"One Day" Chapter 7 -- "Ties that Bind"
Whether it was the gentle movement of the Atalanta’s decks beneath her feet or simply her beleaguered body finally reaching some accord with the babe she carried, Elizabeth could not be sure, but she was nevertheless grateful to be relieved of the constant upset in her stomach. The smells of food and drink were again pleasing to her, and her senses seemed somehow sharpened, renewed as if a lazy fog had finally lifted.
Having been raised motherless, and without female companionship closer than her ladies’ maids since arriving in Jamaica, Elizabeth knew almost nothing of women’s mysteries. She had known when to expect her courses, and how to calculate their monthly arrival. She knew that lying with a man could cause her to be with child - but what it meant to lie with a man, though she had heard that term and other, coarser ones bandied about by her maids over the years, was, for her, a shadowy notion lacking definition.
Until, of course, she and Will had hurriedly defined it for one another, giving themselves over entirely to the intensity of the moment and the heat of their bodies, which somehow seemed to understand exactly what needed be done.
Upon arriving in Shipwreck Cove, and emerging from her early quarantine in Teague’s quarters, she had immediately discovered the necessity and value of female friendship. Elizabeth was not easily given to the bonds of friendship and trust, and though her role as King set her somewhat apart from the circles of women - who socialized in the kitchens and the laundry and nurseries of the compound - she made it her business to seek out their company, heeding their talk and, once they learned of her condition, the abundant advice they had to offer their expectant king. And she was pleasantly surprised to be warmly embraced by the unusual sisterhood that existed here, and to find herself, for the first time in her life, among women she considered her friends.
Elizabeth had become particularly close to a young mother named Susan, a dark haired girl barely five years older than she. It had been Susan who knew what blend of herbs brewed into tea would comfort the early nausea Elizabeth suffered, and who had alternately tightened and loosed the bindings on her breasts when the tenderness blossomed into an outright ache. Susan had already birthed three children - two gorgeous, rambunctious boys, Benjamin and Jacob - and suffered the heartbreak of a stillborn daughter. Both boys were Teague’s, unless Elizabeth missed her mark, and though Susan had never come right out and named the Keeper as the boys’ father, the longer Elizabeth lived in Shipwreck City, the more it seemed to her that Teague might just be its patriarch both literally and metaphorically.
Lowering herself to the quarterdeck steps, she wondered, as she stared up into the billowing sails of her ship, if Jack even knew how many siblings - from toddlers right on up to grown men and women - he had in this wide world. Curious, she thought, and entirely foreign to her, all the relations she had in the world beginning and ending with Weatherby Swann. To have people around you who had known you always, who looked a bit like you and in whose eyes you saw a shared reflection of your past and future... she placed one hand gently upon her slowly burgeoning belly and stroked absently. A family like that is what she wanted for this child.
She ignored the cold and logical voice in her head as it proceeded to tally her remaining fruitful years in increments of ten.
“Ha’ penny for your thoughts, love,” came the velvet voice from the foot of the stairs. She responded without shifting her gaze away from the brilliant canopy of sky above.
“Even if I suspected you had a ha’penny, Jack, I’d have to decline,” she demurred with a heavenward smirk. “But I would still remind you that if you must address me before my crew, please do so properly.”
Heavy footfalls upon the steps heralded the interruption of her tranquil moment; dark braids fell into her circle of vision a moment before Jack’s entire countenance appeared suspended above her. “M’ sorry - Captain King Empress High Priestess Lizzie, your most excellent, eminent, majestic, honorable -“ She cut him off with a labored sigh.
“Family, Jack, that’s what I’m thinking about. Roots. Heritage. Truth is, Jack, I believe I envy you in that respect.” She straightened, the drape of her linen shirt shifting to cover the rounded bump beneath. “You know where your roots are. And some days, it seems as if every child ever born in Shipwreck Cove is your half-brother or sister. But this,” she rested her palm once more upon her middle, “this little one is all the family I have in this world.”
Taken aback, Jack furrowed his brow, then followed her down to the main deck. “You know that you’ve a home in the Cove as long as you live, Lizzie,” he reminded her. “And the whole of the ocean to call your own - and William, of course. Sometimes. Occasionally... periodically...” he trailed off at her withering look, the gist of her pensive mood finally clear to him. “Oh.”
“‘Oh,’” she repeated, raising her eyebrows as if to mock his epiphany. “Yes, precisely, Jack: ‘Oh.’ Do you think it’s escaped me that this child will be nigh on to his tenth year before Will even knows he exists?”
Jack quirked his brow in response. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that part, Lizzie,” he confided. “Calypso... she can be harsh and resolute, to be sure, but she moves in mysterious ways, and make no mistake that she bears a certain... affection for those who have shown her even the smallest kindness.”
Elizabeth’s expression radiated confusion, laced with trepidation at the mention of the sea goddess’ name. “What does that mean? For Will, for our child...? Of what interest is my family to her?”
“ T’be honest, love, I’m not sure meself,” he confessed with a small shrug, gazing reverently upon the diamond-drenched surface of the midday ocean. “But I’m sure she’s not forgotten the Dutchman’s new captain, nor his bride. Nor would she be unawares of the impending addition to the Turner brood,” he nodded toward her belly with a small grin. “She is a goddess, after all, one with a particular interest in those bound to the sea.”
Something about the idea of the exotic obeh woman - goddess or no - being an omnipresent force in her life did not sit comfortably with Elizabeth. Her soul itself shivered at the prickly sensation of having suddenly realized she was being watched. With some effort, she shook off the eerie mood and turned her attention to the sails, suddenly slack with the dying breeze.
“Gentlemen, adjust these lines - reef the mainsail and topgallant, before there is a change in the weather. No loose sailcloth, sirs; grab a hold onto that bowline!!” She proceeded across the main deck and continued to bark orders, confidence ringing in her voice as sailors scurried to obey their Captain, and their King. Jack watched with what he could only identify as a strange sort of pride, though what credit in this was his, he was not quite sure. Before he had more than a moment to wonder upon it, however, his Captain marched back down from the gun deck to confront the one member of her crew that had not immediately jumped into action at the sound of her voice.
“Mr. Sparrow, did you not understand the orders I just gave?” she bellowed from the steps. “Grab a line, and shorten the canvas!”
“Aye, Captain,” he grinned, a flash of gold and ivory signaling his bemused acquiescence.
“Oh, and Sparrow?” she called, as he turned to obey, “I do believe you owe me a ha’penny.”
Having been raised motherless, and without female companionship closer than her ladies’ maids since arriving in Jamaica, Elizabeth knew almost nothing of women’s mysteries. She had known when to expect her courses, and how to calculate their monthly arrival. She knew that lying with a man could cause her to be with child - but what it meant to lie with a man, though she had heard that term and other, coarser ones bandied about by her maids over the years, was, for her, a shadowy notion lacking definition.
Until, of course, she and Will had hurriedly defined it for one another, giving themselves over entirely to the intensity of the moment and the heat of their bodies, which somehow seemed to understand exactly what needed be done.
Upon arriving in Shipwreck Cove, and emerging from her early quarantine in Teague’s quarters, she had immediately discovered the necessity and value of female friendship. Elizabeth was not easily given to the bonds of friendship and trust, and though her role as King set her somewhat apart from the circles of women - who socialized in the kitchens and the laundry and nurseries of the compound - she made it her business to seek out their company, heeding their talk and, once they learned of her condition, the abundant advice they had to offer their expectant king. And she was pleasantly surprised to be warmly embraced by the unusual sisterhood that existed here, and to find herself, for the first time in her life, among women she considered her friends.
Elizabeth had become particularly close to a young mother named Susan, a dark haired girl barely five years older than she. It had been Susan who knew what blend of herbs brewed into tea would comfort the early nausea Elizabeth suffered, and who had alternately tightened and loosed the bindings on her breasts when the tenderness blossomed into an outright ache. Susan had already birthed three children - two gorgeous, rambunctious boys, Benjamin and Jacob - and suffered the heartbreak of a stillborn daughter. Both boys were Teague’s, unless Elizabeth missed her mark, and though Susan had never come right out and named the Keeper as the boys’ father, the longer Elizabeth lived in Shipwreck City, the more it seemed to her that Teague might just be its patriarch both literally and metaphorically.
Lowering herself to the quarterdeck steps, she wondered, as she stared up into the billowing sails of her ship, if Jack even knew how many siblings - from toddlers right on up to grown men and women - he had in this wide world. Curious, she thought, and entirely foreign to her, all the relations she had in the world beginning and ending with Weatherby Swann. To have people around you who had known you always, who looked a bit like you and in whose eyes you saw a shared reflection of your past and future... she placed one hand gently upon her slowly burgeoning belly and stroked absently. A family like that is what she wanted for this child.
She ignored the cold and logical voice in her head as it proceeded to tally her remaining fruitful years in increments of ten.
“Ha’ penny for your thoughts, love,” came the velvet voice from the foot of the stairs. She responded without shifting her gaze away from the brilliant canopy of sky above.
“Even if I suspected you had a ha’penny, Jack, I’d have to decline,” she demurred with a heavenward smirk. “But I would still remind you that if you must address me before my crew, please do so properly.”
Heavy footfalls upon the steps heralded the interruption of her tranquil moment; dark braids fell into her circle of vision a moment before Jack’s entire countenance appeared suspended above her. “M’ sorry - Captain King Empress High Priestess Lizzie, your most excellent, eminent, majestic, honorable -“ She cut him off with a labored sigh.
“Family, Jack, that’s what I’m thinking about. Roots. Heritage. Truth is, Jack, I believe I envy you in that respect.” She straightened, the drape of her linen shirt shifting to cover the rounded bump beneath. “You know where your roots are. And some days, it seems as if every child ever born in Shipwreck Cove is your half-brother or sister. But this,” she rested her palm once more upon her middle, “this little one is all the family I have in this world.”
Taken aback, Jack furrowed his brow, then followed her down to the main deck. “You know that you’ve a home in the Cove as long as you live, Lizzie,” he reminded her. “And the whole of the ocean to call your own - and William, of course. Sometimes. Occasionally... periodically...” he trailed off at her withering look, the gist of her pensive mood finally clear to him. “Oh.”
“‘Oh,’” she repeated, raising her eyebrows as if to mock his epiphany. “Yes, precisely, Jack: ‘Oh.’ Do you think it’s escaped me that this child will be nigh on to his tenth year before Will even knows he exists?”
Jack quirked his brow in response. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that part, Lizzie,” he confided. “Calypso... she can be harsh and resolute, to be sure, but she moves in mysterious ways, and make no mistake that she bears a certain... affection for those who have shown her even the smallest kindness.”
Elizabeth’s expression radiated confusion, laced with trepidation at the mention of the sea goddess’ name. “What does that mean? For Will, for our child...? Of what interest is my family to her?”
“ T’be honest, love, I’m not sure meself,” he confessed with a small shrug, gazing reverently upon the diamond-drenched surface of the midday ocean. “But I’m sure she’s not forgotten the Dutchman’s new captain, nor his bride. Nor would she be unawares of the impending addition to the Turner brood,” he nodded toward her belly with a small grin. “She is a goddess, after all, one with a particular interest in those bound to the sea.”
Something about the idea of the exotic obeh woman - goddess or no - being an omnipresent force in her life did not sit comfortably with Elizabeth. Her soul itself shivered at the prickly sensation of having suddenly realized she was being watched. With some effort, she shook off the eerie mood and turned her attention to the sails, suddenly slack with the dying breeze.
“Gentlemen, adjust these lines - reef the mainsail and topgallant, before there is a change in the weather. No loose sailcloth, sirs; grab a hold onto that bowline!!” She proceeded across the main deck and continued to bark orders, confidence ringing in her voice as sailors scurried to obey their Captain, and their King. Jack watched with what he could only identify as a strange sort of pride, though what credit in this was his, he was not quite sure. Before he had more than a moment to wonder upon it, however, his Captain marched back down from the gun deck to confront the one member of her crew that had not immediately jumped into action at the sound of her voice.
“Mr. Sparrow, did you not understand the orders I just gave?” she bellowed from the steps. “Grab a line, and shorten the canvas!”
“Aye, Captain,” he grinned, a flash of gold and ivory signaling his bemused acquiescence.
“Oh, and Sparrow?” she called, as he turned to obey, “I do believe you owe me a ha’penny.”