Chapter Text
The first-time James encountered Elizabeth Swann after her appointment as pirate royalty, it was at a ball at the Governors on Nassau. James had heard of her – heard of the brethren’s victory in his sick bed and her unlikely title and had been considering his options. His recovery from the wound he took on the Dutchman had rather seemed a second chance at life. As had Beckett’s and the company’s defeat. There was no reason he could not have a life with honour now. Currently, England was at war with the French and at peace with Spain and he could likely find himself fighting that war instead of chasing pirates for all he had very little influence left.
There are even Spanish officers mingling here in this small celebration of the current peace. James would be surprised if it lasts six months before the position was reversed and they are once again battling Spain but he was enjoying the evening – the Spanish dignitary had brought along several casks of very fine wine and any minute now no doubt the Governor’s wife would be pressing him to dance with his daughter who in James’ opinion should still be in the school room.
He had given some consideration to courting again now his life was more settled. He would like a family of his own and he if thinks of the Pirate King with a lingering fondness he was honest when he finally admitted their destinies were not joined no matter how much he would wish it to be otherwise. It did not mean he wished to be linked with another Governor’s daughter though and certainly not a flirty fifteen-year-old. James would pick someone sensible, one of the wallflowers back home who was in danger of being considered an old maid. Someone who would want a family and an establishment and not care he was away at sea half the year. He would like to be a father and while a convenient arrangement had never appealed in the past now it just seemed like it would be less painful. So, that would be his plan as soon as he returns home. And for now, he would enjoy the gathering and take the measure of those Spanish officers who are here.
It threw a wrench into his sensible plans then when he was circling the room and paused when he heard a familiar laugh that was very out of place. The sight of Elizabeth in Spanish dress, her hair dyed midnight black shocked him into silence and he was almost thankful he had to pretend interest in her companion and bowing greeting to the Spanish captain who was her companion, barely daring to look at her. The hair threw him of course. A riot of black curls around her smiling face and he could see laughter in her dark eyes while he stared stupidly. It looked striking on her of course – made her face paler and her lips seem redder – but it was just a veneer of course. She was still the same Elizabeth and this was so clearly a ploy that when he was introduced to ‘Senora Isabel Cisne,’ he nearly laughed himself.
“Charmed to make your acquaintance Senora,” he said only for her to blink at him and turn to the Captain who obligingly translates his words. Well, James assumes so – his Spanish was sadly lacking. Elizabeth curtsies prettily and James wonders just what she was playing at – her dress, while Spanish styled was far too low cut to be that of a modest Spanish matron and the Captain, was certainly treating her possessively.
James managed to cobble enough of his schoolroom Spanish together to request a dance which only earns him a glare from the Spanish officer as Elizabeth takes his arm and lets him lead her away.
But she maintains the pretence of not speaking English throughout the dance and answers all his queries in what seems to him to be perfect Spanish. Meaning he understands less than half of it. But towards the end of their dance, she leans up to whisper in his ear. “Your room – Midnight.”
And then she was off – now charming yet another Spanish officer it seems while her erstwhile beau glares at James as if he is at fault for her fickleness. Chance would be a fine thing, James thinks sceptically and then he was accosted by the lady of the house and her daughter and by the time he extricates himself from that ‘Isabel’ was nowhere to be seen.
It was closer to one in the morning before Elizabeth lets herself into his room. James had told himself half a dozen times that he would go to bed or ignore her knock. He did not have to dance attendance on her. Yet he was still pacing when she slips into his room without so much as a knock.
She was dressed for bed in a floor length wrap and her darkened hair loose around her face. “I am sorry I’m late,” she said. “Capitan González is beyond persistent. He has been pacing outside of my room for hours. He rather thinks I owe him for the invite.”
“Don’t you?” James said – he could imagine what the Captain thought he was owed and almost wished the man luck because there was no doubt Elizabeth had no intention of fulfilling that promise – nor did he think she should but she cannot say she was not in the man’s debt. James cannot imagine how else she would have gotten an invite.
“Not that much,” Elizabeth said sharply. “They think I am a poor widow angling for protection – they could at least make an offer of carte blanch before expecting some return. Or should it be carta blanca?” She sat down on his bed and sighed theatrically as he pondered for a brief moment if there was any truth in her statement. He could not see there being any. His understanding was that Elizabeth was widowed but he doubted she was poor and she had been clear about not wanting any man’s protection. “You look well, though,” she said carrying on conversationally. “I was relieved to hear you survived, I thought you dead the night you freed me – until Will’s father said otherwise. Then I worried you had been aboard when we sank the Endeavour.”
James tried not to be thankful she had given him a passing thought. Why was she here – it could not be just to torment him and make him feel foolish for making plans as if he no longer loved her. “No,” he said. “Beckett did not suffer wounded on his flagship. I was transferred to a hospital ship.”
“I’m glad,” she said frankly, “there were few survivors from the Endeavour and no officers. What are you doing in Nassau?”
James decided he was not going to play her game whatever it was. “I think my purpose here is quite clear,” he said. “I should be asking you that?”
There was a long moment when she stared at him appraisingly and he would have given everything he had fought so hard to get back to know what she was thinking. He had known her half her life – why was she still such a puzzle. And worse why was that such a draw to him.
“Really James – isn’t it best you don’t know?” Elizabeth said in a sweet tone that belied her words. “Do you want to arrest me – or have more reason to feel guilty that you did not?” She stepped closer. “I will assure you there was a reason I was playing a Spanish lady tonight.”
“That is hardly better,” he said, “We are at peace with Spain, Elizabeth.”
“You might be,” Elizabeth said carelessly. “For now, would you care to wager how long that will last?”
James would not. He had declined several such wages from fellow officers already. He disapproved of gambling in general and on wagering on diplomacy in particular. “Perhaps I should ask instead what you are doing in my room,” he said tiredly as Elizabeth carried on making herself comfortable on his bed,
“I wanted to see you,” she said sitting up as if this was obvious. “It seems we are still entwined, after all, James.”
James felt his cheeks colour. He had not realised he would be run through immediately after that confession but he certainly had not anticipated seeing Elizabeth again. Their paths could not have been more divergent.
“Do you need protection,” he said finally. “From Captain González and his ilk.” He came to her side – no-one would pay any attention if she made a complaint about the captain and he was surprised when she took his hand and brushed a kiss to it.
“No,” she said. “I can look after myself. But I would not mind some friendly company, James.” Her tone made clear just what she meant by company. Before he could express his shock, or protest or ask why or even consider if this was part of whatever scheme she had going, she pulled him close and kissed him. And he was lost to her – as always.
Afterwards, she curled up in his arms her dark hair rumpled and her hand running over his chest. James did not have words. He suspected this was a mistake. It certainly put paid to his plans to go home and have a marriage of convenience and never think of Elizabeth Swann again. Yet he could not regret the encounter. Knowing what it was to have Elizabeth in his arms and in his bed.
James held her gingerly – he was sure if he held any tighter she would object and leave and that would be it. And he would probably never sleep again without thinking of the feel of her in his arms, the taste of her mouth and her skin or the sound she had made when pleasure overtook her.
“That was lovely, James,” she said in a contented tone nuzzling into him. It made James feel a little less guilty – but not by much and then she had startled him further by adding. “I have wanted to do that since you kissed me on the Dutchman.”
“You married Mr Turner,” he said a little indignantly.
“Ah,” Elizabeth said. “Well, I wanted him too – James. It is the benefit of being a pirate. Take what you can – give nothing back.” Then she made herself comfortable and went to sleep and James lay awake. Of course, he was disappointed but he had been more so in the past. Perhaps want was all he would have of her – it was more than he had ever expected to have.
He stirred in the night to found her gone, the other side of the bed cold and that was no more than he expected either.
So, he was surprised to wake in the morning and find her curled up in his arms. The dark hair looks harsh in the sunlight and she looks pale. But she looks comfortable and James allows himself a brief moment to pretend just what a life with her could be like.
A life she would never want, he reminds himself, smoothing a bit of hair off her face feeling guilty when she stirs. She bolts from his arms then and he thinks he had offended her until she takes herself to the window to empty her stomach.
James averts his eyes and when she seems to be done brings her water and a cloth. “Are you alright?” he said.
“Quite,” she said. “I am used to it now.” Elizabeth rinses her mouth and glances at him. “I suppose I should tell you the real reason I am here then. I came to hire a midwife,” she told him. “Shipwreck Cove is without one and if I wanted a decent one I had to come part way back to civilisation. The ball was just a diversion. And I hardly wanted to share my reasons with my crew. Not yet – they think I am robbing the Governor.”
James found himself staring at her speechless and suddenly flush with shame over his behaviour. Bedding a pregnant woman and not even noticing – it had been four months since the battle and Turner’s death– surely he should have seen. He found himself staring at her in her wrap and he could see no sign at all of a pregnancy. She laughed at him and came over to him and took his hand and placed it on her stomach where he could not feel anything anymore than he could see it. The wrap was pure silk and he could feel the heat of her skin beneath it – and he knew very well that it was all she had on. “I am not showing yet. It’s more evident here,” she said a note of mischief in her voice as she guided his hand up to her breast - James yanked his hand out of her grasp and away from her person at once trying to ignore the swell of want she had provoked him – no not provoked – he had wanted her from the moment he had seen her in the ballroom and having bedded her once had only made it worse. But there was no reason to admit to it. No doubt she meant to torment him for whatever reason.
He took a breath. Perhaps it was not a tease – perhaps it was some sort of plea without wanting to seem weak. “Elizabeth if you wanted to come home I could arrange a pardon,” James said. “You cannot want to bring a child up in Shipwreck cove.” Even the name of the place was ominous. She put paid to the notion of her wanting help immediately.
“I only plan to give birth in Shipwreck Cove,” Elizabeth said sharply. “I’m going to bring my child up on the Empress.” James had a dozen arguments against such recklessness but before he could say a word she added. “I know it is risky but is not as if children on land are entirely safe. How many children did Beckett hang.”
James could not argue with that stepping away, ashamed of himself all over again.
“I suppose at sea, Mr Turner will be able to see you both.” James ventured.
“No,” Elizabeth said quietly. “Not unless we are sinking – his duties do not allow for that.” She was remarkably calm about it and James was further confused. It was not like her to be so accepting of something she surely would not like. “Do you think I can’t manage on my own?” she said suddenly and James knew if he did not know her so well he would never have heard the note of doubt in her voice.
“I think you can manage anything,” James said. “But you should not have to Elizabeth.”
“James I did not come here for help,” Elizabeth said. “And I am not going back to Port Royal – unless you mean to arrest me and make me plead my belly.”
“Of course, not,” James said stung. “Elizabeth why did you come here last night – truly.” Elizabeth shrugged a little and went to speak but James would never know if she would actually ever have told him because that was when Captain González burst into the room with half a dozen marines and the Governor of Nassau.
Elizabeth shrieked and clung to him in a most convincing manner while flinging wild accusations at the Captain in her fluent Spanish and broken English overlaid with an awful Spanish accent that James would have wagered she had learnt from Sparrow. Despite the pretended language difficulties. She managed to convey quite neatly that she had been egregiously abused and taken advantage of by the Captain and had chosen to throw herself at a British officer in hopes of extracting herself from his clutches.
As narratives go it was quite convincing and Captain González only got more irate and insistent that she had stolen his papers regarding the Spanish supply lines and while Elizabeth wept and cowered behind him denying any such thing. “I left wiz nothing,” she said. “No even my jewels. He is wicked. Wicked.”
James knew she was acting but even her feigned distress was enough to make him want to run the Spaniard through.
The Governor looked quite helpless. “Admiral Norrington – I do not mean to be forward but if you confirm the whereabouts of the lady at the time of the loss it might clear things up.”
There it was then – he was her alibi. James swallowed and Elizabeth clung to his arm.
“Sir this is most irregular,” he said. “Do you often quiz guests about private matters in the presence of foreign officers.”
“No – of course not.” The Governor snapped. “But surely you can see this is an extraordinary case.”
And it was – as if James could send Elizabeth to a Spanish prison even if she was not increasing.
“The lady has been here all night,” he said. “She has made a most convincing case for my taking her back to Port Royal with me. If Captain González wanted to keep his mistress, he should have been kinder to her.”
Elizabeth clung to him then murmuring “Gracias Almirante,” and making what James thought were several obscene promises in her apparent adopted language.
He had her escorted to his ship by a full dozen British marines not trusting the Spanish to take this particular defeat lying down – the gossip over this would haunt him for months. But if he could do anything he could take Elizabeth home and try and talk some sense into her. Raise a baby at sea – she could have a perfectly settled establishment in Port Royal with her inheritance.
She was gone when he got back to the ship of course, despite the guard and the fact they had locked her in the cabin. She’s used his bedsheets and the window. Of course. The trick had served her well in the past – why change it.
But she had also left him the Spanish log book she’d stolen minus a few ripped page – the relevant supply lines he assumed and inscribed it.
‘Dearest James
Thank you as always for coming to my rescue – I promise I have not escalated the end of the peace – the Spanish are hiding half a dozen galleons at Port au Prince – waiting their opportune moment.
Elizabeth’
James had not so much as thought of the peace and how he might have hampered it by giving Elizabeth her way – if he had the note might have been a relief. Instead, he only felt like she had played him for a fool all over again. And worse it almost seemed worth it for the memory of the night with her.