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The Scythe's Song	By : hallowedmaiden Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (All) > Het - Male/Female > Jack/Elizabeth Views: 2815 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own POTC or the characters and I do not make any money from this story.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
She was stretched out on Jack's black leather sofa in the living room, trying not to fall asleep. The damn thing, along with the feather pillow that he kept there, was comfortable, and very nice, just like the rest of Jack's house. At the end of this annoying job, moving in didn't seem that terrible of a prospect.
Twisting around to look at the clock on the oven across the room, she discovered that she had been lying there for two hours.
It was 8:30 P.M.
Suddenly her phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Hey Liz, I just landed. I should be at Jack's place in a few hours. 10:30 or 11 maybe?"
"Ok, I will text you the address. You can park your rental car down in the garage. Jack has a spot set aside."
"Ok. I can't wait to meet him."
"Be careful. He's mine," she said in a sing-song voice.
"Oh, amiga, I keep telling you that I wouldn't dream of trying to steal him from you. See you soon."
"Ok, bye."
She tapped the end button on the call just as Jack came up from downstairs, his hair a bit mussed up, more curly than usual. He was wearing a pair of gray jeans and a red Assassin's Creed t-shirt.
"She just land?"
"Yeah, she'll be here in a few hours."
"Did you tell her that she can park in the garage?"
"No, I told her to park in the forest and to mind the mosquitoes."
He laughed as he poured himself a glass of merlot.
"Is she getting a rental car?"
"No, she is walking all the way from the airport. By a couple of hours, I actually meant she'll be here tomorrow morning."
"God, I love your sarcasm."
She scowled when she realized that he was asking obvious questions on purpose.
"And you're annoying. Pour me a glass."
"What am I, your slave?"
She twisted around again to look at him, making a whipping motion with her hand, accompanying it with a little sound effect.
"Maybe. Do I have to say please?"
"Get on your knees and beg, more like."
"Jack, if I have to get on my knees, it's for one specific purpose, and it's not begging."
The couch sagged when she sat up and rotated so that she was facing the kitchen. She found him staring at her over the top of his wine glass as he took a sip, and gave him an overly-bright smile when he raked a hand through his hair. "There will certainly be someone begging, but it wouldn't be me," she added under her breath.
"Fine, I'll pour you a glass, your majesty," he muttered after he swallowed, pushing his lips out in faux annoyance. "And I don't beg."
"Uh huh."
She had plenty of memories from being the Pirate King, ranging from commanding her own fleet of ships, holding meetings in the council room, breaking up arguments in the council room, entertaining youngsters that always frolicked to and fro throughout the city, holding celebrations of all kinds, and of course, placing a fear of pirates into the hearts of all who opposed them.
But the one thing that had felt off to her almost right away after Will left was being in command of Jack. It certainly wasn't that he had been difficult to command, or beneath her to command, but she had rather felt he was more her equal than her subordinate, especially after their relationship graduated past steamy glances across the table, and dinner conversations that steered towards topics that friends wouldn't dare bring up.
After one particularly entertaining night that involved losing a card game against Captain Teague, she had brought the matter up to Jack in her cabin.
"Has there ever been a situation where there was a suggestion of two Pirate Kings?"
He looked up from where he was perched on her bed examining his rings, his hair trinkets clinking together.
"Two? Do you really think that with it being hard enough to elect one that they would ever have two?"
She started to strip off her uniform, a handsome black leather vest set, with black breeches and a black coat, down to just the breeches and white shirt she wore, a small gold necklace dangling just above her breasts.
"No, I suppose not."
"Why do you ask?"
Sighing, she walked over to the bed and sat down next to him, fidgeting with her shirt.
"I don't like commanding you. It doesn't...feel right."
"...Oh."
He sounded confused, as though he didn't know how to respond.
"It's just that with us being...whatever this is, it doesn't feel appropriate to be in charge of you."
"Lizzie, I voted for you knowing full well that I was going to be under your command-"
"Yes, I realize that, but I would prefer-"
She stopped, taking his hand in hers, playing with his fingers, and prepared for the argument that she was sure was going to bloom. They always had trouble talking about sensitive matters.
"I would prefer it if you would rule with me."
"What, like a joint thing?" he asked before the gravity of her request sunk in.
"Something like that, yes."
"So, we would both be kings then?"
"It would make the most sense. We would have equal authority over the Brethren, and the only decision that absolutely needs both of our approval would be a declaration of war."
"Lizzie...are you sure about this?"
She detected some hesitancy in his tone, as though he suspected that there was some kind of ulterior motive, or trickery wrapped up in her request. She also detected that he had skillfully maneuvered his head closer and closer to hers.
"Yes, I'm sure. You sound...like you don't agree."
"I just...I hope you don't feel pressured into doing this, that's all."
"Pressured? By what?"
"I didn't intend on intruding on your authority when-"
"Jack, I was the one that dragged you up here, not the other way around. Did you not hear a single word I said? I want you next to me, and I would still want it whether we had a physical relationship or not."
He brought her hand to his mouth, kissing her fingers.
"You realize that this is going to confirm that we are...involved, right?" he asked between kisses.
"Confirm it to who? Who do you think doesn't already know? Certainly, no one that resides here."
"I suppose it is hard to miss when you order me to your cabin at strange hours. And you aren't exactly quiet sometimes."
"Well, that's your fault."
He was close enough to kiss her now, close enough for her to count his dark eyelashes, which were far too long to be on a man, but then again, everything about him was a beauty not seen on most men.
"Mmm…"
And then he did take her mouth, her chest constricting with the immediate moan that she gave him as his tongue found its way inside, his clever hands winding around her back to push her into him.
She had wondered since their first...encounter, more than three weeks ago, if that initial pleasure, that satisfaction at finally having him would fade with each subsequent time, but after having collected enough evidence, in that each damn time he nearly made her heart vacate her body with the pleasure that gripped it regardless of what it was that he was doing, she had decided that no, not only was it not going to fade, it was going to expand, bloom, like a wildfire out of control.
And he bloody knew it, the scoundrel, taking every opportunity to demonstrate how wild he could make her.
Just as he was doing now as he maneuvered her back onto the bed, lifting her shirt off of her at the same time, and in the next breath, swooping down to take a hardened nipple into his warm mouth. Her head went back, a long sigh emitting from her, and a grin from him as she tangled her fingers into his hair.
His hand came up to play with the breast that he had just abandoned as he switched to the other, and it only made the ache between her legs almost uncomfortable.
"So...oh...so you accept the...proposition?" It was difficult to remember what words sounded like.
Nimble fingers disappeared between them to undo the laces of her breeches, and she wiggled her hips to help him pull them down.
"I certainly don't see an argument against it," he said as he slid down her body, coming to kneel between her legs, her hips sitting at the edge of the bed.
"Oh, oh, that's...that's good," and she wasn't even sure what she was referring to anymore because he had attached his mouth to her, letting his tongue play across her slick folds, his hands kneading her thighs. She marveled at how he could bring her body to such a state of arousal so quickly, like a master musician plucking at a harp.
He liked to tease her, liked to dance his tongue around her clit, before returning back down to dip it inside of her, repeating this frustrating restraint until she was damn near shouting at him to give her what she wanted.
"...Jack...dammit, please…"
"No, you see Lizzie, we have equal authority now, you can't order me around anymore."
The tone of his voice held such a satisfied smugness, one that he knew got on her last nerve.
"Nevermind, nevermind the agreement...I need…oh god yes..."
He had just slid two fingers inside of her, painfully slowly, drawing out the friction, and then finally gave in, fastening his mouth to her clit with fervor, swirling his tongue around it, even nibbling with his teeth ever so slightly, making her stomach constrict as he drifted his fingers across it with his other hand, then balancing her legs on his shoulders.
"...Oh god, that feels so bloody good…"
The two fingers inside of her curled up, stroking her there too, and she could feel more moisture coating them, only fueling the pace at which she was turning into something not even human, just a mass of pleasure and energy as her head thrashed back and forth, sweat forming a fine sheen on her skin, her hips bucking against his mouth.
Her moans turned into ragged whimpers, spilling out of her when he started to thrust his fingers in long strokes, his thumb moving at a furious circular pace, the knot in her loins tightening to an unbelievable intensity.
"Jack...Jack...almost..."
Just as she nearly scaled that impossible peak, just as she felt the spreading heat blooming out from her clit to every nerve ending in her body, he stopped, stone cold stopped, withdrawing his fingers from her, detaching his mouth, letting her legs down, and she caught an evil little smile spreading across his lips.
"...you damn bastard…" was all she could force past her lips through her wheezing frustrated breaths, her head flopping back against the bed.
"Mmm, Lizzie, delaying it always makes it better in the end."
She heard the rough friction of fabric rubbing together, and almost came anyway when she saw how hard he was for her. Thanking the gods for the 875th time that month that she had such a creature as Jack for a bedfellow, she scooted around so that she had a pillow under her head and sighed as he settled his wiry muscular form across her lithe body, nearly biting her own tongue when his fingers returned to play with her clit, the remnants of her almost-orgasm firing through her.
"If you don't bloody get inside of me I'll just demote you. You'll be nothing more than a miserable sod scrubbing the floor next to my throne."
He chuckled against her lips, nipping the bottom one playfully.
"Well, we can't have that, can we."
He reached down to place himself at her entrance, her thighs clenching in anticipation. When he started to slide in, so bloody slowly that she thought she might die, her mouth dropped open in a silent moan of ecstasy, her nails creating little half-moons on his shoulders. His voice lowered a couple of octaves when he breathed an 'oh my god' into her neck once he was fully sheathed, betraying the cool facade he put on, letting her know that her body made him just as undone as he did to her.
In her silent musings on the physical mechanics of sex, she had wondered if the size of a man mattered, or if it was really only the skill of the wielder. In her not so silent musings, she had dared to ask Jack that exact question a week ago, and it had earned her one of a string of genuine laughs that made her toes curl. He loved her curiosity and frequently told her so every time she questioned him on such things.
"You do a number on a man's self-confidence, love," he had said once he had calmed down. She was quick to reassure him that he was more than adequate, to which he replied in that damn smug tone of his that he knew perfectly well how adequate he was.
"Certainly the skill, though, I would think. I mean, unless...I don't know...unless it's…"
He had stopped, choosing instead to demonstrate a length of about three inches with his fingers, earning him a whooping laugh.
With him inside of her now, and every time prior to now, she was confident far beyond a reasonable doubt that he was more than three inches, and that his skill was probably matched by no one. He hadn't moved yet, and she wondered whether he was trying to kill himself, because usually even waiting a second was torturous for him. No matter, because just being able to feel him there, feel every ridge of his length, the throbbing, the heat, the closeness, it was almost as good as the friction of it.
"Jack?" she questioned quietly, trailing her fingers down his back, tracing the scars there. He raised his head to stare down at her, the ends of his hair tickling her shoulders.
"...I just...we always get started so fast that I never get a chance to really just enjoy your presence like this. Sometimes I wonder if it's even real still."
She didn't respond right away, only exhaled slowly, the words 'I love you' on the tip of her tongue, and every other synonym waiting behind them, but she couldn't bring herself to say them, couldn't ruin this thing they had, if that level of commitment wasn't what Jack wanted.
Instead, she tightened her inner muscles around him, watching as his eyes slipped closed, his mouth going just a bit slack.
"It's real, Jack."
A silent 'thank you' warmed his eyes when he opened them again. She was saddened by the fact that he always needed reassurance that she wasn't going to suddenly change her mind and run back to Will, or decide that he wasn't worth her time after all, but she forgot all about how emotions even worked when he gave her a slow thrust, capturing her lips in a tender caress, welcoming her sigh into his mouth.
She did love him, had loved him ever since he had dragged her out of the water, even if she hadn't known it yet, just before pointing his pistol at her head while forcing her to arm him with his effects. But even then, she had not felt even a smidgen of fear, and if she were to freely admit it, it was desire that took the place of the fear that a woman should have felt in that situation.
But admitting that to him, telling him that she loved him, felt like turning the page in a book that they were only a paragraph into. It wasn't time for that next step.
Would it ever be time?
"...oh, Jack...how…"
His thrusts were still slow, languid, like he was trying to draw out every bit of pleasure from her that he could. Once in awhile he did this, this maddening slow pace, building up the anticipation, until it was all she could do to not push on his arse with her hands, or thrust against him, or some other method to coax him into moving faster within her.
But when he did, when he surprised her usually by suddenly burying himself in her with a swift jerk of his hips, it was like a dam being broken for all of the heat that flooded her core, exploding back through the rest of her body, just like it was doing now.
"How what, love?" he answered with a question, his voice raspy and shaky against the skin of her chest where he was currently leaving little red marks with his mouth. She responded with a shaky laugh of her own, memorizing all of the ridges of his back with her hands as he moved within her, increasing the speed of his thrusts a fraction at a time.
"...how...oh god...how do you make me feel like this…"
It was a wonder that she could speak at all with the growing scorching heat reaching a boiling point inside of her as his movements became almost sharp in their intensity, and she responded gratefully when he offered his mouth to her for some kind of grounding.
"...fuck, fuck, fuck…" he chanted as he tore it away almost immediately after, letting it rest against her cheek as his hands gripped her legs to raise them higher, changing the angle, hitting that glorious spot inside of her that made stars flash in front of her eyes, then releasing them to wrap his arms around her, her cries getting louder, and she was sure that she had clawed his back ragged by now, not that he had ever minded.
"...Jack...close...oh...almost…"
He reached down, somehow summoning the mental fortitude to rub his thumb across her clit, and it was that one final touch that sent her careening over the edge into the abyss, her nails digging into his back, earning her a deep growl as his thrusts became erratic, matching the rhythm of her pulsating core. The second she had a moment of clarity, she raised her head and latched onto his neck, angling her hips the way she knew he liked, and then released his skin to whisper into his ear, feeling brave.
"You like how tight I feel don't you?"
He responded by pushing his mouth against hers in a bruising kiss, tearing it away again a second later to bury his head in her neck, thrusting into her hard once, twice, before his body went rigid, barely having time to withdraw as he came, a beautiful raw sound coming out of him.
She loved it when he finished during sex, almost more than her own orgasm. Just knowing that he had reached that peak, that height because of her made her feel warm inside, almost proud.
He lay atop of her until his heart slowed to a reasonable level, his head nestled between her breasts and then he lifted it to give her a lazy smile, a content look on his face.
"Getting brave, are we? And to answer your question, I do."
HIs voice was gravely from their activities, sending goosebumps across her skin. He chuckled when she tugged him up for a hug before he got up to get a damp washcloth to wipe off the mess he made.
When he got back in bed, he gathered her into his arms. She had discovered that lying there in his warm embrace just snuggling was almost as satisfying.
"I accept your proposition then, your majesty," he whispered into her hair, earning him a giggle.
"You don't need to call me that anymore. Not that you had used the title properly before anyway."
"So what should I call you?"
"Just Lizzie, like you always have."
He looked like he wanted to say something else, then shook his head, rolling into his back.
"Goodnight, love."
"Goodnight."
That particular night had certainly become entertaining for far different reasons besides a card game.
It had also been the first of many nights that she had come close to telling him that she loved him, before shying away. Breathing a sigh of relief, she remembered that they had sorted that out. She could tell him that she loved him anytime she wanted, and it was magical.
And the theme of them being equal in everything they did continued. They always did an equal amount of work for any joint job, they got an equal share of the award money, and Jack always made sure to give her half of whatever treat he happened to be snacking on at any given time. The man was a fiend for chocolate.
"What're you thinking about, hm?" he asked as he sat down on the couch opposite her, handing her the wine glass.
"The night where we decided that we would co-rule the Cove."
"Ahh, that was a long time ago, but it was a fun night, wasn't it?"
A cute little smirk almost twitched the corner of her mouth up, but she somehow managed to keep a straight face.
"Mhm, card games with your father were always fun."
"...Card games?"
"That's what I said."
He leaned back into the couch, glaring playfully at her.
"Careful, I might just take your wine back."
She finally allowed a smirk.
"Come over here and try."
Unfortunately, his phone rang right at that moment. It was Chris.
She opened her phone up and scrolled through her news app, looking for anything interesting to read.
Chinese diplomats arguing, Cheeto-face signing another idiotic law, more about police brutality, something about a 'greener future', there was nothing good.
That was at least until she happened upon an article that actually caught her attention.
Some props company in the United States was investing 30 million dollars into rebuilding historic ships. The first one was apparently a ship called the Virginia, originally built in 1607. She scrolled through the rest of the short article, finding nothing else of interest.
Wouldn't it be something if they were to build the Pearl? That wouldn't be realistic of course, since they didn't have any reference to go off of, and she doubted that they would build a pirate ship anyways unless an outside buyer paid for it.
A beat went by, then another beat, before her brain caught up with her thought process.
An outside buyer.
If they paid for it.
She...she remembered enough of what it looked like to guide them, and Jack had that almost-replica in his bedroom to fill in any gaps.
An outside buyer.
Oh my god.
Looking across the couch at him talking animatedly to Chris, she remembered the anguish that he had experienced when his ship had finally sunk for good. It had been an attack on the Cove by the Royal Navy just a year after they had found the Fountain. They had been caught completely off guard by it, and by the time they had mustered enough defenses to fight them off, the Pearl was already halfway under.
The completely unguarded look of shock on his face had broken her heart, and that was the first and only time since then that she had ever seen him cry.
He had locked himself in her bedroom for a week straight after that, refusing to come out for anything. He wouldn't even let her in or talk to her. He wouldn't talk to anyone. She had put her foot down when he nearly gave himself alcohol poisoning. Even the following year, he wasn't the same. She rarely saw him smile, and if he did smile, it was only at her when he was too sleep-addled to remember, and he was a lot more short tempered, shouting at everyone that wasn't her if they so much as got in his way while walking around.
What if...oh god it was a crazy idea, absolutely insane, but oh my god if it was actually a plausible thing that she could do...
Just picturing the reveal to him almost brought tears to her eyes. She quickly googled how much it would cost to re-build a pirate ship, and surprisingly found a clear answer right away.
Twelve million dollars.
Her heart sunk.
She didn't have twelve million dollars.
The idea perished just as quickly as it had come, suddenly making her feel exhausted.
"Ok, see ya."
"What did Chris have to say?" she asked, unable to keep the dejected tone out of her voice.
"He was arranging to pick up the McLaren tomorrow. You sound sad."
"I'm not sad. Just tired."
"You don't sound tired. You sound sad. What's up?"
She glared at him with more aggression than she meant to.
"Nothing. Just drop it, ok?"
His hands went up in surrender.
"Ok, ok, well whenever you want to talk about it then, if you do."
She was still wallowing on the couch when a knock at the door made her jump.
"Come in!" she shouted loud enough for Ringa to hear.
When the door opened, in walked a woman that looked like she had come straight out of the heart of Mexico, despite being in New York last. She was wearing red capris, a button up silk shirt with jungle patterns on it, green aviator shades, what looked like 35 different necklaces, and flip flops.
Her long black hair was curled beautifully, and her complexion was a perfect shade of caramel.
The sadness left her for a moment when she jumped up to give Ringa a hug, nearly being suffocated by the smell of the fruity shampoo that she used.
"Hola, Liz. Wow, nice house. Muy bueno. But the house is not who I want to meet. Where is that lovely man of yours?"
She was spared from having to go find him when he presented himself, coming into the foyer from the direction of the bedroom.
"Holy shit, I didn't realize that my house had teleported itself to Cancun."
Ringa didn't say anything in response, because she was too busy staring at him once she took her sunglasses off, like that scene in Jurassic Park when they first see the dinosaurs. After a second, Jack started to get confused, sliding his eyes over to her in a silent question.
Finally, Ringa seemed to shake herself a bit.
"Lo siento, sorry, but Jesus Christ Liz, you didn't tell me he looked like a jodido maldito dios del sexo."
She stared at Ringa, before descending into a fit of laughter, doubling at Jack's response. The only picture that she had ever seen of Jack was a rather old one, and it was a photograph of him from behind while he was standing on a pier in Hawaii. She had lost the rest of the pictures she had of him in '87, two years before she met Ringa, after a water damage incident in the apartment she had been renting at the time.
Jack looked down at himself with a worried expression on his face, then back up at Ringa like she was crazy.
"What? Me? No, no, you must be mistaken. I'm like...300 years old, covered in gross wrinkles, bald, missing all of my fingers except one, I have a fake leg because I am missing one of those too, I constantly drool, and she has to help me go to the bathroom. I don't know what part of that looks or sounds like a sex god to you, but to each their own I guess."
He kept a completely straight face until she made a particularly loud squawk of laughter, and only then did he break his composure, grinning like a fool.
"Sexy, smart, and funny," Ringa exclaimed, rolling her eyes. "You are one lucky woman."
After she had finally calmed down, she properly introduced them.
"Jack, Ringa, Ringa, Jack."
Ringa enveloped Jack in one of her trademark hugs.
"Nice to meet you," he said, giving her a genuine smile, one that he only reserved for a very select few people.
"Likewise."
Once Ringa got everything that she had brought with her unpacked in the spare bedroom downstairs, she took a seat at the kitchen table.
"Do you want something to drink? Water, juice, maybe a little bit of rum?" Jack asked from in the kitchen.
"A glass of rum sounds muy delicioso, gracias," Ringa answered, flashing him a friendly smile.
"So, now that you are here, let me fill you in on what we know. Suzuki, Jack's would be-murderer, or at least attempted-murderer, apparently had something stolen from her by the Sinaloa Cartel-"
"Something, what, she didn't tell you what it was?"
"No, just that it was her property. So, in order to get it back, the Cartel asked her to retrieve a box of evidence from Scotland Yard that is apparently being used to frame them for the murder of a Japanese government official by the Yakuza. We get the box for her, she gets her property back."
"And you want to make them transport it out of the Yard so that you can intercept it? I suppose breaking in there would be next to impossible. Too much risk."
Jack handed her the glass when he sat down.
"I was told that you are a good impersonator."
"Si, I can do everything. Police officer, ambulance driver, police dispatch, the government, a crazy woman calling 911, etc."
"Good, we can use that to increase the chaos around the building. We'll get started on the specifics tomorrow."
They were laying in bed, listening to the wind blow outside. Ringa had thanked Jack for the rum again before retiring to her room.
"Still going to keep what you were upset about earlier a secret? I told you that-"
"-I don't have to be afraid to tell you anything, I know. But this is something that I really can't tell you. It's nothing that you would leave me for, certainly, like cheating or some other horrific thing, but-"
"You don't have to tell me, you have the right to do that too, I just don't like it if you feel like you are afraid of me."
"Jack, I am literally incapable of being afraid of you. I love you."
He gave her soft smile, dropping the issue again. "Love you too, darling."
After he gave her his customary goodnight kiss, they fell asleep just as it started to rain, the drops hitting the roof of the house, soothing them into blissful oblivion.
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The Scythe's Song