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Silk	By : JacksMermaid Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (All) > Het - Male/Female > Jack/Elizabeth Views: 6954 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
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.

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Silk � Chapter Eight

Warm, wrapped in blankets, lulled by the rocking of the 'Pearl. She'd fallen back to sleep after Jack had... Neatly and succinctly distracted me, she thought, suddenly coming fully awake, that's what he bloody well did. Damn. He was very good at that. But there were still discussions to be had, and she neatly dismissed the part of her brain that was trying to remind her that she, in fact, had come to him last night and that she, in fact, could be equally accused of distraction. She rolled over to an empty bed, an empty cabin. He was apparently up and about, taking care of those previously mentioned "Captain things". Suddenly, she heard a commotion outside, raised voices.

"Will," she said aloud, leaping from the bed and reaching for the breeches on the floor only to discover they were still wet. She snatched up the blankets, wrapping them tightly around her and running for the door. She had to stop them from doing anything stupid, fighting wouldn't solve anything and possibly get one or both killed. Again, she dismissed the part of her brain yammering about how much better a swordsman Will was, and she moved faster, tripping over her blanket wrapping.

The yelling outside increased and she flung open the cabin door... to face Pintel and Ragetti squabbling. Over something that had nothing to do with her or Jack or anyone else. Oh, damn. As their bickering broke off and their appreciative gazes turned to her, she found she had absolutely no voice at all. And then she saw several other pairs of curious and appraising eyes turn her way from across the deck, and she bolted back inside, slamming the door shut behind her. "I'm quite certain that was one of the more foolish things I've done," she said to the empty cabin, and then a single breathless laugh escaped her lips. Followed, of course, by several moments of hysterical laughter. I really must break this recent habit of hysterics, she told herself. See what happens when you're in... No. That was a thought she was absolutely going to refuse herself to finish.

Moments later, when she'd calmed, she began to look for something to wear. She was growing extremely weary of digging through bits of Jack's clothing and her own; she really had to find more to wear. When they reached Bridgetown this evening, perhaps she could find something... Bridgetown. Will. Will was leaving, and she might not see him again. And she found that she didn't quite know how to feel about it. He'd been so hurt, so angry, and she couldn't blame him. None of this was how she'd ever envisioned it all happening. She'd wanted Jack, yes, no denying that, not anymore. And it was also true she'd decided some time ago to not marry Will, regardless; too much had changed between them. However, having it all fall apart so messily, well, that hadn't been intended. Will had said such horrible things last night, had lashed out so. She then began to remember some of the things Jack had said to her the night before. Some of the terribly awful things. Some of the positively nasty things that still needed addressing.

When Jack entered the cabin a little while later, a grin on his face and greetings for her on his lips, he stopped short. She sat at the table in a pair of his breeches and an old patched shirt of her own, her face cold as she watched him enter. "What is it?" he asked, hurrying to her side. "Did William..."

"You all but called me a whore."

He reeled back, utterly baffled. "What? When?"

She looked back at him, coldly, "After Will left last night. You implied I was a whore..." She paused and then snarled, "And you called me a coward!" Funny how that one rankled even more. "And then you distracted me last night with... with..." She threw up her hands and slammed them back down on the table.

Jack knew full well that he wasn't the sharpest blade in the armoury. He admitted to often being confused by life in general and continually bewildered by the female sex in particular. But Elizabeth had to be the most absolutely maddening specimen of that gender he had ever met. To be greeted like this now after an utterly delightful night and morning... he grit his teeth and sat down across from her. "Explain to me, darlin', just how I 'distracted' you. I seem to recall you coming back here last night and peeling your wet things off in my cabin. And you certainly didn't seem to be protesting much this morning, either."

She had the grace to blush. "Well, you were... distracting."

"Yes. You've mentioned that already." He sighed, "I had thought that your coming back here last night - and the distracting that occurred thereafter - indicated willingness on your part to kiss and make up, as it were. Clearly, I was wrong." He got out of the chair and came to stand behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders and dropping a kiss on the top of her head.

He took a very deep breath and continued, slowly, "I am... s... sorry," he ground out, stumbling over a word so seldom used, and one that was even more seldomly meant with any sincerity, "You're not a coward, haven't a cowardly bone in your charming body. I know you have yet to speak with your dear papa about all your adventures, and that won't be easy. I never meant to say that bit about... rape and such, either." He cleared his throat and then softly growled, "I tend to say things when I'm out of sorts." Understatement, that.

He heard her sigh, and he came to her side, kneeling. She looked at him, face still unreadable. He shook his head, "And I never meant to imply that you were, well, no better than you should be. I did seduce you, after all." He couldn't help but smirk a little.

"You did not." Her mouth twitched slightly. "I seduced you." Jack faltered a little, and now it was her turn to smile. She'd hadn't planned everything... had she? He suddenly reached out to her and pulled her to her feet.

"Fine. Seducing done on both sides, proper pirates, et cetera, et cetera. Now are you happy?" He bent to lightly kiss her and she let him.

"Have you seen him this morning?" she asked, softly.

He knew who she meant. "No. Keeping out of the way as I suggested, likely. Though it isn't his way to skulk, I'll give the lad that."

"Do you... do you think he's alright?"

Jack looked at her, frowning, "Alright? No, I think he is decidedly not, though I'm sure he'll come 'round eventually. You were his lady-love, after all, and he did... does... care for you. Can't be easy, I reckon." He wondered whether she realized just how badly she�d hurt the boy or whether she even fathomed the depth of the hurt.

"No," Elizabeth sighed, "I daresay not." She looked up at her pirate, then, and smiled. She reached out to brush his face with her fingertips and softly said, "But I'm still not sorry." He looked down at her as though he were going to speak and then stepped away from her, pacing across to the great window at the back of the cabin.

He turned to look at her, back lit by the sunlight coming through the window and she caught her breath. Watching him, studying every inch of him - his wild face, the long fingers, the lean frame - she thought, Yes. He's so completely worth it. Worth everything. She was absolutely certain of it.

He took a deep breath and then quickly rattled out, "Areyoucomingwithmethen?"

She stopped, cocking her head to one side and looking at him, "What?"

He forced himself to slow down, to be steady, "The 'Pearl. You, me. Us. Are you coming with me?"

Oh. The question she'd so longed to hear and now all she could do was panic again. So unsure, she could feel it threatening to overwhelm her, knew her eyes must be telling him everything... she opened her mouth to speak, and only a squeak came out.

He suddenly sprang forward, crossing the distance across the room and stopped her mouth with a long, bruising kiss. This is why, she thought dimly, why you, and not Will. Never anyone else but you.

When he pulled away, his eyes were blazing. "I'll never leave you behind in port," he said quietly, trying to impress upon her the importance of his words. "I'll never leave you and I'll never again lie to you. Well. If I can help it."

She couldn't help but smile at that last addition, even as his words were sinking in, even as she felt her eyes stupidly welling up and tried to fight it.

"No," he corrected himself, considering, "I'd lie to save your life, if it somehow meant saving you from harm, but only for a damned good reason. I'd cheat, steal or kill whenever and whoever else I had to in order to keep you safe." He took her face in his hands now, "And I'm not your settling type, I won't give up the sea, and I can't change my ways at this late date in life. But I'll never lie, cheat or leave you."

"Jack," her breath caught. He was serious. He meant it. And it shattered her.

He kissed her again, gently this time, more because he was at a loss, himself. He couldn't believe the things he was willing to say and do in order to keep her. But there it was, and he was completely helpless to stop it. He briefly mused that he'd been less afraid of facing certain death than he was in this moment, with this girl.

There were still more things to be decided and things to be said, but perhaps now was not the moment. "Take me back to bed," she whispered.

"An excellent suggestion," he answered. And then the knock came at the door just as he was lowering his mouth to hers. "You cannot be serious," he groaned.

Cotton slowly opened the door, bearing a breakfast tray. "Biscuits and bilge water!" shrieked Cotton's parrot, and Elizabeth suddenly began to laugh, helplessly. It was all too much, everything was simply too much. She sank back into the chair, chortling.

"Er, yes, thank you, Mr. Cotton. On the table, if you please." Jack gestured, and the old man set down the tray. He nodded, smiled sweetly at Elizabeth, and then left.

Jack watched Elizabeth laugh for a moment, and then couldn't help but let out a snort of laughter. Insane. They were all utterly mad, the lot of them. He continued to chuckle, sliding into his chair across from her. He smiled at her, "Well, love, you'll never be bored if you stay..." He stopped, studying her face. She was smiling back at him, and then her eyes widened and her amber eyes filled with tears. Her chin jerked, her lip quivered despite her best efforts to conceal it and he shuddered. Why did she have to crush him so when she did this? It was because she was so strong, he realized, she so rarely showed any sign of bending. Her eyes might sparkle, but the tears rarely fell. But here they came. And then the next words out of her mouth dropped him, shattered him, made him catch his breath in equal parts wonder and terror.

"I don't want to be like this," she gasped, "I don't want to be this powerless over something, I've never been this powerless.� And oh, wasn't that the truth? She'd never been so afraid in her life, not of death or danger or any of it. Until this. "I always thought love would be this romantic and beautiful and sugar-coated thing and the reality is that it's hard and it's frightening and it makes people say and do ridiculous things and act in ridiculous ways and I absolutely refuse. I won't have it. I won't do it." And that was probably the most foolish, inane thing she'd ever said in all her days, but she couldn't think clearly when he was looking at her like that, while she was pouring out her entire heart and liver onto the floor and when she was quite certain that she was about to die if he didn't say something, anything.

He could do nothing but stare at her, mouth slightly agape, eyes wide. He could think of nothing to say to this declaration of love, what he figured to be the first of his life. Oh, he'd heard it from whores who were especially appreciative and from ladies whom he helped out of minor dangers or inconveniences, but never from someone as terrifyingly real as Elizabeth Swann. I know I should be saying something, he thought dazedly, aren't I supposed to be saying something? He swallowed, still watching her. Slowly, unbidden, an amazed smile began to shape his mouth, he could feel his entire chest filling up with air. She. Loved him. The princess was in love with the nasty old beast?

And then everything in him just as suddenly shut down. No. Couldn't happen, absolutely not. It was one thing to take her along when it was all good times and mateship and having her loyalty both in bed and on the deck. But now she'd gone and said the word, the one word (next to "f" for "fatherhood") that had him wanting to set sail in terror for the farthest port from the Caribbean he could find. No good. Can't do this.

He was pacing again. He hadn't spoken. Of course not. Certainly he was fond of her or he wouldn't have gone to all the trouble he had, but anything more? Oh, no. Not Jack Sparrow. And she suddenly felt herself shrinking. "I'm sorry, Jack," she began to babble, "I'm just... womanly vapours... I know that you didn't mean... well... don't worry, I don't expect..." She'd never been a weeper, never in her whole life. It seemed that life since she'd met Jack had taught her to be. But then, she'd never wanted anything this badly in her life, either, and she again found herself swallowing back tears so fiercely that her throat burned from the pain of it. I will not. I will not cry. I will not be some stupid, weak... girl.

Suddenly, he'd swiftly crossed back to her and took her by the shoulders. "D'you remember our friend, Master Davy Jones? D'you remember what he did?" He shook her and her teeth chattered.

"Jack, I don't know what..."

"D'you remember what he did, Elizabeth? He cut out his bloody heart!" He shook her once more and then suddenly dropped his hands, stepping away from her as if she burned him. "He cut his heart out for a woman." He glanced back at her, keen-eyed, "'As untameable as the sea', Tia said." Again, he glanced at her and shook his head.

"Jack," she whispered, moving toward him. He stepped away from her, and it tore her to pieces to see it.

"I won't cut out my heart, Elizabeth. Not for you, not for anyone. Don't ask me to." He felt the slightest bit irrational when he met her shocked gaze, and then remembered who he was talking to and what she was capable of. Too much to ask, too high a price.

"Why do you think I'd ever ask," she began in astonishment, only to be interrupted again.

"I'm not good enough. I can't be what you want, love. Can't be any kind of decent fellow who..." He threw his hands up in the air. "I can't make the right choices, the decent choices."

"Who would you think you'd need to be with me? I should think you'd recall what kind of person I am, as well, what kinds of things I've done." Where was Jack Sparrow? Surely not this man who stood before her? "What are you so afraid of...?"

"I don't want to be torn up by your affection. I am not going to bloody well be sacrificed for the sake of it, nor be torn up from the lack of it. Because you're the bloody Scylla and Charybdis, and I'm lost no matter what I do!" He exploded, suddenly sweeping the table of maps and instruments, sending them crashing to the floor. She stared at him in shock, and he became quiet again. "You, my girl, are the bloody siren, and we all seem to dash ourselves on your rocks," his voice rasped, as he dropped into a chair. "And don't say you don't ask for it, or don't mean to. I know you don't. But you can't seem to help it. You are what you are. And I won't be Will or Norrington, dashed to pieces." He looked up at her with a twisted, pained smile on his lips, "You're a better pirate than I ever was, it sometimes seems. You take and you rush through life and you love what and who you love and you make your demands and you're just... so... hard sometimes. You're a bloody hurricane, you are." He paused, and his voice softened, "And, God help me, I love you for it anyway."

"Then," she began, slowly moving toward him again, and trying not to exult in what she'd just heard him say, "where, exactly, is the problem?" She reached him and took his face between her hands. "If you love me as you say... and I most assuredly can't live without you... then where is the problem?"

Again, he threw her a twisted smile, "Ah. Can't live without me doesn't really equate to love. You said you were in love, but I rather think it's the new life that you love, the freedom from your past. I seem to recall you going through two other men already, in the space of almost two years, all whilst apparently casting appreciative glances my way. I fear for my odds."

Oh, it stung. It burned to hear him speak to her like this. And yet she knew she couldn't deny anything he'd said and so she grasped at the one thing she could say, "Did you think that saying I can't live without you didn't equate to me loving you? Did you hear nothing I've said?"

"You can't bloody come out and say it either, can you?" he asked, gently. "Never thought I'd say anything of the sort to anyone, let alone you, and yet you can't even..."

She quickly reached up and kissed him. He didn't respond and she pulled back slightly so that she could look into his eyes, those dark fathomless eyes, "I have been utterly infatuated with you - and yes, that does equate to love with me, Jack - since the day we met. Much to my constant chagrin and occasional horror. And I've fought it like mad." She smiled, watched him swallow, watched his eyes darken with emotion. "But how could I not be? How could anyone not love you, knowing you?"

"I can give you a list of people as long as this ship who decidedly do not love me, darlin'," he told her, staring at her in fascination.

"Yes, well, we hate loving what we fear... and you are terribly lovable, Jack, and terribly fearsome in your way. You say that I'm a force of nature, that I take and demand and steal?" She straightened, looking down at him with eyes that blazed. "You think I am not utterly and completely terrified at the notion of leaving behind everything and sailing off with you? Even if it is what I want most? Especially knowing you as I do, and knowing how you..." She found herself suddenly, fiercely angry. She lifted her chin, "I don't want to cut out my heart either, Jack. But the funny thing is... I'm not afraid to."

He stiffened, cocking his head to one side as he looked at her. Damn it. She certainly did know how to cut him. "I think I have quite a lot to be afraid of, Miss Swann. Bloody Hurricane Lizzie, that's you. How'm I to know that in a month or a year you won't be heartily sick of the sight of me and sorry you ever came? How'm I to know that you won't regret every moment since you came into my bed?" He looked down and found his hands slightly shaking, "And how the hell'm I to know that you won't be hurt or killed with me, living this way?"

She forced herself to think clearly, to be honest, "I very well may get sick of the sight of you, some days," she said slowly, "just as you most assuredly will with me..."

"I bloody will not...!"

"And," she cut in, warning, "we'll fight, you and I. You know we will. We already do. We don't exactly play nicely."

He snorted, and crossed his arms, trying not to smile. Too right, he chuckled inwardly, already loving her. He looked down at her as she unfolded his arms with her small hands, hands that had already turned brown and calloused since her time with him. Not a lady's hands anymore, he realized, not for a very long time now. She continued, stepping into his arms, "We'll fight and have a row a day and occasionally throw things. We'll drive the crew mad. I'll become a better shot and a better navigator; you'll teach me. And I'll work beside you, as hard as any of them. I'll have your back in a fight, and I won't question your orders in front of anyone." She chuckled then, "Whether I question them later in private is another matter, you know." And then she hesitated, "And life is dangerous, no matter what. We can't live in fear worrying about 'what ifs'. You know that, Jack. You aren't like that; don't start now."

He swallowed, still silent, and she reached up to caress his cheek again, "But I will never, ever be sorry for being with you, Jack. I'll never be sorry for anything I've yet done, nor the decision I make now. I can't say I'll always be utterly glad or that there won't be days where I'll miss having a maid and a fine gown and some china to drink from... but I'll never be sorry I stayed with you."

He looked down at her, grinning now, "I can get you a bloody gown and some china, love. Just let me find the right ship..." She laughed, and he bent to kiss her. Giving up. No sense in fighting it when he didn't really want to anyway.

She pulled back to look at him, "So we're square, Captain Sparrow? I'm on the account?"

"Oh, yes," he purred, "Captain's special mate." He kissed her again, more thoroughly, and was vexed when she pulled away. She sat back down at the table, reaching for the tray Cotton had left, "Breakfast's getting cold," she grinned at Jack, reaching for the silver cover.

"By all means, Miss Swann, your fine breakfast awaits." He grinned back as they both looked at the lumpy porridge and dried fish under the elegant silver cover.

"Fine breakfast for a sailor, by all accounts," Elizabeth nodded.

"A pirate, you mean," Jack corrected her.

"Shhhhh," she whispered, looking around conspiratorially, "Someone might hear!" She smiled slyly, "We're naught but humble sailors..."

He was amazed at how free and comfortable he felt as he kissed her lightly on the neck. Decisions had been made; it would work out or it wouldn't. They'd have each other as long as... as long as they had each other. And there was an end of it. "Oh yes, you'll do. You might be a very handy ruse, for that matter, having a lady on board..." His eyes gleamed with plots and adventures, and she laughed, swiping a dab of porridge onto his nose. Which promptly led to him lifting her out of the chair and carrying her to the bed, amidst much squealing and laughter.

Outside the door, Gibbs thought it best that the two of them finish their... breakfast... before he knocked and let the Cap'n know they'd be in Bridgetown that night, if all continued well. He strode back up the deck, noting that Will was up and about. The lad was moving gingerly, as though he'd had a fair bit to drink. Don't blame him, poor kid, Gibbs thought. Still, Gibbs approved - somewhat - of the Cap'n and Miss Elizabeth. Though the two of them might drive us all mad before it's done. But who was Gibbs to nay-say two people as infatuated with each other as Jack and Miss Elizabeth? There was a spot of the old romantic yet left in him. He smiled to himself, and thought again of his own lost Jenny, who would be forever young in his mind. He'd have to tell Miss Elizabeth about her some evening, so that Jenny would live on in someone else's mind, as well.

Will stood calmly looking out at the sea before them, ignoring the pain in his head, watching the waves curling up from the bow. They'd be in Bridgetown by nightfall. He'd convince the two of them to come have a drink, say that he'd accepted it all gracefully. And then he'd show Elizabeth the truth. He'd orchestrate Jack's downfall, with very little effort whatsoever.

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AU: This was a horrible struggle for me, certainly, to show love between two people who aren't the mushy, loving, normally demonstrative types. I hope it showed in their struggle. I also fervently hope it is neither disappointing, nor out of character. Back to more typical "me" stuff -- all sex and shouting and suchlike -- soon.

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Silk