A/N: You know, part of me kind of wants to screw with you guys and have Philip and Syrena ran off together rather than get married.
Birds of a Feather
The Curse of the Black Pearl
Chapter Fifty-One
You Need Only Ask
It was almost three in the morning when Elizabeth was woken by the knock on her door. It wasn't a knock per say but rather a frantic banging. She leapt to her feet, pulled her nightrobe over her sleeping gown, and flung open the door.
Standing in front of her was Philip looking like his very soul had been sucked out of him.
"Can we talk?" he asked flatly. "I've got a bit of a problem."
Elizabeth nodded and stepped aside to let him in. Philip didn't say anything, just walked in with a look of death, threw himself face first onto her bed, and face buried in a pillow, let out an agonising half moan half scream.
With a smirk on her face, Elizabeth crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe, "That bad, huh?"
Philip rolled onto his back, "Have I done something wrong that has made God angry at me?"
"I mean, not to beat a dead horse, but you did break a pirate out of prison, stole a ship, and participated in a Pagan blood ritual."
"In my defense, I actually had no part whatsoever in the Pagan blood ritual. That was all you, Will, and Jack."
"Fair." She walked over and sat on the bed with Philip. Gently in that oh so sisterly comforting way she touched his arm, "What's wrong?"
Philip sighed, "I've messed up, Elizabeth. I've messed up big time."
"I can't imagine anything you've done could possibly be so bad."
"I let Syrena in my bed and we got caught by Uncle and Rosalyn."
Elizabeth stared at him, jaw dropped open, "…Okay, you've messed up big time."
Philip grabbed a pillow and buried his face in it to scream again.
She snatched the pillow away, "What exactly did you mean you let Syrena in your bed?"
So he explained to her the chain of events that had led to him waking Elizabeth up at three in the morning to scream in her pillows. When he finished, he looked ashamed and sought guidance from Elizabeth. She sat and stared at the wall for a while as she digested all of the information thrown at her.
"Ok," Elizabeth said after a long while, "first… you did not need to tell me what you did in your room this afternoon after Syrena worked you up. Gross. I know that I like to act interchangeably with Will in friendship, but I am your sister and there are some lines that need to be drawn."
"Sorry," Philip reddened. "I guess crossing lines is something I've been doing a lot lately."
"Yeah, no kidding." Elizabeth sighed, "So… What exactly is it you expected me to do when you came to my room?"
"I… I don't know. It just felt like the right thing to do to come see you."
"I can't make this choice for you, Philip."
He laid his head on her shoulder, "I know. I just… I needed to talk to you. I'm about to make the biggest decision of my life and it felt wrong for you not to be part of it."
Elizabeth bit her lip as she thought about the one thing she wasn't saying. The second Philip said that Rosalyn had been paid off, she knew exactly where that money was coming from. He had no idea what he had just done to Will and Elizabeth because the truth was, Philip didn't know what was going on. They hadn't approached him about the impending doom hanging over Will because they had been sensitive to his own difficulties upon returning home to Port Royal.
Because the truth was, there were sometimes things that transcended friendship. Sometimes decisions needed to be between only a man and a woman in love.
Resisting the urge to beat Philip senseless with a pillow for ruining Will's chances at buying the shop, Elizabeth leaned her head atop Philip's and stroked his hair.
"It's strange, isn't it?" Elizabeth asked. "How much things have changed with Will and Syrena being here in our lives now."
"What do you mean?"
"Will as more than a friend and Syrena-"
"No, I get that part," he cut her off. "What do you mean things have changed?"
"It's not just us anymore," Elizabeth said. "I always knew at some point you and I would go off with other people and marry and all that. I knew things would change, but experiencing those differences is something I didn't really understand."
"Things don't have to change, Elizabeth."
She tilted his chin up to look at her, "Yes, they do. You will always be my cousin/brother, the first man I ever loved and trusted. And I will always be your wild little sister/cousin to torment and fight for you. But now it's not just a Swan and a Swift. We have a whole flock to consider, and our own nests to go make. Sure, they may be not far from each other, but we have separate lives now."
"What are you saying?" Philip asked. "Should I go live in Swift House?"
Elizabeth's nails suddenly dug into his neck.
"Sorry!" she exclaimed when Philip jerked away and she realized what she had done. Elizabeth couldn't yet tell Philip – because she hadn't cleared it with Will – the plan to maybe rent Swift House to Will.
"Is something going on with you?" Philip asked, rubbing his neck. "You've been so melancholy tonight."
"No." She paused, "Or, maybe yes. I don't know. It's not my secret to tell."
Philip's brow furrowed, "Do I need to be worried?"
"You need to be worried about your own problems foremost." Elizabeth rubbed his back, "I'll tell you later; I just have to clear a few things with Will."
"If you guys are in trouble, you know I'm there for you."
"Let's focus on your own trouble first," Elizabeth said. "What are you going to do about Syrena?"
"I… I don't know."
Elizabeth nodded and they sat in silence for a while as their minds both buzzed with the two futures before them.
"What- What should I do?" Philip asked.
Elizabeth sighed, "I told you; I can't make this choice for you."
"I know, but how do I choose? Either way there's sacrifice and gamble. What if things don't work out?"
And then she knew exactly what to tell him.
"Close your eyes."
"What?"
"Close your eyes," Elizabeth grabbed his hands. She watched as her cousin followed the instructions. "Now take a deep breath. In… and out."
He breathed in… and out.
"Keep your eyes closed," she ordered. "Now I want you to imagine your life in three different ways. First, take a moment and just think about what life looks like if everything works out. You have Syrena at your side and everything you feared, didn't come true. What does that look like?"
Philip focused on the imagine in his mind.
"We're at Swift House, playing on the beach. We're in our forties or fifties. It's hard to tell because Syrena looks as young and beautiful as the day we met… or the second time we met I guess because technically-"
"Focus, Philip."
"Right." His image grew sharper, "I can see three little girls, mermaids. One with my brown hair, one with Syrena's raven locks, and one with Mum's auburn tresses. They're playing with Jack the Monkey. Syrena and I are watching them, holding each other, and smiling. I've shown her the world, everything she's ever wanted to see and everything I've ever wanted to do. You and Will and your five or six children come visit often, joining us on our adventures while Will's shop flourishes."
Elizabeth shoved down the pained feeling in her stomach at that last part.
"Well, I hope you're not betting on this future to become reality because I am not having six children," Elizabeth tried to distract him from noticing her pain. "But tell me, when you think of this future, how does it make you feel?"
"It makes me feel warm. I'm loved and safe and happy and everything in the world is right… I want it, Elizabeth."
"Good. Now, I want you to picture something else. I want you to imagine that – whether it be marriage or leaving your life behind – you and Syrena tried to be together, and it didn't work out. You don't have to tell me, just think about a life where it didn't work out."
He could see himself in his sixties, walking through a market in some small parish somewhere by the coast. People would greet him happily on the street and he would tell them God bless you as they lived their lives around him.
His hands were old and wrinkled, and pain would come whenever he bent his joints. People would whisper whenever he had his back turned. They would whisper the forbidden word Syrena and gossip about the girl who stole his heart and left with it. They would whisper as he turned down matchmaking attempts throughout the years and as he watched with sad eyes the children of William and Elizabeth Turner. And some would say that you could sometimes catch him glancing out to the sea, waiting for something – someone – to come home.
"Now I want you to think about a future where you give up on Syrena without even trying. You don't take the gamble and you go your separate ways. What does that future look like?"
Philip wasn't even sure. His brain couldn't pick just one path. In some futures he married another and had children. In others, he was alone until the day he died. Some he traveled the world. Some he never left Port Royal.
All of them though, included his family looking at him sadly. All of them had him watch the sea. All of them he never forgot the beautiful mermaid that he named and loved.
And all of them were consumed with regret.
"Now, tell me, Philip," Elizabeth said. "Which is the life you can stand? The one where you tried and lost? Or the one where you never tried at all?"
And Philip Swift had his answer.
The maid, Giselle was helping Syrena dress – Rosalyn was off enjoying her morning to sleep in – when the knock came on the door.
"Who is it?" Syrena asked.
"It's Philip," came the reply. "I need to talk to you before we go down to breakfast."
"Give us a few minutes, Master Swift," Giselle called as she finished lacing Syrena's new corset. The new wardrobe had arrived early that morning and Giselle was putting the newest resident in a beautiful blue gown embroidered with pearls and white shells and seahorses. "I need to get Miss Finson decent before she can accept any gentlemen. We're almost done with the gown, but I still need to dress the Mistress' hair and makeup."
"That's alright, Giselle," Syrena said as the bodice was put on her. "Philip has seen me in much less. I'm sure unadorned hair and face won't be such a fright."
Giselle hesitated, but there really wasn't much to do other than agree to the whims of the masters of the house. That was especially true when Philip asked her to leave the room so he and Syrena could be alone for a few minutes.
"Are you sure we won't get in trouble for being alone together?" Syrena asked as Philip closed the door behind him.
"Honestly, at this point I think we've messed up so gravely with the being alone together thing that having a chat in your bedroom is essentially throwing pebbles into a waterfall at this point." Philip grinned as he noticed the ropes that had been tied around the room and the small monkey swinging about them, "Besides, Jack can chaperone."
Jack the Monkey screeched.
Syrena was surprised when Philip greeted her with a kiss on the cheek. She had expected after their little display last night he would make sure a good metre was left between them to leave room for the Holy Spirit. But he seemed as affectionate as ever, if not a little bit nervous.
"You look very handsome today," Syrena admired his form.
Philip had done himself up to look his best. Bath, shave, and in one of his best suits: a grey coat and pant set with embroidery of swifts and a crisp white buttoned shirt a bit less flowy than what he had worn on their adventure. His hair was tied back with his best hair ribbon, his cross hung proudly from his neck, and he carried a long rectangular blue velvet box.
"Thank you," Philip fiddled with his off-white ascot. "You look very beautiful this morning as well."
"My new dresses came in. Do you like it?"
Syrena gave a spin, but her unsturdy legs buckled and she fell forward. Philip instinctively caught her and there they stood, eyes gazing deeply into each other as the heat of anticipation and desire flowed between them.
"You know, it's things like these that are getting us in trouble these days," Philip's breath came out in long pants.
"If you want to stop," that dark sultry veil fell over Syrena's eyes, "then let me go."
It took a beat longer than she expected before he put her back on her feet.
"Come," he led her by the hand to her bed, "have a seat."
For a minute, Syrena thought he might join her, but Philip instead grabbed the chair from her vanity and positioned it in front of the bed.
He set down the box on her bedside table and sat in the chair with a hard thump. His palms were sweaty, Philip realized as Syrena looked at him curiously. For a minute he glanced towards the door, trying to restrain the tremble that threatened to take over his body.
Focus. You can do this.
Philip rubbed his hands against his pant legs and took a deep breath.
Syrena cocked her head to the side, "Philip, what is it?"
"I'm nervous," Philip blurted out.
She chuckled, "Yes, I had figured out that much for myself."
Philip resisted the urge to slap his forehead, "No, that came out wrong. What I meant to say is that I don't think I've ever been so nervous in my life."
"About what?"
"This conversation we're about to have."
"And what conversation is that?"
Philip took a deep breath, "I- I'm sorry Syrena."
She frowned. There was a fear that had lurked in her heart not just all night, but every second since she agreed to come home to Port Royal with him. Had it become too much for him to handle and he was about to call the whole thing between them off?
What would she do? Where would she go? Moreover, without Philip or Barbossa in her life, what was she? Her love for Philip was so dear and vital to her. It felt like her was in her very blood, making her heart beat every second. She knew she was more than the men around her, but now that she had known love – known destiny – how could she go on without him?
"I'm sorry for putting you in the position you were last night," Philip finally said. "I should have known better, and I humiliated you."
"I did not feel humiliated," Syrena said. "Embarrassed perhaps. But not humiliated. Besides, it was I who crawled into bed with you, was it not?"
"I suppose so." Philip took another deep breath, "Syrena, I have to tell you something."
"What is that?"
And then he looked into her eyes. Deep brown eyes shining with love and fear and curiosity. The eyes of the woman he loved.
His mind flooded with memories of their time together. That first moment their eyes met as children. Syrena trying to pull him down into the water to save him from the pirates. Syrena interceding on his behalf when Jack tried to convince Barbossa to murder him as revenge for the oar incident.
That magical scene in her cabin where they first spoke and grew in intimacy. The way they had protected each other from Twigg and Koehler. Trying to rescue her from the cutlery cannons. Using his shirt to cover her up. Carrying her through the battle. Going back to her cabin and falling for her even harder. Protecting her from Twigg and Koehler by laying his entire body over hers.
Naming her. Giving her that moment of love and devotion and promise of so much more when he first uttered the name Syrena.
A hundred more memories fluttered through his mind, but in that moment they all couldn't compare to that moment he chose to accept his love for her.
And in that instant, he realized how foolish he had been to worry over his decision when he had already made it in that moment that he christened her Syrena.
He had given her one name, and now it was time to give her another.
"You are trembling with fear," Syrena's fingers brushed his hands.
"In body only." He enfolded his hand with her and looked into those deep brown eyes. His words were clear and crisp as he told her, "My mind is at peace. Because of you."
"Me?"
"Yes," he smiled. And then he voiced the words he had not been able to admit to himself until that moment. "I was lost. The winds, the tides...they ought to renew a man's faith. But for me, only you."
"Philip," she whispered.
He squeezed her hand, "I love you, Syrena Barbossa. No matter what you are or who you are or what you do, I know that God put me on this Earth to be with you."
"Tell me what is going on. What did your uncle say to you last night?"
Philip reached out and took her other hand in his, "Before I tell you that, I want to tell you a story. The story of how I met my second mother."
Syrena frowned but nodded for him to continue.
"Before I was born, Aunt Kat had lost twelve children through miscarriage and stillborn. The worst was Daniel, who had been born without his lungs developing properly and died several months after the Beckett Incident. To have a son that lived for three months only to die in her arms was something Aunt Katherine never fully got over."
"I cannot even imagine that pain."
His eyes met hers, "I hope it's something we never experience."
Syrena blushed at the blunt reference to having children together, "I am not familiar with mermaid pregnancy – it was not a topic discussed with ten year olds – so I may have to do some research."
He took her hand, "But not too soon. Let's enjoy each other for a while."
She was positive she was even more scarlet than her tail in that moment, "Continue with your story, please."
Philip nodded, "Throughout the years, Aunt Kat tried to come up with some explanation for her fertility problems. Upon comparing the flourishing Skylark family with the flimsy branchless family tree of the Swanns, it wasn't hard for her to assume the problem somehow laid with her husband's… contribution."
Syrena couldn't stop her laugh at the disgusted look on Philip's face.
"Anyways," he shook his head, feeling like somewhere his uncle was laughing at him, "when my mother became pregnant with me, Aunt Kat was convinced that Mum would also experience fertility problems. Throughout the pregnancy, even though by all accounts everything went perfectly, Aunt Kat hung over my mother's shoulder like an Angel of Death. She would constantly talk about how she would be there to support and comfort Mum if she had a miscarriage and what they would do if I was stillborn. It came from a place of love, support, but also grief. While they were young, Mum had been there for Aunt Kat during her stillborns and miscarriages. But then the Beckett Incident happened, and Mum wasn't there for Daniel – the most traumatic by far – and Aunt Kat spent five years having five more stillbirths and miscarriages all without her best friend by her side."
"I can see why that would break a person," Syrena said. "Who could blame a woman for being so morbid during anyone else's pregnancy after that?"
"It's true. It wasn't just Mum she had that constant refrain with, but her sisters-in-law and female cousins. It definitely drew some tension in the family, but my parents were understanding."
"So what happened when you were born?"
"Aunt Kat couldn't believe it. Eleven children she had lost and I just came so easily into the world."
"It must have been hard for her."
"It was easy enough to hide from them all," Philip said. "My grandmother and aunts had come to the house for the birth, so in the flock of Swifts, Aunt Kat just slipped away. Uncle has told me that when he noticed she was gone, he went to find her. She was in the library sobbing. It was a mixture of grief, jealousy, but above all, fear."
"Fear?"
"She was scared to even look at me because she was afraid that she would hate me. It wasn't fair that I was so whole and healthy. It was even worse that she had just found out she was pregnant with Elizabeth, who she was convinced she would lose too. How could she not direct all of the grief and trauma she felt over her situation onto me? I was her best friend's first child and through marriage her own nephew. The last thing in the world she wanted was to hate me."
"But she didn't," Syrena had heard enough stories of Katherine Swann to know the loving relationship she had with her nephew.
"No, she didn't," Philip smiled. "Eventually Uncle Weatherby herded Aunt Kat back into the birthing room where everyone was fawning over me. It was my father who asked Aunt Kat to hold me. Everyone in the room – except Aunt Lucy who has always been a few crystals short of a chandelier – could sense the tension, and if they didn't, it became clear when she took me to hold, but refused to look at me… that is until I reached up and grabbed her necklace. This necklace."
Philip opened the blue velvet box and showed Syrena the well cared for necklace inside. Knowing the fortune of the Swanns and Skylarks, Syrena expected it to be some elaborate confection, so she was surprised by the sight before her. It was the simplest thing: just a sapphire carved into the shape of a heart hanging from a silver chain.
"Grabbing her necklace made her look down at me," Philip explained. "And then our eyes met, and Aunt Kat lost her heart utterly to me. In that moment she knew I wasn't just her nephew, I was to be the son she waited so long for. She wouldn't overstep her bounds with my parents, but it was clear Aunt Kat was so much more than my aunt. I was constantly in her arms, even when I grew too large to carry around. She would rock me to sleep, or I would cuddle in her lap as she read stories to me, or she would hug and hold me and make sure I knew I was loved. And there was nothing I loved more than to play with this necklace."
Lovingly, Philip stroked a finger across the chain. Tears gathered in his eyes as he thought of the woman who was so much more mother to him than Rebecca Swann had ever been.
"When she died," Philip's voice hitched, "she left the necklace to me. It came with simple instructions: give it to the woman I choose to be the mother of my children so they can play with it the way I would."
Syrena gasped as Philip offered the necklace to her, "No! Philip, I cannot!"
"You can, At least…" he swallowed, "I hope you can."
She pushed his hand away to set the necklace back on the bedside table, "Philip, what is going on?"
Philip took a deep breath, "Syrena, I'm sorry to do this to you. I want you to know that I've been thinking of this anyway but for down the road. I wish I didn't have to rush, but know that my feelings are true."
"What is going on?" she repeated calmly.
"My uncle has given me an ultimatum. We have three choices on how to deal with what happened last night."
She nodded, having expected as much, "Alright. What are the choices?"
"First, I send you away and we forget any of this ever happened."
Her breath caught.
"I told him absolutely not," Philip assured her. "You are a part of my life now and I couldn't leave you if I tried."
She smiled, "And believe me, I tried."
The warmth of her smile was infectious, "Option two: we depart Port Royal together and leave my life behind."
"Philip, I couldn't ask you to do that."
"I know… that's why I want to go with the third option, if that's what you'll consent to."
She eyed him warily, "And what is the third option?"
Philip took a deep breath. He grabbed her left hand and got down on one knee.
"Syrena Barbossa, will you marry me?"
Silence.
Unexpected silence.
Silence.
Unending silence.
"…Oh."
Philip's heart dropped, "Uh, yeah. That's – um – the third choice. We get married…either today or tomorrow. It all depends on Pastor Thomas."
"I see."
Silence.
This was so much more painful than Philip expected.
"So you want to go with this third option, then?" Syrena asked.
Philip cleared his throat, "I mean if you want to. I would like to stay here in Port Royal, but if you want to leave-"
"No, I want you to keep the life you've had, but, um that's the whole reason you want to marry?"
He took a deep breath, "Look, this isn't what I planned. I've been thinking a lot about our future lately and I know I want to spend my life with you. I want marriage and children and to be with you forever. …That said, I hadn't wanted the marriage part so soon."
"I see."
Silence… again.
Syrena thought hard about the proposal. Barbossa had been right that Philip was the first real man that she met, but that didn't mean it wasn't true love. She knew that Philip was her forever partner, even if mermaids weren't supposed to have them. But could she marry him?
Yes.
The answer came so suddenly to her. It probably wasn't fair to Philip, but her thoughts of the importance of marriage was that she held little regard for it. It was just pomp and ceremony for the promise she had already made to dedicate herself to Philip forever. She had already made that decision when she chose to follow Philip home.
Wasn't it right? Wasn't it an easy answer? True, they hadn't known each other that long, but the time that they had had had been enough. She loved him and he loved her. They had proven it with words and names and gifts of breathing underwater. What more did they need?
Slowly, she nodded, "Alright, I'll do it."
Philip regarded her warily, "Uh… what?"
"I'll marry you."
He just stared at her.
"Really?" he asked incredulously. "Just that easy? Yes, you'll marry me."
"Yes."
"You do understand what marriage entails, right?"
She raised an eyebrow, "Yes, I am familiar with the concept, Philip. I'm ready to marry you."
"Oh."
Syrena looked at him, "But you're not ready to marry me."
He looked up at her guiltily, "N-no."
She slipped her left hand out of his, "I see."
"It's not like that. I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I'm just… I'm scared in the same way that Aunt Kat was of me. What if this rush into marriage, this forcing makes me resent you?"
"Would it?"
"I don't think so. But I-"
She lifted his chin, "Look me in the eye."
"What?"
"Look me in the eye the way she looked you in the eye," Syrena commanded. "Please, Philip. Just look at me."
Then hazel met green and like his aunt, all of that fear melted away. This was the woman he was meant to spend his life with. Why was he afraid to start living it together?
He wouldn't hate her. He would love her; draw her close. Someday maybe even thank his uncle for bringing them together so soon. Then they could spend even more time together.
She loved him and he loved her. There was no denying that fact and nothing they couldn't overcome.
"Philip," Syrena put a hand against his cheek and bowed her head to his. "I can marry you. You need only ask."
He looked deep in those hazel eyes and found his choice already made, "I seek but one thing."
She stroked his cheek, "What is that?"
"Forgiveness."
A smile slowly lifted the corner of her lips. How lucky was she to have this perfect man?
Philip continued, "If not for me, you'd have never been compromised and forced into this situation."
She ghosted her lips over his, "Ask."
"Forgive me."
And she answered him without words.