Here we have another chapter and I apologise for the delay, been kind of
busy lately.
As ever, infinite thanks to all you lovely people who took the time to review and an even greater, and therefore mathematically impossible number of thanks to Julie for reviewing.
Blood Rising
Chapter Three
The candlestick dropped from her suddenly nerveless fingers. More than anything she wanted to run, to go somewhere where she wouldn't have to see the look in Will's eyes, that look of shock and helplessness. She wanted to say something, to apologise although whether to Will or Estrella she wasn't certain. But the words wouldn't come and she just stood there and watched him watching her.
After a while - a moment, a year - he walked over and took her by the arm. In what she assumed was an attempt to calm her, he spoke reassuring words murmured close to her ear. The words were nearly unintelligible and she doubted that even he knew what he was saying. It didn't matter as she walked stiffly by his side, seemingly incapable of listening.
Arm in arm, but perhaps further apart than they had ever been, they stumbled up the stairs and into her room. As he led her to the bed, she glanced at his face, desperate for some hint of understanding, some sincere promise that everything really would be all right. Instead, his eyes were downcast, unable or unwilling to meet her gaze. Tenderly he drew back the coversand she curled up on the bed and shut her eyes tightly. Gentle hands coved her with a blanket and the soft lips that kissed her on the forehead, but she ignored them.
Estrella was dead. Nothing could change that, but she still needed someone to pay. There was a yawning, bitter emptiness inside her, and something else. The grief she knew should be there was absent. No more tears remained. Instead, there was only the anger and hatred that screamed out against the one who had stolen her childhood friend.
The young maid hadbecome a fast friend over the years. The advent of her servitude to the Swann family had begun when Elizabeth's mother had died.. Estrella, six years her senior, had always been there with a soft word and a comforting hug. Especially when she'd been woken by all-too-frequent nightmares.
Then the crossing from England with her father. Estrella had soothed her when she'd been plagued by seasickness in the first week. Closer than a sister, she had looked after her and now, because of their friendship, she was dead. Or, more truly, she was dead because Elizabeth and Will were friends with a pirate who didn't trust them enough to tell them what was going on.
It was Jack's fault. Somewhere in his murky past he had done something terrible enough that someone was prepared to kill over it. He had stood there and taken responsibility and then he had swaggered out like it didn't matter. What was one more death to a pirate after all? Deep down, she knew what she felt was unreasonable and unfair. In her heart, she knew that when she wasn't so angry she would insist that Jack was a good man and defend him against anyone. But right now, she hated him and everything he stood for. It was Jack's fault. It had to be, or there would be no one for her to focus her hatred on.
There had to be something she could do. Staying at home and waiting for others to act had never been her style. Breathing deeply, she tried to think of how she could find Estrella's murderer when she had no clue as to who it was. She had no clue. Perhaps someone else might, in particular perhaps Jack knew something.
Lifting her head, she turned slightly. As she had more than half expected, Will was sitting on the chair opposite her bed, staring into space. Wearily, he rubbed at his eyes and she realized for the first time how exhausted he looked. A momentary wave of sympathy came over her but she quickly repressed it. There was no time; she needed to get things done.
"Will," she said softly. He looked up sharply.
"Elizabeth?" There was a peculiar hesitation in his voice.
"Who killed her?"
"Shush, it's not the time to be thinking of that...."
"I need to. I need to know." Almost, she despised the sharp tone of her voice and the way it made him flinch. Almost.
"Why?"
"So I can kill them." The answer surprised her as much as it did him. It made sense though. The murderer deserved to die, and she needed revenge. Why should she be denied it because she was a woman?
"Elizabeth...."
"Who was it, Will?" she cut him off.
"I don't know." She knew he was telling the truth. She could always tell when he was lying.
"Does he know?" There was no need to specify who he was; she was unable to disguise the disgust in her voice.
"No." He answered a little too quickly for her liking. She stared at him for a long moment and he shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. "Jack doesn't know who murdered Estrella." he insisted.
"He knows where to find them though, doesn't he?" she pressed.
He sighed, and with obvious reluctance admitted, "Yes, he does."
She sat up then and began to pull on a pair of shoes, a feeling of determination almost overwhelming her.
"What are you doing?" Will asked, a note of alarm dominating his voice.
"We need to get Jack out of prison so he can lead us to Estrella's murderer." She said, astonished that her plan wasn't obvious to him.
"Love, I hate to say it but maybe Norrington's right. Maybe prison is the best place for Jack at the moment. The island in the note...it's almost certainly a trap and he – we- would be walking right into it."
She bit back the answer that came immediately to her lips; that she didn't care; and instead looked at him sincerely. "I need to do this Will. Are you going to help me?"
There was a look of miserable resignation on his face as he replied. "Yes, of course I will, Elizabeth." She had, after all given him no choice.
***
There were nicer ways to wake up, he thought as he cautiously opened one eye and discovered that a group of men with hammers had taken up residence in his skull. Opening the eye didn't seem to actually make the pain worse, so in the spirit of enquiry he opened the other one and looked round. This room was terribly familiar and equally terribly unwelcome. The jail cell at Port Royal. Bloody hell.
One ringed hand brushed up to the side of his head and the source of the pain. Feeling dampness, he almost panicked before he realised it wasn't blood but water. Now, how had he gotten wet? Turning his head, he saw a damp cloth that had obviously been lying on top of his injury. That was certainly thoughtful of someone. Claiming the wet, folded material, he pressed it back against his aching skull and closed his eyes.
Unbidden, the memory of the Elizabeth's face and that expression just before she swung the candlestick, flashed before his mind's eye. That look, more than any physical pain, would stay with him the rest of his days. Groaning he pushed the thoughts aside. Time to focus.
How was he going to get out of here? No-one knew where he was, well except the rotten, treacherous Commodore that had locked him up after promising not to. And Will and Elizabeth of course, but he doubted that he could rely on their help this time. Well, the lad might be willing but he surely wouldn't leave her alone. No, he was on his own. Nothing to save him but his legendary wits and cunning.
He was in trouble.
No point in dwelling on it though. He got to his feet and was pleasantly surprised to notice that the headache seemed to have diminished a little, and the world only span very slightly. That bloody dog was watching him, keys hanging out of its mouth as ever. There was something disturbing in its calm contemplation. Perhaps it knew something he didn't. Right now that didn't seem unlikely.
"Here doggy," he muttered optimistically. It ignored him. He felt ridiculous.
Time for another plan then. The only problem was, he couldn't think of anything. He hadn't been able to break out of this cell on his own the last three times he'd been here; it seemed unlikely he was going to do it now. On the other hand, he was still alive and as close to uninjured as made no odds – he would get out of here somehow.
The door creaked open and he immediately lay down. Perhaps the old pretending-to-be-dying ploy worked if they knew you had a head injury? If he just lay and feigned unconsciousness Norrington at least would be concerned and might risk coming into the cell. Then – he could improvise. Suddenly and violently if necessary.
The footsteps came down the stairs. More than one person by the sounds of it. He hoped that he was lying in the same position as when they'd put him here; if he was seen to have moved too much it would be obvious he wasn't that near death.
"Jack?" Now that was a voice he hadn't been expecting to hear.
"'Ello whelp. Fancy meetin' you here." He kept his voice as light and flippant as possible. Sitting up he saw both Will and Elizabeth regarding him. The lad looked terrible; concern and misery were written all over his face. It was the look in her eyes that really worried him though. He recognised the light of obsession, had seen it in his own reflection frequently enough in the long years he'd been without his Pearl.
"We've come to get you out of here." Will began.
"No." Elizabeth spoke sharply. From the look on his face, the interruption had surprised Will at least as much as it had Jack.
"Elizabeth..." he protested, but she carried on speaking, not listening to him.
"Fair is fair, Captain Sparrow. If we get you out of here I expect you to swear to help me get revenge against whoever murdered Estrella."
So that was it. He looked at her for a long moment, wishing that Will would speak up, would say something to her, but the younger man was staring at his boots as though they were the most amazing thing in the world. This probably wasn't the time to be telling her of the misery that revenge could bring; he very much doubted that she would listen. Better to go along with her and wait for his moment.
"You can 'ave my help for the askin', Elizabeth. There was no need t' ransom me freedom for it." he told her quietly.
For a moment she looked almost ashamed, then the same look of determination came back. "But you promise?" she said, half asking, half stating.
He thrust a hand through the bars. Uncertainly she took it. "We 'ave an accord, lass."
Will had already taken the keys from the dog and now unlocked the cell door. He flashed Jack a look that fell somewhere between gratitude and remonstrance. Evidently he wasn't too sure of what was going on or what he should be doing about it. Familiar feeling to him, no doubt.
"We'll need to move quickly." Elizabeth stated. "That guard will be waking up soon."
"You hit a soldier?" Somehow that seemed the most unlikely fact of all to Jack. He didn't argue anymore though, simply followed them out of the fort. Then it was his turn to lead them out of the town and along the coastline to where the Pearl lay hidden. It was, perhaps an hour-long walk normally, but it was still a while before dawn and scrambling along in the darkness took more time than he liked.
The sky was just beginning to lighten as they came to the Black Pearl. As soon as his feet touched the deck he gave the order to cast off; he had no desire to linger in Port Royal any longer. The crew seemed startled, but ran to obey his shouted orders with a speed that almost alarmed him.
When the ship got underway Gibbs and Ana came running up to him.
"Jack! We heard you'd been caught." Ana exclaimed.
"I was, now I'm not." he answered, trusting that that would be clear enough. A thought struck him. "'Ow did you hear that I'd been caught?"
Gibbs and Ana looked at each other in a way that made his heart sink.
"We surprised a group of soldiers, sneakin' around the coast." Gibbs supplied. "Left most of 'em tied up on the beach, but their leader said 'e 'ad word o' you so we took him on board."
"It was that Commodore." Ana added. "He's still below now."
Now there was a change in fortunes that would take a bit of coming to terms with. Two hours ago he'd been Norrington's prisoner; now Norrington was his, and all at a time when they'd both seemed to be coming to some unstated agreement.
Standing at the helm, he thought this over. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry, but then he'd never been the sort to do either. Instead he smirked slightly "Funny ol' world, innit?"
The looks of incomprehension and disgust that came his way made him wince inwardly. His grin widened.
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Feedback is welcomed. What, do you want to see me grovel?
As ever, infinite thanks to all you lovely people who took the time to review and an even greater, and therefore mathematically impossible number of thanks to Julie for reviewing.
Blood Rising
Chapter Three
The candlestick dropped from her suddenly nerveless fingers. More than anything she wanted to run, to go somewhere where she wouldn't have to see the look in Will's eyes, that look of shock and helplessness. She wanted to say something, to apologise although whether to Will or Estrella she wasn't certain. But the words wouldn't come and she just stood there and watched him watching her.
After a while - a moment, a year - he walked over and took her by the arm. In what she assumed was an attempt to calm her, he spoke reassuring words murmured close to her ear. The words were nearly unintelligible and she doubted that even he knew what he was saying. It didn't matter as she walked stiffly by his side, seemingly incapable of listening.
Arm in arm, but perhaps further apart than they had ever been, they stumbled up the stairs and into her room. As he led her to the bed, she glanced at his face, desperate for some hint of understanding, some sincere promise that everything really would be all right. Instead, his eyes were downcast, unable or unwilling to meet her gaze. Tenderly he drew back the coversand she curled up on the bed and shut her eyes tightly. Gentle hands coved her with a blanket and the soft lips that kissed her on the forehead, but she ignored them.
Estrella was dead. Nothing could change that, but she still needed someone to pay. There was a yawning, bitter emptiness inside her, and something else. The grief she knew should be there was absent. No more tears remained. Instead, there was only the anger and hatred that screamed out against the one who had stolen her childhood friend.
The young maid hadbecome a fast friend over the years. The advent of her servitude to the Swann family had begun when Elizabeth's mother had died.. Estrella, six years her senior, had always been there with a soft word and a comforting hug. Especially when she'd been woken by all-too-frequent nightmares.
Then the crossing from England with her father. Estrella had soothed her when she'd been plagued by seasickness in the first week. Closer than a sister, she had looked after her and now, because of their friendship, she was dead. Or, more truly, she was dead because Elizabeth and Will were friends with a pirate who didn't trust them enough to tell them what was going on.
It was Jack's fault. Somewhere in his murky past he had done something terrible enough that someone was prepared to kill over it. He had stood there and taken responsibility and then he had swaggered out like it didn't matter. What was one more death to a pirate after all? Deep down, she knew what she felt was unreasonable and unfair. In her heart, she knew that when she wasn't so angry she would insist that Jack was a good man and defend him against anyone. But right now, she hated him and everything he stood for. It was Jack's fault. It had to be, or there would be no one for her to focus her hatred on.
There had to be something she could do. Staying at home and waiting for others to act had never been her style. Breathing deeply, she tried to think of how she could find Estrella's murderer when she had no clue as to who it was. She had no clue. Perhaps someone else might, in particular perhaps Jack knew something.
Lifting her head, she turned slightly. As she had more than half expected, Will was sitting on the chair opposite her bed, staring into space. Wearily, he rubbed at his eyes and she realized for the first time how exhausted he looked. A momentary wave of sympathy came over her but she quickly repressed it. There was no time; she needed to get things done.
"Will," she said softly. He looked up sharply.
"Elizabeth?" There was a peculiar hesitation in his voice.
"Who killed her?"
"Shush, it's not the time to be thinking of that...."
"I need to. I need to know." Almost, she despised the sharp tone of her voice and the way it made him flinch. Almost.
"Why?"
"So I can kill them." The answer surprised her as much as it did him. It made sense though. The murderer deserved to die, and she needed revenge. Why should she be denied it because she was a woman?
"Elizabeth...."
"Who was it, Will?" she cut him off.
"I don't know." She knew he was telling the truth. She could always tell when he was lying.
"Does he know?" There was no need to specify who he was; she was unable to disguise the disgust in her voice.
"No." He answered a little too quickly for her liking. She stared at him for a long moment and he shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. "Jack doesn't know who murdered Estrella." he insisted.
"He knows where to find them though, doesn't he?" she pressed.
He sighed, and with obvious reluctance admitted, "Yes, he does."
She sat up then and began to pull on a pair of shoes, a feeling of determination almost overwhelming her.
"What are you doing?" Will asked, a note of alarm dominating his voice.
"We need to get Jack out of prison so he can lead us to Estrella's murderer." She said, astonished that her plan wasn't obvious to him.
"Love, I hate to say it but maybe Norrington's right. Maybe prison is the best place for Jack at the moment. The island in the note...it's almost certainly a trap and he – we- would be walking right into it."
She bit back the answer that came immediately to her lips; that she didn't care; and instead looked at him sincerely. "I need to do this Will. Are you going to help me?"
There was a look of miserable resignation on his face as he replied. "Yes, of course I will, Elizabeth." She had, after all given him no choice.
***
There were nicer ways to wake up, he thought as he cautiously opened one eye and discovered that a group of men with hammers had taken up residence in his skull. Opening the eye didn't seem to actually make the pain worse, so in the spirit of enquiry he opened the other one and looked round. This room was terribly familiar and equally terribly unwelcome. The jail cell at Port Royal. Bloody hell.
One ringed hand brushed up to the side of his head and the source of the pain. Feeling dampness, he almost panicked before he realised it wasn't blood but water. Now, how had he gotten wet? Turning his head, he saw a damp cloth that had obviously been lying on top of his injury. That was certainly thoughtful of someone. Claiming the wet, folded material, he pressed it back against his aching skull and closed his eyes.
Unbidden, the memory of the Elizabeth's face and that expression just before she swung the candlestick, flashed before his mind's eye. That look, more than any physical pain, would stay with him the rest of his days. Groaning he pushed the thoughts aside. Time to focus.
How was he going to get out of here? No-one knew where he was, well except the rotten, treacherous Commodore that had locked him up after promising not to. And Will and Elizabeth of course, but he doubted that he could rely on their help this time. Well, the lad might be willing but he surely wouldn't leave her alone. No, he was on his own. Nothing to save him but his legendary wits and cunning.
He was in trouble.
No point in dwelling on it though. He got to his feet and was pleasantly surprised to notice that the headache seemed to have diminished a little, and the world only span very slightly. That bloody dog was watching him, keys hanging out of its mouth as ever. There was something disturbing in its calm contemplation. Perhaps it knew something he didn't. Right now that didn't seem unlikely.
"Here doggy," he muttered optimistically. It ignored him. He felt ridiculous.
Time for another plan then. The only problem was, he couldn't think of anything. He hadn't been able to break out of this cell on his own the last three times he'd been here; it seemed unlikely he was going to do it now. On the other hand, he was still alive and as close to uninjured as made no odds – he would get out of here somehow.
The door creaked open and he immediately lay down. Perhaps the old pretending-to-be-dying ploy worked if they knew you had a head injury? If he just lay and feigned unconsciousness Norrington at least would be concerned and might risk coming into the cell. Then – he could improvise. Suddenly and violently if necessary.
The footsteps came down the stairs. More than one person by the sounds of it. He hoped that he was lying in the same position as when they'd put him here; if he was seen to have moved too much it would be obvious he wasn't that near death.
"Jack?" Now that was a voice he hadn't been expecting to hear.
"'Ello whelp. Fancy meetin' you here." He kept his voice as light and flippant as possible. Sitting up he saw both Will and Elizabeth regarding him. The lad looked terrible; concern and misery were written all over his face. It was the look in her eyes that really worried him though. He recognised the light of obsession, had seen it in his own reflection frequently enough in the long years he'd been without his Pearl.
"We've come to get you out of here." Will began.
"No." Elizabeth spoke sharply. From the look on his face, the interruption had surprised Will at least as much as it had Jack.
"Elizabeth..." he protested, but she carried on speaking, not listening to him.
"Fair is fair, Captain Sparrow. If we get you out of here I expect you to swear to help me get revenge against whoever murdered Estrella."
So that was it. He looked at her for a long moment, wishing that Will would speak up, would say something to her, but the younger man was staring at his boots as though they were the most amazing thing in the world. This probably wasn't the time to be telling her of the misery that revenge could bring; he very much doubted that she would listen. Better to go along with her and wait for his moment.
"You can 'ave my help for the askin', Elizabeth. There was no need t' ransom me freedom for it." he told her quietly.
For a moment she looked almost ashamed, then the same look of determination came back. "But you promise?" she said, half asking, half stating.
He thrust a hand through the bars. Uncertainly she took it. "We 'ave an accord, lass."
Will had already taken the keys from the dog and now unlocked the cell door. He flashed Jack a look that fell somewhere between gratitude and remonstrance. Evidently he wasn't too sure of what was going on or what he should be doing about it. Familiar feeling to him, no doubt.
"We'll need to move quickly." Elizabeth stated. "That guard will be waking up soon."
"You hit a soldier?" Somehow that seemed the most unlikely fact of all to Jack. He didn't argue anymore though, simply followed them out of the fort. Then it was his turn to lead them out of the town and along the coastline to where the Pearl lay hidden. It was, perhaps an hour-long walk normally, but it was still a while before dawn and scrambling along in the darkness took more time than he liked.
The sky was just beginning to lighten as they came to the Black Pearl. As soon as his feet touched the deck he gave the order to cast off; he had no desire to linger in Port Royal any longer. The crew seemed startled, but ran to obey his shouted orders with a speed that almost alarmed him.
When the ship got underway Gibbs and Ana came running up to him.
"Jack! We heard you'd been caught." Ana exclaimed.
"I was, now I'm not." he answered, trusting that that would be clear enough. A thought struck him. "'Ow did you hear that I'd been caught?"
Gibbs and Ana looked at each other in a way that made his heart sink.
"We surprised a group of soldiers, sneakin' around the coast." Gibbs supplied. "Left most of 'em tied up on the beach, but their leader said 'e 'ad word o' you so we took him on board."
"It was that Commodore." Ana added. "He's still below now."
Now there was a change in fortunes that would take a bit of coming to terms with. Two hours ago he'd been Norrington's prisoner; now Norrington was his, and all at a time when they'd both seemed to be coming to some unstated agreement.
Standing at the helm, he thought this over. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry, but then he'd never been the sort to do either. Instead he smirked slightly "Funny ol' world, innit?"
The looks of incomprehension and disgust that came his way made him wince inwardly. His grin widened.
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Feedback is welcomed. What, do you want to see me grovel?