Adult-FanFiction.org : Movies

Unto Your Lives' End	By : EvilE Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (All) > General Views: 2610 -:- 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
- 1
- 2
Title: Unto Your Lives' End

Summary: Post-DMC. “Jack, will you marry us?”... and till death do us part.

Disclaimer: Don't own these characters, Disney does. Not making any money here.

Best Betas Ever: nelson_bannaba and jacksmermaid

Inspiration: Persistent rumors of a wedding in AWE. The only answer to that? J/W/E...

Chapters: 3, words = 11800

Rating: A world of NC-17.

Chapter 1: The Day

Will Turner tossed fitfully in his hammock, caught between dream and memory.

It's not that I want to die, he was saying to Jack, as they sat with their backs to the rail, sharing a bottle of rum under a starry sky. I just don't want anyone else to die, either.

Dying's not so bad, said Jack. Only problem is, some things you can only do while you're alive.

A look passed between them, brief, but potent. Will didn't know what the look meant, nor was he sure about what Jack had just said... but he was afraid to ask. He sipped the rum, but couldn't taste it.

Jack, when you... when you died, did you regret the things you realized you hadn't done?

Jack regarded him, his dark eyes mysterious as the night, as black as the seas that surrounded them. Only one or two of them, mate, he'd said, and taken the bottle of rum from Will, his hand brushing Will's as he grasped the neck of the bottle in a firm gesture, the confidence of which was utterly male. Will snatched back his hand as though he'd been burned.

He means Elizabeth, Will thought as he watched Jack tip his head back, taking a long drink of the rum. He wants her... maybe as much as I do. Maybe more. He was silent as Jack drew his hand across his lips to wipe them of any remaining rum. He then held the bottle out to Will, again.

Will moaned in his sleep. It was a terrible dream to be having on this particular day.

* * *

Elizabeth Swann was experiencing something entirely new.

The sheets at her back were soft and warm. And she was not alone. He kissed her, his goatee tickling her chin. She giggled with pleasure as he nibbled along her jaw and down her neck to her breast. She was being naughty, she thought, but she was allowed to be naughty, now... she was married. When she knew he was taking her nipple in his mouth, she gasped, feeling fiery sparks shoot through her insides. And yet, she couldn't feel his lips or tongue upon her. She opened her eyes to see what the matter was.

“Jack!” she gasped in surprise. “Jack, what are you doing here? Where's Will?” Jack only looked at her, his dark eyes alight with mischief.

“Here,” said Will from her other side, leaning down to lower his mouth to her other breast. She looked in disbelief from one man to the other, as they both suckled her breasts, but she couldn't feel it... still that fire licked at her insides, through her confusion. She opened her eyes.

She was alone in the pale light of dawn, breathing hard. Another one of those dreams. She laid a hand on her belly, where she still burned, and sighed.

Today was the day she was going to be married.

* * *

Jack lay in his bed, flat on his back. He was wide awake. He had not slept at all, not even after retiring to his cabin later than usual, after leaving Cotton at the helm and talking with Will for a good while before heading off to bed. They'd done that often lately; talked when few others were about, and it was quiet out on the deck. He couldn't help noticing that Will was generous and even nice to him.

Not too nice. Will still had some pirate in him. Brutal thrusts into the air with his sword, as though practicing battle with an unseen enemy. Looks at Jack as though he were memorizing him. The way one looks at something that must be put aside, left behind forever.

Jack didn't mind. People did strange things when they suddenly began to think about their own death.

He recalled how Will had found him alone on deck, late at night some days before, and asked to share his rum. He'd done that a lot lately, ever since they'd gotten him and the Pearl back - traded Barbossa for both, and he never knew what hit him - and Will realized his next step was to honor his promise to his father. A very perilous situation, that. Will had begun to drink more, it seemed to Jack, from the moment he realized just how dangerous it would be, not just for him, but for all of them, should they attempt to engage the Flying Dutchman in battle. That was why Will had decided he was going alone. He would do what he could to win his father's freedom, by the point of a sword if necessary. A foolhardy endeavor, in Jack's opinion, but Will would have none of it. He'd insisted he would go, and go alone, with only one request.

Jack, I want you to marry us, he'd said, his brown eyes moving back and forth over the sea.

Jack had chuckled. Never imagined I'd be asked to marry one person in this world, let alone two, he'd joked. Will had turned eyes upon him that were deadly serious.

I know it won't be a legal marriage, he'd replied, but it means something to Elizabeth. Just to have it, to be married in our hearts, before I go. When I come back and we go home, we can have the 'real' one. But I know this is what she wants.

When he'd put it like that, Jack could hardly refuse. He was the captain, and the responsibility fell to him. No matter if the thought made him ill. Oh, he could have demurred - since it wasn't a real wedding, after all, anyone could have done it - anyone who was literate enough to read from the tattered book he kept in his cabin, that is. But somehow, even though it pained him, he could not let anyone else do it. It was only right that he should join them; after all, he was the reason they'd ever gotten engaged in the first place.

And the weight of what he was about to do pressed down on his shoulders. It was little wonder that he couldn't sleep.

Today was the day of the wedding.

* * *

She smoothed her skirt beneath her hands. It was nowhere near as fine as the first wedding dress she'd had, but it was a dress - Jack had procured it when they'd made port a few days before - and she felt, at least, like a bride. It was light blue, the color of the morning sky. She took one last breath before opening the door.

Jack stood there, his arms folded, leaning against a wall on the quarterdeck. When he heard the door, he turned to look at her. She watched his eyes soften with admiration as he took her in from hem to shoulder, before his dark eyes rested on her face. “Not too bad, considering,” was all he said.

She regarded him, too taken aback by his appearance to even notice his rudeness. “Jack - you're - you're clean,” she said in total disbelief. She stared at him, certain that if he hadn't spoken, she'd hardly have recognized him. He wore boots and his usual faded black breeches, but his shirt - it had never looked whiter - was tucked into them, while a black tunic with shinier buttons than she remembered seeing was buttoned on top... her eyes rose... was that a cravat? Or an attempt at one, at least, some kind of white fabric layered and folded to look like one, at his bronzed throat. And his hair - it was not loose - it was gathered in a giant bunch low behind his neck, tied with a thin leather cord, while his usual red bandanna had been exchanged for a black one, given the solemnity of the occasion. A few beaded strands of hair still escaped the scarf and ponytail to remind her that he was still Jack, after all. He was just Jack, who'd cared enough to dress up. For her. For all of them. He watched her stare, her mouth going dry, and a slight smile played about his lips before he answered her accusation. “Shh,” he said, winking at her. “Cleaner, don't know 'bout 'clean', exactly... and hush, or you'll ruin my reputation entirely.”

She was speechless, and so she walked to him and pressed a kiss upon his cheek, missing the widening of his eyes in reaction.

“I know it's not a real wedding,” he said, turning his head to inhale against her hair before she withdrew. “But we'll do our best, won't we?”

She nodded, still looking at him. His face, brown from the sun, made the whites of his eyes seem brighter in the late morning sunlight, and then his irises darker by comparison... he was a study of opposites, Jack, one that continually fascinated her.

“Are you ready, love?” He was looking at her intently. She felt the warmth of his eyes all the way to her core.

“Yes,” she said.

“Are you certain?” He raised a hand to brush his fingertips over her cheek, his eyes falling to where a lock of hair had escaped her slipshod coiffure and blew in the breeze. “You're sure this is what you really want?”

She hesitated, and he saw it. Naturally, he'd notice. He was still Jack, even clean...er. She saw the evidence of her hesitation in the thoughtful way his eyes perused her face, in the way his hands fell to his forearms as he folded his arms across his chest. She thought about Will, too, and what she was about to do. Then she sighed, and nodded. “Yes.”

Gibbs appeared at Jack's side. “Well, ye do make a fine bride, Miss Elizabeth, if ye don't mind me sayin' so.”

“Thank you, Mr. Gibbs,” she said with a warm smile. “I do believe that's the first proper compliment I've received today.”

“If it's proper you want, love, I'd best be turning this ship around, and fast,” Jack whispered in her right ear as she took Gibbs' arm with her left.

“There'll be no 'turning about' today, Captain - no matter how much you might wish it,” she hissed back.

He grinned. “All right, then, love. Careful not to trip o' that board that sticks up. Just like we rehearsed.”

She began to walk, slowly, across the deck, on Gibbs' arm. Several crewmen struck up a melody on a guitar and hornpipe. She took a very deep breath, and focused on walking. Jack had left her side and was moving quickly so that he'd be standing at their makeshift altar by the time she arrived.

After she stepped lightly over the protruding board, she looked up again.

Will stood there, watching her, looking handsomer than ever. She smiled. And why shouldn't she smile, even though the butterflies in her stomach were doing somersaults? She was going to be married. It should be the happiest day of her life.

* * *

Jack watched her approach, mentally revisiting the chain of events that had landed him, here, performing the wedding ceremony of the woman he loved, to the man she loved - which was not, of course, him.

I only love her a little, he told himself, feeling his breath catch as the sunlight shone off of the pale silk of her gown. Just a tiny bit. Surely it would fade, in time.

With an oddly strong sense of possessiveness, Jack looked upon both of them as they slowly turned to face him, love shining in their young eyes. Yes, love... may they enjoy it while it lasted. The musicians ceased playing. All grew quiet on deck, except for the rocking of the ship and the sloshing of gentle waves. Jack cleared his throat, slipping his finger inside the book of rites, telling himself never to fear, even if he was impersonating a man of the cloth. It wasn't as if it were the first time.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this-“ He glanced around at the assembled group of pirates, certain the word 'congregation' was a gross misnomer. “-crew, to join together this Man and this Woman in holy Matrimony; which is an honorable estate...” He skimmed the paragraph, noting the repetition of certain theological terms he studiously avoided, and skipped several parts. “... not by any to be enterprised, nor taken in hand, unadvisedly, lightly, or wantonly, to satisfy men's carnal lusts and...” He felt sweat pop out on his brow at the term 'carnal lusts', his eyes inadvertently flicking to the gentle swells of Elizabeth's bosom above the neckline of her gown. “...appetites, like brute beasts that have no understanding...” He looked up at them. They stared back. “Let's just come to the point, shall we?” He jumped down several lines. “If any man can show any just cause, why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter forever hold his peace.”

Elizabeth and Will waited patiently. Gibbs hastily cleared his throat. Several others shifted on their feet, looking uncomfortable, but Jack still regarded everyone, as though half-expecting someone to speak. Silently willing someone, anyone to say something and stop this... but no one did. No one could. The silence grew deafening, before Jack - the monkey - raised his hand, screeching, from the rigging above their heads. Cotton's parrot was thus inspired to call out, “Wind in the sails!” and Jack frowned in his direction.

“Isn't that supposed to be a 'yes'?” he said, leaning over to Gibbs, on his right.

“Aye, but... better carry on, Cap'n,” said Gibbs in a firm, optimistic tone.

“All right. Where was I? Oh, yes. 'I require and charge you both, as ye will answer at the dreadful day of judgment when the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed...'” He couldn't help looking at Elizabeth as he spoke, who raised her chin - just a little - as she looked back at Jack. Will didn't notice, because he, too, was looking at Jack. “...That if either of you know any impediment, why ye may not be lawfully joined together in Matrimony, ye do now confess it.'” Confess it. His words seemed to echo around him, and it was a little harder to breathe, because he was thinking about Elizabeth. In bed. She ought to have something to confess... He could almost smell it, even now, he knew she wanted him, as their eyes met and held for a long moment. But that would all be past them, now, he supposed. The days of her offering him a kiss, even a staged one, were gone. She would be married to Will, and Jack would get absurdly drunk while the rest of them reveled to drown out any noise that might emerge from his cabin, which he'd graciously - foolishly? - offered to them for the occasion.

Oh, he was in a fine mess. His lips compressed. “Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?” he read quickly.

“I do,” answered Gibbs.

“All right, then. So...” Jack glanced down at the next part. The vows. Were they there already? Could he not have a single moment's reprieve, before he heard them be sworn to each other, right in front of him? He swallowed. Oh, good, the man first... Will was easier. He'd be able to start with Will.

“Mister William Turner, wilt thou have this woman to be thy wedded wife, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honour, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?” He raised his eyes to Will, who was regarding Elizabeth with a smile, love and admiration written plainly on his face.

“I will,” he said solemnly.

“And... Miss Elizabeth Swann, wilt thou have this man to be thy wedded husband, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honour, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other-“ Jack's voice cracked, and he cleared his throat as Elizabeth turned wide eyes upon him. He saw some emotion in her eyes, as he continued the sentence. “Forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?”

There was a pause. Elizabeth was still staring openly at Jack, as though blindsided. Will nudged her. “Elizabeth?” he whispered.

“Yes, I shall,” she responded in a rapid whisper.

Jack suppressed a smile. “You're supposed to say, 'I will.'”

“Isn't that what I...” She turned her eyes to Will. “Will. I will.”

“Much better. Now then.” Jack glanced down the page. “Repeat after me. William, first. 'I, William Turner, take thee, Elizabeth Swann, to be my wedded wife.'”

As Will repeated the words, clearly and warmly, he looked into Elizabeth's eyes. Jack couldn't help noticing she let her eyes fall closed for a long moment, before she opened them to look at Jack. Looking at him... why was she looking at him? Oh. The next part. If he were the kind of man who believed in marriage, he might have even pretended he was speaking the words to her, himself. If he were...

“To have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my... troth,” Jack read. He dared not raise his eyes, for he could feel her gaze upon him, and it burned.

Will spoke after him, and when Jack finally looked up, Elizabeth had turned her gaze back to Will. Everything was moving so fast. Hadn't he planned to bed her, before she married the whelp? How did it get to be today, so quickly?

It was her turn. It was his turn, to say the words that would pledge her to Will, forever. He could blame no one but himself, after this, for the way things had turned out. He took a deep breath and let it out quietly, seeing the anxious expression on her face. Perhaps she her doubts, too. But he would do it. He would see it through. Captain Jack Sparrow had survived the jaws of Hell itself, and refused to be felled by something as trivial as a marriage. He would have a hundred women after this... a thousand.... any woman he wanted. Any woman except her.

“'I, Elizabeth Swann, take thee, William Turner, to be my wedded husband.'”

Her lips formed the words, but Jack could barely hear them over the roar of his blood in his own ears. Still she watched him. Not Will, him. She was waiting for the next, but Jack was moving through the past, every moment he'd spent with her somehow brought to life before him.

“To have and to hold from this day forward.” Jack said the words somberly, meeting Elizabeth's searching eyes. He suddenly found he wanted her to know, wanted her to hear and see and know that he loved her, even if it was only a little.

“To have and to hold...”

His mind wandered as she repeated the words. He imagined having her and holding her, at the same time... their bodies moist with sweat, naked, as he would envelop her with his arms and slide inside her...

“For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer,” he said, still managing to hold her unrelenting gaze. Not all treasure is silver and gold... so long ago, that he'd turned Will into a pirate and thrown them together in the process.

“In sickness and in health.” Not long ago at all... only a few weeks ago, Elizabeth had been ill from the bad water and the heat and the incessant rocking of the Pearl... Jack had protected her from the eyes of the crew by standing behind her as she was sick over the side, and he had gathered all her hair in his fist away from her face, squeezing the silky, strong rope of hair against his palm.

“To love and to cherish.” Days ago. He'd given her the dress, and she'd almost cried as she smiled, holding it out to admire it. She'd sidled up close to him, and pressed an innocent kiss to his cheek, but given the depths of his desire it was anything but innocent, and he suspected she knew it, too. She'd looked up at him with half-lidded eyes, and it was all he could do not to...

“You've forgotten 'obey',” Will said, interrupting his reverie. Jack gaped at him, as did Elizabeth. Will smiled, a twinkle in his eye the only indication that he was teasing. Jack smiled in spite of himself.

“So I have. Forgive me. 'Love, cherish, and obey, till death do us part.'” Elizabeth was glaring daggers at them both, and Jack and Will exchanged a conspiratorial look.

“To love, cherish, and... obey,” Elizabeth said carefully, with a smile that did not reach her eyes.

“Till death do us part,” Jack whispered as he felt again the cool metal of the shackles around his wrists, the warmth of Elizabeth's lips. A parting. His death.

He looked at Will, whose face was suddenly black with worry, and Jack knew what he was thinking: What if death comes sooner than we think?

“Till death do us...” Elizabeth seemed to hang on the last word, searching Will's face, and finally glancing over at Jack before sighing. “Till death do us part.”

There was complete silence on the deck, and a long pause before Jack spoke. “Will, have you the ring?”

Will lifted his eyes from Elizabeth's face to stare at him. His brows furrowed, and then lifted in surprise. Jack cringed inwardly. It was completely obvious that the boy had not given a single thought to the ring. Elizabeth was frowning up at him.

Jack drew his hand along his side, nudging the gold ring from his pinky, and he palmed it expertly so that no one saw. He reached out and took Will's hand, pressing the ring into it, the rough touch of his calloused fingers causing the damp flesh of Will's palm to twitch in surprise. “Repeat the following. 'With this ring, I thee wed.” Will shot him a grateful look before sliding the ring onto Elizabeth's long, pale finger. She wasn't looking at it. She was still looking at Jack.

“With my body I thee worship,” Jack said in a low murmur, meeting Elizabeth's penetrating gaze. Were his words dipped in the water barrel, steam would have hissed from the top. He saw her cheeks grow a bit pinker.

“With my body I thee worship,” echoed Will. He must have pulled at her hand to get her attention, for Elizabeth then looked over at him. A wan smile appeared on her lips, and the hand Will held slipped and fell to her side. Jack found himself thinking - wondering, imagining- what would happen if Will weren't there, between him and Elizabeth... if all barriers were stripped away. He cleared his throat, eyeing the next sentence.

“And with all my worldly goods I thee endow,” Jack said with a raised eyebrow, considering the irony of that particular vow as Will repeated it. Elizabeth was endowed with more worldly goods than the entire crew put together, let alone Will or himself. Jack found himself marveling at the fine state of Elizabeth's worldly goods more often than he would like to admit.

They were looking at him again. He glanced down at the text for the end of the paragraph. “Oh, uh... hmm... in the name of the, er, Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen,” he amended quickly, glancing upward, half-expecting to be struck down on the spot. When it registered that he still stood, alive and well, he turned his eyes back to the page.

Then shall the Priest join their right hands together, Jack read. He reached for Elizabeth's hand, that now bore the ring - his ring, he realized with a sinking feeling - and moved it over toward Will, who took the cue and raised his own. Jack laid her fingers upon the back of Will's hand, placing his own hand on top of both. The three of them looked at each other.

“Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder,” Jack uttered solemnly, and Elizabeth lifted her eyes to his, again. No man, he thought. Not even me?

After a long pause, all three of their hands still joined, Elizabeth spoke. “Is... is that it?” she whispered.

“I think there's a blessing,” Will whispered back, and looked at Jack.

“So there is,” he replied and withdrew his hand, flexing his fingers to ease the sensation of having been scalded by the soft skin of Elizabeth's hand. “Let's see... here 'tis: Almighty God, who at the beginning did create our first parents, Adam and Eliz- er, Eve...” Jack paused for a breath, mentally banishing the image of Elizabeth clad in nothing but a set of fig leaves. “...and did sanctify and join them together in marriage, pour upon you the riches of his grace, sanctify and bless you, that ye may please him both in body and soul, and live together in holy love unto your lives' end. Amen.”

“Amen,” chorused the assembled crew, as cheerfully as they might have in the face of the Almighty himself. Jack caught Will's eye, and indicated Elizabeth with a sharp inclination of his head.

“Oh,” Will mumbled, and leaned in to press a kiss to Elizabeth's proffered lips. The crew began to clap. Some cheered. Jack sighed, and shut the prayer book so forcefully that the braids of his beard fluttered in the draft.

He saw Elizabeth smile, then, broadly, up into Will's face. There was no heated stare for Jack, no indication of regret. She was for him, now. And she really looked... happy.

“Music,” Jack called as he began to stride purposefully toward his cabin, already tugging at the black bandanna he wore on his head. He had two objectives: one, to change his clothes; two, to find the largest bottle of rum available and begin consuming it. All of it. A jaunty tune sounded from the deck as he slammed the door of his cabin shut, and leaned back against it, breathing hard. Well, that was it... it was done. It was over, now.

Wasn't it?
- 1
- 2
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Unto Your Lives' End