Although the nauseating sensation returned once she boarded back onto The Dauntless, she eventually discovered that laying down proved to be the most effective solution to her discomfort. Thus, Elizabeth decided to spent the rest of her travel comfortably resting inside his personal quarters. Avoiding the deck, and entertaining herself in whatever way she could.
While laying on the bed, her fingers continuously ran light patterns over her stomach. She waited patiently, almost feeling caught in a daze as the light, slightly cold breeze coming in from the open windows caressed her cheeks.
The sensation had been mystifying, and the hope that the unfamiliar fluttering she had sensed on the base of her stomach earlier that morning might return, managed to capture all her focus. The existence of the child inside her had become so real in that one moment that she needed to feel it again. And the mere thought that her baby was beginning to rouse inside her, left Elizabeth completely mesmerized.
Even so, it appeared that her little flutter would not cooperate with her that day.
Her eyes wandered to the ball of yarn laying in a mess next to her. The faintest feeling of regret crossed her mind as she remembered all the times she made every possible effort to escape the knitting lessons of her Governess.
Having already placed enough orders so that she would not have to worry about having to dress her child with the same clothes more than a few times, Elizabeth knew her attempt was not imperative. However, the thought of being able to gift her baby with something that she had made herself had wedged in her heart, and would not let her be.
Grabbing the small tangle of thread that was meant to be a tiny boot, she dangled it over her face with a resigned grimace. It was uneven and crooked, and it was taking her an embarrassingly long amount of time to complete. Even the gracious James had struggled to find the words to praise her work honestly. In spite of everything, the image of the little feet that it would protect was enough to keep her spirit invested on the task.
She continued fumbling with the needles and the yarn as best as she could, until the moment the knob turned and the figure of her husband walking inside attracted her attention.
James had barely stepped foot inside the room before he began roughly yanking off his coat. The thick stack of documents under his arms was promptly relegated to the table as his body landed heavily on the chair; his hat and wig received a minimally better treatment as they landed next to them.
His uncommonly unrefined movements, and the frustration reflected on his expression, made the results of his search clear without her having to inquire about it. And while she was able to understand the origin of his uncharacteristic aggression and the reason why it had him in such a dreadful disposition, she rather wait for his mood to quiet into something more agreeable before attempting to engage him.
The impatient orders and unusually brusque tone were so unlike his normal tempered voice and polite, dignified demeanour that Elizabeth thought it would be difficult for most of his men not to have already noticed how aggravated their Captain truly was. Poor officer Groves had been scurrying about on deck since they left Saint Vincent, trying his utmost to carry out James' frankly unreasonable demands as best as he possibly could.
Even she had been finding it increasingly difficulty to maintain his temper subdued.
Her nauseous episodes had forced her to stay confined to the cabin, and they had fought an upsetting amount of times while they were on Saint Vincent.
Already aware that the culprits had fled the island long before they made berth, the search should not have lasted for as long as it did. Yet, James was unable to immediately accept that they group had left no trace behind. Hours of inspecting the town and the part of the jungle where the fire had originated had yielded no rewards.
Meanwhile, Scarfield devoted himself to be as useless as he possibly could. He had continued antagonizing her at every change he found. And his vicious, condescending remarks after every encounter where she had been forced near the Lieutenant while away from James, had left her wanting to rearrange the position of his nose.
The only thing that stopped her from acting on her desire was seeing her husband's already disrupted humour.
With that in mind, instead of attempting to speak to him and risk aggravating each other again, she rolled onto her side and stared at his familiar profile, quietly observing as he took hold of the mistreated documents once more with a curious but unsurprised frown.
It was a little worrying for her to see him remain engrossed on the charts that he'd had attached to his hands for days, then watch him unfold a large map and study it with concentration. Elizabeth herself was very familiar with that particular map. It was the same one he'd been working on for months, and there were so, so many marks and notations written on it now that it had become quite difficult to read.
While reports of merchant ships being attacked had diminished considerably, they had started to be replaced with the reports of the raids on the garrisons of the smaller islands, and those continued to pile over on his desk.
She tried to help him on numerous occasions, but had found little success in deciphering a proper pattern to the various routes crossing on it.
Minutes passed as she watched him work diligently, up until the moment his hands fisted the edges of the parchment and he growled a low curse.
"The attacks on the ships have been erratic so far," she heard him mutter with irritation, "destroying them but neglecting to take the cargo... not leaving any survivors to tell the tale... It's wild and purposeless."
Her eyebrows met after catching the way his lips formed a tense line.
The sight encouraged her to finally speak. "How long are you planning to neglect me?"
His shoulder jolted slightly as his back straightened when he turned to look in her direction. The stress marginally easing off his features once their gazes met.
"I will have you know you are making me quite jealous of that worn piece of parchment." she continued, offering him a sweet smile to let him know she was merely jesting.
He tried to return her gesture, but it was a sad imitation of his real one.
"This is entirely ridiculous." he complained, slight dejection on his voice as he rubbed his temple harshly before his eyes wandered back to the numerous documents spread in front of him. "The assaults at sea were pure savagery and did not exclusively target merchant ships... and the cargo... Just mindless."
Her lips twisted in frustration when she realized that he was no longer talking to her. She merely let a tired exhale leave her mouth as her face lowered to rest on her palm, once again resuming her staring of him while he worked earnestly.
"Yet now the raids on land seem to be significantly more planned and exclusively focused on British colonies?"
The implication he had just made put her on alert, making her sit up so she could look at him properly.
"You are thinking they could be the same ones responsible for the destruction of the ships?"
Her voice was full of confusion as she spoke, and she couldn't hide the baffled frown on her face.
Her intervention forced James to return his attention to her once more, looking almost as disconcerted by her question as she felt her by his words.
"The attacks on land are completely different from the ones at sea, James."
His frown deepened. "Surely there can't be two separate crews of pirates capable of causing such complete havoc while perfectly avoiding capture." he was careful on the way he spoke, but there was an obvious uncertain quality to his own words.
"It could be there are several of them working together."
He was shaking his head in disagreement before she had finished speaking.
"That can't be." was his prompt refusal.
Frustration started building inside her. "But it has been more more than half a year since the last wreck was found."
Elizabeth believed it very unlikely that a single band of pirates could perpetrate such undiscriminated onslaught all over the Caribbean for so long without at least some degree of assistance.
And why would they shift their target so suddenly if nobody had been able to stop them at sea so far? Wasn't it more logical to think that those pirates had already fled elsewhere?
"That's only the information that we have gathered from the easter Caribbean, Elizabeth." he argued tersely.
"So there have been new attacks?"
James hesitated as his frown deepened "Not anywhere near English soil."
Did that mean there had been wrecks found on other islands? Surely he would have already learned of such eventuality were that the case. Had he not told her?
"Why would their targets change so drastically?"
His lips pressed together as he stared at her for a long moment. "That I cannot be certain of," he admitted tiredly. "but we have managed to maintain the main trade routes secured, the merchant ships are escorted out of the Caribbean waters, and the ones with the most valuable cargo sail heavily guarded. Perhaps, they simply decided it was easier to change targets."
James' words were not completely without reason, yet...
"They had never taken any of the spoils before." she said, feeling quite disoriented by his stubbornness, knowing him to be clever enough to understand that his words directly contradicted his thoughts from earlier.
Why was he so insistent on such flawed explanation?
"The ones that raided Saint Vincent avoided a direct confrontation, and took everything that they could..." she persisted, remembering the many times she'd heard him complaint about the senseless brutality after discovering the two wrecks near Jamaica. "It feels like their intentions are vastly different this time. And I think you are making a premature assessment."
James' expression swiftly changed into affronted anger once he heard her verdict.
"What else am I supposed to believe then!?" he bellowed, letting his voice raise abruptly as his open palm landed on top of the table with a loud smack.
Elizabeth felt her shoulders tighten defensively at his outburst, but she glared at him confidently before retorting with unmasked sarcasm "Well, it appears to me like you have everything under control."
A heavy, unnerving silence followed as they glared at each other. However, guilt settled on her chest when she saw his features crumbled tiredly and his face fell onto his open hand.
"...That was not helpful." she conceded with an unhappy scowl, rumpling the linen of the bed between her fingers, still looking remorsefully at his hunched form. "I didn't mean to provoke you." she added more gently, trying to be conciliatory. While his reaction upset her, she had only meant to provide aid, not lead a new fight.
A long sigh passed slowly thru his lips as he raised his head, only to allow it to fall backwards, rolling his neck side to side a few times before eventually looking at her.
"I apologize." he offered, his voice returning to some semblance of his usual tempered tone, keeping his gaze entirely on her this time; the harsh, oppressive glint they've been carrying beginning to disappear. "That was completely out of order."
Her guarded stance lowered almost immediately after hearing his sincere regret.
Granting him a warm smile, she offered a much more heartfelt apology, "I was at fault as well. I'm sorry."
The corner of his mouth raised minimally before his fingers moved with the intention to retrieve the pile of documents that now laid scattered on the floor.
It took her but a second to determine she did not want him continuing to exhaust himself over those.
"Dear." she called simply, immediately making James' eyebrows draw upwards at her use of the endearment. "Come here." she offered, lifting her arms and extending them towards him in open invitation from her place on the bed.
The confusion that crossed his face lasted all but a few seconds, after which he stood and closed the short distance between them. Using one knee to hold his weight over her as he leaned forward and kissed her mouth.
"I'm sorry." he whispered, showing his repentance in the way his lips moved pleadingly, but hesitantly against hers.
"You need to rest, you are much too tense." she mumbled lightly, brushing her lips over his jaw as her hands held him, one by the shoulder and the other by the back of his head.
The smile he showed her was tired and tainted by bitterness. "Am I?"
"I can feel how tense you are." she responded, letting her finger wander down his nape. The moment she did, his head fell limply on her shoulder. "If you continue in this way, I fear your men might attempt a revolt against you." she jested.
The tension irradiating from his entire body was palpable, yet he made a low rumbling sound against her neck at her quip, wrapping his arms around her.
Pulling gently on him, she tried to steer his body down to the bed. But his body remained stubbornly still.
When she tugged him more strongly, James voiced a low protest. "Elizabeth."
"Lay down." she requested, stroking his cheek and kissing him again when he attempted to refuse again.
Holding his neck, she guided him down to her lap. He finally relented and let her place his head on her tights.
A true smile reached her lips when she saw his eyes close and his face lean further into the thin fabric of her chemise while his arms closed around her middle.
"You are going to make our baby scared of you if you persist with such terrible mood."
Her pitiful taunt received a short, but honest chuckle from him.
"You are entirely merciless, Love." he replied, groaning lowly when her fingers began massaging the back of his head with languid strokes.
"I remember warning you not to expect all fights to be fought fairly." she responded more arrogantly.
A loud, honest laugh finally erupted from deep within his chest, his lips curling into a devious smile before he shifted onto his back. "Sometimes your words make you sound as cunning as a seasoned criminal." he mused in thought, looking entertained by the idea.
"Scared?" she taunted playfully, caressing her way up the length of his neck before carefully pushing the pad of her thumb against his pulse point.
His smile remained serene as he captured her hand and pressed it to his mouth. "No."
"I merely want you to be aware." she informed him, keeping a hold on his hand. In return, he decided to use his thumb to stroke their intertwined knuckles "Your earnest approach might not necessarily always be the smartest."
"You sound much too experienced for your age." he mused, staring at her with a faint wrinkle on the bridge of his nose "Where did you even learn all these lessons on the duplicity of criminals?"
His question unintentionally unearthed memories that she was sure he would rather not be reminded of, making her hesitate on her response.
Being forced to understand just how truly vile and dangerous pirates could be had been as appalling as the brutal slap she received. And confessing to the treacherousness and violence she was witness to while held hostage on The Black Pearl, was not something she wished to talk about, more so as she stared at his mischievous but guileless smile.
"Women can be much more vicious than you might expect, Dear." she warned, moving a stray lock of hair away from his forehead, watching him with utmost sobriety. "Especially if there is something we truly want."
James made a perplexed sound in the back of his throat, "I might need to rethink my previous answer, Love."
His unconcerned retort made her façade disappear as she giggled, continuing to stroke his temple.
James seemed to be much more interested in enjoying her ministrations than on continuing their conversation, because his eyes closed, his breaths becoming shallow.
One of her knuckles brushed over his smooth cheek before her hand slid down to trace lazy figures on his chest. Admiring his straight, refined features as they relaxed completely.
The man was quite affectionate to her, and always willing to offer his attention whenever she sough it; yet, outside their privacy, it was rare for him to allow her to indulge or comfort him. So, watching him yield his constant state of apprehension, for however brief of a moment, caused her an immense feeling of contentment.
Elizabeth wished he could stay like that forever. Thus, she was almost disappointed when he decided to part his mouth and speak again.
"It's all devoid of sense." he mumbled softly. The stress in his voice had diminished considerably, and now his words almost resembled an unexpectedly childish lament as he clung to her chemise. "There was not even a trace left to indicate where they went, or who they are."
"And that is not your responsibility." she insisted, trying to stifle her frustration at knowing she wasn't completely correct. "No matter how stupid a pirate might be, it is beyond foolish to dwell near the island you recently raided." What caused her the most irritation was knowing James was sensible enough to be conscious of the truth in her words. "You couldn't have possibly expected to find them waiting for you to arrive on Saint Vincent and apprehend them."
His eyes opened as his expression filled with open incredulity. "Of course I did not. I would have never brought you with me if I had truly had any expectations to cross paths with a pirate ship." he declared simply, as if it was the most evident thing.
His lips pulling into an unfairly soothing smile when he saw her pouting down at him.
"It does not matter to me how much you scowl, Elizabeth." The hand that had been peacefully resting at his side, raised to rest over her abdomen, his thumb stroking her small prominence as he stared lovingly at her middle.
Can you feel something? she was tempted to ask, but knowing how disappointed he would feel if he couldn't, she chose not to.
"You know I won't ever put you in deliberate danger. Regardless of how angry you might become."
Impossible man.
A huff of annoyance passed thru her lips, but she was unable to offer a clever retort to such sentiment.
Elizabeth had noticed, noticed how he had developed a renewed sense of urgency over 'ridding the Caribbean of all pirate scum.' since he'd learned of her pregnancy. She'd been witness to all his efforts; to the many months he'd struggled, searched, and lost sleep over it, probably since the moment they found the wreckage following their wedding. It made her worry over his well being as well, yet she was unable to fault him for it.
The sincere relief he couldn't hide after months passed with no other wreck appearing near Jamaican waters, caused her an equally strong sense of gratitude.
Ignoring her indignant frown, James continued unbothered. "However, I was also not expecting to find absolutely no trace of anything useful."
But it was certainly a perplexing situation.
Disruptive, rowdy and stupid bunch they were, stealth and prudence were not things that pirates were famous for.
"Besides, Scarfield was a completely unserviceable source of information." he remarked with a deep, thoughtful frown, appearing to be focused on something.
Her lips bared with disdain at the mention of that man.
That bloody man was a pitiless, intolerable coward that proved incapable of accepting any fault over his own failure to capture an ordinary crew of pirates as they raided his post, she thought resentfully.
"You cannot allow yourself to think you should trust any of the words that leave that pompous mouth." she argued, fighting to reign her temper.
Angrily recalling the sight of James's men exhaustively scouring the town and interrogating people while Scarfield observed with the most insufferable sneer.
Elizabeth had been forced to watch from a distance as they inspected the section of the jungle that had been burnt, and she had been completely denied entry to the building the pirates robbed. Although she had almost felt honest delight once she learned who the stolen goods had belonged to, the news of the Company's presence on the Caribbean, so near their home had left her unsettled.
"I do not trust him." James reassured her, making her return her attention to the conversation they were having. "But as faith would have it, he was the only lead I had."
Her index finger carefully played with a stray lock that fell over his forehead.
"It will be alright." she tried to comfort him.
His eyes locked on her with a calm expression, but she couldn't determine what he was thinking until he actually spoke.
"You could be correct." his sudden admittance was satisfactory, but difficult to understand.
She offered a satisfied sound of acknowledgment, but kept silent to avoid discouraging his talkative disposition.
"It is a senseless situation. All these occurrences are too many to be unplanned coincidences. Yet... the odds of the criminals being the same ones are significantly low. The attacks on the ships were moving away from the Caribbean without following any known lane. The raids are moving towards Jamaica, and are more organised, their frequency is increasing. The only pattern I can recognize at the moment, is that there is none. That's simply… " he trailed off, appearing at a loss on how to proceed.
Elizabeth continued stroking his hair affectionately.
He huffed harshly and leaned further onto her touch. "I'm beginning to consider searching under the surface of the sea might be a better use of my resources."
Her hand stilled mid-motion, unable to determine if he might be jesting. "Pardon?"
His words were said in such quiet disgruntlement, that she was unsure whether or not he had meant for her to hear him; but she had. And once the realization dawned in his face, his expression confirmed that his words had been unintentional.
The back of his knuckles pushed against his closed lids with force while James appeared irritated by his lack of wit.
She had guessed he'd deliberately avoided giving her any information beyond vague details about the culprits he sought, and -understanding she was unable to really do anything about it and he preferred for her not to intervene- she hadn´t insisted. Still, being deliberately kept ignorant, bothered her.
"What is the meaning of those words?"
His lips curled into an almost imperceptible grimace. "Nothing. I was drivelling nonsense."
Elizabeth could not accept his dishonest, pitiable excuse. "What is it that you have not told me James?" she inquired softly, not wanting to disrupt their tranquil atmosphere.
When her nails trailed a path up his arm, his eyes fluttered close and his throat spill a gratified sound.
"I must admit I'm quite disappointed in myself." he complained suddenly without an ounce of resentment in him. "I would not have imagined it could be this effortless to extract intelligence from me. But I will admit that your methods of interrogation are rather creative."
Her nose crinkled with mirth. "That was never my intent." she assured him, brushing his temple with the pad of her thumb.
"It wasn't?"
"Not particularly." she reaffirmed, resisting the urge to laugh when he moaned loudly after her palm pressed on the long muscle connecting his shoulder to his neck. "You're too stiff. I'm simply seeking to relieved you."
A soft, noncommittal grunt was the only response she received, followed by another sound of pleasure that grumbled in his chest when her fingers dug into his scalp.
"Can you tell me?" she requested, hoping she wouldn't have to insist too much.
His eyebrows met in a thoughtful frown before he confessed, "Last year..." there was some vacillation in his voice but he persevered, "The old sailor that arrived in Port Royal after surviving the wreck. Do you remember him?"
She nodded.
Of course she remembered.
While she had not met him personally, James had spent weeks vexed by the man's death only a couple of days after being found. The poor soul had faded without ever recovering enough sense to properly recount the events that led to the destruction of the vessel he escaped.
"His words were most likely a result of deliriousness over his grave injuries... I have never heard of any vessel that could ever match such absurd description, and we have not sighted any ship remotely similar... "
"Absurd?" she interrupted, staring down at him pointedly.
"It was nothing but nonsense." James insisted, appearing to regret having made any mention of it.
"Please"
Now that he had so clearly drawn her interest, he seemed to accept there would be no point in trying to steer the conversation away from it.
He looked at her like his next words would be as unpleasant to hear as they would be to say. Ultimately, he gave up. "He claimed his ship was attacked by 'a demonic mouth that erupted from the depths of the sea, crewed by creatures pulled out from hell itself.' Then he said something about giant vines wrapping around the remains of the ship, taking everything to the bottom of the sea." he announced with visible distaste. "It was all I managed to discern, from the mumbling and the screams before he fainted."
He avoided looking directly at her while he said it, fiddling with the fabric of her gown instead.
But he couldn't stop her from understanding. "James…" she called with deliberate caution, feeling her skin raise with alert.
"Yes?"
"That is..."
"The hallucinations of a dying man."
Was is truly? What if it wasn't?
Her lips pursed into a thin, concerned line. "And if that is the case, then why would you not tell me?" she asked instead.
His expression shifted as his arms to support his weight, he raised away from his resting place on her lap and evened his face with hers. Looking completely unrepentant, he responded with a calm but meaningful "I think you understand the reason why."
While his stern green eyes kept her locked in place, she knew his severity was not truly directed at her.
"Of course the first thing that came to my mind was that damned, cursed gold. I have already warned you Elizabeth, there is a possibility Sparrow and Turner are involved with all of this."
Her eyebrows met at the implication, her hands clutching the fabric of the linen. "I don't believe they're the ones you are chasing after."
James just let out an exasperated growl as his back met the surface of the bed. "The faith you have placed on a pair of pirates is not justifiable, Love." he didn't sound angry, mostly worn, and a little disappointed.
Regardless, her expression remained serene as her chin stayed raised.
She knew how stubborn she appeared to him, and also that her words would upset him. However, there was something in her that insisted it couldn't possibly have been them.
"Will wouldn´t stand for it."
Only after saying it, did Elizabeth realize her defence of William Turner would only serve to incense her husband.
As she expected, his scowl became more pronounced, eyes narrowing sternly at her mention of the name. "Of course. The bold, yet brainless blacksmith's apprentice. I'm certain he is more than capable of going against an entire crew of mutinous pirates by his lonesome self." he retorted derisively, dismissively.
"He would try." she defended simply, holding his jaw in place when he attempted to look away from her. "He's a better man that you give him credit for."
And he had been a friend to her, if only for the briefest of times.
"Yes. I'm certain he would try." he assented with poorly veiled mockery. "Let's only hope Turner does not get himself killed before his valiant efforts come to fruition. I seem to remember he was not particularly gifted in the art of planning before executing."
There was a hint of real anticipation in his tone that made her eyes roll in annoyance at his immaturity, tightening her hold around his hair in mild reproach.
The stare he returned was remorseless, prideful, showing her an impertinent smirk as he continued rebelliously, "You must remember I will not be there to fight for him, nor save him from his witless heroics, Elizabeth."
"Don't be so callous." she scolded unhappily, allowing herself to fall next to him when he pulled softly on her wrist. Nevertheless, she did not resist the faint smile that pulled on her mouth as he pushed his lips against hers for a short taste.
"It's unattractive." she added stubbornly.
"A pirate is a pirate."
"Neither one of those two should be brazen enough to claim that treasure knowing of the consequences."
He hummed, neither in agreement nor denial.
"Do you disagree, then?"
"Well, as Isla de Muerta no longer exists, I don't suppose much thought should be invested into that particular scenario."
Her grasp on him jerked at the news, but she forced her lips to remain together while she frowned at him and willed him to finish the explanation.
"It appears the entrance collapsed, the cave was swallowed by the sea along with its treasure."
One single eyebrow lifted at the news. "It seems to me like there are a significant amount of subjects you have neglected to brief me on, Dear husband. I have never heard any mention of that before today." she could barely prevent her words from sounding like a recrimination.
"There is no proper reason why you should need to concern yourself with such matters, you are not a part of the Navy." he responded impatiently, looking nearly as irked as she felt.
"I care to know. And you know I do." she accused him, lips pressing into a tense line. "So why are you keeping things from me?"
An exhausted sigh was his first response. "...It was not truly my intention to keep secrets from you. I simply did not want to have a dispute over it." he confessed.
"I wouldn't have argued against you." she argued immediately.
Her response drew an amused smirk on his face. "In the same manner you are not arguing with me now?"
"Do not think yourself so clever." she ordered with a complicit smile. "I am not arguing, and we are not having a dispute." she declared, burying her hands inside his hair and kissing his skin placatingly.
He scoffed with scepticism, but his muscles remained completely lax under her touch. "I don't reckon I would mind this sort of fighting even if we were." he noted, placing an arm on her waist and bringing her closer to his side.
Her mouth continued moving over his skin, pressing lazy kisses along his neck, becoming distracted with it for a considerable while until she had a fresh realization. "If Isla de Muerta truly is gone, then it couldn't have been them." she voiced out loud, shifting away from him enough so that their gazes could meet.
"And you think that is the only way a guy like Sparrow could get himself cursed?"
That damned word again.
"Cursed?" she repeated, staring at him with a deep frown. "Why are you using that word? ...Are you truly willing to contemplate the possibility there might be something unnatural involved?" she asked in disbelief. Not because she couldn't fathom the possibility of it being true, but because she couldn´t believe James would.
In spite of being an accomplished sailor, her husband was oddly reticent to accept there could be any truth to the myths his fellow seaman believed in and feared.
His willingness to believe in any of it was barely sufficient to keep him cautious.
A soft grunt came from deep within his chest before he offered a short shrug of his shoulder, seemingly resigned.
"Don't you think it would be stranger if I did not even entertain the notion?"
No response came to mind to such reasonable assessment.
"And why would I not? I've already crossed swords with a dead man before. I would have to be a foolish simpleton not to." The sly, self-deprecating smile reflected the state of his thoughts. "It can´t be any more implausible that fighting a pirate that wouldn't die after being pierced and sliced on several occasions." His humoured expression fell as he continued, "It makes more sense than anything else I can think of. Even a first of the line ship would not have been capable of getting close enough to provoke that much damage without giving the other ship time to defend itself."
"You wouldn´t listen to me when I tried to warn you of the pirates of The Black Pearl."
"Last time you didn't try to warn me about the curse, Elizabeth." he reminded her with a detached expression and a challenging raise of his eyebrow, making her bite her lips with slight embarrassment and guilt. "I'm simply unwilling to commit the same mistakes from the past."
That part of him was all too easy to understand.
"...It is hard to imagine that cowardly idiot would be involved in such carnage." His admittance seemed to almost cause him physical pain, but he was swift to add "Yet, it does not mean I can be completely certain he has played no part in it either." his thumb raised to her cheekbone, stroking it slowly. "...Can you accept that much?"
She truly did not have any better conjectures on what was happening, so she nodded her assent, capturing his hand between her face and her palm. "You are clever and capable," she offered sincerely, knowing there was very little else she could do but give words of comfort. "You will find the ones responsible for all of these."
James' face leaned down towards hers. "Are you voluntarily cheering for our Navy?" he asked as a small smirk lifted one corner of his mouth and his gaze filled with sceptic mirth.
She brought her hand to both sides of his jaw, pressing down on the impertinent dimple that adorned his cheek, somehow feeling slighted by his words. "No." she declared, sounding almost petulant as she brought his face closer to hers, "But I am enthusiastically cheering for you."
His smirk widened until it became a smile, full of innocent excitement. "Are you?"
Elizabeth found his reactions endearing but bewildering.
She had married him, he was the father of her little flutter. Of course she would choose his side.
"Why do you seem so amazed by such obvious detail?" she asked with a small tilt of her head, resting her palms on his chest.
"I'm your ally, I'll always be on your side." she declared. Her words ringing with the same certainty and confidence of announcing an immutable, unchangeable truth. It surprised her a little, but then her lips pushed delicately against him without much thought. "Whatever happens." she heard herself promise softly.
That was all that mattered to her. All she cared for him to remember.
What she didn't expect was the way James' expression sobered completely as he stared at her with fierce determination.
"And I am yours." was his unwavering response, pulling her firmly to him without ever parting his eyes from hers "Always, Elizabeth."
The need to reassure herself of his sincerity became too powerful. The question came out as barely anything more than a whisper, "No matter what happens?" What she couldn´t hide was the way her fingers tightened and pulled on his shirt. "You won't abandon me?"
"No matter what."
She couldn't help but believe everything he said whenever he looked at her like she was the only thing that could possibly matter in the world.
"Even if I do something foolish again?" she asked with a resigned smile.
There was something so profound reflected inside James' tender gaze that made it all too easy to fall into, to fall into him. It was the closest to selfishness she'd ever seen in them.
"Especially when you decide to do something foolish again." he confirmed, trying -and failing- not to laugh at his own words. It was the dearest sound she'd ever heard, and she ended up laughing along.
It was embarrassing, and exciting… it left her unable to look at it for too long. "You're not supposed to agree with me on that." she scolded, bumping her forehead gently against his.
Once he regained his composure, his demeanour became serious as his palm stroked over the curve of her lower back, "It doesn't matter what you do. I'll do whatever necessary to protect you."
Her face moved down to his chest, dropping soft kisses over his exposed skin. Nothing but an excuse to look away for a moment.
Then she felt his lips near her ear. "I could never leave you behind, Love."
In that moment she understood his feelings with visceral clarity, making her certain not one of his words could possibly be less than genuine.
"See?" she croaked weakly, "That was impressively charming." she continued, feeling the words come out with unusual difficulty, "Although it does make me worry that your judgement might be impaired beyond salvati... "
As his mouth captured hers, Elizabeth was not able to finish her sentence. And she did not care to.
His mouth curved upwards against her when her hand moved under his shirt. But at no point were his efforts hindered by her actions.
She simply allowed herself to bask in the way he felt against hers, solid, comforting, warm, appealing.
"I could not care less if it is." he breathed against her mouth.
"You can not take responsibility for the entire Caribbean." she pleaded with a soft whisper, continuing to stroke the back of his head.
"...I understand."
Note: my sincerest thanks to everyone that is still around for your patience.