Authoress' Note: Look familiar? It's because it is. :P I was very dissatisfied with my attempt at vignette number 6 "The First True Kiss" and after being convinced by a reviewer on DeviantArt I decided to rewrite this vignette without Will in it. Do not fear! I am keeping the original up so that everyone is satisfied, but just know that I definitely consider this version to be the better one. ;) Thanks for reviewing as always! All characters © Disney
The First True Kiss (Revised)
I ride toward the harbour in a daze, hardly taking in any of my surroundings as emotion after emotion rise up in me and crash into each other before falling back into the pit of despair lying heavily on my heart. First comes fear, followed by anger, then loathing as I look down onto the fort and the docks spread before me.
Storming into the fort, I meet my lieutenants who seem surprised to see me in such a state. Taking off my hat and wig I run a hand through my hair, agitated. They stare as I pace up and down the room attempting to regain composure.
"Have any East India ships made berth here in the last few days?" I ask.
Andrew, who I had not previously noticed, raises a hand to catch my attention.
"There was one docked here a few days ago, but it's been gone for hours now," he says, to which I suppress a cry of exasperation, "but there is a ship flying no colours under the name of Smith. It docked a few days ago and is still here. Could it be of interest?"
I remain silent, unsure of whether I should share my plight with the entire company standing before me.
"Gillette, may I have a word with you?" I ask, signaling for us to be left alone.
As soon as the last red coat disappears, Andrew drops all formalities and rushes to my side.
"Is something wrong, James?"
I nod and begin pacing the room again as I recount the situation for what feels like the hundredth time. When I finish, I look up to see Andrew's brow furrowed in concentration as though he is trying desperately to remember some important detail.
"Smith!" he cries abruptly.
"What?"
"Smith," he says again, his eyes bright with the revelation, "That's the name Jack Sparrow gave last time he was in port. That's his ship without the flags!"
With each word Andrew says everything falls into place. I had been completely wrong earlier thinking that Will Turner had come in on an EITC ship. It would have been uncharacteristic of him to do so. Jack's mantra had always been "once a pirate, always a pirate" and he would never let himself be shackled into their service. There is one detail that doesn't seem to add up though.
"But The Pearl is Jack's ship. Why would he be in port on another ship?" I ask, frustrated by the fact I do not know Jack Sparrow's ulterior motives.
"Everyone would recognise The Pearl, wouldn't they?" Andrew asks fervently, "He wants to be inconspicuous."
I nod in agreement with Andrew's logic. Sometimes it's frightening how well he can think like a pirate.
"Has the ship been searched?"
"I'm a step ahead of you, James. I had a group of sailors check it out this morning before you arrived, and they didn't find anything. There were no cargo or people aboard The Bounty."
Absentmindedly I rub at my temple as a pounding headache threatens. Will must still be here then and possibly Jack as well. I call all the lieutenants and officers back in for more questioning.
"Did anyone see Elizabeth at the docks yesterday?"
Silence greets my question and no one meets my gaze as I look at each individual in the room in turn. Finally, a sailor by the name of Miller raises his hand hesitantly.
"She came in one of your carriages yesterday evening, sir. I saw her whilst on the night watch. She boarded The Bounty and didn't leave til this very morning naught but an hour ago before we was supposed to look over the ship."
My mind works quickly to take this new information in. There is only one place she can be now: home. Wasting no time, I sprint out of the fort and having hardly untethered my horse, I leap on and gallop with a fierce determination west toward the cliffs and home.
--
When I arrive, the carriage and horses have already been stabled. I skid to a halt and tie my horse up at the gate before continuing up the drive. Surprisingly the front door is open and there is no sign of Betsy in sight.
The parlour door is closed and as I move toward it with my hand outstretched I hear the clinking of china and Betsy's cheerful voices saying, "The Master's been out all this morning looking for you, Madame. He'll be ever so relieved to see you've made it back safely."
Elizabeth replies in a softer, muffled voice and I press my ear to the door to hear the conversation better.
"There's so much he doesn't know, Betsy," Elizabeth says in confidence. I can almost see the other young woman leaning in the hopes of catching some of the gossip.
There is an uneasy pause in which I debate within myself as to my course of action. Rashly, I throw open the door with my sword drawn and a look of hatred etched on my face. Shocked, Elizabeth shatters her teacup and spills its contents across her bodice as Betsy backs away muttering something that sounds like, "My word!"
Recovering herself Elizabeth throws down the shards of the cup still in her hands and draws herself up defiantly. "Is this how you would greet your wife," she asks sternly, "with sword drawn as though I were a common criminal?"
I lower my arm but do not sheath my sword just yet. The words that come to my lips are harsh and I am surprised to hear them.
"Why should I not? For all I know you've been playing the part of an adulteress this past night for which the punishment, if you don't know, is a swift hanging."
I follow Betsy with my eyes as she backs out of the room and shuts the door behind her. Elizabeth's lip quivers precariously, and she crosses her arms across her chest as though doing so will somehow make her disappear. Her eyes lose the fiery spark they had held as she challenged me only moments ago, and I cannot help but soften. I did not mean to hurt her. She knows I would die in her place if the situation ever arose.
"William's never coming back you know," she says matter-of-factly, "He told me he'd be leaving with Jack Sparrow this very day."
I do not respond, but instead I sheath my sword and place it aside as a neutral gesture. Calmly, Elizabeth lowers herself into a chair and begins to speak again.
"Two years ago, Will left me with a promise," she says softly, staring at some mark in the empty space before her," He promised that as soon as he found his father, he would come back to me and we could be married."
"I held onto that promise, James, hoping beyond hope that each passing day might bring him home to me. Once I remember him saying we were destined to be together, and somehow I knew it to be true, or at least, I believed it to be true."
"When you proposed to me I initially sited that I was unsure of my feelings and needed time to think things through. In truth, I was waiting for William. Each day I watched the ships come in and prayed he would be on one of them to sweep me away from the trappings of a loveless marriage."
"Months passed, and when I could not put fate off any longer I said yes to you, and you made me your wife. Our first year together I will not recount for you know it just as well as I do. Then, a month ago, everything changed for me. Will reappeared and so did all of the memories and feelings for him that I had long kept buried. I was conflicted between remaining faithful to you and pursuing a two year-old dream."
"After the incident between you and Will I thought my chances with him had been ruined forever. So, when I chanced upon meeting him in town only a few days ago I couldn't say no to seeing him again. We met late last night on The Bounty and talked for hours. When I had realised how much time had passed I knew you would be worried and insisted on going home. Will, however, asked that I stay and he promised to take me back tomorrow."
"Tomorrow turned into today and just as he had promised, Will escorted me back home. Here you've found me just as whole as I'd left you."
She glances up at me and lowers her eyes to her hands, which have knotted themselves together in her lap. I am speechless as I soak in everything she has told me. Awkwardly, I cross my arms and clear my throat before asking the first question on my mind.
"You talked all night? That's it? I mean," I look down at my feet, "last night you didn't. . ."
I trail off, unable to complete what I mean to ask. I do not look at Elizabeth's face as she answers.
"No," she says, her voice rough and defiant. "No, I did not sleep with him."
I nod and find myself slightly relieved. There are many holes in her story, but I feel that I must trust her now or else risk estrangement from her for the rest of our lives together.
Elizabeth opens her mouth to speak, closes it, and then finally decides to say what is on her mind. "I kissed him, James."
"What? Why?"
Her words reverberate in my head loudly, as my heart seems to plummet upward right into my throat.
"I had to know!" Elizabeth cries as she stands up to face me. "I had to know what it would have been like if. . . I had to know if I truly. . . love him."
Fury wells within me and suddenly I feel sick, her unfaithfulness burning me like the hot bile rising in my throat. Running a hand through my hair, I close my eyes to the hot tears forming at their corners. When I open them again I find myself facing Elizabeth's figure, which is turned away from me. She revolves slowly on the spot, and the light catches on the glistening tears streaming down her cheeks.
"James, I lied to you that day," she says, her voice a whisper shaky with emotion. "You asked me if I still love him, and I said yes, but it isn't true."
Elizabeth pauses to take in a shuddering breath and closes her eyes against a fresh wave of tears. My own tears, which I had suppressed for so long, now flow unchecked down my cheeks as she takes a step toward me.
"I kissed him, because I had to know what I was missing, and I found out something I didn't expect."
An unexpected smile plays at the corners of her mouth, and she gulps down another breath to calm herself.
"I don't love William Turner, James. I don't love him anymore."
Three strides and my lips are on hers. I can taste the salt of her tears, but already they are ceasing as she pulls me to her and kisses me back. As I cup her face in my hands and feel her smile against my lips I am, perhaps, the happiest man alive.
Authoress' Note: See, just a teensy bit different. I hope you enjoyed this updated version. Be on the lookout for the next installment as always.