A/N: Okay! This chapter didn't take nearly as long, which means I'm getting better, eh? ;) So, huge thanks to all my reviewers, Countcresent, Isen-norden-ss, Lady Elizabeth Beckett, Cupcakes and Tea, and RedFrost! I'm really glad to have you all with me! I know I've been a slow updater, but really, all of you guys really put a smile on my face. I promise to make it all up to you! (:

Disclaimer: I don't own Pirates of the Caribbean. Neither do I own the lovely characters presented herein. Except maybe any OFCs.

Warnings: Nothing, a bit of language.

Chapter Sixteen

Control.

Elizabeth woke up the next morning with a pillow stuffed in her face. She flinched and then realized that it was simply the pillow barricade that she had erected between her and Beckett the night before. Although he was relatively incapable of movement, she still didn't trust him enough to leave nothing between the two. She had put it up last night and had given him a proper warning, as well.

She was pleased to see that Beckett was still in the exact same position that she had left him in. His gossamer breathing was a sure sign that he was still sleeping. He didn't move a muscle as he slept.

Quietly, Elizabeth crept out of the room and walked out onto the deck. Captain Valor was gazing out towards a thin strip of land with a telescope, fast approaching.

"What's that, Captain? Port Royal?" she inquired curiously and anxiously.

"Yes, it is," he responded, grinning. "We've made it there much faster than I anticipated. I'll drop you and... err, Beckett, off at the pier. I myself can't be seen there, so I'll leave posthaste once the both of you are off."

She nodded. "Alright, then." Turning to him, Elizabeth said earnestly, "Thank you so much for all of your help, Captain Valor."

He took off his cap and mock-saluted. "'Tis no problem, Ms. Hall. Anything to help."

Smiling, Elizabeth headed back below deck to get Beckett. She stepped over by him and shook him lightly. "Beckett," she said, and then shook him harder. "Beckett!" she repeated.

He stirred and then his eyelids fluttered open. "Ms. Swann?" he murmured groggily, almost bewildered, and somewhat irritably.

"We're here at Port Royal," Elizabeth informed him, noting also his pleasantly surprised expression.

"Wonderful," he said, and started to sit up until he winced and fell back down.

Elizabeth sighed, shaking her head, and then helped him out. "Lean on me," she told him as she slung his arm over her shoulders.

"Ms. Swann, this is…" Beckett's voice trailed off.

"Shut up," she growled between grit teeth. "As soon as we get to Port royal, we can see a physician. Until then, you'll have to deal with leaning on me."

The two of them came clambering up onto the deck. The plank was lowered onto the port Royal docks as Elizabeth walked down slowly, Beckett dragging next to her weakly.

"Ms. Swann!" exclaimed Commodore Groves as he came running over. "Lord Beckett! You're injured!"

Beckett glanced up at Groves and managed to say, "Do escort Ms. Swann to my home, please, Commodore. And I myself would be most pleased if you could contact a physician to come meet me as soon as possible, while Parker escorts me to see Duke Bloodwoode."

"My Lord, there's only one problem with that…" Groves appeared nervous as he said, "Parker's gone missing. Him and Sparrow both were taken by Amadi and his crew. We also lost Barbossa and Gibbs, though we're not sure where."

Beckett simply stared at Groves, deathly and threateningly quiet. When he finally gathered enough self-control to speak again, his voice was noticeably shaking. "So you basically lost all of our prisoners. From one group of silly pirates."

Groves visibly cringed. "Yes, my Lord. I'm very sorry…."

Beckett shut his eyes and tried to imagine a happy place. Happy place. Sparkling unicorns. Radiant rainbows. Happy place, happy place, happy place….

"You goddamned nitwit!" he yelled, raising his voice for the first time in a while. Groves's eyes widened in utter fear. "All those precarious years of planning and moving everything perfectly into place—ruined! And all before you clearly couldn't handle holding onto Parker and the three measly prisoners we happened to be keeping! And not only that, but you also failed to search for both me and Ms. Swann after the pirate raid, leading us to rot and die at Port Faith of all godforsaken places!" He took several shuddering breaths before adding in a low, menacing voice, "Don't make me think that I made a dire error in choosing the next Commodore, Mr. Groves."

And with that remark, Elizabeth and Beckett headed for the Beckett manor.

Groves stood there, at a loss for words. He watched the ship that had dropped them off sail away into the distance, then his eyes flitted to the ocean waves.

Gillette came walking over, daring to inquire, "So, um, how did it go, Commodore?"

Groves swallowed. "I'll be lucky if I keep that title for long."

By the time they got to the Beckett manor, Elizabeth was exhausted. She collapsed onto the lounge couch and panted. Beckett himself settled down on the seat opposite of her, rubbing his hand over the reopened cut.

"We need to retrieve Sparrow and Parker. And Barbossa, too, eventually," Beckett muttered. "So unless Commodore Groves can prove himself useful again, I may just decide to promote someone else."

"Oh, please, Lord Beckett," Elizabeth begged softly. "He's only human. He simply just made one error. Give him another chance!"

"Why?" he responded acidly. "He failed," Beckett snapped miserably. "He doesn't deserve a second chance. When in lead of other men, you must keep in mind that you may not make any human mistakes!"

Elizabeth bit her lip, but then an idea came to her. "But Beckett, if you keep him, he'll be evermore grateful. He'll work even harder than any other new rookie could. He'd also be in your debt. He'd forever work to please you," she insisted.

He considered, then finally gave a sigh of defeat. "You're right, Ms. Swann," he admitted dully. "I suppose I'm too angry to see clearly."

She blinked, not expecting him to get in that easily. But then again, he was wounded and grumpy, and most likely didn't feel like arguing. Just as she was about to say something, there was a knock at the door. "I'll get it," she said as she got up, pacing over to the door, and opening it. "Hello?"

Standing there was a messenger. He smiled shyly at her, then said, "I'd like to see the Lord Beckett, please."

Beckett got up with a bit of a struggle, then walked over to the door. "I'm right here," he said in the best pleasant air he could manage in his miserable mood.

The messenger blinked and swallowed nervously. "Well, err, Lord Beckett, sir. The Duke Bloodwoode stated that he was willing to postpone his meeting with you in favor of your health, but would like to see Ms. Elizabeth Swann."

Elizabeth blinked. Duke Bloodwoode? See me? She remembered him faintly from parties and banquets and other formal social gatherings, where they'd exchanged greetings stiffly, the way nobles always did. But she couldn't fathom why he'd request for her on such short notice—and only her, in such a personal fashion.

"Well, can he wait? 'Til tomorrow, that is," she ventured hesitantly, not wanting to try his patience.

The messenger nodded. "He stated that as long as it was within the next week, it would be acceptable."

Elizabeth smiled, pleased. "Well, then. Expect to see me tomorrow, if you could send a carriage to escort me at, say, noon."

"That would be acceptable," the messenger stated, bowing curtly and heading off.

Then she closed the door, turning back to Beckett, only to see him appear bored and disinterested. "Do you know the Duke?" he inquired slightly curiously.

She shook her head. "No, not particularly… I can't say I know why he wishes to see me."

"You've never met before," Beckett questioned in the form of a statement.

"Well, we've exchanged greetings at formal banquets before… but he's never chatted with me, no," she replied. "I'm a bit apprehensive as to his intentions," she admitted. "What could he possibly want with me?"

"Perhaps he intends on courting you," Beckett replied mildly.

She blinked. The thought had never occurred to her, but now that she was thinking of it, she was a little repulsed. "We hardly know each other and he already intends on courting me?" Crossing her arms over her chest, she turned away in contempt.

"It was simply a suggestion, but I don't doubt it, really," he said smoothly. "Knowing the Duke, he's probably judged you on face value alone."

"But I'm a rowdy girl, constantly targeted by pirates," she argued. "Rumors are all spread about me secretly being a pirate at heart. Why would anyone want me?"

Beckett was silent for a moment. Then, softly, he murmured, "Perhaps it's because you're beautiful, Ms. Swann."

Her eyes widened. A compliment? From Cutler Beckett? Bewildered, she immediately whipped around to face him, but he was looking down away from her, adjusting the button of his coat.

"We should head upstairs," he suggested. "The physician will be here any minute now."

"Hey, Parker!" a voice shouted as the cell door clicked open.

Derrick blinked, rubbing some of the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. "Eh?"

"Amadi would like you to commence working on this ship," the sailor informed him.

Derrick didn't even bother veiling his annoyance. "Go back and tell Amadi or Sparrow or whoever that I'm not interested in becoming a pirate."

The sailor grabbed him roughly by the arm and tugged him from the cell. "You've no choice in the matter," he snarled. "We're about at Port Faith now, and we're running out of hands."

Derrick grunted and tore his arm from the pirate's grip. The two of them came clambering up the stairs onto the deck. He shielded his eyes from the blaring sunlight and glanced around. From afar, Port Faith could be seen in the distance. A ship was parked there, and he could hear a great rabble coming from it….

"You fools! Have you any idea who you'd thrown overboard?" Maiara snapped as she slapped another one of her sailors.

"N-no, ma'am," one of them stuttered. "He seemed a mighty lazy man to me, though, and you know what the Bible says about lazy men…."

"That was Lor…" Maiara cut herself off. She couldn't speak his name here; no, she'd have to say he was someone else. "That was… Oscar, my husband!"

A stark silence overtook the whole crew. Maiara stared at everyone of them, her eyes shining. "You are fired, all of you! Get lost!"

They quickly fled the vicinity as she turned towards an approaching ship. A pirate vessel, it seemed. A smile took her face. This would be amusing.

Elizabeth climbed out from the soothing bath waters and began to dry herself down, searching for something suitable to wear.

Dinner with Beckett tonight, she mused to herself. Just like before.

She decided on an elegant green velvet dress, another one that most certainly was not hers. Again, she wondered why Beckett had all these dresses, and where'd he'd gotten then from. By this point, it was quite clear that there was no Lady Beckett.

Which raised the question: Why? He was rich, quite past the age of marriage, and not so terrible0looking, either. She couldn't fathom as to why he hadn't wedded yet, or even tried courting a lady before.

Unless he wouldn't court a woman because he was a h….

No, no. Not possible.

Elizabeth finished changing and looked over herself in the mirror. Perfect. She spun, letting her skirts spin. This period of rest was just so necessary. All that groggy dirt rubbed from her body….

She quickly began heading for the dining room. By then, Beckett should have finished his appointment with the physician. Cautiously, she approached the double doors and swung them open.

Beckett was sitting at the head of the table, waiting patiently for her. During the time that she had been preparing, he had as well. His wig was back on his head, and he was dressed in fresh, crisp clothes like before. "Ms. Swann," he said, gesturing at a seat by his side. "I've been waiting."

"Sorry. I was busy changing," she explained. Taking a seat, she added, "Did the physician mention anything of particular note?"

He shook his head. "No infection, surprisingly. He expects a hasty recovery… perhaps a few months. He warned me also to put a temporary hiatus on the mission while the wound is still fresh."

"And will you?" Elizabeth inquired. "Knowing your workaholic mannerisms, I doubt you'll put a break in your conquest just so that your wound may heal safely."

Beckett pursed his lips, then hesitated. "I haven't decided yet," he responded honestly. "We're currently in a very poor situation, Ms. Swann. We're—"

"'We'?" Elizabeth interrupted with a sly smile. "I wasn't aware that I'm now part of your coup, Beckett."

"It's Lord Beckett," he reminded her tersely. "And anyways, as I was saying, we've lost two of the Pirate Lords—Barbossa and Sparrow. Parker has also gone missing. We've been humiliated, as well, to say in the least." A pause , and then; "So, I'd not think it wise to strike again so quickly. Better to recuperate our forces so that we are stronger than before."

"I'm guessing that another failure won't be tolerated," she questioned with a statement.

"No, certainly not." Beckett shook his head. "As Chairperson of the Company, I hold certain obligations. That is, business first. Were I to invest too much in my own personal conquests to eradicate piracy without positive result, I am sure that riots and all other unsaintly sorts of public demonstrations will emerge."

Elizabeth nodded. "So we mustn't fail again."

"Precisely." He smirked a bit, slightly arrogantly. "I'm making a gamble, Ms. Swann. A gamble to erase the abhorrent pirates. I'll either eradicate them all or die trying. There is no other alternative."

That night, Beckett slowly ascended the staircase up to his office, carrying with him a lantern. In his other hand, he held the compass, following the way it pointed. His eyes carefully glanced upwards every so few paces so as not to bump into any obstructions. Then, the compass needle pointed out the balcony towards the sea. Beckett slowly lowered the instrument, gazing out at the oceans. The flickering candle-lights of Port Royal lit up the waves golden, gilding the sea-foam with a fiery hue. Seagulls settled down over the pier, their restless wings finally holding by their breasts. Horse-driven carriages lazily made their way through the streets as busy husbands returned home to their wives.

Beckett smiled softly, the corners of his mouth barely lifting. A snort escaped his nostrils as he placed the lantern down, resting his hands upon the rail, simply watching.

Perfect. Just perfect.

And all of this was his now. Without Governor Swann, he was in control. He was the authority figure. Port Royal was his.

That is, until Ms. Swann wedded someone, after which the powers over Jamaica would be transferred to her husband.

…Which was annoying. Perhaps that was indeed the Duke Bloodwoode's plan. To wed her and then take the authority for himself.

But there was a way around that. Of course there was. And it would all begin with bargaining with Ms. Swann. If he could somehow get her to sign a contract that would turn over her authority to him, that would be wonderful. And he was positive, almost positive, that Elizabeth didn't care for inheriting her father's duties and would pass it on to him without defiance.

That might look shady, though. Signing the powers from her. People would think it odd, too controlling. No, there must be an alternative. There must be another way to get those powers without looking too upfront—

Oh.

Oh my.

A/N: This one didn't take as long, did it? Sorry that this chapter is a little boring, nothing really happened in it. So currently the state of affairs! Parker, Sparrow, and Teague are on Amadi's ship, headed for Port Faith to escape the reaches of the Company, where Maiara is also waiting. Groves is in some seriously deep trouble, because Beckett is pissed. Bloodwoode wants to meet up with Elizabeth, and all the while, Gibbs and Barbossa are hiding away in Tortuga, enjoying themselves….

Sheesh, there's just so much going on! But let's hope we can tie this all in together, huh? (;