Sorry about the slow update. I thought it would be a quick one, turns out my life sucks. The next update may take a long time. This one's a long one. Enjoy :D Oh, and once again people are adding as faves ect and aren't leaving feed back. I would really like some feedback and constructive criticism is welcome.
Chapter 5: Nightmare Turns Reality
Characters: Lord Beckett, Elizabeth Swann, Mercer and some mentions of a few others, oh and randoms (I love that word - Randoms)
Rating: NC-17?
Warnings: Sex , a little bit of blood and mild course language.
Chapter Summary: Mainly focusing on Elizabeth. (I swear next chapter WILL have more Beckett :S)
Notes: My main computer chucked a huge spaz and might I add a very angry toned "AGAIN!" So, with that obvious disappointment, I haven't been as eager to post or something 0_o I've only just recovered from a lousy cold and some of my family issues. The only thing left to complain about is that my dear mother threw my book out – it had my story plan in it! I have another copy of the plan (somewhere) but it's not as good as the one she threw out so I'm going to have to take some fish oil or something to make me remember what the heck was in that plan! Or I could just lock this in the closet for a few months till I figure out what to do with this :S
I got myself a wonderful plot bunny sometime ago for a Beckett/OC fic - I still have this plan! Bahah, Windows Media Player 11 and my massive collection of Evanescence songs gave me an idea, they just did and I have no idea how my mind came to the conclusions that it did - I'm just weird like that :D Maybe while I start this new one off I'll figure out what to do with this one. Bah, I read somewhere that that can sometimes help.
Nightmare Turns Reality
Elizabeth jolted awake from a nightmare, which had been one of the many she'd had last night. As she sat up and gazed around the room, she immediately realised that it was the morning of her second wedding.
She'd tossed and turned a great deal last night, and as a consequence, she looked terrible. Her hair was muddled from moving about and looked like something a bird would live in without hesitation.
She'd not only cried herself to sleep but she'd also cried throughout it. She had the visible signs that showed she'd been crying: her eyes were red and the trails of the salty tears she'd shed still marked her face - some still looked fresh.
Elizabeth got up from her bed and gave a long lived stare into the mirror of her vanity. It was terrifying to see herself in such a condition, but her appearance alone couldn't unveil all the tortures of last night - beneath the surface were thing's much more terrorizing.
It wasn't just the nightmares that tortured her, her reality was just as horrendous. The thought of her with Becket at the altar and in the bedroom made her skin crawl with that disgusted feeling that she'd only recently become accustomed to because of the recent events and thoughts with Lord Beckett. The true disgusted feeling usually came when her stomach twisted and moved inside her at the thought of Beckett touching her. When he'd really touched her it was much worse.
She'd also become familiarized with another strange feeling, something just as awful. That desire for more, the want for wet collections of emoticon to build and grow, it was uncomfortably unpleasant – and yet also the opposite. In fact, the contradiction of emotions was exactly what made it unpleasant. She didn't want it to be pleasant because every time Beckett made her feel good she felt like she was betraying Will.
She sat impatiently waiting for and dreading her day to flood in through the door. She didn't expect to see her fiancé; Beckett said that he'd like the wedding as traditional as possible, meaning he couldn't see her before the wedding. Instead she expected Mercer to come through the door with her clothes and Beckett's commands. There wasn't anything remotely like a wedding dress in the small wardrobe; she'd seen that yesterday when she'd rummaged through it to find the cream dress she'd worn to dinner. And if no dress was brought to her she'd just have to make do with what she could find.
She hated playing the waiting game - it made her anxious. She watched the clock. She'd seen this as a countdown to her wedding, her loss of freedom - it was making the waiting game a lot less enjoyable. The minutes eventually turned into to four hours. A few minutes past one o'clock.
She decided it was probably best that she at least ran a brush through her hair. As she sat at her vanity, she slowly stroked the brush through her hair, this way she could use up more time and not sit there thinking thoughts that only made her situation worse.
Maybe Beckett had intended her to be like this; caged up so she could think about things, the things that she wished she hadn't done but had enjoyed at the time – the majority of them anyway.
When she was done brushing she gave a long sigh. She was back to sitting there reflecting on last night.
There were so many things that she wanted to know. She knew for sure that she would be forced to have sex with him, but she wanted to know things about Beckett and his sexual demands and behaviour. Of the numerous things, the first was whether Lord Beckett would be gentle with her or would he simply discard her wants and please his own and only his own. She knew it would hurt, her maids had told her that before her last wedding, but she wanted to know how much it would hurt. She also wanted to know what having sex was like. Lastly she wondered whether there could be a side of Beckett where he could be gentle and loving.
All she could do was hope. Maybe she could escape when they got back to Port Royal, she would've lost her virginity long before then, but all that would matter would be escaping Beckett.
She now sat on the bed trying to think of possible escape plans. She was interrupted by a sailor who presented her with a food tray. He left without saying a word. She thought it was quite rude, but that didn't matter now because at least she had something to eat.
The tray was full of fruit; a large bunch of purple grapes, two bananas, an apple and an orange. She presumed that it was her lunch and began to eat away at the grapes. She followed with the bananas and the apple. She was peeling the orange when there was a fiddling at the door. She placed it on the tray and waited to see who it would be.
Mercer entered closing the door behind him with one hand; the other gripped a large lump of white material. It was what Elizabeth had expected earlier.
"Are you just going to leave that here and say nothing to me, just like that sailor did when he brought me the fruit? Or did his lordship give you something to say?" she asked insolently.
"The fruit was sent with complements of Lord Beckett, nothing else need be said. Although, he did give me something to say about this," Mercer stepped closer to Elizabeth who now stood at the front of the bed. "He said he wants you dressed in this, looking your best before the ship bell sounds to mark five this evening. I'm to wait just outside in the place of the sailor so I can deliver you on time. Am I clear on that miss?"
"Yes," she said and snatched the dress. Now that she'd had a closer look she noticed that it was more of a cream coloured dress than a white one, with gold floral patterns and fine lace around the neck. It was beautiful - just like her last one had been before it was drenched and left to rot in that filthy Fort Charles prison cell with her.
"Good," Mercer finally said before leaving the room to wait outside.
Elizabeth held the dress and felt the soft but yet rough fabric. It was soft where the cotton was but the lace and the gold parts were a little rough. It was now that she really came to see that this was all actually going to happen.
She slipped her night gown off and threw it on the bed. When she stood at a small bowl that was full of water - which had only appeared on the table in her room after dinner last night - she immediately knew what it could and would be used for. She washed her face with the water, and then dried it with the small towel. She felt fresh and relieved.
This left only one other thing that she could think to do with the water. She took her under garments off, also discarding them to have the same outcome as her night gown. She sat at the small rectangle table's only chair completely exposed. She then took the small cloth that she'd used to wipe her face and dripped it into the bowl. After it was completely lathered with water again, she rang out the excess water; she only needed the cloth to be damp. She knew exactly what kind of dirty place would need cleaning in order to please her new husband that night. She parted her legs. As she smoothed the cold cloth over her warm core she felt a slight tingle, a tingle similar to the ones she'd felt last night. But that wasn't what she wanted to feel, she didn't want to pleasure herself, not now. She wanted to wipe last night's evidence away, every last bit.
When she pulled the cloth up she looked at what she'd just taken off herself. She wasn't too sure of how much there was down there until now. There was a lot; the side of the cloth that had met her parted lips was covered in her releases. "It wasn't even a climax... but it was enough to do that," she thought, slightly amazed by the amount. She placed the cloth in the bowl and left it there.
She placed herself in the same undergarments that she'd worn before; they were the only pair that she had. She laced up her strays. She knew that she wouldn't be the next one to unlace them; Beckett would have that pleasure all to himself.
When she unfolded her new dress ready to try it on she found a hair ornament. It was a shadowy green jewelled clasp. She settled the clip on her vanity and then slipped into her new dress. It just fit; luckily it wasn't as tight as she'd thought it was going to be and that was surprising because most of her dresses were uncomfortable.
All she needed now was to have her hair done. She sat at her vanity and brushed her hair back and into the clip. She was now complete.
She unpeeled and ate the orange that she'd left before and went back to sitting there with her thoughts.
My how time flies, it was now just past three – only two more hours of freedom left.
She was really anxious now. She watched the clock through the reflection in the vanity mirror. It was driving her insane! She was waiting impatiently for something that she didn't really want to go through with, it was odd, but she couldn't help herself...
Before Elizabeth knew it, it was time for her to go and Mercer entered and took her by the arm - dragging her through the ship. She didn't dare say anything, though she did try to be purposely difficult by not keeping up with Mercer's pace.
They eventually came to a staircase. She knew what was up there – the deck – she could see the orange evening light coming through at the top of the stairs.
Mercer's dull tone came from behind her as he shoved her up the stairs. "Walk up these and then continue on to the other side of the deck. Oh, and a word of advice, don't try anything, not even a rude tone, Beckett demands you be silent unless you're asked to speak."
'So the other side would be...the...' Her thought was blocked out when Mercer gave her another shove in the back. "Alright, I'm going, I can't bloody well help it if I'm feeling a little traumatized!" she growled back at him.
Mercer just chuckled something cold and gave her yet another shove in the back. That shove was all she needed to get to the top of the staircase. She was now standing straight on to the other side of the deck where she could see James and Beckett and some other man who seemed to be the one with the duty of pronouncing them man and wife, standing at what seemed to be a makeshift altar. It was a pretty sight, large blue material hanging over the sides of the railing. She thought he'd put no effort into decor because he'd want to get it over and done with, and then make great haste to bed her.
She forced her feet to move forwards and walk towards her loss of freedom – Beckett. He obviously wanted his whole crew to watch; either that or they were there to prevent her from escaping. But there was no escape, no hope, none at all – It was all gone, lost.
Now she stood next to Beckett – her groom – and just like in one of her nightmares he took her wrist tightly and gave her a warning with his cold eyes. She froze up, unable to move. Nothing, her mind went completely blank. She became brain-dead.
By the time she'd snapped out of it, it was the time to say those two words. She felt faint thinking of 'I do' but when she said it she had to prevent her hand from coming up to slap in her the mouth. She'd said 'I do' and so had he. She'd also said her vows without even realising it, until now. And now, was too late to pull out. What was done was done and couldn't be undone. She was now Lady Elizabeth Beckett.
Now that Elizabeth had gained control of her mind, she could hear the priest say in a cheery voice "You may now kiss the bride," Elizabeth caught a very short sideways look at James. He looked upset, really upset and turned his head away.
Oh how she was just about to yell 'no' when her husband quickly pulled her in his arms and kissed her for a brieft moment. Then he pushed her away gently as she'd lingered too long in the moment in that brain-dead way. She looked around then back into her new husband's familiar smirk. She then felt heavy, her heart began to race which made her breath come quicker and she swayed ever so slightly... "No, please, not now, not here." She thought before she drifted away into a swivelled blur of dark colours that was the image of Beckett.
"Mercer, I think she's coming round. You may leave now," Beckett said and he turned to face Mercer.
"Sir," Mercer replied tipping his hat just before leaving.
Elizabeth had fainted and Beckett made haste to get her taken to his bed chamber. He had Mercer put her on the bed.
Beckett hadn't expected her to faint, though he had expected her to attempt some sort of rebellious refusal at some point during the vows. But this was probably better anyway. This was in a way a good thing because he wouldn't have to drag his new wife kicking and screaming all the way to his bed chamber. The only kicking and screaming she could and would do now was when he forced himself on her. He liked that she would become instantly powerless in the situation, giving him the upper hand, the one with the power and he knew how good power felt. It made him feel above everyone, which was good due to his height. It was that kind of power one could easily possess when one gets another into an agreement which they can't refuse and Elizabeth couldn't refuse and Beckett had Mr Turner to thank for that.
Elizabeth began to groan as she came into consciousness. Beckett had seen her movements and moved himself over to the desk in the corner of the room. He poured two glasses of wine. Elizabeth, in the time Beckett had taken to pour the wine and walked back over to the bed, had sat up.
"You look just as good unconscious as you do conscious," he said, complementing her beauty.
"So I've been told..." she said, narrowing her eyes as she looked at the wine he held out for her. "You know it's going to take a lot more than just wine to make me willingly sleep with you,"
"I know that." he spoke as if only one of them would be having sex tonight, which of course was true, he knew she'd most likely lie there motionless and complain about the pain she'd experience.
"My pardon?" she said taking the wine glass in hand as Beckett sat on the bed.
"Do we need to be concerned with that now?" he asked. He didn't want to talk to her; all he wanted to do right now was take her.
"I would very much like to see it before we...move on," she said. She then watched him dive into his waist coat.
He took a piece of folded paper from his pocket and waved it in her face. "There you go,"
Elizabeth immediately single handily opened it up and moved her attention to the signatures and seal at the bottom. "I still have to sign it, don't I?"
"You may do so latter," he said taking the pardon from her. "For instance, after we're done here," he continued in a tone she hadn't heard from him before. It was his tone that made Elizabeth think of a describing word 'seductive'. If losing her virginity was going to be what she needed to do to gain her pardon then so be it.
"So, the wine would be for my own good then?" she said before she skulled the wine and waved the empty glass in his face.
"That maybe so," he placed her empty glass on the bedside table before he drank his own and put it to the same fate.
He now stood at the side of the bed with prying eyes on his possession. "Now, to chasten the chaste," he said as he removed his waist coat.
"Oh God, whatever do you mean by chasten?" she asked quickly and she became concerned.
"I'm not actually going to punish you, stupid girl. Now come here," he said, perhaps it was intended to scare the living daylights out of Elizabeth who immediately did as she was told. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and looked up at him not knowing what she should do. How innocent she looked when she sat there like that. How irresistible she looked...
He took his white undershirt off, followed by the placing of his wig on the side table. She'd never seen a man half undressed like that before, it was all new to her and she wasn't too sure if she liked it or not.
He reached for the back of Elizabeth's head where he undid her clip quickly and roughly, taking a few of her hairs with it - Elizabeth flinched in pain. He discarded the clip with the shirt on the floor, tossing it backwards, the ornament made no noise as it landed on the shirt.
The way that he discarded the clip made her see how really careless he was with his possessions and as she was now one of his many - 'Please don't be like that with me,' she thought.
With her long strands of hair now freely sat on her shoulders she'd became more enticing and she shivered at this realisation. He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her up off the bed. When she stood, he spun her around and undid her strays. He did so with great speed; her strays became loosened in no time at all. He tugged her dress downwards and let it fall around her ankles. He then bit by bit undressed the rest her very slowly as he wanted to watch his chaste beauty quiver with fear knowing that she would no longer be pure. She did quiver innocently just the way he wanted her to – she took small nervous bites at her lower lip. She was now completely bare and as she was turned away from him he admired her backside 'I hope her front is just as nice nice,' he then spun her around to face him to find out.
He took in the site of her the two nicely shaped curves that were at her chest. He slowly moved his gaze downwards to inspect the real prize. 'Pleasing. Now let's see how you react to this,'
He gave her a small push that made her fall backwards onto the bed. She used her elbows to prop herself up.
He separated her legs and took in the sight of her golden hairs and pink lips "Mmmm, we have ourselves matching hair colour down there," he ran his fingers through her nest of the small blonde curls. Elizabeth didn't say anything. She just gasped at his rude observation as she watched him touch her.
She turned her attention away when she noticed that he'd moved his hand and had started to fiddle with the front of his breeches. He'd slipped them down over his hips after undoing them and stepped out of them. He then lunged forward onto the bed space in between her pated legs. He placed her arms above her head and pushed her further up the bed. Either she was aroused by his actions or the cool night air had gotten to her breasts and made her nipples hard. He couldn't tell.
His eyes swept up and down at her body, he noticed how tender her breasts looked and in a way that made Elizabeth feel small, defenceless. Elizabeth struggled, but this only made matters worse when she accidently opened her legs even wider in her struggle. Beckett took this as his opportune moment to get in close to her warm, wet centre.
When she felt the tip of his member touch the tight, moist flesh in-between her divided thighs, she helplessly cried "Stop!" even though she knew he wouldn't listen to her. There was nothing she could do. She gave in and stopped her resistance...for now. Beckett now leant against her with a firm grip on both her breasts, slowing circling his thumbs around her hard nipples. He then violently kissed her neck, the skin in-between her breasts and finally his last was planted at her apex at the top of her parted legs. She powerlessly moaned at that last vigorous placing of where his lips and warm breath were upon her. She looked down at him as he raised his head to reveal a seductive smirk.
He moved himself up close to her entrance again, this time he pressed himself into her wetness. Elizabeth gasped at the new sensation; it was much better than she'd already experienced. No, she didn't want it to feel nice. She moved her hands up planning to push him off her but she failed. Beckett took her hands and pinned them to the bed on either side of her head. He kept a firm grip on them as he thrust into her. She was still being difficult; she shook her head and helplessly tried to get his tight grip off her wrists, pushing his grip upwards and off the bed. It was no use, she wasn't strong enough.
If only he had three hands, the third would keep her mouth shut. "Please, it hurts, stop!" she pleaded again. He just ignored her and drove himself further into her. She was tight and he thought she had quite a thick feminine barrier to break, it was no wonder she complained. She groaned whilst she held back the need to cry. "Be quiet you ungrateful bitch," he said after another hard, and to her painful, thrust, which she cried out in pain because of. She didn't dare say another word now, though she did occasionally groan in pain. He could see that she didn't want this and that she was upset but that's what made him enjoy taking her even more.
He continued to thrust harder and kiss her breasts and stomach, occasionally getting a sharp gasp from his wife's lips. She watched him as he ravished her. He now really began to thrust hard and deep. Her once pure body gave into the sensational throbbing in-between her thighs and she let out one large moan that was combined with a sudden whimper as she felt her hymen tare.
Just before he realised he'd broken her, he found his climax and left his seed. He then released her hands and slid under the sheets. "The towel I had you lie on - clean yourself with it and get back into bed immediately or else I'll have you again," he lied of course, he knew that he wouldn't have the energy to take her again, even if he hadn't wanted to do so as a punishment.
She'd sat up and attempted to cover herself. She looked down to see the towel was red that she hadn't noticed before, she thought it was white... no, it wasn't a red towel; it was the white towel stained with her blood. She swung over the other side of the bed and cleaned the blood away with the towel. "You needn't bother getting dressed either," he said lifelessly to her bare back.
When Elizabeth was sure she'd wiped away the remnants of her virginity, she folded the towel so the blood was on the inside and placed it on the bed side table. She slipped into bed. Immediately Beckett put his arms around her body and began to make kisses that would surely leave marks all down her neck and arm. She still kept the need to cry inside her as she knew he wouldn't tolerate her if she let it out.
"See, it really did require more than the wine to get this," he whispered into her ear. She'd turned to him to give him a rather displeased look; he just kissed her and ignored her facial expression. He then turned her over and placed her on his chest. She thought that when a man would do that to her that she would enjoy it, but this man was Lord Beckett and she didn't get close to enjoying it. She didn't resist or fight back...she simply gave in, she gave away her freedom.
Oh and that thing that I needed to thank my friend Twix for – as I didn't want to err spoil it at the top – was for the fainting scene. I've never fainted or anything like that so yeah asking him helped a great deal. Twix and Hungry Student you're legends.