Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and dialogue belong to Disney.
A/N: Back again, with another chapter. This one is has a little more favourable J/E action, for those of you disappointed in the last chapter (myself included). Thanks to everyone who commented!
Summary: As Jack ferries Elizabeth Turner between her island and her husband, their relationship grows into something no one could have ever foreseen.
Between Dark and Light: A Decade of Love
By: Sinnamon Spider
With William balanced on her hip and a fresh blackberry pie in her hand, Elizabeth carefully made her way down the ridge and followed the hard-tramped dirt path into the village proper. She nodded to Mrs Henry and Mrs Cooper, talking to each other over their garden fences and they waved back. She paused to smile at a group of noisy children who bypassed her with shouts of "'Lo Mrs Turner!" Jeremiah Able, her mail carrier, broke off from the pack to approach her. He was just turned nine and his childish roundness was beginning to lengthen into lanky adolescence. He tugged his forelock respectfully. "Mrs Turner, my mum would love if you'd pay her a visit," he said. "She hasn't seen you in a fortnight, she says."
Elizabeth nodded and started to reply, but William cut her off. "Byebyebyebyebyebyebye!" he squealed. Jeremiah grinned. "Talkin', is he?"
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Yes, and continually. He learns a new word and shouts it as many times as he thinks necessary."
The redheaded boy grinned wider. "You shoulda heard Lacey," he said, mentioning his younger sister. "She picked up some rough language from somewhere and she swore like a sailor. Mum nearly had a conniption fit." Elizabeth snickered with him, imaging cheerful but firm Miriam Able hearing her daughter cursing.
"C'mon, Jer!" Most of the children had gone on, but a few boys waited impatiently. Elizabeth waved Jeremiah away with a smile, and he dashed off, bidding her a quick goodbye over his shoulder.
"Knock knock!" Elizabeth called, poking her head around the back counter of the Able's store. "Lizzie! Come in, come in!" Miriam said brightly, up to her forearms in flour.
"I come bearing gifts" Elizabeth said with a grin, holding up the covered pie. Miriam dusted off her hands and came over to relieve Elizabeth of her burden. She peeked under the cloth. "Blackberry?" she guessed. Her friend nodded. "I took William berry picking yesterday. He enjoyed it, didn't you?" She set her son on his feet, holding until he had gained his balance, and the two women watched him toddling around the room. He settled in a corner where Lacey had abandoned a tower of wooden blocks, picking them up in chubby hands and chewing on the rounded edges.
"Talking yet?" Miriam asked, setting the pie on the stovetop to warm it. Elizabeth nodded. "Yes, he says 'ma' and 'bye' and a few others. He likes repeating them at the top of his lungs." She grinned at the other woman. "I heard you had some interesting experiences with Lacey's first words." Miriam rolled her eyes. "Heaven help me, it was a calamity. Her father is so soft-spoken I'm not even certain he knew the words, and I make a point not to use strong language around the children. She must have heard it in the store. I had an interesting few weeks explaining to everyone just why my pretty little girl had such a foul mouth."
They laughed together and William laughed too, before hurling a block at the wall.
"So when are you off to see your husband?" Miriam whisked the cover off the pie and deftly cut two generous slices, placing Elizabeth's in front of her and crowning it with a dollop of thick yellow custard.
"Tomorrow, if Captain Sparrow is on time. He sometimes gets…sidetracked."
Miriam Able was a very intelligent woman, but if she noted the fear and anxiety and longing in her companion's voice, she did not comment on it. "Seeing William so big will be a treat for him," she said instead.
Elizabeth turned to look at her son, who had gone back to chewing on the blocks. His chestnut ringlets, which she had not yet had the heart to cut, brushed his shoulders. His brown eyes sparkled at her. But there was still no telling who his father was, with any certainty.
But over the last year, spent learning with her little boy, she had found that his parentage mattered less than it had before. He was healthy and whole and clever and happy, and that was really all that was important. Unless it became vitally important, she need never let him know that the man he would call "Father" might not be his sire.
While her worry about her son's father had lessened over time, her unease about her parting with Jack Sparrow had only intensified. She had spent many sleepless nights dreading seeing him again, not knowing how he would treat her, wondering if he was still upset. She had even written him not to come, but had never sent the letter; she assured herself that she couldn't let Will go two years without seeing his child, but in reality, she couldn't wait so long to see Jack, all apprehension aside.
She spent an enjoyable afternoon with Miriam, bringing home a few supplies for her journey. As William fell asleep quickly, tucked into the cradle he would soon outgrow, his mother tossed and turned all night long.
Jack paused on the ridge, staring at the little cottage. He had missed Elizabeth all year, but the feeling was never stronger than now, when he was seconds from her door. He had regretted not seeing her off last year as soon as he had told Gibbs to take her, and spent most of the time sulking and being surly. A series of altercations with Barbossa, Jocard, and other lesser vagabonds had not lightened his spirits, and he was anticipating Elizabeth's return. At least she was nice to look at as she was irritating the spit out of him.
Before he could take the last ten steps to her door, it swung open, revealing a bright-eyed toddler, unsteady but quick on his feet, making an escape. Jack moved to intercept the child before he wandered off, as his mother appeared in the doorway.
"Jack!" She would had launched herself into his arms as soon as he gave her an opportunity, but her son was in her way, staring up at this stranger with a mixture of fear and curiosity on his little face. He paused in his mad dash and Elizabeth waited for the storm, but his interest won out, and his sunny smile split across his face. "Da!" he exclaimed.
Her heart stopped. She had been mentioning "Da" from time to time, getting him used to the word, but he had never said it before. And now, the first time he called out for his father – was it a sign?
Jack crouched to the child's level, his face grave. "Not me, boy, not me. We're off to see your da though. If you're through running away from your mother." He glanced up at Elizabeth, still frozen in horror.
"Out of the mouths of babes, Liz," he said quietly. She nodded, but her eyes were still wide and worried. He stood and moved toward her, but William, playing shy now, toddled to his mother and hid in her skirts. Elizabeth swept him up, using him as a shield between herself and the pirate captain.
He backed off immediately, face blank, and she cursed herself silently. "Ready?" he asked lightly. She nodded again, lowering William to the ground and retrieving her satchel from inside.
When she returned, Jack had his back to her, William held in gentle arms. The child was playing with a string of beads in Jack's hair, examining the trinkets. Though she couldn't see his face, Elizabeth could imagine his expression, and the vision sent a jolt through her body. She cleared her throat loudly and Jack jumped, quickly setting William down. "Let's be off, then." She followed him down the sandy ridge.
As the Pearl came into view, looking dark and sinisterly beautiful in the afternoon sunshine, Elizabeth watched her son's face light up at the sight. "Can you say boat?" she prodded. "'Oat," he parroted dutifully. She smiled.
Jack looked over, frowning. "It's 'ship', if you please," he corrected, sounding insulted. Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Really, Jack, ship is a bit advanced. He's only just begun speaking."
The pirate didn't reply, and as soon as Gibbs spotted them and came over, he disappeared into his cabin.
With William and Gibbs each entertained by the other – Gibbs attempting to coax "Gibbs" out of the boy – Elizabeth slipped away. She hesitated outside the door to the captain's cabin, before steeling her jaw and opening the door.
He looked up as she entered, but said nothing. She paused just inside the door, his lack of response – favourable or otherwise – throwing her off guard. Then her irritation took over and she snapped, "If you're going to ignore me the whole time, you needn't have bothered coming at all."
Her tone brought Jack's own annoyance quickly to the surface. "I'll keep that in mind, shall I?"
She blinked; he was usually more passive than that. He was frustratingly good at not rising to her bait. This was strange, but not enough to derail her. She tried her hand at guilt.
"If I'm too much of a burden, just say so. I'll be off your hands and you can spend your time doing something else, if you find my presence so distasteful."
"I find your attitude distasteful," he shot back. His lips were set in a tight line, his eyebrows drawn together, his head tilted disdainfully.
Shocked again by his behaviour, she lost her tenuous hold on her own emotions. She crumpled to her knees, breaking her eyes away from his angry face and staring at the worn wooden planks. From the edge of her vision she saw his feet start towards her and she looked up fast enough to catch the concern that fled from his eyes as they met hers.
"What can I say to you, Jack?" she asked quietly. "It seems that no matter what I say or do, it's wrong. You're acting so…strangely."
He held onto the façade of irritation a fraction longer before it fell away. He looked tired and bothered. "Perhaps you should just say nothing," he said, not nastily, sounding rather exhausted.
She tried to find the anger she knew she should react to such a statement with, tried to sweep to her feet and flounce out the door, but she suddenly felt just as drained as he looked. She dropped her eyes from his face, staring again at the floor, idly following the grain of the wood with a finger.
His boots thudded gently on the planks as he moved towards her, but she didn't look up. She was startled when he copied her earlier movement, dropping to his knees to gaze at her. She blinked once, twice; valiant efforts to keep the tears from starting, and he saw them shine, her eyes wide and hazy.
With a heavy sigh, he pulled her against his chest, cradling her gently. She fisted a hand in his soft shirt, curling the other arm around his back, clinging to him and breathing deeply. His hands stroked her hair.
Dimly she registered that he was speaking, and she focused on the whispered words. "I'm sorry, love, I'm sorry," he chanted softly, and she held on tighter, anchoring herself to him.
Then his hand was gentle on her chin, tilting her face to meet his, and their kiss was hesitant and timid, not their usual reckless passion. This was an apology, a reconnection, a search for forgiveness, and each found absolution in the other's arms.
Breathless and half-undressed, the knock on the door and sound of Gibbs' voice calling his captain made Elizabeth's heart constrict. Jack's mouth slipped from her skin to hiss in displeasure. "Comin'," he shouted back, and she marvelled at the steadiness of his voice, feeling both impressed and a bit insulted.
"Ma?" Elizabeth scrambled to her feet, struggling to retie her laces. Quick hands brushed hers away, tying her back together and caressing her hips before gliding away, and his boots sounded on the floor, the door opening.
"Ma!" William caught sight of his mother, who was hurriedly smoothing her hair. She caught her son as he barrelled towards her. "Did you have fun looking at the ship, sweetheart?" she asked, aiming a quick look at Jack. He grinned at her emphasis on "ship" and she grinned back, her heart light for the first time in months.
The Dutchman had still not arrived by sundown and she gave up her perch in the crow's nest, climbing down. She watched Marty and a few other men, who were amusing William with a complicated cat's cradle.
Familiar hands slipped around her waist and she jumped, but couldn't resist sinking back against his warmth. "Out in the open, Jack?" she questioned. She felt his shrug. "No one's payin' attention, love, they're too busy entertaining your little pirate prince."
She smiled at his joke. "Whoever's he is, he's got quite a pirate pedigree, hasn't he?" she replied, and he chuckled in her ear. "Well, Will's not much of a pirate, but I suppose he'll suffice." She snorted. "Captain of the Flying Dutchman? How could he not be much of a pirate?"
"He wouldn't be there without my helpin' him." But the jest was tinged with the regret and despair he still clearly felt, and she smoothed her hands over his where they were clasped lightly over her stomach, trying to convey forgiveness in her touch.
It was dark now, and cold; the temperature dropped sharply once the sun was gone. Regretfully she broke away from Jack, and went to collect her son. She didn't know who put up more of a fuss as she carried him off to bed: William or the pirates.
He was asleep by the time they reached her cabin, and Jack was waiting, stretched like a cat on her bed, silent and observant. He watched her dress William for bed, settling him into the trundle bed that had appeared in the cabin, stroking a light hand over his curls. He watched her strip away her own clothes, her eyes intent on his, until she was naked before him, and he caught her up and laid her down and aside from a few heady whispers, neither spoke again.
She returned to the crow's nest after sunrise, watching for the Dutchman when she wasn't watching Jack. He was actually doing his captain's duties, something she rarely saw; checking ropes and cables, issuing commands to deckhands and carpenters, conversing with the bosun.
The water parted with a ferocious splash, sending spray everywhere, and the Dutchman surfaced from the explosion. She could see Will at the helm, barking orders as water streamed from the rigging and rails.
She climbed down from the crow's nest, catching William as he scampered past her, Marty in pursuit in a game of tag that had the men roaring with laughter. Jack was still talking with the bosun, so she crossed the gangplank alone, letting William free when they were safely aboard the Dutchman.
He was on the move quickly; she had been surprised at how well he adapted to the rocking and pitching of the ships. Suddenly Will was in front of him, and he halted, wary of this strange man who beamed down at his mobile little boy.
Behind him, Elizabeth winced, hoping he wouldn't burst into tears at the sight of his father. He was usually comfortable with strangers, but his face was slightly puckered. It cleared, all of a sudden and he laughed delightedly, exclaiming, "Da!" loud and clear.
Her heart leapt – and dropped like a rock. Jack had appeared, having lost his balance as he swung over from the Pearl and falling ungracefully behind Will just as William had called out
But Will's face was surprised and elated and she hurried to scoop up the boy. "That's right, that's Da!" She handed him to Will, who blinked bemusedly at the string of babble his son issued at him. "How did you teach him Da?" he asked above the child's head. Elizabeth shrugged. "He picked it up, most children do. It's a common enough step from Ma."
Jack peered over Will's shoulder at William, who was happily informing anyone who would listen about his life in terms only he understood. "He makes more sense than you do, at least," the pirate quipped. Will smirked back at him. "I'd better keep him away from you, or he'll start sounding like an addled lunatic." Jack pulled a grotesque face that made William cackle and both men laughed along with him.
Elizabeth watched them quietly. She had spent most of her life surrounded by men, something that most women found disconcerting. But she loved their openness, their candour, their sincerity and firm ways. While she could curse the male gender with womanly fervour when the time called for it, she preferred their company most of the time, and as she observed the three who held the deepest places in her heart, she knew why.
William had taken to addressing Will as "Da", which greatly relieved Elizabeth. Will had whittled a small wooden horse for him, and after the novelty of chewing on its delicately carved head had worn off, William had christened it "Hoss" and split three pairs of britches trying to force it into his pocket. Elizabeth stitched them up painfully – sewing was something she had never excelled at, and she worked harder to scrub the bloodstains out of her son's clothes. They spent longer than usual together, taking nearly two weeks, until Jack returned one morning wearing a gleeful expression.
"So sorry to interrupt, but there's foolishness afoot in the Adriatic and where there's territory being disputed, there's treasures t'be gained." He was bright-eyed and excited, in his element; sowing seeds of discord and mistrust among his fellow pirates.
Will frowned, ever the cautious one, unlike his impetuous wife and madcap friend. "Shall I lend you a hand?"
Jack shrugged easily. "Come if you'd like. We can both take your little wife home and leave from her island."
As always, Elizabeth cringed internally at the thought of Jack walking haphazardly into a dangerous situation, as he was wont to do. A little voice in her head told her off for not worrying about her own husband, but she overruled it with a very concrete rebuttal: Will's heart was hidden in the Dead Man's Chest, buried under a hidden trapdoor in her cottage. He could not be harmed unless someone disturbed the heart. He was immortal. Jack, for all his schemes and plots, was not.
Elizabeth and William remained on the Dutchman, following the Pearl, and Will kissed them both goodbye as Jack stood by, waiting to bring them home. As William bounded around the small house greeting all the things he had left behind, Jack pulled her close, pressing his forehead against hers. "Be careful," she said sharply, trying to look him in the eye without going cross-eyed. He chuckled; she had clearly failed.
"Don't worry, love. When have you ever known me to get into any trouble?"
"Hah! Would you like them alphabetically, chronologically, or in order of the most dangerous?"
He bumped his head gently against hers. "No need to be cruel, darlin'. He kissed her long, lingeringly, before breaking away, not looking back as he jogged lightly over the sandy ridge.
"Ma?" William was leaning against her leg. "Da?" he asked, looking around. Elizabeth wondered which of the men he was looking for. "Da's not here now, baby. We'll see him in a year. " She looked outside, watching the white and black sails billowing in the breeze, as the ship of light and ship of dark sailed into the horizon.