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Bet You Anything	By : Fish Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (All) > General Views: 3901 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
. .BET YOU ANYTHING. .

[CHAPTER FOUR]

Barbossa emerged from below deck, somewhat relieved to see
that most of the crew had busied themselves with arguing over who had won what
in their wagers regarding the outcome of their Captains' bet. Overhearing some
of the conversations, it occurred to him that the crew were almost equally
divided in who had their support; it had not surprised him to hear that Ragetti
had supported Elizabeth � he was certain the wooden-eyed pirate rather fancied
the fetching female Pirate 'King'. Thoughts of Elizabeth caused his eyes to
search the deck for her; they found her at the helm by the wheel hunched over
in her sitting position, body language hinting at her current fragile state.
With the ghost of a smile on his lips, the Captain made his way towards her,
his boots clunking heavily on the steps as he arrived at the helm. She did not
look at him when he stood before her, nor when he knelt beside her and observed
her unmoving form.

"Ye can pretend yer not here as long as ye want, but everythin's goin' to
be the same when ye open yer eyes again," he informed her, knowing from
the way she was acting that she was trying to shut herself off. He gathered
that the whole ordeal caused by losing their bet and being accosted by Jack had
left her highly emotional and confused, but he would not make an exception for
her when it came to his winnings. With a soft snort, he sat next to her and
observed the sun as it continued its descent in the sky. By nightfall, the
Black Pearl would be anchored away from the port in order to ensure its
immediate security � such a notorious ship was quite sought after, and not just
by Jack Sparrow, or so the years had proven. He was sure that once she felt the
ship sail away from the port she would return to the reality of her situation
and would come to accept it � she had promised him 'no fuss' after all.

Elizabeth opened her eyes when she felt the ship begin its departure from the
harbour, but did not make any move to get up. She felt Barbossa's presence at
the wheel and turned away from him to stare out at the still waters of the sea;
she knew what she had to do, and she knew she had promised 'no fuss', but still
she could not get her head around why he wanted such a thing from her... who
was he to demand such a prize? She considered that if she were betting for a
prize of lesser value herself, he might have lowered the value of his own
requested prize. Deciding that placing blame was going to get her nowhere, she
resigned herself to the fact that she would just have to think on her feet and
go along with Barbossa until she thought of something brilliant enough to get
her out of giving him his winnings. Sounds like a plan... She heard
Barbossa call Pintel and Ragetti to man the wheel and ensure that the anchoring
of the Pearl went smoothly. Here we go.

Resolutely Elizabeth stood, ignoring Barbossa's leer and the 'gentlemanly'
gesture in his proffered arm, and took a small measure of comfort in his
irritated growl; just because she lost he apparently expected her to fold
completely and do as he wished, but she knew if he were to get his own way he
would have to work for it and she would most definitely go down fighting. With
her jaw set in determination she fell into step alongside the older Captain and
descended from the helm. As they made their way across the deck, she noted the
first star in the sky twinkling at her, and in that brief moment she wished for
her 'punishment' for be over as quickly as possible. Before she knew it, they
stood at the top of the few steps leading to the door of the Captains'
quarters.

"After you," he said with a sweeping gesture indicating that she
should descend the stairs before him; she surmised that he did so to ensure
that she should not attempt to escape.

"Go to Hell, Barbossa," she spat before making her way down to the
cabin door.

"Been there, done it all, Missy," he retorted in a low, even voice.
She turned where she stood to see a smile she could only describe as evil
spreading across his wicked features. Turning away from him, she twisted the
handle of the door and violently shoved it open with such force that it slammed
against the wall and rebounded, only to be halted by Barbossa's large hand. He
fixed her with a dangerous glare. "That yer not best pleased with me does not
give ye permission to be goin' about doin' damage to me ship."

"Our ship," she retorted acidly.

"If she be our ship, then ye'd best start showin' 'er some
respect!" he snapped, raising his voice. There were certain things he
would not tolerate, and having the Pearl abused by a Governor's daughter was
one of them.

"Are you going to hold the door open all night or are you going to take
your winnings and get this over and done with?" she questioned
impatiently, shifting her weight from one booted foot to the other. He stepped
further into the cabin and closed the door quietly before facing her once more.

"Not until we're anchored," he informed her before moving over to the
table and reaching into the fruit bowl which was overfilled with apples and
bananas. "Apple?" he offered in a tone of mock menace for old time's
sake. Elizabeth snorted indignantly, unappreciative of the joke.

After a beat of silence she spoke once more. "Are you going to make me
wear that wretched dress too? You might as well, seeing as you're so determined
to humiliate me."

"Tempting as it be, I think not. T'would be too much hassle to have ye all
dressed up," he replied coolly, amusement dancing in his eyes as they
reflected the flickering candlelight.

Elizabeth felt herself overcome by a wave of numbness, crashing over her in an
all-consuming tsunami, as she considered her situation. All because of a
bloody feather, she thought bitterly once more, all too aware of how
intently Barbossa was watching her. Something deep in the recesses of her mind
snapped then, and her composure caved completely as she gave in to the
primitive urge to defend herself and leapt at him with a blood-curdling shriek,
catching him off-guard. She screeched at him, words unintelligible, but
effectively communicated exactly how she felt through her biting, scratching
and stellar attempts to kick and hit out at him with fists, elbows, knees and
feet. Barbossa blocked and dodged her flailing limbs with relative ease and
wrapped his arms about her waist to lift and turn her away from him in order to
render her attack ineffective. He had not considered just how much of a blind
rage she was in however, and found her scratching at his arms before she
twisted herself around in his grip to scratch at his face and proceeded to
stamp a booted foot down hard on his instep. With an outraged roar he brought
his hand from her waist and raised it, delivering a backhanded blow to the side
of her face that sent her sprawling across the rough boards of the floor.

With one hand covering her stinging cheek and blood seeping from her split lip,
she glared at him from her position on the floor. If looks could kill,
he thought to himself with absolutely no remorse for his violence towards her.
The silence in the cabin hung in the air, heavy with fierce words waiting to be
vocalised. It was but one word that broke the silence, uttered by the Pirate
King, who was running out of ideas and the energy to fight.

"Stop," she almost whispered.

"Ye gave yer word, Captain Turner, and ye got yerself into this; there's
but one way to get yerself out."

"Stop," she repeated as quietly as before.

"Given yer current situation, I find meself somewhat disinclined to
acquiesce to your request," he replied, a lecherous smirk on his face.
Elizabeth's shoulders fell, but still she refused to fold. As she heard the
shouts of the crewmen on deck, she surmised that she had little time to think
of how she could get herself out of allowing Barbossa his winnings. Tasting the
iron of the blood from her lip as she gently massaged her numb cheek, she found
her resilience returning slowly but surely. "There goes the anchor,"
Barbossa commented, striding past her still form to move the Chinese screen out
of his way, folding it carefully and returning it to its rightful place against
the wall. He wished to ensure there were no obstructions as he took his
winnings. The clunking of the heavy anchor's chain halted, signalling that the
ship was secure, and the noise of the pirates moved below deck once more.
Smiling to himself, he proceeded to remove his weapons, setting them down on
one of the desks. "Come here," he ordered gruffly. Elizabeth did not
move a muscle at his command. Barbossa repeated himself, only to receive the
same total lack of response. An ice-fire ignited within the depths of his eyes
as he strode over to her and hoisted her none too gently to her feet, dragging
her deadweight over to the bed before unceremoniously throwing her on to it.
"Ye won't be keepin' this up fer long," he informed her, bending where
he stood to remove his boots.

"You can take my body, but you will never have my heart," Elizabeth
said by way of reply, remaining still on the firm mattress. She was surprised
at her own voice, that it did not betray how utterly powerless she felt
inwardly, and decided to keep up the only form of resistance she had been able
to think of, though she knew it would not put off the inevitable.

"Oh aye," Barbossa chuckled, "'tis a fact for which I'm
glad." He knelt on the bed beside her and began to unlace the front of her
shirt. "I'm not after yer heart, missy." With a leer, he pushed her
long-coat from her shoulders, then moved down her body and slid off the
mattress in order to remove her boots. As she felt his gaze move from her face
to the fastenings on her footwear she recognised what was likely to be her last
chance at a break for freedom. She lifted her head and observed as the feared
pirate Captain struggled with the same boot and, with a cold smile playing upon
her lips, she raised her free foot and with as much force as possible given her
awkward position she proceeded to kick her captor in the face. As he reeled
backwards with a pained roar, Elizabeth delivered another blow to his side. He
lunged for her then, clutching his midriff, his face a violent shade of
scarlet, eyes wild and yellow teeth bared; but for all his suddenly savage
appearance she found it almost too easy to bring both feet up to kick against
both his chest and midriff, effectively winding him.

As Barbossa lay on the floor gasping for air, nose gushing with blood, she saw
her window of opportunity and made a mad dash for the door. Wrenching it open
she ran up the stairs two at a time and all but sprinted to the helm whereupon
she collapsed into a flood of tears at her temporary freedom, and also in fear
at the consequence she would likely face for her behaviour.

She stopped her sobbing to listen for the sound of heavy and uneven footfalls
or a roughened shout. Even a gunshot was more likely than what she heard �
nothing but the sea and the occasional creaking of the Pearl reached her ears.

I've killed him, she thought, and promptly began to panic.
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