A/N: Split up chapters again because I wanted to show the wedding "reception" but the wedding night itself is super plot heavy and meaty (no pun intended.) So, enjoy the reception chapter.
Side note, I basically listened to Starving by Hailee Steinfield on repeat while writing the Philip/Syrena parts for this chapter. Give it a listen. Also the song I picture Syrena and Philip "dancing to" would be Right Here, Right Now by Maddie & Tae.
Birds of a Feather
The Curse of the Black Pearl
Chapter Fifty-Five
A Simple Dinner Party
From the desk of Philip Nathaniel Swift
Saturday, March 14, 1739
Dearest Nan,
No doubt by now you have received the letter from Uncle Weatherby detailing the kidnapping of Elizabeth and my plans with Will Turner to rescue her. I want to assure you that as dimwitted the plan was, it proved to be a success and all three of us have safely returned. In fact, this adventure ended up bringing Will and Elizabeth together and Uncle Weatherby has consented to their eventual marriage.
Additionally, this misadventure has brought another development into our lives: a development by the name of Miss Syrena Finson.
Syrena was also kidnapped by the pirates who took Elizabeth. Unfortunately, her family was killed in the attempt, and she has no one to go back to. Therefore, Uncle Weatherby offered to bring her home with us and offer support until she figured out what to do.
Miss Finson is unlike any woman I have ever met before. She is kind, loving, brave, confident, beautiful, and charming. She is Different. (Not to mention the way she can quote the Bible.) By the praise I have heaped upon her, it will come as no surprise to you that I have fallen for this young lady. Over the past month we have grown together and developed a deep love and affection. Considering how fast we Swifts usually come together with our partners, I imagine it will be no surprise to you how serious things have become.
And thus, I write to you tonight to confess a development that may surprise you: I have married Syrena Finson today.
I know that this will come as a shock, and I do apologize that you and the Aunts could not be present. However, considering the circumstances of Syrena's life, it made sense that we marry quickly. I have not compromised her virtue or gone against God, but rather answered his call. Syrena Finson is the partner Lord God has chosen for my life, and with her lack of family and the intensity of our relationship, I decided to step up and take her into my charge as wife.
As hard as it will be for you to understand, I truly love this woman. I hope to prove it to you someday soon. You will like her for a granddaughter: she's just as much a spitfire as Mum.
Give Aunts Isabel, Ada, and Lucy my love, and hugs and kisses to my little cousins. Bella, Adeline, and Natalie must be so grown up since the last time I saw them.
Your loving grandson,
Philip
P.S. Please do not come cross the Atlantic Ocean to murder me. I assure you that you shall have all the time to yell at me when I come visit during my ordination exams. By the way, those have been postponed to September… or maybe later. I'll update you the results of my investigation by the Church of England when I have them.
Love you, Nan!
"Do you really think she would come from across the Atlantic to chastise you?"
Philip looked up from the letter to see Syrena watching him curiously. They were waiting in Philip's office for the wedding announcement to be made at dinner before they had their grand entrance.
"Nan?" Philip chuckled as he melted a stick of wax over a candle and dabbed it on the envelope. "No. She likes to complain, but she wouldn't put that much effort into it. Not especially when she could then complain about you expecting her to put the effort in. Oh, I can hear her now. Do you really think these old bones would risk disease and pain upon foul, rat infested ships just to put some sense into my grandson's head? Isn't that what that uncle of yours is supposed to take care of? Those uncles of yours, useless the lot of them. At least Tristan has never thought to pretend he's respectable."
"Such Scallywags, are they?" Syrena teased.
"No, they are all excellent uncles in their own way," Philip stamped the envelope with his seal: a swift over a cross. Elizabeth had teased him for three months after settling on the design. "I really do cherish each of my three uncles in their own way. Nan however doesn't agree with that notion."
"Does she truly hate them?"
"No. Uncle Tristan has been a menace to society from the day he was born, and considering how he and Aunt Ada grew up together, no one was surprised when they became a couple. Because Nan's always known how Uncle Tristan is, she's never had higher expectations for him to meet. As for the others… She's just always not particularly liked Aunt Lucy's husband – but we do not have the time in the world to get into that tonight – and she's always been jealous that Uncle Weatherby was asked to raise me over her. She's always said that at least she's had a proven 50% proper citizen success rate of her children."
"What does Uncle Weatherby think of that?"
"He's always quick to point out that so has he and I was the success. I'm not entirely sure if I agree with that 50% success rate. True, Aunt Isobel is an outstanding citizen, and Dad and Aunt Ada have always been a handful, but Aunt Lucy… well, she's never been the sharpest tool in the shed. Still, I suppose she married well, and she is a good mother from what I can recall… It's been so long since I've seen my Swift family."
Syrena came up behind him and rubbed his shoulders, "I'm sure you'll see them soon."
"Aunt Ada probably pretty soon. She would cross the Atlantic to come yell at me, and last I heard, she and Uncle Tristan were in Mexico." Philip groaned at the excellent massage, "Oh, that spot right there."
"You like it?" Syrena purred in his ear.
"You are so good at this," Philip moaned, losing himself to the pleasure of fingers kneading into tight knots.
"I used to give Father shoulder rubs when he was particularly tense."
"Did you?"
"Yes. Although, I did not do things like this," she bent her head down and pressed feathery light kisses along the side of his neck.
Instinct took over, and Philip reached out and grabbed her head. He pulled her in tighter to his neck and Syrena's kisses became appropriately more ravenous. Philip's eyes slipped shut as he lost himself to sensation: fingers massaging his back and lips tasting his neck.
It was wrong.
No.It was right.
This was his wife. His wife's lips on his neck and fingers on his skin. This is how a man and woman joined together in unity before God were supposed to touch and worship each other.
Awake, O north wind; and come, thou south; blow upon my garden, that the spices thereof may flow out. Let my beloved come into his garden, and eat his pleasant fruits.
Then why did it still feel wrong for her to touch him so intimately?
"We should stop," Philip moaned. His breath hitched as her teeth grazed a particular spot he never knew could drive him wild. "They'll be here any moment to take us to dinner."
Syrena let out a disappointed moan.
"I know," he chuckled, stroking her hair. He felt a twist inside his chest as he felt both the urge to run his fingers his fingers through her hair to unpin it into a beautiful dark halo beneath him, but also a pull back from what he would do next.
He wanted her, that wasn't a fact in doubt. But still… something sat oddly inside of him.
Draw boundaries, allow yourself to slip up, go up to the line but not past.
"Philip?" Syrena looked oddly at him. "Are you feeling alright?"
"I, uh," Philip's thoughts swarmed in front of his eyes like a jumbled mess, "I'm just still trying to get my head straight about everything."
"You are not… You are not regretting what we have done, are you? Because if you are-"
He took her hand, "Not for a moment. I just… I need to adjust to the thought of having a wife."
Syrena smiled, "I suppose it was rather sudden."
"Do you need time to adjust to me becoming your husband?"
"No. You took that role in my heart the moment you carried me that first time. I knew from that moment on I would go anywhere you asked."
"And look at you now," Philip grinned. "Not just a nameless creature but a friend, a niece, a sister, and a wife."
"A wife with five names now," she rested her head on his shoulder. "You have given me more than I could ever imagine."
"In all fairness I only gave you two of those names. Barbossa gave you Barbossa, Elizabeth gave you the idiotic name Finson, and you gave yourself Ratel."
"But you gave me the ones that matter; the ones I will be known as for the rest of my life: Syrena Swift."
"Do you like it?"
"It is what it is," Syrena teased.
Philip laughed. He rested his head against hers and reached up and took her hand in his.
"So… you're my wife," he said.
She smiled, "And you are my husband."
"We really did it. We got married."
"It is not too late to back out if-"
"No, don't even think it," Philip told his wife. "I'm happy we did this. I'm terrified but I'm happy."
"A pretty good summary of our relationship so far," Syrena chuckled. "You promise you don't regret this?"
He lifted up her chin, "My only regret is that I have yet to kiss my bride."
Philip leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. Syrena melted into his touch, eyes fluttering shut. Love and passion, gentleness and promise. It was Syrena's favorite kiss for far: simple but a promise of a beginning of a thousand soft touches to come.
Husband. She had a husband.
She was the strangest mermaid to ever have existed. If her Sisterhood had cast her out for saving a male, what would they think of her for marrying one? And yet, they were vaults of knowledge she didn't have. She worried that one day she would need them.
Philip slowly pulled back from the kiss, "How was that?"
Syrena ghosted a finger over his lips, "Absolutely wonderful."
"Good," he smiled.
That moment, a knock came at the door and Rosalyn poked her head in.
"Master and Missus Swift?" Rosalyn asked timidly.
Philip couldn't help the satisfied smile of pride on his face when Syrena preened at the term "Missus Swift."
"It's time," Rosalyn informed. "The guests are all here."
"Well then," Philip offered his arm to his bride, "let's go give the town something to talk about."
The guests were mingling in the receiving hall outside of the dining room. There were about thirty families of people friendly or at least sympathetic to Philip Swift. It was a mix of the upper and lower class, so none of the guests who hadn't been at the church could quite figure out what was going on.
"Philip holding the dinner?" Groves asked Elizabeth, who had been chatting with Will.
"Why would you say that?" Elizabeth inquired.
Groves just gestured at the guests around them.
"I suppose he is the only one who could get away with mixing a dinner like this," Elizabeth admitted.
"And for such late notice," Groves said. "The invitation said that this is to celebrate Miss Syrena, but I have a hunch that there may be ulterior motives."
"What might those be?"
"You tell me, Miss Swann."
She smiled but shrugged. Elizabeth quite liked the little game they were playing with the confused guests.
"We're glad you could come," Will said. "You have any problems with getting someone to watch Joshua?"
Groves sighed, "It depends on what you mean problems."
Will and Elizabeth just looked at him in confusion.
"My… My mother and father are watching him," Groves explained. "But you know how Ma's mind is starting to slip."
"What happened this time?" Elizabeth asked.
Will nudged her and shook his head.
"It's okay," Groves said. "She asked me where Fanny was and why the girl was taking so long to get ready. We had to remind her that Fanny had gone to heaven a while back."
"I'm sorry," Elizabeth patted his arm. "I can't imagine what going through something like that might be."
"We all have our tragedies. Speaking of, Turner have you managed to-"
"No," Will didn't need Groves to finish the thought to know he was asking about the shop. "And it doesn't seem like I will be able to."
"I'm sorry to hear that. You know, I do have some connections in Trinidad if you were looking for a new situation."
"I appreciate it," Will said, his voice stiff but sincere.
Groves sensed the shift in mood and took his leave.
"I hate hearing you talk about taking a new situation," Elizabeth said. "You know Father suggested to me this morning that we might ask Uncle Simon to take you in for a while in Antigua."
Will sighed, "I don't like talking about it either, but there's really no way around it. We've exhausted every resource we can think of."
"Stupid timeline. You know, we could easily make the money and more in a few months if we started taking bets from all the people who are going to be convinced this marriage is because Syrena is with child."
A silent beat passed.
"You know…" Will said thoughtfully as Elizabeth's word hung in the air, "having money still wouldn't hurt."
"You take the bets from the lower class and I do the upper class?"
"Deal."
"Excuse me, Ladies and Gentlemen," Weatherby Swann called the room to attention. "Thank you all for coming on such short notice. These past few months have been an absolute whirlwind in the lives of myself and my children. You have all been very supportive through all of our trials and we thank you for that."
Judgemental eyes set on the Gillettes for a moment, who had been the absolute opposite of helpful.
"Tonight, I have to make an announcement and I hope you will all celebrate this development with us," Weatherby continued. "As your invitations said, this dinner is to welcome Miss Syrena Finson into my home. I must admit there has been a bit of duplicity in that wording. Miss Finson and my nephew, Mister Philip Swift had taken a strong liking to each other. Miss Finson has been happily welcomed by my family for her kindness, caring, and candor. So, it is with great pleasure that I announce to you all that the wording on the invitations were metaphorical as well as literal. We welcome Miss Syrena Finson tonight into my home now forever more as Missus Syrena Swift. Philip and Syrena wed earlier this evening. Please join me in congratulating our bride and groom."
Scattered applause filled the room as Philip and Syrena in the undeniable garb of bride and groom entered. Everyone who had not been at the church just stared in stunned silence.
"Huh," Elizabeth said, folding her arms. "Syrena was right about the Gillettes after all."
Dinner was mostly silent, or rather it sang with a chorus of hushed whispers. The conspiracies had already begun. Speculation on Syrena's figure and weight ran rampant. When they brought out the wedding cake – a surprise apple rum cake arranged by Philip for Syrena – the happiness the bride expressed over the apples was instantly taken in as a pregnancy craving.
Not that Will and Elizabeth were complaining. They barely needed to make the effort and they had already taken half a dozen bets on Philip's alleged impending fatherhood (whether the baby would be Philip's or one of the pirates who kidnapped Syrena was another topic of conversation altogether.)
After dinner, the guests were led into the ballroom for dancing and other such socializing. At first it seemed like getting the awkward guests to dance would be like herding cats. However, Norrington and Groves came to the rescue, asking Rachel and Hannah respectively to the dance floor. They were followed by Elizabeth and Weatherby, then shortly Anne and Thomas and a handful of other couples.
"Would you like to join me?" Philip offered his hand to Syrena as the first song came to an end.
"Oh, no, I could not," she looked down shyly.
He laughed, "Of course you can. It's your wedding."
"But I do not know how."
"Then I will teach you. Come."
Syrena followed obediently.
The dancers gave their bows to each other as the song came to an end. They then saw the bride and the groom head to the dancefloor and the guests withdrew.
"They're all going to stare," Syrena whispered to her husband, Just the thought of that word seemed to quell something in her stomach, but not entirely.
"Let them," Philip smiled. "In this moment, it's just you and me."
She took a deep breath and nodded.
The music swelled with the first notes of some strange symphony. Syrena had never actually heard instruments played before. It was beautiful, and she didn't need anyone to tell her that it was a song of love. She could feel it in her heart the way the music danced around like a bird in flight.
Philip led her the best he could. He kept the steps simple, a little bit of left and right then back and forth. He expected her to be graceful as her natural air was, but in fact she was a clumsy dancer. She tripped over his feet, and when he tried to spin her around, somehow they would always end up twisted in some complicated sailor's knot.
The titters filled the room, and that just made Syrena even more aware of her bad dancing. She tried to take a deep breath and right herself. But when she looked to Philip for comfort, his head was turned, flashing an awkward smile of reassurance to the guests around them.
But she did catch the understanding eyes of Will Turner. He belonged as little in that world as she did.
Syrena was thankful when the song came to an end. The room filled with a pitying applause as Philip and Syrena made their bows. Elizabeth almost immediately zipped forward to take Philip up in another dance. Awkwardly, Syrena nodded and pardoned herself to the edge of the dancefloor where she found a lonely chair.
Weatherby Swann noticed her alone but was soon distracted by the invitation to dance from another guest – a rather wealthy widow that had been after him for a while. Soon enough, the bride was left forgotten at the edge of the dancefloor.
Forgotten, except for the best man.
"Mind if I join you?" Will pulled up a chair next to Syrena.
She smiled half-heartedly and nodded. He sat down beside her and they watched the dancers glid around the room.
"They are good at dancing," Syrena's eyes were locked on Philip and Elizabeth expertly whirling around the floor.
Will shrugged, "They've had a lot of practice. You'll have more than enough soon, I wager."
"As will you," she looked to him. "Do you dance?"
"Not without a blade."
She chuckled.
"Well, if your dancing footwork is half as good as your fencing footwork, Elizabeth won't know what hit her."
Will smiled and watched his love glide across the floor. Philip had said something to make her break into that beautiful laugh. Will only wished it was he who so expertly spun her around.
"Do you think," Syrena was afraid to ask her question, "that we will ever fit into this world of theirs?"
Will watched the flutter of fabric, the hisses of gossip, the monotonous strings of the musicians.
"No," he answered honestly. His eyes fixed on Philip and Elizabeth, "But they don't either, no matter how hard they try."
"Still," Syrena sighed, "we will try… for them."
Will nodded, "For them."
They chatted throughout the rest of the song and on through the next. Philip and Elizabeth were rather popular figures amongst the guests, and their significant others were so easily swept off into the corner and forgotten.
"They will never accept us, will they?" Syrena asked as yet more guests whispered and pointed.
"No," Will said, "I don't think they will."
"It is strange. I both care deeply about that and yet… not at all."
"I think it's okay to like being yourself. Why change for people that don't matter in the grand scheme of your life?"
"I have spent so much of my life trying to be things I am not. It is exhausting."
Will nodded, "I've spent the last several years fighting that too. Pretending that I didn't love Elizabeth. Pretending I wasn't as close to Philip so that I didn't hold him back in society – not that I particularly succeeded in that particular area. Pretending that my work wasn't my own. My feelings weren't my own. My heart wasn't my own."
"Then let us not change," Syrena proposed. "Philip, Elizabeth, and my new Uncle like us for exactly who we are. Differing from that course would only lead to troubles. Besides, I like Will Turner for who he is."
He grinned and leaned in close, "And I like Syrena Barbossa for who she is."
"Syrena Swift," she corrected.
Will laughed, "Alright, Syrena Swift."
The music came to an end and the dancers made their bows. As everyone turned to find their next partner, Will looked to Syrena. An idea sparked in his mind.
"Do you want to dance with me?" he asked.
She looked at him oddly, "I cannot. You saw that I cannot dance."
"I don't know how to do it either. Why don't we just have some fun?"
"But I don't know the steps."
"We'll make our own." He stood and offered his hand. "Please?"
Syrena smiled and took his hand, "It would be my honour."
They took to the dancefloor to the apprehension of the other dancers. But they caught the smiles of Philip and Elizabeth who stood to the side ready to watch.
The band started up some lively music. From the movements of the dancers, it was clear there was some set choreography as they all moved in harmony, spinning and bowing and trading partners.
But the bride and the best man kept to their little corner of the dancefloor. They hopped around with an inelegant grace, determining their own steps. Will and Syrena sauntered to and froth, side to side, back and forth, and much closer than a unmarried man probably should be to a bride. But they didn't care. The ballroom was filled with their laughter as they spun each other wildly and madly, fast and as far as their arms could reach. They made their own dance that same way they did through life.
When the music ended, Philip and Elizabeth applauded wildly. They ducked into the dancefloor to take their respective love as their partner for the next dance. Philip and Elizabeth danced as wildly with Syrena and Will as bride and best man had with each other.
At first, their impropriety was frowned upon by the audience. But after seeing the pure joy on the faces of the couples, and a few excuses of it's the bride's wedding day soon enough their friends were cheering them on. Syrena even managed to pull Weatherby in as her next partner, but as they danced, he insisted upon trying to teach her the proper steps.
There was just too much joy in the air for anything to bring Syrena down.
"I must sit," Syrena insisted at the end of the dance with her new Uncle. "My legs… it is a bit too much."
"Of course, My Dear," Weatherby escorted her to a small table with chairs set at the side. Philip and Will were already seated at it, each enjoying an ale – the only one Philip would allow himself that night.
Elizabeth seemed to have swooped down on them from absolutely nowhere. She clutched a bottle and a glass in her hands and a Chesire grin on her face.
"Swift family tradition," Elizabeth set the glassware down with gusto. He looked to Philip, "You didn't think I would let her get away with missing it, did you?"
He glared at her, "I hoped considering you had no Swift in you that you would."
"It's torturing Syrena," Elizabeth plopped down in the last free chair. "Of course I wouldn't miss this opportunity."
"Philip, what is going on?" Syrena asked nervously.
He laughed but it didn't match his face, "Blame my grandfather."
"For what?"
"What's about to happen." He picked up the glass and poured her a drink of amber liquid. "When my grandfather was on his death bed, only one of his children was married – Aunt Ada. Isobel was never going to marry, but Grandfather Danny knew that someday Dad and Aunt Lucy would find partners. He told Aunt Isobel that they would know that their partners would have his consent if the partner could handle a glass of great great grandfather's secret whiskey recipe.
"Wait," Syrena remembered having a similar conversation on Saint Albinus, "you were serious about that?"
"Yep," Elizabeth pushed the glass towards Syrena. "Drink up, Missus Swift."
"Are we sure this is wise?" Weatherby looked at his nephew. "Remember when your Aunt Lucy was getting married and Isobel made-"
"Uncle drink it?" Philip said. "And then he spent the rest of the day being sick?"
"Philip?" Syrena whimpered. "Do you really want me to drink this?"
He sighed, "You don't have to if you don't want to. Just know that the Swifts will never let you live it down."
Syrena sighed and picked up the glass, "Well, I do not wish to disappoint my new family."
Philip grabbed her hand, "No, you really don't have to do this."
She smiled, "I want to. Promise."
He hesitated, "Alright, your funeral."
"You want to give it a try?" Elizabeth winked at Will.
"You're not a Swift," he said dead seriously. "I don't have to do anything with that wood varnish."
She pouted, "You're no fun."
"Sorry to break your heart."
Syrena looked around at her new family. She raised the glass in a cheers and took a drink.
She immediately spat it out and exclaimed a word that she definitely learned from Barbossa.
"Everything is alright," Weatherby announced to all the eyes that had turned on them in shock at the exclamation. "Just a little accident. Stubbed a toe. Apologies."
Weatherby whipped around and glared at his children. Philip had his handkerchief out and was dabbing at his whiskey-soaked bride.
"Now really," Weatherby chastised.
"Uncle, my apologies," Philip put up his hand. "I will put away the liquor."
"No!" Syrena grabbed the bottle. She coughed but pushed ahead from the pain. "I want to do this."
"Syrena, it's really not that important," Philip said.
"It is to me." Syrena poured herself another drink. "Besides… what would my father think if I couldn't hold my liquor."
She picked up the glass and stared it down like an enemy.
"I can't watch this," Elizabeth ducked her face into Will's shoulder.
Syrena steeled herself, drank, winced horribly, fought the urge to spit out the burning amber in her mouth, and forced it down her throat. She gasped loudly and slammed the glass down.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," Will grinned, "I give you Missus Syrena Swift."
The later the party got, the more the drunken antics started. Philip and Syrena refrained from alcohol for the most part, but everyone else seemed to take the occasion to let lose.
When it came to the garter toss, Syrena absolutely refused to let anyone take off her stockings and throw them into a drunken crowd.
"There are many customs I will accept from you humans," Syrena said, "but this is not one of them."
After some back and forth between Syrena and Elizabeth – who was absolutely determined to see the tradition through because she quote needed the luck of catching the garter to get married next – the bride and maid of honour settled on a compromise. Syrena suggested the bizarre idea of instead throwing her bouquet and whoever caught that would be the next to get married.
Of course, just to spite Elizabeth, Syrena intentionally threw the bouquet as far and hard away from the maid of honour. Instead, it hit Theodore Groves in the face and landed neatly in his arms.
The revelry continued, and respectable people like the Gillettes left much earlier on. But soon as the more alcohol flowed, the more the party started to wind down. Guests were piled into their carriages to sleep it off at home. It was unlikely that news would get out of the marriage before church the next morning considering that most of the guests would be fighting hangovers in the morning. Philip started to suspect that had been his uncle's plan and why such large amounts of alcohol had flowed so freely.
How Pastor Thomas was going to conduct service the next morning was a problem that no one felt like coming up with an answer for.
Will had been given a room in the Manor to stay in overnight and after one too many ales decided that it was time to turn in. When Elizabeth offered to show him to his room, Weatherby Swann made sure she stayed within the ballroom in his line of sight until she went to bed. He personally escorted her to her room when it was time for bed. Before he left, he reminded her that the rooms Will had been given were directly outside of his own and that the walls were rather thin, so he could hear if anyone came or went.
Elizabeth pouted, but got the message.
One by one, the guests emptied out of the ballroom until there were just two figures left swaying on the dancefloor.
Finally, the moment seemed right.
"Come, Philip," Syrena whispered as they danced closely to the final song of the night. "Let us go to bed."
He nodded, and together, they went.
For everyone else it was the end of the evening, but for them, the night was only about to begin.
A/N: Wedding night chapter next chapter! Looking very forward to the next one.
Hey all, I feel a little awkward doing this, but I do want to remind you all to comment and review. I thrive on feedback and the more I get, the more eager I am to update. The more eager I am to update, and the faster updates come. Things have been getting a little silent lately which sucks because I've been trying really hard to put a lot of effort into the story. Just let me know what you like about the chapter or don't like. Maybe let me know who your favorite friendship pairing of the birds (Philip and Will, Will and Syrena, Syrena and Elizabeth, or Elizabeth and Philip) are so far.
Hope to hear from you!