"I don't like this. I don't like this at all," Ragetti said to the horse, mimicking its heavy snorts. He glanced over his shoulder, the fact he had not docked in Port Royal since the siege for the last medallion.
"Quiet!" Gibbs scolded. "Now the way I sees it, playin' the part of proper servants means not speaking unless spoken to." He adjusted his brocaded coat and tri-corner hat that sent droplets of sweat down the sides of his head, coursing down behind his ears. "Hadn't worn a hat since me days workin' for ol' Norrington up there."
Gibbs, Pintel, and Ragetti gazed up from the pier to see Norrington, Barbossa, and Governor Swann watching them from the Black Pearl's railing.
"And workin' for him still," Gibbs muttered.
"At least we got the easy end of the deal." Pintel shrugged. "Drive 'em up in a genteel stolen carriage with stolen horses and wait outside for 'em."
"Ye ladies better not be playin' dress up in there for much longer!" Barbossa bellowed at Elizabeth and Mary from the other side of the cabin door. "Haven't got time to be wastin' now!"
"Hush up, ye old goat!" Mary yelled back. "Ye realize it's been a good seventeen years since I've had human hair? Don't even remember the last time I had the opportunity to have it all done up and pretty-like."
Elizabeth opened the door for her and the men blinked a few times, still adjusting to what the mortal Mary Read looked like—a petite, slight figure pale as a cloud all wrapped up in dark green silk. Dusting off her skirts, she looked around and then returned to brushing her gown to busy her gloved hands, concealing her pirate brand. Her dark hair was piled up on her head, leaving two long sausage locks curled down the back of her neck.
"Jack?" Elizabeth called at the start of the stairs below decks. "Jack? It's time."
"Tell Barbossa to go into the cabin."
"No!" She bit her lip, knowing she shouldn't be so tempted to laugh before even seeing him.
"Lizzie, do be reasonable. There is a reputation at stake."
"Just come on up and get it over with."
Jack emerged, still looking like himself, Elizabeth noted, breathing a sigh of relief. His hair was only an inch or two shorter and tied back around in a tail. He must not have been able to part with his beard, a bandage strategically positioned at his chin, but the heavy black coat concealed his arms well, and that was all that mattered. Still, no kohl, no rings, no…
"You kept your lace around your hand," she said.
"Yes, I did, and please try to constrain your laughter just a little harder," he snorted, cocking his head at Barbossa's laughter.
"Well, best be gettin' to the ball now, Cinderella. I don't know where the gents stole that carriage from, so it wouldn't come as a surprise at me if it turned back into a pumpkin at midnight. 'Tho you do have a fine escort on your arm, to be sure." He shot a wicked grin at Mary. Jack returned it with a sneer and held out his arm for Mary. He turned one more time and reminded Elizabeth to mind the ship and then descended down into the carriage.
"What name did ye choose for this ridiculous little soiree?" Jack asked Mary when the carriage pulled up to the house. Governor Swann apparently did have a few contacts left, informing them of the party at Admiral Downs' home. He chuckled at the memory of Elizabeth's clear disgust retelling all her interactions with the family, primarily Cornelia Downs, the daughter. Yes, he would certainly need to tweak this venture if he would ever feel like spreading the story of how he stalked Lord Cutler Beckett and subsequently assassinated him.
"Here now, you'll see," she said, allowing Gibbs to help her out of the carriage. Jack stepped out and took her arm again.
"We'll pull out of the livery stable in one hour," Gibbs said, repeating his instructions. Nodding at them one more time, he latched onto the back of the carriage and signaled for Pintel to drive off, Ragetti waving goodbye to them.
"They're just happy they don't have to dance," Jack said to himself, leading his "lady" up to the front door. How many years had it been since he had entered such a house…as a guest?
"Names?" the butler asked.
"Mr. and Mrs. John Turner," Mary said, grasping Jack's arm tighter.
"Oy, ye didn't even make me a captain?"
"Best be avoiding any connections to the sea right now, Jack."
"Oh, well, excuse me, Mrs. Turner."
"You are excused, Mr. Turner. What do we do now?"
"We mingle."
There were a few couples dancing to the waltz four musicians played off to the side, but most were still standing, long-stemmed goblets in some of their delicate hands, an orgy of ribbons and powder. Oh yes, Jack thought. He would most definitely be changing the details of this story. For one, there would be rum and not tea. Waving away the server, he squinted his eyes over the crowd to scan for Beckett, not even sure he would be here.
"I don't believe we've met," he heard. He spun around to come face to face with a red haired girl about eighteen or nineteen years old, her hands behind her back. "I'm Cornelia Downs, the Admiral's daughter. I'm delighted to make your acquaintance, Mister…"
"Turner," Jack coughed. The name tasted like uncooked meat. He took her hand and gave her the obligatory kiss-and-bow. "This is my, er, wife, Mrs. Turner."
"What brings you to Port Royal, Mr. Turner?" Cornelia asked, stepping towards him, ignoring the fact he came with a woman.
"Enterprise."
"Would you care to have a dance, Mr. Turner?" the girl asked, the lustful gleam in her eyes taking on a frightening level.
"My, my, little Cornelia Downs," Mary said in a practiced upper-class accent. "You probably don't even remember meeting me. You were only about that high." She gestured. "It does make one feel old, recalling you on your patio out there with all your sweet little dolls. It won't be long before one of the local boys will be courting you. Come, dear, shall we pay our respects to our host?"
Jack grinned at the girl's crushed face and could have sworn he saw her kick the tiles of the floor.
"I had no idea you were such a possessive wife," he whispered to Mary.
"That respectable lady has harlot written all over her face. She'd do better with Tortuga strumpets than this crowd."
"At least you've managed to sound like said respectable ladies to everyone else," he laughed. "You must tell me your secret."
"I've been saying to me-self, 'talk like Elizabeth.'"
Jack laughed and took her to walk the perimeter of the large room.
"Tempest coming," Barbossa said, the Pearl now anchored off near one of Port Royals' peninsulas, distanced enough from the other ships, her black sails blending seamlessly into the night.
Elizabeth paced the deck, her hands shoved into the pockets of her trousers. There were only a few times in her life when an hour felt like a lifetime, and none of them involved anything good. Flaking off a few raindrops, she disappeared into the cabin to listen to the pattering drops ping against the deck and the sails. Her eyes subconsciously drifted over to where the vial lay hidden and, God willing, not to be used. Her fist rested against her bottom lip and she gnawed a bit on her knuckle. Stopping in the middle of the cabin, she laughed at herself. Pacing. You came in here to stop pacing, you silly girl.
"Elizabeth?"
"James?" She threw open the door.
"It's almost hit the hour-mark."
"He's not here," Jack sighed, sitting at one of the tables for two, Mary across from him. "Gives new meaning to the phrase, 'dressed up with no place to go,' does it not?"
"Pirates!" someone from the other side of the room cried. Jack and Mary straightened their backs, both sizing up their surroundings. He would have to smash the window next to them and make a run for the peninsula, he thought, visualizing the two of them doing it. He held the lapel of his coat, his pistol inches away from his fingers.
"Ladies and gentlemen, please stay calm," Admiral Downs said, his hands out and over his head. "A strange ship has been sighted nearby, nothing to be alarmed about. We don't even know that they are pirates. Now, just to be on the safe side, I must insist everyone stay here so as not to go roaming the streets on their own."
Armed servants stood in front of the doors.
"A fine lot that is," Mary groaned. "I'm a might used to being locked out of these sort of places rather than locked in, how about you? I tell ye, Jack, fate's a nice twisting knife if we're the only two of our party what wear the brand and manage to be the only ones eligible to come to this shindig only to be caught and hanged."
"Best not be takin' your gloves off then," Jack said. "Oh, bugger."
"What is it now?"
"That little Downs chit is coming our way."
"They've been gone too long," Elizabeth said, coming down the steps. "I've waited long enough. I'm going to go get them."
"You'll be seen!" Governor Swann argued.
"That's exactly what needs to happen," she said. "At this rate, the only thing that can get them out of there would be a pirate crew." She opened the lid of a metal box near the railing and passed out pistols to everyone.
"So we're to just barge in and take two hostages?" James scoffed. "Brilliant. That can't possibly end badly for everyone involved."
"Elizabeth, I highly doubt that would be the smartest choice, whether Beckett is there or not," her father tried again to reason with her as he held the pistol she gave him. "We don't want anyone giving him our whereabouts."
"But we don't want half our motley crew captured, do we?" Barbossa edged to her and took the next pistol she extended. "Ye and the former Admiral can go retrieve them. I'll mind the ship."
"You'll mind the ship, or you'll commandeer the ship?" Elizabeth asked, rolling her eyes. "You're coming with me. James, you and Father can manage the ship?"
"Be careful." Her father kissed her.
"You too."
"If ye don't trust me, wasn't too smart of ye to bring me along, was it?" Barbossa muttered to himself.
"…what all is involved in enterprise, Mr. Turner?" Cornelia Downs asked Jack, leaning on their table with her elbows propped up on it, heaving her cleavage at him.
"I define enterprise as taking advantage of opportune moments and making a bit of profit out of them."
"That's so interesting," she sighed, her voice growing so breathy Jack thought it a wonder the girl hadn't swooned yet.
"Yes, it is," Mary said, setting her jaw. "I'm sure your other guests could use some comforting in these terrifying circumstances."
"You have such nice hands, Mr. Turner."
"Young miss, do ye really wish this married man to go and shoot himself at this very second?" He flashed a hardened glare at her. "Because there is no woman upon this earth whose company I would loathe more than a swift shot in the head…except you. Savvy?"
Instead of ire, her eyes glimmered with that enthralled look he knew only too well from robbing young women over the years. Their terror also harbored a dangerous fascination, tricking them into believing they would almost like to be…carried off by such a dangerous blackguard who had no qualms about having his way with anyone. Exhaling, Jack shifted his chair to stare out the window to avoid looking at her. Maybe that's why ye married Lizzie, he mused. At least she didn't melt when you slung that chain around her neck.
"Pirates!" someone shouted again.
"A dull party this is if we're resorting to that again," he muttered, still pondering how to escape.
"Masked pirates!" someone else shrieked.
Jack's head perked up to see two figures in hoods and domino masks waving pistols in the air.
"Look afraid," he whispered to Mary.
She peered around to see the other women quivering behind their husbands so she rose with more grace than Jack imagined she had and wedged herself between him and the window, squatting down and tapping her knees in impatience.
"We'll leave when we have what we came for," Elizabeth said, her voice muffled underneath her hood. Oh yes, changing the facts of this story was climbing its way to the top of his priorities. He didn't mind the idea of Lizzie coming to his rescue once in a while, but…bugger. She was coming right for him. Don't look like a proud husband. Don't look like a proud husband.
"Oh no, dreaded pirate! Take whatever valuables you wish, but do us no harm!" he screamed, knowing how fake it sounded. Still, those closest to him were cowering. Cowering at his Lizzie. He considered reenacting the moment with her later.
"We're taking hostages!" one of her accomplices said and Jack widened his eyes in recognizing it to be Barbossa's voice. "You two. Stand up."
"Better do as he says, Mrs. Turner. We don't want any trouble." Jack reached around and helped Mary to her feet and whispered to her again to look afraid. She clamped onto his back, shivering like a wounded animal. Glancing back at her, her face looked absolutely bored stiff. "Come on now, Mary. Say something."
"Please don't hurt me."
"Shut it!" Barbossa pulled her away from Jack and burrowed his pistol into her neck. "These two are comin' with us and if any of ye so much as get up from your seats, well, I think maybe you'll have to cover your ears."
The shocked murmurs of the guests sounded more and more terrifying the closer the band moved to the door.
"Ah, I see you fiends pulled our carriage right up front for us," Jack said. "What hospitality!"
"Pintel! Get us to the ship as fast as you can!" Elizabeth shouted out to him.
"Right!" He gave the horse a good whip and they took off into the deserted streets. A cramped carriage to say the least, he thought, jerking out of Barbossa's grip and undoing his tail. It would take forever to have his hair back to the way it was, he sighed.
"Don't suppose ye brought me bandana with ye, love."
"Sorry. I was in a little bit of a hurry after you didn't come back," she said with a bite.
"We had it taken care of, didn't we, Mary?"
"Before or after they weren't letting anybody leave?" she grunted.
"Right then," Pintel said, hopping off of the driver's seat and patting the horse's snout. "Was quite a ride, that. Wish I had a carrot or somethin' for ye."
"I got some hardtack in my pocket," Ragetti offered.
"Nah. He's a horse what deserve a juicy apple or a carrot or somethin' like that. All right, horsey. Off ye go." Pintel folded his arms and hugged himself watching the horse trot back into town, pulling an empty carriage. "Ye think maybe he knows how to find his way home?" He smiled after seeing Ragetti's nod. "What ye suppose we would have named him had we kept him?"
After much thought, Ragetti answered, "Gottfried Leibniz."
"Always knew ye scared me," Jack said, side-stepping his way between them. The Black Pearl gave out a long creak, her floorboards squeaking with delight knowing her captain was back on board her.
"Father? James?" Elizabeth opened the door to the main cabin and poked her head inside. "Father?"
Jack squeezed in past her, snatched his bandana off of the bed, and hid his forehead with it, tossing back his hair in preparation to fix it back to the way it was.
"Where are they?"
"I'd check the hull and make sure they're both sober," he said. Tying off the knot of his bandana and sliding it back around, he heard the cock of a pistol that wasn't his. Turning back around, he saw Barbossa standing at the threshold of the cabin, his pistol pointed straight at Elizabeth. By instinct, he reached for his own.
"Ye don't want to be doin' that, Jack."
Before he could respond, a shot from somewhere else on the ship rang out. All three turned towards the doorway to find James and Governor Swann running up onto the main deck, the latter's pistol fresh with smoke. They both skidded to a stop at the sight of Barbossa, armed and pointing his pistol at one of their own.
"Outside, the both of ye," he growled to Jack and Elizabeth.
Armed soldiers restrained Gibbs, Mary, Pintel, and Ragetti off to the side.
"If this is about taking the ship…" Jack tried.
"The ship? The ship's going to be mine anyway," Barbossa said. "But see, the price on your head was just too good to let pass by."
"Price?"
"Price, Jack." Beckett walked up the planks onto the deck, pausing to raise his eyebrows in amusement at the restrained crew. The buckles of his shoes reflected the moonlight above them, the rest of him just a shadow. "Captain Barbossa, you may throw your prisoners into the brig and do as you like with them. I'll be taking Miss Swann ashore."
It was all Governor Swann needed to push aside one of the guards and aim his pistol at Beckett. He opened fire, the shot grazing his arm. Letting out a cry, Jack moved to take Elizabeth and both of them jump overboard, but the butt of a rifle knocked him back.
Clenching his arm, Beckett whirled back around at Governor Swann and fired his pistol.
Elizabeth screamed, her hands flying to her mouth, her father falling back and hitting the deck with a nauseating thud. Her thighs and stomach cramped, trying to remember how to break into a run. The barrel of Barbossa's pistol poked her temple. Get up. Her father wasn't shaking his head from the impact or staggering to his feet or even gasping for air.
"Get up," she whispered.
"Shooting one of my men and then attempting to kill me," Beckett said, turning his attention towards her. "Now will you come quietly, Miss Swann, or do I have to shoot the whole crew?"
"Ye want to be pointin' that at me, mate, and not at her," Jack said, his eyes hard. No. No, it was too much. She would faint away if Jack implied taking a bullet one more time. If her legs weren't giving out spasms, she would feel herself to be petrified.
"No, Jack, for once it's not about you. You have your fate, at the hands of the man who already betrayed you once and left you to die. Cheerio."
Jack's eyes fluttered open. It wasn't a nightmare. Too real to be a nightmare. Mary hovered over him, a compress against the side of his head. Her wings were folded in and…wings? Had he dreamed there had been a brief period of time when he couldn't see right through her?
"They hit ye on the head pretty good," she said, her pearly face towards the floor. "Oh, I sort of rummaged around for that vial, ye see. Didn't think I could do anyone much good dead. Will's on his way."
"Will…dead…" His lips went dry. "Lizzie?"
"No, no, she's alive. Beckett took her off the ship. Took both him and Mercer to carry her off. Thought you'd be proud to hear that." She wrung her ghostly hands. "But there won't be any goin' after her until we take the ship back."
Jack sat up and held his head against his forearm, the compress sandwiched between them. He did a quick pan of his surroundings to find he was in his own brig. Gibbs, Pintel, and Ragetti sat, knees up, in the cell across from his.
"Norrington?"
"Up on deck, helping Barbossa man the ship. Jack, it ain't like that. If he refuses, Barbossa'll come down and shoot ye one at a time. James ain't a traitor anymore. Ye can count on that. Now, I've been used to handlin' the dead, so it didn't bother me much to throw Elizabeth's father off, God rest his soul. That's why Will is on his way, to pick him up, and then he'll help us, he will." She helped him stand. "Now that you're awake, we need a plan."
"Where's the key?"
"With our newly appointed captain," Mary said with tightened fists.
"How far out are we?"
"Not far, been only fifteen minutes or so since they had ye out cold."
It was enough information to formulate something, he thought, rubbing his shoulder as he took a few steps on his own. He closed his eyes, batted out the images that would torture him into a panic if he harped on them, and tried to concentrate on the moment. This moment, he thought to himself. Be in this moment right now.
A/N: "Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall" is from Measure for Measure.