Ninth Chapter – Broken Promises
Much love to williz, italicized picaroon (Nice penname, btw ;P), quilhan, Koneka Guardian, Lady Alfaelyn and Lexy for reviewing! Thanks to everyone for sticking around.
x
"No rum. No food. No water. No willing ladies of doubtful honour. No treasure. No ships. No pleasurable company. No Rum. No Rum. No RUM."
"Shut it, Jack, you're not making this any easier."
"Will you be my pleasurable company, Anamaria?"
"Jack!"
"Yes?"
"SHUT YER BLOODY MOUTH!"
"It was just a question, dear one."
"Dear one?"
"Sorry."
"You will be…"
"Ouch! Careful, you might damage my…goods."
"That was intended."
"Oh. How long have you been here, Ana?"
"Dunno."
"When do we get to leave this bloody place?"
"Dunno."
"Where did that annoying dog go?"
"I don't know!….Why?"
"I want to shoot something."
x
"You're pulling the wrong way!"
"I am not!" Elizabeth bristled, brushing hair off her sweaty forehead and glaring across at James."
"Elizabeth, we're going round in circles."
"Well maybe you're pulling the wrong way!"
"Fine." James gave up and sagged into the boat, dropping his oar and squinting up the sun.
"Is there any water left?"
He tossed a half-empty water skin at her. She drank thirstily, not spilling a single drop. Then she took the compass from his limp hand and flipped it open.
"How much longer until we get to Tortuga?"
"About another day, I think."
She snapped the compass shut, quelling the memories of Jack that the simple compass brought. Kicking out at James, she began to row again, fixing her gaze on the horizon and pulling back, again and again and again. Slowly but surely she could feel the energy draining out of her, it suddenly seemed pointless to keep rowing when there was nothing left to row to.
She dropped the oar again.
"Elizabeth!"
"Where am I going?"
"What?"
"I mean really, what's the point, Will's gone, Jack's gone – "
"What happened to Sparrow?"
Elizabeth put her shaking hands up to her face, as if trying to hold herself together.
"I killed him."
"Don't be dramatic, that was a serious question."
"I did."
James peered closer at her, reaching out a hand to take hers. She looked up at him, with what seemed like all the despair in the world contained in her sad brown eyes.
"You didn't!"
"I'm sorry." She put her hands to her pounding head and curled further into herself, drawing her knees up to her chest.
"And Turner…?"
She didn't speak, preferring only to look up at him again, her eyes dulled with unhappiness.
"I'm sorry." He cleared his throat and looked away for a moment, almost embarrassed at her distress. "Wait, what's that?" he'd caught sight of a smudge on the horizon. She took a deep breath and looked up.
"It's a ship." She said wonderingly, leaning over the side in her effort to catch a better view of the approaching vessel. "Quick!" She stood up, rocking the boat dangerously. "Help! Help us!"
"Shh, wait," James peered closer at the ragged sails and the barnacled hull. "That's no normal ship."
Davy Jones lowered the telescope.
"Bring them aboard." He said, without turning around to the crew. The two men in the long boat had stopped waving frantically, probably noticing that his was no normal ship. A very small smile crept over Davy Jones's face at the thought.
"It's the Flying Dutchman."
"What?" James looked back at Elizabeth. Her eyes were bright, but not with tears.
She was adding things up in her head. They took Will. She'd taken the Heart from Beckett. They had a large amount of fearsome men creatures armed with sharp objects. She had a long knife and a lot of anger. The odds were in her favour.
Without a second thought for her confused companion, Elizabeth took a deep breath and jumped.
x
Every breath hurt, every movement made him wonder if living was really worth the effort. Hands were shaking him; a voice calling him, probably unaware that the shaking was what was keeping him from being able to sit up. The relentless voice petered off into nothing, leaving a silence in which Will could hear his own laboured breathing. For some reason the silence scared him more than the voice had.
Footsteps clattered around above the brig and Bootstrap shut his eyes in frustration for a moment. The boy was still unconscious; unable to keep his eyes open for more than a second. His hands closed around the weight in his pocket. It would be cruel to give bad luck to the boy, his son… But surely it would be crueller not to. Voices advanced, shadows shifting outside the cell.
He didn't have enough time to hesitate…Wrenching the thing out of his pocket he gave up his burden to the one he wished most to save from it. Will barely stirred as Bootstrap shoved the ruby into his pocket. For a single moment, Bootstrap took what he knew could be one last look at his son's face. Will's eyes snapped open, revealing bright brown eyes that reminded Bootstrap intensely of Mary Jane.
Then he was swiftly out of Will's cell and back into his own, two cells that had been accidentally left unlocked in the chaos of the last night.
He watched the men drag his son away, digging his nails into his palms in an effort not to jump out and stop them. He could do nothing more now, the lives of everyone were in the hands of fate. Guilt welled up inside him at the thought that the bad luck he had given his son would only hinder him. If his son failed, it would be his fault.
Shutting his eyes he lay back onto the cell floor. The image that flashed across his eyes just before he succumbed to sleep was the bright brown eyes filled with trust and hope, looking up at him.
"But I need your help!" Jack sounded confused, as if he didn't understand why Bootstrap would even consider not going with him."Jack, I have a son and a wife. I can't just up and leave them for some foolhardy fancy of yours,"
"We're talking about Aztec Gold, Bill," Jack's voice softened to an eager whisper as he leaned over their half-consumed bottles of rum towards Bootstrap. "We'll be rich men."
Bootstrap could feel his resolve wearing thin. Why, Mary Jane had said just the other day that young William would need new shoes soon and he had been too ashamed to tell her that he hadn't the money. Maybe this wild plan of Jack's would be just the thing to help him set up his family financially.
Jack sensed Bootstrap weakening.
"Come on, mate, you've never let me down before…"
Bootstrap sighed.
"Where will we get a crew?"
"That's the spirit!" Jack leaned back in his chair, all smiles again. Bootstrap watched the shadows play across the man's enigmatic eyes and wondered what Jack was getting him into this time…
The Dreamscene changes…He could tell from the way her eyes and mouth tightened that she was trying very hard not to cry.
"But what about us?" She hissed angrily, keeping her voice down so as not to wake the boy sleeping in the next room.
"I don't know…" Bootstrap sighed and let his legs fold up into the chair by the fire.
"You promised, you promised…" She took a deep breath and shut her brown eyes tight, refusing to let a single tear escape.
"I know," Bootstrap stood and pulled her into his embrace. "and I'm sorry, but you know we need the money Jack's schemes always bring."
She snuggled closer to him, pressing her lips together so the sobs wouldn't escape. It took a moment before she trusted her voice enough to speak again.
"You promised me you wouldn't leave again…"
The hopelessness in that sad little voice almost broke Bootstrap's heart.
"I'll come back," He whispered back, "I promise."
Mary Jane very quietly gave into her tears.
x
They pulled her aboard, rough hands under her arms, tugging at her loose gold hair. Night was falling, spreading across the sky as the sun set. Elizabeth's hand slipped under her tunic, curling around the bag she'd stolen from Beckett's office reassuringly.
She vaguely heard James struggling against the men behind her, but most of her attention was focused on two figures standing not far away. Well, one standing, the other falling slowly but surely to his knees.
An almost painful rush of love and desire consumed her and for a moment all she could see was him. Her eyes took in the way his head was bowed and the way his hair fell across his face. He's alive…
"Davy Jones." It was hard to breathe, let alone speak through the growing lump in her throat, so the smooth voice that came out of her throat seemed detached from her body completely.
He barely acknowledged her. She pulled the bag out of her pocket and everyone on board the Dutchman suddenly went stock-still. In the silence that followed all eyes were on the bag as it slowly beat up and down.
You could almost hear the heart beat.
"Your terms?" Davy Jones asked after a moment. If he hadn't taken Will from her, not once but twice, she would have admired his composure. As it was, she hated his guts.
"He goes free…" her voice was almost a whisper, but in the quiet it sounded out as clear as day.
Davy Jones looked down at Will as if he'd almost forgotten that he was there.
"You're welcome to him."
"And…" Elizabeth attempted to make her brain move on from the one wish that she had. A wish that her and Will coulde be safely together forever. As she hesitated, James moved behind her and no one hindered him. He gently took the heart and knife from her hands. She hardly noticed.
The distance between him and Elizabeth wasn't all that far, but to Will it felt like miles. The thought crossed his mind that he might be dreaming, but was dismissed quickly. The pain in his back was far too real. It took all the strength he had to lift his head, but to see her it was worth it.
She was like the sun, he decided. Bold, bright, beautiful, essential, he couldn't live life properly without her. But it sometimes felt like if he looked at her too hard or too long he would burn. She looked like that now, fiercely courageous, rescuing him instead of it being the other way around. As it should have been.
Just as his knees gave out, she was there, both arms flung around him to keep him from hitting the deck. The pressure of her hands on his back would have been too much to bear had been anyone else but for her.
Elizabeth's breath was coming in quick gasps. His back was wet under her frantic hands and even as she held him, he was slipping away, brown eyes unfocused. In her panic she couldn't quell the incoherent words spilling out of her mouth.
"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry, Oh God… I never meant this to happen…"
Her knees hit the deck and he slipped out of her arms, falling onto his back on the deck. He could barely feel the pain anymore. Smiling up at her, he lifted one of his hands to touch her face, just in case she wasn't really there. She grabbed his hand and pressed it to her mouth, ignoring the tears falling down her cheeks. He moved his hand to trace her new scar, the one that wasn't there when they'd last been together. With an unfamiliar cold feeling creeping up his spine he realised she'd changed a lot in the few days they'd been apart. There was something new in her eyes, something scary.
"I'm going to be fine," he said, screwing up his face in the attempt to sit up. A hysterical giggle escaped Elizabeth. She thought it rather funny that he was lying on the deck of the Flying Dutchman, basically dying and he wasted his breath reassuring her that everything was going to be fine. A tear dripped off the end of her nose and she gripped his hand as if that grip was all that was keeping him alive.
"You drive a hard bargain, Commodore Norrington." Davy Jones suddenly smiled, "But I accept your terms."
James had the feeling that he was being cheated, but considering the Dutchman's men surrounded him he decided not to press it.
"I will raise the Lady Dragonfly from the depths for you and ensure that no ship will trouble your passage to World's End, in return for the object which you stole." He stepped closer. "We will take you to Tortuga and the day after you get there the Lady Dragonfly will be in the harbour."
"Agreed." James clenched his jaw and turned away. The horizon was clear, sparkling with stars, but still a hint of unease troubled his mind.
x
Tortuga… James had wished never to come back to the damned place, but it at the moment it seemed that fate had a grudge against him. He sighed and looked down off the ship at the docks, where the night-time crowds crowded. He was upon the Lady Dragonfly. Davy Jones had grudgingly stayed true to his word and the Lady Dragonfly was once again happily afloat. And she was looking none the worse for her venture below the waterline, James observed, attempting to keep his mind from the things that were truly worrying him.
Elizabeth hadn't spoken a single word to him since they had been out at sea on the long boat. He'd been worrying what he'd done wrong when he remembered that she probably had her hands full worrying about her boy.
Turner had grown, James could tell by the deep shadows present behind the otherwise clear brown eyes. But he would never be able to see Turner as anything other that the rash blacksmith boy that he remembered from way back when things had been simple.
"Things are never simple, Commodore,"
James shuddered and turned around to see a truly frightening black smile. The woman, whoever she was, seemed to know Elizabeth and had turned up with a bunch of people James had thought he never see again. Particularly the captain, a man with an impressive hat and dead looking blue grey eyes. Captain Barbossa definitely had been dead last time James had checked.
"Death is not always an end," Tia Dalma drew closer, leaning precariously over the side of the ship to gaze down at the unending depths of the dark water. James really wished she wouldn't speak to him; sometimes he was afraid she saw too much. And there were things, thoughts, half-formed dreams in James's head that he hadn't even admitted to himself.
"We'll cast off tomorrow," The woman said, tugging on his sleeve to turn him to face her. "Will you come with us?"
James felt a lump grow in his throat. He didn't want to travel to an imaginary place with a dead Captain and a mad crew, but then where else had he to go? A sudden image flashed across his mind. He remembered Elizabeth's eyes when he rescued her and the smile she'd flashed across at him when he'd opened her cell. It was times like that when he wondered what might have been if she hadn't noticed William Turner unconscious in the water all those years ago. If Turner had never come to Port Royal… What might have been…?
James shook his head abruptly and focused on the woman standing before him. She had her head cocked to one side and was watching his eyes with a knowing, slightly sad smile on her dark face.
"Where else have I to go?" he asked wryly.
She nodded and turned away, whispering to herself. But before she moved away, James caught her some of her words.
"Sometimes I think it isn't that there isn't enough love in this world, it is that there is too much…"
x
PS: Just before you go (and leave me a review of course) I'd like to say sorry to quilhan for not writing a proper WE makeup scene this chapter. I'll really do it next chapter, I promise… I just didn't think the kiss would fit in that bit cause he was kinda injured and all. And I'm also sorry to everyone for my bad characterisation of James Norrington, 'cause I think he's much cooler than I make him out to be here.
Toodles,
Jay!