductive curls of heady sweet smoke vanished up into the daylight as Elizabeth pushed the door open. She slipped into the all-consuming darkness, not daring to make the slightest noise. Things hung from the ceiling, unimaginable things, disgusting things, weird things in bottles. A smouldering pipe lay on the table, sending out the sickeningly sweet smoke that was making Elizabeth feel drowsy. The table was cluttered with knickknacks and gewgaws and old jewels and jars and gaudy-bright gold pieces. Elizabeth reached down to touch a crumpled piece of parchment with a broken seal and dark rimmed eyes snapped open in the shadows.
"What you be doing in my cabin, girlie?" drawled a voice heavy with sleep.
"Tia Dalma!" Elizabeth exclaimed, her heart thudding madly against her chest. "I didn't see you there."
Tia Dalma stood and lit the lantern hanging from the ceiling so she could see the girl better. Elizabeth had visible tear tracks running down her patchy sunburnt cheeks, so wordlessly Tia bundled the girl into a chair and began to make another cup of tea. She'd known that it was all going to end in tears. Jack Sparrow wasn't a nasty man, just a difficult one and Tia had seen him come between marriages before. That man had no limits, which wasn't perhaps a good thing.
She'd have given the girl her blessing with Jack, not that it would have held anything together, but for the boy. There was something about him… he deserved to marry the girl he wanted and would have if Beckett hadn't come between them. Shaking off her thoughts she grabbed a dusty brown bottle from the table and shook it. The answering magical tinkle of liquid made her smile fondly. She poured a healthy dose of rum from the bottle into the tea and passed it to Elizabeth.
"She got ye didn't she." Tia said suddenly, looking a bit frustrated, "Show me the hurt." Then she pulled Elizabeth from her chair and started to undo the girl's tunic. Elizabeth spat the tea and rum mixture all over herself and quietly attempted to protest. Needless to say the protests died out pretty quickly under Tia's firm stare. Gradually Tia revealed the growing black and blue bruise over Elizabeth's ribs. She sighed loudly.
"Cerys dinna mean teh really hurt yeh." She vanished back into the shadows of her cabin muttering to herself loudly.
"She hit me with an oar." contradicted Elizabeth, albeit a little quietly. She didn't intend to invoke Tia's wrath. "How is that not meaning to hurt me…"After a few minutes Tia returned, carrying a small wooden box and a darkish jar of ointment.
"You'll mend." Tia said softly after the sharp-smelling ointment was applied. A knock sounded, cutting off Elizabeth's curt reply and Will came into the cabin. For a moment Elizabeth wondered why he was staring at her and then she realised that her shirt and tunic was still only half on. It was rolled up past her stomach, over her ribs, almost completely revealing her… She wrenched the shirt down, tearing a couple of seams and did up her tunic with shaking fingers.
"Er, Barbossa sent me to ask you about the ruby…?" Will said to Tia, with his gaze pulled firmly away from Elizabeth's figure.
"Ah. The Ruby." Said Tia a grin pulling at her blackened mouth. "The ruby is how you do be getting Jack back from de gods. You will barter the ruby, cause as the law goes: In exchange for one soul from the dead lands a blood sacrifice must be paid to the Lords of the Dead. The ruby will be our blood sacrifice."
"How is this ruby a blood sacrifice?" asked Elizabeth, becoming drawn into the story.
Tia grinned almost flirtatiously at Will, who was slowly falling asleep at the table and turned back to Elizabeth.
"In a long time past," She started; the meagre lantern light made her eyes deep and shadowed. "that ruby was born of metal and fire and blood. Many coveted that ruby, for it was a fair thing then and still is now. Eventually that desire for the jewel won over honour and peace and there was a great war among men. Much innocent blood was split over that ruby and so it will appease the great Lords of the Dead. But there is one thing you also must know." She leaned closer to the pair of them across the table. "With the ruby come a terrible curse of bad luck to the bearer. Any person who bears the ruby shall have bad luck while they carry the dreaded object."
"So the ruby will save Jack." Elizabeth mused half to herself.
"It was cursed and Cerys gave it to my father?" asked Will sounding more awake and slightly indignant.
"I didn't know it was bad luck." growled a voice from the doorway. Cerys strode into the crowded cabin. "Though I might have guessed. Considering that when Jack had it he was viscously mutinied upon." Elizabeth noticed that she failed to mention that she had probably been the cause of that mutiny. "…and though I only had it for a short while I was shot and only survived by accident."
"And when my father had it he was sunk to the bottom of the ocean unable to die and then press-ganged into Davy Jones crew." Will added broodingly.
"Aye." She nodded, with that same expression of pity and guilt and sadness that she had whenever anyone spoke of Bootstrap. Absentmindedly she took the smoking wooden pipe from the table. Looking up she realised they were all watching her movement.
"Continue by all means." She mumbled around the pipe, waving vaguely in Tia's direction with one hand. Elizabeth watched her even after Tia began to speak again, noting the way her hands shook as she lit the pipe from a book of matches.
"Barbossa shot you." Elizabeth said bluntly, wondering if the woman would even bother to answer the statement. She'd noticed over the last day or so that the woman was a very secretive and private person. Cerys didn't look up but Elizabeth saw the way she tensed. Then she nodded almost imperceptibly. Their conversation didn't get much further than that, so Elizabeth turned back to Tia and Will, suddenly noticing how silent they were. It seemed that Will had slowly progressed from sitting upright from being half-sprawled across the table. He was blissfully unconscious and snoring softly.
Tia put out a slim hand and stroked his hair fondly. Elizabeth's stomach twisted and she felt a sudden inexplicable urge to wrench out her sword and run her through then and there. Dark, knowing eyes turned to her and she blushed, absolutely sure that the mysterious woman could see every one of her bad thoughts.
"Now you know how he feels." Tia laughed, looking back down at Will and twisting one of his dark curls around her finger.
"What?" asked Elizabeth, shaking her head and wonder what in hell's name Tia was talking about.
"Never mind." Tia snapped and then sighed. "You want another rum?" Elizabeth acquiesced a little reluctantly, but felt secretly glad when Tia shoved the mug into her hand. They drifted off into a companionable, though slightly uncomfortable silence. Elizabeth briefly contemplated leaving but decided that she couldn't face the crew after her little fight with Cerys back on deck. Cerys was also completely unconscious, with her dark hair obscuring her eyes and her smoking pipe hanging out of the corner of her mouth.
"Tia?" she heard Will murmur, his voice husky with drowsiness. Elizabeth's heart gave an odd jumpy, achy feeling in her chest "Did I fall asleep?" Tia nodded, but she wasn't looking at him, she was watching Elizabeth who was watching Cerys. Will glanced at Cerys and frowned.
"What was that thing Cerys did, Tia?" Elizabeth heard Will ask. She felt as if an invisible person was pulling an invisible corset, tighter and tighter around her chest. Her throat felt constricted and she felt choked and breathless.
"She's a gypsy lass, yes." Tia began, settling back into her chair "A race doomed to wander the world forever, never taking a place for their home. In exchange for that misfortune the merciful gods granted the race strange powers. The Power to create illusions. She cannot physically change anything, nor multiply herself, she can simply mess with your mind until it seems to you that she's multiplied herself or changed something."
Elizabeth summoned every reserve of her courage and looked over at Will. She noted the he was watching the beautiful native woman tell her tale. He was entranced and the way he was leaning towards the other woman made Elizabeth's chest constrict even further.
"But there is always a weakness to any person or power." Tia Dalma continued, her dark eyes positively glowing with her story. "And hers do be iron. She cannot touch iron without pain and it stops the flow of her power." She reached across the table and picked up the wooden box beside Elizabeth's elbow. Inside was a collection of jewellery, gaudy, cheap jewellery. Nothing like the jewellery that Elizabeth wore… used to wear. Nevertheless she took the beaten iron bangle Tia offered as protection from the gypsy's illusions. Her hands shook as she slipped the dull-coloured cold metal over her too thin wrists. She tried not to notice how ridiculously intimate Tia and Will looked. Tia Dalma was slipping the iron band over his wrist and her fingers lingered over the brown skin of his hand. Elizabeth grabbed her tin mug and grasped it with shaky fingers; it and the rum inside seemed to anchor her to normality. That or the rum was gradually wearing away all her feeling. But the invisible corset had vanished. She cast her gaze around the cabin keen to look anywhere except the couple on the other side of the table. Her every breath was making sharp pains in her chest. Was this how Will felt when he saw me with Jack? She wondered, was this how James Norrington felt when I threw away his proposal in favour of Will? Was this what love was supposed to feel like? Eventually she realised that Cerys had woken and was watching her pain-stricken face carefully. Elizabeth raised her rum, swallowed the lot down and wishing that there was more to be had.
Gibbs clattered down the dark stairs loudly, breaking the taut silence in the cabin.
"Ship – ." He wheezed, breathless from the stairs. "Right on our tail."
Elizabeth inhaled rum in her haste to ask a million questions and Will stood, all sleepiness forgotten.
"Colours?" Tia inquired sharply, sweeping her skirts up and striding imperiously towards the slightly terrified man.
"Er…flying a British Flag, er, ma'am, miss, milady…er" Stuttered Gibbs, backing away from an irate Tia Dalma who was in full fight and not stopping for anyone. "Barbossa – er, Captain Barbossa," He corrected after Tia's eyebrow twitched slightly. "Had an idea, er, that it might be the East India Trading Company, erm, Miss..."
"Beckett?" breathed Cerys, from her dark corner of the cabin.
"You know Beckett?" asked Elizabeth, turning to Cerys, whose brown eyes were inscrutable as ever.
"We've met." Said Cerys shortly and strode after Tia, who was already at the top of the wooden stairs. Will followed her and Gibbs followed him, leaving Elizabeth behind, as usual. By the time she'd slowly made her way up to the deck, the other ship was close enough that you could make out little men scuttling around on deck in their smart little uniforms. The crew was crowded around Captain Barbossa, who was issuing order after order at the top of his voice. As the pirates ran below deck loading the cannons and preparing to fight, Elizabeth approached the Cerys. Cerys was leaning out so far over the rail she was almost vertical.
"It's huge." Elizabeth said with awe in her voice as they both gazed out at the giant ship. Row after row of cannons rolled out and the EITC men, in their smart blue uniforms, could be seen leering out from every gunport.
"Shit, Shit, Shit…" Cerys swore fiercely, she heaved herself back over the rail and marched over to Barbossa, her curls flying in the soft breeze.
"We can't fight that." She snapped at him. "This ship is made for running away, not facing off a huge ship like that." Barbossa didn't look at her, so she continued, waving her hands around in distress. "Have you seen the cannons on that thing! It'll pulverise us and then the men will board our ship in a swarm of death and slit our throats mercilessly!" She finished dramatically.
"It's too close … we have to fight. Or we'll be slaughtered anyway." Barbossa replied, his voice completely void of emotion. Cerys shook her head and Elizabeth's heart sank.
"Is that all?" she whispered to Cerys as the woman stalked away. "You're giving up?"
"What else do you want me to do?" Cerys hissed, clenching the rail with both hands.
"You're the only one that can convince him!" Elizabeth begged. "You know we can't win this, and I certainly haven't come this far to die."
"I just hope he knows what he's doing. Oh, god… OK" She sighed and half-ran back to the captain, who was looking rather short-tempered. Elizabeth trailed after her anxiously.
"We can outrun this thing! This ship is made for its fleetness in the water. I know running away doesn't appeal to you but it's got us out of trouble before." Cerys pleaded, her eyes bright with fear. "Think about it, it's Beckett on that ship, not an honourable Naval man. It's Beckett and I don't want to meet him again." She finished quietly.
Jack the monkey scuttled down Barbossa's arm, across Cerys' black and grey curls and down onto her shoulder. Barbossa glared at the monkey, but seemed convinced by this final mutiny.
"Get those men off the cannons. Hoist the mainsail and prepare to flee!" He bellowed, turning away from the two, but not before he plucked his monkey from her shoulder. Cerys didn't even notice because she was too busy grinning at Elizabeth with triumph.
"I told you that you could convince him!" Elizabeth grinned playfully and she was too happy to mind when Cerys stuck her tongue out and walked back towards where Tia was standing. After a moment Elizabeth followed, remembering something that she'd wanted to ask the strange old gypsy.
"Why are you so afraid of Beckett?" she inquired.
"Don't be so nosy, 'lisabth. Tia Dalma chided as Cerys turned away. Elizabeth refrained from sticking her tongue out and again got the feeling that Tia Dalma could see her thoughts when the woman flashed her a cheeky black smile. Eventually Cerys stuck out her hand. Elizabeth raised her eyebrows, wondering what that had to do with anything. Cerys sighed and pulled up her sleeve, revealing a pirate brand. The 'P' of the brand was blackened and surrounded by dark, scarred skin.
"I was jailed in the offices of the East India Trading Company, set to hang for piracy. When he branded me –." Cerys started reluctantly.
"Why?" Elizabeth interrupted, still staring, horrified at the inside of Cerys' wrist.
"Because he's a horrible, sadistic bastard!" Cerys snapped, and then taking a deep breath regained control and spoke. "…But while I was there in the cell it got infected. I was so feverish and ill that I couldn't recognise anyone and I couldn't differentiate the dreams and the reality. He refused to get a doctor, saying that I was going to die on the gallows anyway." She shivered slightly, her dark brown eyes haunted by memory. "Well, Jack and Hector eventually got themselves out and rescued me. A witch woman healed me and I was probably lucky not to lose my arm. Incidentally, I found out later that Jack took something from Beckett's personal possessions. A ruby of considerable value. So Beckett has hunted us ever since." With that she pulled her sleeve down and meandered off slowly.
"Oh." Elizabeth stared at Tia, wishing perhaps that she'd never asked the question.
"Shut yer mouth, unless you want to catch a fly.' Tia said, looking like she was trying to keep from laughing. Elizabeth's jaw shut with a click.
x
Time slipped through their fingers like running water and hours later when dark had claimed the sky and everyone had lost some of the tension, Will glanced back at the ship on the distant horizon…. And did a complete comical double take…
"He's catching up!" He yelled down from where he was precariously perched up in the rigging. He watched silently as the tension appeared in everyone below, the crew scuttled around, pulling at ropes and manning cannons. Gibbs stood at the barrels of weapons and handed everyone pistols and swords. Barbossa stiffened and squinted out at the dark horizon.
"Great plan." He said dryly to Cerys, who was hanging over the rail again and watching the full moon ripple across the dark water.
"It was a good plan, until now." Elizabeth retorted defensively, coming up behind him and holding a sword out to Cerys. She remembered a woman who'd once said that to her, on her first sea battle.
"Iron?" Cerys raised her eyebrows at the sword offered.
"I forgot." Said Elizabeth musingly. She fingered the iron band around her wrist self-consciously.
"Protection?" Cerys asked flatly. She sighed and stomped off, looking offended.
Barbossa sniggered quietly and Elizabeth glared witheringly at him.
"Good one – ." Barbossa started, but came to a sudden halt as the ship stopped suddenly. Elizabeth tripped over her own feet, collapsed into Barbossa's arms and landed on deck heavily. Shouts, curses and groans told them that everyone else had suffered the same fate. A series of thuds and a very explicit curse also told them that Cerys had fallen down the stairs.
"What the hell was that?" She snapped, emerging with her hand over her bloodied nose.
"We've run aground." Moaned Ragetti, with his working eye fixed on the ship approaching on the horizon.
"It must be a reef." Gibbs swore and peered over the rail. There was a nasty scratching noise as the sharp and hard surface scraped along the hull. Bubbles of air escaped from the ship and fizzed in the water. Gibbs' eyes widened in alarm and he pushed past Cerys and down the stairs. Faintly he heard Will gasp in horror behind him, but the black water bubbling up through the floor took most of his attention. He stood there and gaped while Cerys half-heartedly tried to bucket out some of the water. But it was a last cause. Abandoning the gypsy in her attempt to stop the water, he clambered back up the stairs. He'd just emerged, when a golden blur grabbed his arm, and wondered anxiously if it was the Kraken.
"We've run aground, Miss Swann." He answered and left her open mouthed in horror. She'd grown up on the sea and knew the dangers of being stuck. It was a sailor's worst nightmare, left to starve and die slowly. To get so desperate for water that you drink from the sea and the combination of seawater and strong Caribbean sun fries your brains like scrambled eggs. He shivered superstitiously and stepped up to the captain and his monkey.
"We're taking on water, Cap'n. If I were you I'd take my chances with Beckett, rather than this. Surely nothing could be worse that dying at sea."
"Mr Gibbs, I think you'll find that there are a lot of things worse that dying at sea and if we give ourselves over to Beckett I would guarantee that you'll find out a few"
Elizabeth clattered down the stairs into the dark and with a splash was suddenly knee deep in water. The fear she'd suppressed from a couple of hours ago rose up with a vengeance, swamping her heart and sending shivers down her spine. A chain of people bustled past her, carrying fresh water and provisions. It appeared that everyone was abandoning ship into the long boats. How could this have happened? A couple of hours ago they were cruising along fine! She was hustled haphazardly into the chain of people and was suddenly burdened with a barrel of rum. She staggered up the stairs and dropped the barrel so hard that it split, sending the spicy golden rum gushing across the deck.
Barbossa grabbed her arm and was about to berate her for the blatant waste of provisions when she beat him to it.
"How could this have happened?" She exploded, feeling tears come to her eyes and hating herself for it. "Don't you have maps to prevent this from happening." Barbossa opened his mouth to defend himself but stopped and seemed fixated on the horizon. "Wha – ." she started, turning around, what she saw stopped all her protests. They were dead in the water and Beckett was approaching fast, cannons loaded. That ugly black and white blotch of his ship on the horizon was much closer.
"I don't have time for this." Growled Barbossa and thrust her away from him and into the arms of the nearest person. "Take her away!"
Will was suddenly quite surprised to find he had an armful of sobbing Elizabeth Swann instead of the barrel he had been expecting. Completely at a loss as to what to do, he relinquished his hold on her, afraid she might offended or something. But then he found that she was clinging to him harder than he was actually attached to her.
X
"It's the Lady Dragonfly, milord." The young man bowed stiffly and marched back to his post. Lord Cutler Beckett straightened his waistcoat again and turned to his companion.
"Are you sure that it's the ship they've taken?" If he was anyone other than the man that unofficially ran the East India Trading Company, it might have been said that there was a trace of anxiousness in his voice. As it was, Cutler Beckett was never nervous.
Though his master had asked the question at least three times since the ship had been sighted, Mr Mercer showed the utmost respect and patience.
"Yes, milord. That is the ship that your eyes and ears report was stolen from a port near Tortuga by Elizabeth Swann, William Turner, Hector Barbossa and other nameless fugitives from justice." He ran his long fingers down the sharp blade of his dagger and was rewarded by a thin line of red. A very scary smile spread across his withered features.
Beckett grimaced at the lowborn behaviour and looked back at the horizon, allowing a little bit of hope to sneak over his features.
A few very long moment's later another young man approached nervously.
"We're within range, sir."
"Hold your fire." Beckett snarled, marching over to the edge of his ship to get a better look. "What's going on?"
"They appear to be having a spot of trouble, sir, perhaps they hit that reef."
"The reef that my informed and up-to-date maps guided us around?"
"Yes, that reef, sir."
Beckett laughed quietly, "Bring me closer, I think some negotiation is in order."