Author: Sarah Winters
Rated: PG-13
Status: Ch. 1-6 (unfinished)
Pairing: Jack/Elizabeth
Summary: That beach scene...revisited.
Disclaimer: I own nothin but the plot, matey!
-
Chapter 1: The Beach
Chapter 1: The Beach
"It must have been awful for you being stuck here Jack," Elizabeth's voice slurred, full credit given to said Rum.
She leaned lazily, correction: drunkenly, against Jack's increasingly warm shoulder.
"Oh yes, but I would have to say that the scenery has much improved." His hand found its way to her shoulder where his fingers gripped her in an attempt of seduction.
"Mr. Sparrow, I don't think I have had enough rum to tolerate that kind of behavior," Elizabeth stated, quite exasperated with the aloof pirate.
Aloof pirate, yes, Elizabeth thought, not sexy at all.
Not in the least bit.
Really.
Jack looked at her curiously, as if he were trying to understand her outburst. It was obviously too much effort, so Jack just shrugged and went back to his rum. Maybe Jack just went back to his rum because he wanted more rum. She placed her hand to her forehead trying to alleviate her growing headache and queeziness due, once again, to none other but the infamous rum.
It really was a vile drink.
It made you feel impure.
It made you have impure thoughts...about impure people. Impure pirates.
She gazed at him now. He really was beautiful if you took a while to study him. Long black, but rough hair trailing down his shoulders, held in place by a sea-weathered bandanna. Coal framed eyes staring mysteriously out over the open sea with well-hidden depths. Haphazard clothing draped over a well-musceled, and quite exposed chest, Elizabeth noticed with appreciation. Rough hands, pirates hands curved lossely around a rum bottle. He was handsome, it was certain, in his own obscure fashion.
She visibly jumped when he turned to look at her. He flashed her his 100 watt Captain Jack smile. She could do no more than shudder at his charm.
Will.
Think of Will.
Have to save Will. Will Turner. Not Jack. Not innocently guilty, aloof, drunken, naughty and self Riteous Jack. She found none of these qualities appealing in men. None whatsoever.
Really.
She was sure of it.
So why wasnt she making an attempt to move as he slid himself closer to her? He proceeded to close the already tiny gap between them. He then lifted his hand to rest against the side of her face. Elizabeth closed her eyes in near ecstacy at his touch. His hand was calloused from years at sea. The sensation of rough skin against smooth was a new feeling for her all together. She opened her eyes all but halfway to see Jack gazing at her intently. His hand made its way down to her mouth where his thumb reached out to run along the length of her lower lip. she sharply took in her breath at the intimate contact.
"Jack we must'nt."
His hand dropped immediately at her words, but only to her own dissapointment.
"It's just wrong. What of Will? What of the Black Pearl? Do you care nothi.."
She was cut off immediately by his forefinger against her lips. A wordless plea for her to remain silent. She opened her mouth to argue, only to be cut off once more. This time, in a whole new fashion.
His lips came against hers slowly, painfully slow. He had moved so quickly she hadnt even the time to think. He was kneeling now, up against her, pushing her down into the coarse sand. On top of her now, he continued his assault on her lips.
Elizabeth couldn't protest.
She didnt want to.
This man, this pirate had her trapped, caged...willingly.
She moaned against his lips and he smiled through his kisses. Rough kisses. Rough like his skin. Like his heart. His hands traveled south to her hips where they gripped her desperately as if she would be swept away at any minute if he didn't hold on.
When his lips lefts hers, she almost cried out at the lost of the sensation. She wasn't at a loss for long. He kissed genlty down her jawline to her neck, where he paused to nibble, then to her collarbone where he nipped gently at her now exposed flesh.
She had known pirates where pillagers. Pillagers of houses, and treasure. Pillagers of women. he was pillaging her now. Robbing her of her purity. And she was surrenduring willingly.
His lips came up again to rest next to her ear.
"I am not a unich luv...savvy?" he whispered, his voice coarse with the ecstacy that was running through his veins.
She made sure to look in his eyes before replying.
"Savvy," She whipered breathlessly.
-
Beach.
Beach? Oh...yes of course, cast aways.
She looked to her right.
Pirate.
Jack. A very disheveled Jack. With a very satisfied, yet peaceful smile forming ever so slightly on his lips in the innocence of his slumber.
Satisfied?
She cringed. What immoral atrocity have I commited? Her memory hit her full force.
Lips crushed, hands gripped. Fingers tangled in hair. A female voice moaned, a dauntless masculine voice whispered sweet nothings in her ear as he devoured, yes pillaged and plundered the very core of her being. With great difficulty, she managed to push the sensual reminiscence from her mind.
It would only take her places she could never return.
Elizabeth shuddered at the thought of facing Jack when he awoke. She silently cursed herself. She might as well be a common whore as far as he was concerned.
It was only then that she took the time to examine her own appearance. Funny, she never imagined she could possibly care what Jack thought of her. What remained of her bodice after the plank had been further destroyed in Jack's fit of impatient, yet, fiery passion only hours before. Hit again with remembrance, Elizabeth's lips parted in longing.
Hand whipped out a knife. The knife tearing smoothly and gracefully down said bodice. Strong, rough hands ripping open thin, newly flimsey material. Whiskered lips colliding with flesh.
Eye's squeezed shut, Elizabeth managed to get to her feet. Pulling up the torn straps of her bodice, she tried her best to right herself. She paced a few feet away from Jack's sleeping form. She watched him only moments longer before she forced herself to turn away. Leaning against a palm, she became lost in her plaguing thoughts.
Jack shifted.
"Bloody..."
"Rum? Rum..." Jack swore as he found the multitude of empty bottles.
Long, calloused fingers rubbed tepidly at his brow. Bloody brilliant. Cast away without rum. He looked to his left.
Then to his right.
"Where in the.."
He ceased his words abruptly when his eyes found her lithe form poised against a nearby palm. Her back to him.
The pirates eye's traveled along her backside appreciatively.
Shakily, and with great difficulty, he managed to maintain balance long enough and stumble to where Elizabeth stood. He outstretched a hand to her shoulder.
The minute his hand came in contact with her delicate flesh, he felt her stiffen. Her body went rigid and she didn't utter a word.
Now Jack had a rather extensive record with women, and none of said experiences had been truly positive, so he knew when he was being given the cold shoulder.
Quite literally this time.
Bloody...
"Luv, you can't just avoid me all day. Unless you are just postively dripping with disdain....Even then,"
She could see his hands out of the corner of her eyes. As usual, they were making their highly animated gestures, accentuating his every word.
As if his voice didn't already well-suffice the task.
"Even then," he continued, "I'm sure it wouldn't keep you away for long...Am I right Ms. Swann?" he practically murmured out his final words.
She turned to look at him then. His eyes twinkled, and his lips were stretched in the cockiest lopsided grin ever displayed in mankind.
When she turned, he noticed the utter lack of amusement made clear across her emotinless visage. Jack eyes widened in mock confusion.
"Was it the rum love? Cause' if it be the rum, I am sure I can plunder more for you somewhere, Just give me a min.."
"Is everything a joke to The Mighty Captain Jack Sparrow?"
He stopped short at her inquiry, Brow furrowed mouth agape.
"C-Can you take nothing seriously at all?" Her voice quavered with unexpected emotion.
Jack knew of a wide array of things. He knew the art of the sword and self defense, the freedom and call of the sea, how to make and take love from a woman.
Dealing with women's emotions was new territory for Jack. Territory he would prefer not to invade.
He thought for a moment before replying, hand cupping chin in a seemingly sarcastic display of wisdom. "What exactly, Ms Swann, am I misunderstanding?"
She looked at him horrified. Her chin practically hit the sand. It took no more. Elizabeth began to walk strenuously in the opposite direction then; into the palms.
Jack rolled his eyes dramatically, and followed her close behind.
"Aye! Ms Swann!"
He effortlessly took hold of her arm and twisted her body into his.
"Now, see here, there be no more of this fleeing nonsense, savvy?"
Savvy.
With what remained of her fleeting anger and strength, she managed to push herself out of his grip. In no less than a moment's hesitation, her palm came into sharp contact with his cheek. His eyes closed, and his head snapped to the side from the force of the blow.
Dropping her hand, she gazed at him wearily. Her breathing heavy. Her chest heaving.
He moved after what seemed like an eternity. Opening his eyes, he turned his head to face her once again. Raising a hand, he inspected the place where she had made her imperceptible assault upon his face. He gave her then, what seemed like the most sober and genuine expression he could ever muster.
"Now that, I most definitely deserved." Yet, his voice was not sarcastic. It was solemn, overflowing with honesty.
Honesty.
Or so it seemed. Could Jack be trusted?
The pirate's face turned from concerned to rather cold and impassive.
In the short while Elizabeth had known him, she had not fathomed he could ever harbor such a harsh expression.
She silently cursed herself. He was human wasn't he? He was permitted to have feelings too.
But he was Jack, The infamous Captain Jack Sparrow.
She had been wounded none-the-less. Drunkenly, yet openly and willingly, she had given herself to him. She despised herself for believeing it would mean anything to him.
To a pirate.
"My first.." her voice wavered, "Your heart is cold." Her voice was almost inaudible as she choked out the words.
"Cold, luv?" He grinned bitterly, humorlessly. "Am I not righteous and charitable enough a pirate for the likes of Ms Swann?"
She opened her mouth to argue but was cut short.
"I am what I am poppet." He accentuated each word with a step closer to her.
"An. impure. malevolent. ruffian."
A hand reached behind to pull her forcibly to him. The other wrapped roughly around her neck to pull her lips to his. He kissed her long and hard. Feeding off her. Drinking her greedily as if she were rum. Despite her better instincts, she moaned into the kiss. She reached to hold him closer, desiring to close any space between them.
He pulled away abruptly. Placing both hands upon her shoulders he set her back in place. His eyes remained like stone.
"Now now luv, you wouldn't want to venture down that road again eh?" His voice was even and reserved.
He began to walk away from her then. He stopped short and turned to her once more.
"And, do us a favor, lass..."
She felt naked, As if he were staring straight through her to the other side.
"Don't presume to have insight into that which you do not understand."
-
God-damned rum.
Elizabeth could just imagine her mentor's jaws dropping in disbelief upon hearing her choice of words. Now she, of course, was not known to curse, for it was not proper. But given the current situation, and the fact that she was thriving on anger, she could care less what her mentors would have thought.
Sparks flew at her once more, burning and singeing tiny areas of her skin. Shielding her eyes at the explosion, she reached for the last remaining full bottle to throw into the raging blaze. The rum could always be blamed, but could also be used.
The signal had grown to over a thousand feet high, there was no doubt they would see it.
They would come. Perhaps they had already found Will. Perhaps he had already been saved.
And she would leave this island, this hell. She could return Home. Elizabeth sighed, relishing the notion.
She stood up to admire her work. The fire continued to grow, propelling a funnel of smoke as high as the towering palms reached the cerulean skies. Then, head lowered, she kicked lamely at the pristine ivory sand.
Jack be damned.
He was indeed a bad influence of sorts. His cursing above many things had already hooked its nasty claws into her proper and well educated ways of speech. His wicked, indecent behaviors and gestures, his uncouth appearance. His constant drunken nature.
His newly discovered conniption. An unexpected dark side to the seemingly simple pirate.
Everything about him screamed corruption, even....
The way his hands had laced perfectly into hers against the sand. The delicacy of his lips grazing ever so gently across her sensitive skin, dutifully following trails of rum. The grace he had shown as he ran his fingers through her hair and leaned his forehead against her own, closing his eyes in the innocence of his ectasy. How considerate, yet attentive he had been as he had taken her.
Pillaged her, Elizabeth thought bitterly.
That's what pirates did wasn't it? Pillaged, plundered, betrayed, violated.
Ravished.
He had been gone for quite a while now. He had left her. She wondered if he would ever return. In fact, she had watched his retreating figure until it had dissapeared completely, only to be engulfed by the sand and sea of the horizon.
Surely he would be back, the island was only so big. Elizabeth shook her head to rid herself of the notion. Unsteadily, she began to back away from the fire that was threatening to lick her with its mounting flames.
She faltered when her back collided with something solid. Rigidly, she held her breath.
"Bloody woman, why the rum?"
Her eyes widened and she turned to him near imploding with anger.
His face held horror and disbelief as he watched the fire devour his precious stash, hand reaching to grip the pistol at his waist. She smiled inwardly, enjoying his momentary distress at the site of her creation.
At least she had caused him to feel something, anything.
Immediately, Jack moved to the cellar, flung open the door, and sank to his knees.
"The rum's gone...Why's the rum gone?" He looked at her bewildered. "All of it?"
After a moment, she turned to him. "I see Your Grace has returned from his outing. Are you quite finished with your little tantrum, Jack?"
"Tantrum?" Jack rose, quite righteously to his feet and smiled at her wording, "I do NOT have tantrums."
"Oh, right, so now we've added denial to your wide assortment of blatant issues?" She was pushing, and she knew it.
"A proposition luv," he countered, one hand flung lazily in the air as if demonstrating his point, "I steer VERY clear of your fragile sentiments, and you," he flashed a sidelong grin, "Cease your heedless disection of my said issues. Do we have an accord?"
He began to swagger, yes swagger Elizabeth noticed to where the water met the sand.
"Running away again Jack?" she inquired, following him to the shore, "Is this not the 'fleeing nonsense' you so recently referred to?"
She waded slowly to where the pirate stood, both of them now thigh-deep in water. The lower remnants of her gown began to fan on the water's surface, creating the unearthly illusion that she was floating.
He silently stared out over the sea, making case and point to ensure she was unwelcome.
"What do you run from Jack? What do you hide?" she asked softly. Her eyes following his line of vision out into the depths of the water.
Without warning he pulled her in front of him and gripped her almost painfully around the shoulders. The pirate shook her roughly.
"What is it that you desire of me girl?" he inquired, "What can I give you that will satiate this, this nonsense of yours?" he asked her incredolously.
Rolling his eyes at her silence, he continued, "It was one night luv, one bloody blissful night." He released her, looked in her eyes, and smiled somewhat cruely, "I don't owe you a bleedin' thing."
The sharp sound of sudden gunshots were quite startling, causing them both to jump is unison. The shots reverberated in the sky and off the palms. Filled with newfound hope, Elizabeth began to search out the familiar white sails that had appeared upon the waterline.
"I pity you Jack."
She gave him one final empty look before wading back to the shore.
The navy fleet was already making its way over the beach. Elizabeth held her ground.
She waited.
Jack came to stand a short distance behind her. She felt his eyes on her. Penetrating her.
Commodore would come, Will, perhaps. And she would leave.
But what of Jack. She looked to her feet.
What of Jack?
-
"The theory of late is that he was lost subsequent the explosion."
Elizabeth stared blankly at the wall behind Commodore. She tried to picture herself on the beach again. At mass, at studies. Anywhere but here, in this tomb.
She allowed her eyes to methodically follow the inconsistent, if not horrifically clashing pattern of the wall paper. She released her breath only when she realized she had been holding it.
Upon hearing no reply from the seemingly distant girl, Commodore continued.
"He was indeed a decent man, Ms Swann, upstanding in his own right," He paused before rising from his chair to stand before her, "As it may be in your best wishes, Will shall be honored in his death, his sacrifice. He passed nobley."
Elizabeth looked to him then. Commodore would tell her what she wished to hear. He would spoon feed her as if she were an infant.
Naive.
Commodore noticed the slight flash in her eyes and kneeled before her.
"I don't pretend to be ignorant in regards to your prior 'sentiments' for Mr. Turner," He countered, pushing a stray lock of chestnut hair from her face. Tucking it behind her ear, he took the advantage to gaze into her eyes.
"All I require...request of you Elizabeth, is that you open your eyes to what is before you."
Pausing a moment, he took her hand in his, "I could give you anything, Elizabeth, If you would not deny me."
She fought the urge to cringe at his words. The temptaion to viciously swat his hand from her own.
Suddenly, a strong sense of nausea came over her.
Will.
While he had suffered, she had relished.
Will had died under that moon, the same moon under which she had felt a sense of rebirth.
That night.
Guilt began to rip through her and she fought the tears stinging like acid at the back of her eyes. She had to get out of this box. She had to escape.
"Please, you must be so kind to excuse me."
He nodded in empathically, "Of course."
She rose quickly from her seat to make her way to the landing. Once there she raced down the steps, forgetting fully to uphold the slightest air of ladylike grace.
Immediately upon stepping out she pulled the warm Caribbean air deep into her lungs. She gripped her hands together in a feeble attempt to cease their shaking.
Commodore Norrington observed Elizabeth from the window.
"I know what your heart desires, Ms Swann," he whispered softly, "If you know what's best, you will choose me."
"Commodore Sir?"
He whipped around to see two soldiers at his berth. Their faces were troubled. Commodore all but rolled his eyes.
"What is it now?" he asked with an air of disinterest.
"He's uh...escaped, Sir," the soldier's voice increasingly anxious.
"Escaped? How in God's name is that possible?" Commodore inquired roughly.
"Eh, nightwatch mentioned something about, about a dog, Sir," the second soldier volunteered.
Commodore dropped his shoulders and closed his eyes at the humiliation. The Infamous Captain Jack Sparrow strikes again.
When would this charade end?
"That would be twice, TWICE that you, you imbeciles have allowed that dog to escape!" Commodore took a moment to right himself.
"You will find him and deliver him immediately to the gallows, am I understood?"
"Oh yes, yes of course Sir," they reassured in earnest. They continued to stand before Norrington as if awaiting further instruction.
"Now you fools!" Commodore commanded, with high exasperation. They faltered at his tone and departed quickly.
-
Elizabeth turned for what seemed to be the hundredth time that evening. No matter how she positioned herself upon the bed, she could not find a release. The linens tangled, the pillows too soft. Her body ached for the coarse, yet warm leverage of sand beneath her.
A familiar warmth above her.
She groaned and attempted to purge the wicked thoughts from her head. Jack was gone. Why must she be plagued by him still? She should be in mourning for Will, none other. She opened her eyes at a thought that had not occured to her until now.
Commodore was a man of nobility, was he not?
Yet, no matter how wealthy or noble, one could not escape the sin of deceit. Had he deceieved her? She began to wring her mind. He had promised her no harm would come to Jack, discluding, of course the fortnight he was to spend in the brigg. If the events had unfolded to said plan, Jack should be long at sea by now.
He could not resist the call of the water. If she had felt it, there was no doubt he himself had flown to it at first light.
Flown to it like a sparrow. Elizabeth smiled inwardly at the irony. Flown to the sea, to the open freedom that lies in its endless depths.
It gripped her then, sleep gnawed viciously at the back of her mind, and she succumbed to its sweet beckoning.
-
Hands.
A hand running smoothly up her thigh to rest at the slight curve of her waist. Elizabeth slowly raised heavy lids only to be met with a hazy darkness.
She felt distant, detatched.
The bed shifted under new weight. The hand, a calloused hand, moved then under her chemise to lie in warm wait against the cool flesh at the small of her back.
Jack.
Closing her eyes in sweet relief, she whispered into the darkness, "How?"
A deep, warm voice in the twilight soothed her confusion.
"You forget one thing luv, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."
-
* 'dia um' : 'day one' in Portuguese
-
Eyes downcast, she toyed gently with his hands, lacing and unlacing their fingers.
"Luck is not an infinite thing Jack, one day they will catch you," Elizabeth's expression became melancholy, "I cannot fathom you caged, contained, or worse, with a rope around.."
"Hush now, luv," A hand was poised against her lips.
The pirate shifted, laying her against his chest, his back to the mahogany headboard. Taking a lock of her silky hair, he twirled it rhythmically around his finger. He began to hum quietly, his voice soothing. She smiled briefly at his chosen words.
"And really bad eggs..."
Abruptly, she sat up to face him.
"What happened to you Jack?"
He froze completely and looked at her now, fully baffled.
Bloody...emotional poppycock.
When he did not reply, she reworded her query. "On the island?" her voice became softer, nearly inaudible, "What happened?"
Jack rolled his eyes, rising from the bed to pace in front of the open bay windows. Bracing his weight, he leaned firmly against the ivory balustrade to gaze longingly out into the sea. Silently, Elizabeth came up behind him.
Uneasily, she wrapped her arms loosely around his waist. Jack sighed the sigh of the tortured, eyes closed, head lowered.
"I knew this would happen." He placed his hands upon hers, tightening her grip, reassuring her strength. "And God help me, if I did not try to end it right then and there," his voice boldened slightly before he continued.
"For all intents and purposes luv, you should know that I certainly did not intend this, and m'purpose was anything but dishonorable," his lips curled into a grand smile. "In fact, I had the means to steer clear of said lass from dia um."
She opened her eyes in annoyance. "Portuguese, Jack?" Leaning her head against his back once more, she mocked him buoyantly, "There is so much mystery to be revealed of Captain Jack Sparrow."
"Aye, right hell, there be much to know and tell," he turned and looked at her mischievioulsy, "but who says I'll be tellin'?"
"I suppose I shall just have to reveal it for myself then." She lightly tipped his hat off his head and allowed it to fall to the floor.
"Savvy?" she inquired innocently, locking eyes with Jack.
"You are a fiesty little thing, am I right?" his voice softly sensual from the need growing within him.
When he made no move, Elizabeth foolishly averted her gaze.
Common whore.
Ha.
She wouldn't last a day on the streets.
"Come now luv, I won't bite," he paused as if in deep thought, "well, not to overbearing amounts in the least."
With a renewed sense of courage, she came to stand against him and slowly lifted her hands. His eyes remained fixed upon her. As if handling the most fragile of porcelain, she slipped her fingers beneath his sea-weathered bandanna and loosened the battered crimson material from his head. A mess of raven hair fell to his shoulders. Some pieces braided, others ornamented in colorful beads. She fought the desire to run her hands through it.
His eyes dutifully followed her hands as they came to rest at his chest, exposed through his carelessly open shirt. She stopped short. He could sense her evident distress in the slight tremble of her hands against his skin. He took them in his own and squeezed lightly once more in reassurance.
"Tis' not a bloody test girl," his brow furrowed in concern.
She shook her head feverishly, hands dropping from his loosened grasp. "It's not that," she replied, her voice eerily low.
"Then what of it?" he countered, positively flustered.
Eyelids fluttered subtly and her gaze deserted his to settle on an indiscriminate object behind him. Her mouth opened and closed undecidedly before she found her voice.
"Will's gone."
Silence filled the already quiescent space.
Though unnoticed, Jack's eyes flashed at her confession.
After moments of the tension heavy silence, Elizabeth ensnared full dexterity to break it.
"You have nothing to say? Does this not phase you in the least?"
"Curse those loathsome pirates," Jack paused to rethink his wording, "again, I mean."
"You find humor in this?"
Elizabeth was downright bewildered.
Jack dropped his shoulders. "Of course not luv, but am I expected to do something in regards to the statement?"
She looked at him curiously.
"Do something?" she hesitated in thought, "That's quite an odd thing to say, Jack."
"Why's that, now?"
Jack was oblivious.
"He died in the explosion."
"Yes, luv, I dutifully remember, I'm not that rum-addled." He then added slowly, "I was there at the time."
Elizabeth continued to reguard him suspiciously.
Jack sighed.
Now or never.
"Ms Swann, I have a proposition for you."
"Not similar to your previous proposition, I hope." she countered, unimpressed.
He grinned boyishly in rememberance. "Not at all, in fact quite the opposite."
She stared at him blankly. His expression became most dire.
"Come with me."
Lips pursed, brow furrowed, Elizabeth looked to Jack longingly. Though the answer seemed no more obvious than it was truthful, she was bombarded nonetheless by inner turmoil.
The sudden sound of rifle barrels to wood surprised both Jack and herself.
Someone was at the door.
They both strained to discern the muffled voices. This was not an easy task, considering there seemed to be a multitude of them.
"By order of the Commodore, the navy has been given official permittance to search this houshold among others. Please step aside sir."
A quieter voice, "We know he's here."
Now terrified, Elizabeth raced to the door and secured various locks and deadbolts. She looked to Jack whos coal-rimmed eyes had widened. He was in running stance already, hands practically twitching with adrenaline. Breathing heavily, he looked to her.
"You must decide," he stated flatly.
Heavy footsteps rapidly made their way upstairs.
"Now would be good, luv."
A voice sounded just past the door, "Your flat out of luck Sparrow, It's the gallows for you."
Elizabeth could do nothing but whimper with indecision.
* 'dia um' : 'day one' in Portugese.
-
Decide for me.
The volume of the chaos that lie just beyond the door increased with every wasted moment.
"Luv?" Jack's voice was soft, it was prosaic, it was an ultimatum.
Her eyes continued to dart from the door to Jack. She had yet to provide him with an answer, but visibly flinched at the sudden ring of gunfire in the hall.
Cursing softly and quite unwilling to waste any more time, Jack grabbed her arm and pulled her, rather roughly, across the floor to the open windows. Wordless but willing, Elizabeth allowed her body to give into his forceful direction.
Jack cringed inwardly as he gazed out below the terrace. The lower remnants of the pristinely lineal wall met abruptly with a narrow strip of loose earth.
Not so bad, he thought, pursing his lips into a thin line.
Beyond that, steep blunt rocks overlooked the rough seas. Weighing the probability of injury versus their remaining option, he decided they would take the chance.
Aye, live precariously. He'd exuted that particular fashion most of his life, and look how he turned out. Jack bit his lower lip.
There would be no living with Elizabeth after this.
Nonetheless, he turned to her, took her hands in his, and raised her chin so she could meet his eyes. Quite Unexpectedly, given the current situation, his mouth curled up into a softhearted half-smile. Four words.
"Do you trust me?"
She blinked away unshed tears, threatening to fall due to the abundance of recent and incessant trauma that was beginning to define her life, her every decision and choice. Gazing out to the inerrant peril that lie just below them, Elizabeth replied steadily.
"Yes."
After inwardly rejoicing in relief upon her confession, he hastily unveiled his ardent and rather blatant plan.
"We're going to jump."
Elizabeth nodded languidly in response. Her actions were stoic, rendered num by the implications of what they were about to do. The foolhardy stunt they were to perform.
Plunging into action, he took great care in setting her atop the threshold. Once there, she slowly rose to stand on the outside of the balustrade. Upon joining her, he firmly took one hand in his own, pulling her lithe form possesively to his side. His remaining hand wrapped most securely around her waist. He wouldn't be able to maintain such a rebelling instability for much longer.
"Now or never luv."
Then Jack released. A sparrow to the wind.
For her, it was new.
It was falling, but something more. The sensation of air through her fingers was electric. The blood rush to her head intoxicating. The fleeting sense of desolation as her hand was propelled from Jack's, terrifying.
She did not have long to be afraid, however, for with an all but gradual force she hit the earth.
The blackness deceived her. The eradication felt as if she had been out for days. Yet apparently it had been only seconds, she realized, as a strong hand shot forward to pull her effortlessly from the soil. In an evanescent glance, she was inured with the realization that she had missed the rocks by no more than mere inches.
"We have to move," his voice grated with newfound adrenaline. He forced her into a run, despite her painfully weighty petticoat and the gray haze still brutishly corrupting her vision. The sudden and sharp sound of cracking wood filled the otherwise taciturn twilight. Jack's would-be captors had just broken through her door and come to stand unpretentiously against the rail. Yet, they were withholding their fire.
Because of her.
"You really are one lucky son of a bitch, you know that Jack?"
A single eyebrow was raised, shocked by her vulgar choice of words. Rolling his eyes, he tightened his grip around her waist never breaking their burdensome pace. By dawn the port would be crawling with Commodore's loathsome, dimwitted minions.
Fully exerted, they managed to make it beneath the docks. Only then did he release her from his arms. Lacking his support, she fell carelessly against a wind and sea worn column. Jack bent over slightly to catch his breath, hands resting on his knees. Much to his now mounting bewilderment, she began to laugh. Not just a chuckle or mere snicker, mind you, but a fit of hearty howls and shrieks.
He slowly rose from his crouch to observe her in awe, unable to emit even the merest syllable.
After a few moments, her strange display of untimely merriment faded and deduced to a beaming simper. She looked to Jack apologetically.
"Sorry, It's just...this!" She motioned dramatically to their surroundings and waited for his recognition, which never came. He continued to regard her incredulously. Sighing heavily, she enlightened Jack, rather exasperated with his incoherence.
"This, this whole situation is completely insane, Jack."
His brow furrowed in thought. Intuitively raising one finger to the air, he opened his mouth to speak, only to be sequestered once more.
"I mean, I Elizabeth Swann, a noble at that, am vagabond with an infamous pirate, on the lam from Port authorities."
A broad grin stretched across his handsome face. "Aye Miss Swann, we be right bloody fugitives."
She giggled slightly at his words. "Father must be up in shambles." Her sonority faded, and her gleeful expression lessened somewhat at the realization.
Noticing her rather severe change in demeanor, he removed his hat and placed it playfully atop her head. Unsatisfied, he reached around her and ran his fingers subtly along the back of her neck, smiling appreciatively as the motion of his fingertips sent her into a fit of shivers. Then, with one expert movement, he released her hair from its coiffure and allowed the chocolate tendrils to fall freely to her shoulders. He stepped back to examine his creation.
"Why Miss Swann, I believe you would make one mighty fine scallywag," he told her in mock fidelity.
She glared at him, obviously unimpressed. If looks could kill, Elizabeth would be the bloodiest pirate of the Caribbean. He raised his hands in defense, shrugged innocently, and turned to look cautiously past a column.
Removing his hat gingerly, she began to toy with its edge, running and smoothing her fingers along the rough leather stitching. A notion occurred to her then, one of pirates surely, but not of Jack's nature.
They were skeletal and decrepit, inhuman and inhumane all at once. Under the light of the moon they existed for one purpose, and one purpose alone. An insufferable curse. They were cursed men with cursed souls; preordained to an eternal fire.
She broke her haunting thoughts only to study Jack, a pirate himself, under the glow of the stars. He was quite different.
The moonlight highlighted and shadowed each valley and plane of his handsome face perfectly, his eyes rendered darker and more hidden. His hands lying in wait against the aged wood of the column appeared both strong and well defined.
Hands capable of many things.
They were artfully lethal in possession of both sword and pistol, yet could move so gracefully, so supplely against her skin. Elizabeth's lips parted and her eyelids slipped in a familiar longing. If even possible, he had just become ever the more captivating to her at that moment. The sound of rapidly approaching footsteps brutally released her from her reverie.
Jack turned to her, expression strangely exuberant, given the undoubtedly approaching soldiers.
"What now?" she whispered.
His eyes twinkled under the light of the moon.
"Seems that I'll be comandeering another ship."