Elizabeth returned to her duties a couple days later, favoring her ankle only a little. Her thoughts, however, were plagued by her recent conversations with Barbossa. He didn't disguise the fact that he wanted her, and while it disturbed her on one level, it relieved her on another. There had been so many coy games with Will, practically from the day they'd met, and they had kept her frustrated with him. She remembered over half a dozen times when she'd wanted to just grab him and kiss him whenever & wherever they were because she'd been so tired of waiting for him to make a move. Not that she'd been interested in Norrington, but if she had been, she was sure that he would have been the same way.
Jack had been open with his wants, but somehow Elizabeth thought that she could trust Barbossa more. It was absurd, she knew – they were both pirates, after all – but Jack had proven that he would always put himself first even at the peril of his crew while Barbossa had done just the opposite. And besides that, Barbossa had come looking for her to join him on his journey to the Colonies (at least, she hoped he'd made the trip to Shipwreck Island for more than just careening the ship). Jack hadn't sought her out for anything.
Elizabeth's thoughts returned to Will. She loved him; she truly did. She was his wife and, while their vows had been extensively curtailed, they still included – in her mind – a vow of fidelity, and she was positive that Will thought the same. She couldn't deny that ten years was a very long time, though. She allowed herself to think about that for a few moments. Every ten years. If she lived to be sixty or so that meant that she would see her husband four or five more times in her life.
Wait. Elizabeth paced in her cabin as thoughts swirled around in her garbled mind. Four or five more times in my entire life? Remembering Barbossa's caresses made her hang her head in confusion, and she instinctively wrapped her arms around her upper body. Maybe she and Will should have discussed the separation before he'd left. She wondered if Barbossa was right; if Will would assume that she wouldn't deny herself physical pleasure for all those years in between visits or if he would think that she would happily do without and wait for him. As she continued pacing, she thought about his crew aboard The Flying Dutchman. They were mostly men, but a couple women had been revealed when Will took over and the curse lifted from the ship. Will he be drawn to them when his needs became too much? Or will he be able to wait for me? She thought about Will being with someone else, maybe one of those women. There was a part of her that didn't like it, but then she realized how much of a hypocrite that made her. If she was thinking of being with someone else, then certainly he could, too. He deserved pleasure the same as her. She racked her brain trying to figure out why they should they suffer when apart. They'd definitely suffered enough as it was the past couple years. Couldn't they enjoy the comfort of someone else while waiting for each other? She let out an anguished groan in the small cabin; God help her – she sounded like a pirate! They were married, and regardless of the circumstance, of course they couldn't enjoy another's comfort. That was the whole point of being married!
Elizabeth sighed and shook her head as she continued pacing. It was all so complicated. The past six years of her life had been nothing but complicated, and she grew weary of it. She hadn't wanted to give up the sea completely, but after Will left to do the job that she had forced him into, she didn't really know what to do with herself. She'd told herself that after all the events that had taken place – losing her home, losing her father, nearly losing her life – she'd wanted something a little easier for a change, something sort of normal.
You had easy and 'sort of' normal at Shipwreck Island, a voice reminded her. And you were bored out of your mind. You were positively miserable.
Elizabeth couldn't argue with herself. It was true; she had been miserable, but it didn't mean that she wanted to go from one extreme to the other, either.
What extreme, the voice continued. Barbossa hasn't asked you for your hand or anything else. He's just offered his bed, in a sense. He's not making this complicated – you are. He's not talked of love or commitment. You're the one getting caught up in all that because of Will. Technically, you're married, yes, but what kind of marriage is it, really? Did either of you even marry for the right reasons?
Elizabeth sat down on the end of her bed with a huff. Barbossa hadn't offered her anything more than his physical comfort. Well, he hadn't really offered it, exactly, but she knew that if she crawled into his bed, he wouldn't kick her out. Her marriage didn't bother him in the slightest. She was the one trying to make it more than it was.
Elizabeth wondered if Barbossa's words of abstinence since rejoining the living were true. He easily could have made up an answer, but he hadn't. She also knew that he was not the type to use lies to woo and persuade women into his bed. He was wily, yes, but he didn't seem to be a spark with women; he was just too blunt for such charms.
So, what he'd told her had to be truth then, though a seemingly odd truth. Elizabeth remembered his comment of "with little more than a nod, you'd be naked and underneath me on my bed" and wondered if he'd meant right then or after he'd had his 'first'. Maybe he would consider her for that first. A part of her was flattered by that idea, if he was, because she understood all too well the 'waiting' part, and she knew that for a pirate, that sort of gallantry was nonexistent. Barbossa, she'd learned, was unlike most pirates, though, and he did a good job of disguising it. Elizabeth had to admit, whether she liked it or not, that she was seriously considering allowing Captain Hector Barbossa to plunder a bit more than the English ships they'd surely encounter, and that didn't bother her as much as she thought – and hoped – that it would.
Barbossa restricted his communication with Elizabeth for three days. He had to force himself not to stare at her during the day, but with the way her brunette tendrils blew gently about her face from the sea breeze when she wore her hair loose, that task was damn near impossible. She was a beautiful lass, yet she was no primadonna. Elizabeth was braver than a lot of the men he'd known, and she was ten times feistier, as well. She reminded him quite a bit of Catherine in that way. The mother of his son had not taken lip from anyone. She'd been kind and pleasant until wronged, and then she'd had no problem putting someone back in line. Most of the women that Barbossa had met over the years had mainly been one extreme or the other, and he detested that, hence why he'd chosen to remain alone; one of the reasons, anyway.
Elizabeth also hadn't told Barbossa to shove off. He'd tried convincing himself that stopping by Shipwreck Island had been coincidental, but it hadn't. It had been a purely selfish indulgence. He'd missed her presence on the ship, and he'd decided to see if she wanted to go with him to the Colonies, fairly certain that she would. He'd missed her, plain and simple, and when he'd seen how forlorn she was there with Teague, it had created the opportunity that he'd been hoping for to get her back on the ship.
Then after Elizabeth had boarded the ship, Barbossa's desire for her flared up again like whale oil thrown on a fire, and he couldn't continue to ignore it, wrong or not. He was a pirate; he didn't care that he'd married her to Turner. He wanted her, and if she'd let him, he'd have her. The curious thing was that when he decided to be a bit brash with her, she didn't put him back in his place, as she easily could have – should have even. He'd noticed the apprehensive looks and the scarlet upon her cheeks in response to his comments – he'd been with enough women to know what it meant. She was having longings, same as him, but her marriage was preventing her from acting on them.
Barbossa smirked where he sat in bed trying to read. Except when she asked me to continue rubbing her foot the other night, he thought smugly. That request had been more than bold coming from a married woman. It was also the night that he'd essentially told her that he'd accept her in his bed any time. It hadn't surprised her; it had been a statement of the obvious, really. She was young and beautiful; any virile man with a sane mind would accept her in his bed.
Carrying Elizabeth to bed had been another completely selfish indulgence, Barbossa had to admit. He didn't have to place her on the bed like he had, but he'd wanted to. The look in her eyes had been unmistakable. She had not gazed upon him with disgust as a proper married woman should have; she'd gazed upon him with curiosity as a new lover might. It had been some time since a woman had looked at him in that way, and he couldn't help but want more. Underneath his layers of daggers and pistols and scars and such, he was only a man that wanted what every other man wanted – genuine attentions from a pretty lass.
With that thought, Barbossa decided to see where Elizabeth was. She was much more interesting than the book he'd been trying to read. It was quite late, but he'd heard the soft click of her door earlier, so he knew she was out of her cabin. Reaching for his hat, he headed for the deck.
It didn't take him long to spot Elizabeth. She was standing on the quiet and deserted deck barefoot (which he'd told her not to do a dozen times) wearing only her long, white nightgown – God help him – with her arms on the railing, gazing out over the ocean like she often did, and her hair hanging loose, waving ever so slightly from the sea breeze. He knew that the water calmed her mind, as it did his – it was just one reason why they were both drawn to her, like a moth to a flame.
"Can't sleep again?" Barbossa asked as he purposely stood behind her, feeling a little more daring than usual.
It took a moment for Elizabeth to reply as her mind was a maelstrom of thoughts that twisted and churned dangerously. She'd been hoping that he would remain in his cabin while she was out of hers, but she should have known better. "Sleep is often overrated," she remarked quietly. It seemed to be for her, anyway.
Barbossa took a step closer, resisting the urge to wrap his arms around her as he wanted to do. Everyone was asleep except for Morley up in the Crow's Nest, so they were alone on the deck. "What plagues yer thoughts this night?" he asked, assuming that she would say her husband. He was almost sorry that he asked.
Elizabeth sighed. "You are."
"Me?" Barbossa repeated, quite surprised by her admission, yet pleased at the same time. "To what do I owe the honor?" It was a genuine question; he was not teasing. He'd not even considered that he was on her mind.
Elizabeth hadn't planned on confessing her thoughts to the salty pirate, but she couldn't find a reason not to, either. "It's just…I don't…you – " she stammered, not exactly sure how to reply to his question. "You confuse me, is all." That was a safe and simple answer, and it summed up her feelings perfectly.
Ah. So he was getting to her. Barbossa didn't even try to stop the smile that appeared on his face as he stood behind her. "May I ask how I have confused yeh so I might try to un-confuse yeh?" It was a noble gesture; Barbossa was nothing if helpful.
Elizabeth bit her lip, wondering just how much she should reveal. It was times like those when she wished her mother had been around when she was growing up. Part of her forthrightness was because she knew no better and because she'd grown up around men, mostly those in the Royal Navy under the direction of her father. Her tutor had taught her how to behave properly in public, but she'd never addressed how to behave in private, especially with the opposite sex, because it had been assumed Elizabeth would marry and that would be that – only it wasn't.
"You make me feel things that are very difficult not to…think about," she finally admitted, her voice soft in the black of night around them. "You can be quite vexing, you know."
Barbossa smiled even more. He'd thought she'd been the vexing one. He was almost afraid to think that she might be considering giving in to her wants. "I do not purposely vex," he stated truthfully.
Elizabeth smiled then as she gazed out across the dark, churning ocean, thankful that he couldn't see her. "I know you don't. You're just being you."
Barbossa stepped close enough to place his hands on either side of her forearms where they rested on the ledge and leaned in so that his mouth was beside of her ear. "So, what do we do with yer confusion and my vexing?" he asked quietly, noticing that she did not move when he closed her in. She didn't even flinch.
Elizabeth hadn't been prepared to feel Barbossa's warm breath tickle her ear as he spoke, and it was all she could do to not moan and lean back against him. She told herself that she should push him away and tell him that their behavior was all sorts of wrong and had to stop, but the words never formed past being just thoughts in her mind.
You can't tell him that because that's not what you want, her inner voice chimed. Curiosity has always gotten the better of you. You've never been good at self-restraint, and you likely never will be.
So, the question remained; what were they going to do?
"I suppose that's what I've been trying to figure out," Elizabeth answered, closing her eyes when she felt Barbossa gently lean his head against hers.
"So, yeh haven't come to a conclusion then?" he asked, purposely allowing his breath to ghost across her ear again as he spoke. Her hesitation gave him hope, he had to admit, so he wanted to make sure she had plenty to think about.
Elizabeth's entire body tingled with undeniable desire for the man who all but had his arms wrapped around her there on the deck. Barbossa had never been that close to her before – not in that intimate sort of way; the bathhouse situation had been forced – but that moment was of their own choosing. She quickly discovered that it was not at all awkward like she'd thought – hoped – it would be. Instead, his presence was comfortable, soothing and familiar. It was maddeningly unhelpful.
"I have not," she answered. The shakiness in her voice was most revealing, and Elizabeth wondered if it even mattered at that point. Everything was in place for them – all she had to do was say yes. Or nod. She was sure that would be enough.
"I see," Barbossa spoke in nearly a whisper. He turned his head so that his lips just barely brushed the sensitive shell of her ear, and he tried not to grin when he heard her soft gasp. "I must thank yeh for the consideration then, aye?"
And with that, Elizabeth felt the immediate loss of his body heat that had been warming her as she heard him walk back to his cabin, and she shivered in the damp air. His presence had been welcome – she couldn't deny that – and she'd enjoyed his embrace. She'd wanted nothing more than to feel his arms wrap around her where she stood, and if he'd remained there much longer, she was afraid that she would have given in. In fact, she grew closer and closer to giving in every day.
What am I going to do, she mentally lamented and dropped her forehead to the railing.
Barbossa thought long and hard about Elizabeth's revelation on the deck. If he'd been a proper gentleman, he might have curbed his actions or guarded his speech as not to add to her dilemma. Because he was a pirate, because he wanted her and because she seemed to want him in return, he would do neither of those things. Instead, he decided to make it a point to see her multiple times a day, to stand closer to her than he would have otherwise and to dine with her each night. Elizabeth had made her decision – he was only providing her motivation for seeing it through because he was helpful like that.
Four days had passed since Elizabeth confessed her confusion to Barbossa, and she was even more confused. It seemed like he was there every time she turned around. She would have thought he was doing it on purpose, but most of the time, he didn't look at her or speak to her. She told herself that she was being silly – they were confined on a ship – seeing him throughout the day was expected and normal.
Currently, Elizabeth sat on a crate in their makeshift stockroom having checked their food and supplies. She'd needed time to think, and her task had allowed for just that.
She'd been driving herself mad trying to determine what would happen if she actually shared a bed with Barbossa, and so far, she hadn't been able to come up with a single thing. It wouldn't change her love Will. It wouldn't alter their separation in any way. It wouldn't change anything with Barbossa. So, what would change?
She continuously reminded herself of their vows – shortened though they were – but then she realized something. She was driving herself mad about a non-spoken and assumed vow when Will wasn't around for the only actual spoken one they'd had – 'in sickness and health'. They were separated for ten years – they couldn't keep any of their vows, spoken or not. Certainly that made a difference, didn't it? What made one vow more important than another when they couldn't keep any of them?
"There be our king."
Barbossa's words startled Elizabeth, who didn't hear his approach, and she jumped up from the crate.
"You scared me," she admitted, trying to calm her heart. It always raced when he was around, it seemed.
"Apologies," Barbossa replied with a smirk as he walked towards her, the plume of his hat bouncing slightly with each step.
Elizabeth was rooted where she stood as she watched him. The determined look on his face as he steadily approached unnerved her, but when she tried to step backwards, she was stopped by the stack of barrels behind her.
"Wh-what are you – " she stammered nervously as he stopped directly in front of her, his steely eyes never leaving hers. She held her breath in anticipation as the distance between them began to disappear.
"Just came to get somethin' that I've wanted for a while," he told her, purposely leaning close as if to kiss her, but then he reached into the bin beside her and grabbed a shiny, green apple. "Yeh know how much I like these juicy apples," he added, tossing it up and catching it.
When Barbossa bit into the apple and turned to leave, Elizabeth finally started breathing again. She'd thought that he'd been reaching for more than a piece of fruit. She shook her head and sat back down. Actually, a tiny part of her was disappointed that he had been after just the fruit.
Damn.
Later that evening, Elizabeth joined Barbossa for dinner as she had for the past few nights. They sat where they usually did, discussed their normal topics – nothing was out of the ordinary. They'd shared some wine, as well, so Elizabeth was quite relaxed when she announced that she was going to bed.
In an effort to help with her 'confusion', Barbossa walked Elizabeth to the door, something that he'd never done. When she reached for the metal knob, he gently took her hand and lifted it to his mouth. He pressed his lips to the top of it and then turned her hand over so that he could place another kiss in her palm. The look of shock on her face was exquisite, and he narrowly resisted the urge to press her against the door in a feverish kiss.
"Sleep well, m'lady," he said, opening the door for her.
Unable to speak, Elizabeth returned to her room dumbfounded. She sat down on her bed and stared at her palm for over ten minutes.
The next evening, Elizabeth decided that she needed a break from her thoughts. They were about to get her in serious trouble, and after the captain's behavior the previous night, she knew that that trouble wasn't far off. She quickly found the rum stashed in the back corner of the stockroom and helped herself. She only wanted a little – just enough to stop her crazy thoughts. Once she'd silenced them, she'd go back to her cabin and go to bed.
Barbossa was irritated. Elizabeth never showed for dinner. He'd finally given up waiting for her and finished his food. The least she could have done was let him know that she wouldn't be there. He hadn't asked her to dinner, but he hadn't asked her the past number of nights, either; she'd just showed up. He didn't think that he had to ask anymore.
A knock disrupted his caustic thoughts.
"What?" he barked.
Gibbs entered. "Cap'n, Elizabeth be down in the stockroom," he shared. "She's – uh – had a bit of rum."
Barbossa narrowed his eyes. "And what would yeh have me do about it?"
"She's drank a lot, Cap'n. Singin' and everythin'. Should I just leave her there?"
Barbossa snorted and looked away with a shake of his head, wondering if her 'marks' were upsetting her again. At least it explained why she wasn't at dinner. "No, Gibbs. If she's had that much, she'll need to be helped to her cabin," he said wearily. "I'll fetch her."
Barbossa muttered to himself the entire way. "Drinkin' in the stockroom…what be wrong with that lass…sittin' and waitin' to eat me own dinner while she gets herself loaded to the gunwalls…blasted woman king…ought to leave her down there with the bilge rats."
He stomped his way down the wooden steps into the dark room lit by only one lantern, and that's when he heard her.
"…and pilfer, we filch and sack. Drink up me hearties, yo ho. Maraud and embezzle and – "
"Elizabeth," Barbossa interrupted as he walked around a stack of crates so that she could see him. She'd been sitting on the floor, swaying back and forth while she sang, and he wasn't sure if he was mad or amused. "What are yeh doin'?"
Elizabeth looked up at the captain and smiled. "I'm singing a pirate song because I am indeed a pirate and a scallywag," she told him, waving her bottle of rum. "And what are you doing?"
Trying not to laugh, Barbossa answered, "Taking you back to yer cabin."
Elizabeth pouted. "But I like it here. Can't I stay? I have more verses to sing."
"No. You missed dinner, and you should be in yer cabin. Let's go."
Elizabeth didn't fight as Barbossa helped her to her feet. She stumbled up the steps until he grew tired of her jelly legs and picked her up. He carried her all the way back to her cabin, closing the door behind them with his boot.
With half-lidded eyes, Elizabeth looked at Barbossa and giggled. "Does this mean you're joining me?"
Barbossa was surprised that she'd remembered what he'd told her previously in her current state, but it gave him an idea. "I did warn yeh 'bout the next time I carried yeh to bed, didn't I?" He reached the bed and placed her on it, keeping his arms around her. "And I be a man of honor. Yeh wouldn't want me to compromise me honor, now would yeh?"
Elizabeth giggled again and shook her head. "Oh no; honor is very important. You must keep your honor, Captain."
Barbossa knew that he could have taken full advantage of Elizabeth in her drunken state, but he didn't want a union with her to happen like that where she might not even remember it later. He could still join her, though, as he'd told her he would. It would certainly make for an interesting morning.
"Then keep me honor I will," Barbossa said, taking off her boots and getting her settled under the sheets before he took off his own and lay down beside her on top of the sheet. He didn't make a move towards her – just remained still. It was only a few minutes until her breathing grew heavy and his followed suit.
I forgot to tell you all last chapter that I created a Twitter account just for my fanfic - VelvetStormFF. I post updates and chapter teases, and I plan to share some of my favorite fanfic stories, too. Give me a follow & I'll do the same.
Thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter: Preciossa, Bloodsired, BrunetteAuthorette99, Aelly, one guest who didn't leave a name and UbiquitousPitt. I say it every chapter, but feedback is what keeps me going. Let me know what you liked, what you didn't like or ask me questions. Write one line or a paragraph - it's all appreciated!
I wanted to get this chapter posted by Valentine's Day...and I'm EARLY! Woo hoo! Go me!
Oh...and I took a literary liberty...when the curse is lifted from the Flying Dutchman, I decided that there should be women revealed, even if just a couple. There were women pirates back then, so it made sense that there could be a couple on the ship. I didn't see Davy Jones as being the kind to let women off very easily - especially given what Calypso did to him - so even though it's not in the movie, it's in my story. I didn't think you'd mind.