Quid Pro Quo Chapter 1
Mwahah, My first Beckabeth fic :))))))
hope you all like it, please comment, WARNING: I'm not so good at writing Beckett, but I did my best here.
Allrighties, enjoy!
*****
Prologue.
Hell broke down as the East India Trading Company's army attacked Sao Feng's bathhouse. Even though Feng's men had been acting all calm and secure, they were now screaming, shooting everywhere, not caring whether they hit an enemy or an ally. Some of the men fell down at once, on each side, but the East India Trading Company had expected resistance - in other words: they had been ready.
Mercer, with orders from Lord Cutler Beckett himself, walked calmly inside with his gun, saw Elizabeth Swann in the middle and pointed the gun at her.
She gasped, not reacting on time, staring into the black hole of Mercer's pistol, but Will grabbed her and pushed her out of the way, and Mercer's bullet hit one of the maids instead.
Suddenly a group of eight or more soldiers were pointing their guns at her, Will, Barbossa and Sao Feng, but suddenly, as planned, the floor beneath the soldiers exploded and sent them flying everywhere. Sao Feng screamed something, and everyone started running for their lives, still fighting, but fighting to get away. Will grabbed Elizabeth's arm and helped her get through the crowd of people, all running and stumbling over each other. Many fell during the storming, soldiers fired every minute large numbers of bullets, of which half of them always found their target.
Gunfire, blood, screams, Barbossa and Sao Feng were fighting somewhere, both laughing and screaming, Will was doing his best to take down two or three men at the same time, Pintel and Ragetti came running with their guns together with Cotton, Gibbs and Marty, and Elizabeth was sure she'd seen a hint of Tia Dalma's big hat... everything around her was moving in slow-motion, but still her hands were acting quickly, moving her sword, splitting up men in half, kicking, screaming, doing her part of the job...
Little did she know that Will was negotiating with Sao Feng at the some time, she did her best, kicked a soldier down from a bridge after splitting his chest open with her sword. She did not feel at all comfortable fighting in the small, blue robe she was wearing, but she guessed the soldiers had no time to look under it, so it was fine. She knew, that if she survived, she'd be able to change into something more comfortable. That thought alone made her smile as she slit the throat of a soldier, who looked quite familiar. For a second she had feared that she had killed Norrington; she'd heard rumors that he'd joined Beckett again, but she did not want him dead. In panic she looked at the dead man's face, and was relieved the see that it was not James...
She shouldn't have stopped. She was just standing there, with her sword loosely in her hand, looking at the dead man. He did look like James, and suddenly she remembered how he had saved them, ran away with the chest... ran straight into death. She had been sure of that, but no, a few months ago she had heard that Commodore Norrington was back in business... it did not please her, but she was glad to know he'd made it... but worse than that, he had given Beckett the heart of Davy Jones.
She shouldn't have stopped.
Deaf to the sound of battle, eyes on the dead soldier, she did not realize it until it was too late. The body had been lit up with fireworks, that made the whole little bathing village blow up, but now there was a shadow upon the body, and she slowly lifted her gaze. And once again, she was staring into Mercer's deadly eyes, and in his hand he held his beloved pistol - pointed right at her head.
" 'ello, miss Swann", he said, smiling, finger at the trigger.
One second... two... three... she tightened her grip on her sword without him noticing, and before Mercer's not so smart right hand realized it she had sliced him in the leg and he fell to the ground, screaming, but he did not pass out nor die, and as soon as Elizabeth turned around and started running along the bridge back to Will and the others, she heard a shot, and the next thing she knew she was on the ground, a horrible pain taking over her body, burning like fire, making her spasm and scream until her lungs were empty. Everything became blurry, her body was slowly numbed with the pain, which now became so intense she thought she was close to dying. She saw images of Will and her father in her head, Barbossa chasing her around in the cabin, the skeletons, the fight with James in Tortuga, kissing Jack, cuffing him to the mast, killing him, Sao Feng... and then Mercer's voice. With a silent sigh she felt like she stopped breathing, and she closed her eyes, blocking everything out, even the pain that slowly killed her.
*****
CHAPTER 1
James Norrington swallowed hard as he stood outside the door to Lord Beckett's cabin on the Endeavour. He had not been this nervous in his whole life, not even when he had asked Elizabeth to marry him... Weird as it was, every time he was nervous it had something to do with her.
What would he say? This was so hard, he was burning up inside, and cold on the outside. The thing he was most worried about was his own reaction when he'd say the words 'Elizabeth Swann has been shot and captured'.
She'd been shot. The little girl, who of course was a woman now, who he had known all his life, had been shot by no one else than Mercer himself. It made James' stomach twist and turn, imagining Elizabeth, bloody and wounded on some dirty floor, the light leaving her eyes... but then coming back.
He couldn't think about that now. Raising his voice, he knocked on Beckett's door, opened it, and greeted his Lord.
"Commodore Norrington", Beckett said loudly and turned his chair so that he was facing James. "I do hope you have some good news, I don't think I can take anymore bad."
"If you don't mind me asking, my Lord, has something terrible happened?" James asked quietly.
"102 soldiers were killed in Singapore", Beckett said, looking at a small pack of cards on his table. He did love to gamble. "And one group of 67 people convicted of crimes against the empire managed to escape from Port Royal."
James would have smiled, had he not been in such a fragile state.
"Your news, Commodore?" Beckett said and looked up at him. "This better be good."
"It's both good and bad", James said loudly and tried to ignore Lord Beckett's hollow stare. "We have received a message, which clearly said, that Turner and the pirates, along with Sao Feng, managed to escape from Singapore, and... Elizabeth Swann was captured."
Beckett's eyes lit up when he heard her name, and a broad smile reached his lips. He turned his chair, rose, put his arms behind her back and looked out the window. All he saw was the sea. "I can imagine she did not go easily."
"No, sir", James said, and then he felt his heart stop. "She was shot."
Beckett turned around, with a weird look, but his mouth remained closed. He looked like he was trying to come up with how that had happened without having to ask James, but the thought of Elizabeth shot was troubling him, so he said out loudly: "How?"
"I believe she tried to kill Mr Mercer, and was shot in the... shoulder, in an attempt of escape."
"Oh, that should have been expected", he mumbled and felt like killing something himself. "Is she... very hurt?"
"No. They will be reaching us in the morning."
"Good." He smiled, turned her back to Norrington again, and started thinking. If Swann was the only one who'd been captured, his little ally in the group of pirates had better do as he was told, otherwise everything would go to hell. He had the father and the daughter, he could use the first one on the other one, and then the other way... Suddenly he realized Norrington was still there.
"You are excused", Beckett said and wave at the door, feeling something like... jealousy, realizing that James and Elizabeth had known each other for a very long time, realizing that they were close, a lot closer than he and Elizabeth ever could be if it was up to HER.
Shot.
Oh how he had loved to hear her last scream of the unbearable pain. Seeing her fall down in agony made him amused, pleased, but now was not the time to be thinking those things. He returned to his desk, opened one of the drawers and took out a small bottle filled with a bluish fluid. He held it close to his right eye, looking at it, turning it upside down. For a second it became a clear shade of green, then it was blue again.
Oh yes. He had something very special in store for her.
*****
Cold.
Dark.
No, not all cold. Something warm, somewhere.
Maybe the journey was finally over.
Maybe she had ended up in Davy Jones' locker. She'd get to see Jack, apologize, tell her how sorry she was.
Was she awake? Everything felt hard, heavy, even her eyelids felt like stones. Couldn't she just be dead,...? And what had happened? The last thing she remembered was... it was Mercer. Oh, he was not the last memory she wanted, she was begging for something else, but her mouth did not say the words 'get out of my head'. It was too hard.
The weird thing was that she did not feel any pain. What had happened to the burning, stinging pain that almost had made her throw up, that she remembered, she remembered Mercer and the pain... the pain that he had cost.
Ugh. Now she felt the urge to throw up. She coughed. Then she was definitely alive. She heard voices, men's voices, maybe Will had found her and taken her with them. He would never leave her, that she knew. He'd never leave her in the hands of a man like Mercer - never. But the voices seemed familiar, yet not the ones she'd heard everyday in her life... and slowly she came to realize it was not Will nor Barbossa talking.
Another urge to throw up, and she squirmed a little, moved, but felt nothing. Had her body gone numb? Yes. Was she paralyzed. She hoped not. She begged to God in her mind that she was okay, and slowly she became to realize... that Mercer had shot her.
Now she had to open her eyes, it felt so hard, but suddenly she saw something. Candlelight. Her eyes stung, she closed them again and opened them, this time seeing everything blurry. Damn it. How would she be able to understand anything about her surroundings if she could not see straight, but then she felt something wet along her cheeks. Tears. Was she crying? If she was, she did not control it, therefore she could not stop it.
Now the voices were closer, and to her horror she recognized one of them: Mercer. His voice, it could not be anyone else. Not that she noticed it but the tears were pouring faster now that she realized she had not been saved and wasn't going to be. How much time had passed by? How long had she been out? Had anyone even noticed she had been shot and captured? Probably. But could they track her down. No. None of the pirates knew where Beckett was stationed at the moment, all she knew was that he was not in England at the moment.
And again she wondered how long she'd been out... but that all changed when she heard a familiar voice, somewhere, far away, but she recognized it.
It was her father. His voiced forced her to open her eyes and turn her head a little bit (even though she felt numb she could feel the pain the movement cost her), and located her father with her dizzy gaze. She recognized his wig, and for some weird reason, she smiled. She had expected herself to be shocked, but now she was just... happy and relieved. But when she tried to call out to him, not a single sound left her mouth... but she could hear him talking, and when she concentrated hard, she could make out his words.
"Why won't you tell me who you caught?"
"Governor Swann -"
"No, you listen to me! Is it MY DAUGHTER in there?!"
"Governor Swann, if you do NOT calm down I will have you arrested for -"
"Oh nonsense, I want to see my daughter! Elizabeth, are you there?!"
She took a deep breath, concentrated on her mouth and said the word 'Father', quite loud, but as soon as she said it someone covered her mouth with something. She felt a hand against her face, and was pushed down. What was she lying on? It felt soft, it was a bed or a couch of some kind... She tried desperately to scream for her father, to let him know she was there, so that he could help her, but only moans escaped her mouth as she tried to scream through the hand that was silencing her.
"Miss Swann, if you do not calm down I will have to sedate you!" a voice murmured somewhere over her, and suddenly the hand disappeared - and so did all the weakness in her body.
"Father! Father, here, here, I'm here!!!" she screamed as hard as she could, her mouth was covered again, but the conversation outside had stopped and she could see her father's shadow through some blurry glass-doors. Everything was quiet for a few seconds, then...
"Elizabeth!" now he yelled, stormed Mercer out of his way and ripped the doors open.
She caught a glimpse of him, saw his shocked face, and started wondering what she looked like... Was she even DRESSED? Yes, she noticed she was wearing the same blue robe. Then she looked up at him again, squirmed to get away from the hands which were silencing her and holding her down.
"Elizabeth, darling...", he whispered, shocked, and started coming towards her, but Mercer grabbed him from behind and started pulling him towards the door. "No, no, let me go, let me see her, she's hurt, Elizabeth! Sweetheart, look at me - "
"Irons!" Mercer screamed loud and the sound of footsteps reached both the Governor’s and Elizabeth's ears.
Soon the Governor’s hands were shackled and he was pulled out of the room, fighting and screaming for his daughter, and as soon as Mercer closed the door and turned towards Elizabeth, the hand which silenced her disappeared, but she did have time to bite down on it and she heard a low scream from above her.
"What are you going to do to my father?" she asked, her tears now pouring again, but hoping that Mercer would be merciful enough to give her an answer.
"That is out of my hands now", Mercer answered and walked towards her. Then his gaze turned to the man next to her. "How's the wound?"
"Not so bad, she'll be able to walk if that's what you're concerned about."
"I'm not concerned about her ability to walk, I'm concerned about her mental stability when she'll meet Lord Beckett."
"Oh to Hell with him!" Elizabeth screamed and tried to get up, only to realize that her hands were bound with some kind of rope. It was not like an iron grip, but she could not get rid of it.
"Now, now, don't be hasty", Mercer said and looked at her. Elizabeth had to look over her shoulder to be able to see him. "As you might have learned, Lord Beckett does not take that kind of 'compliments' from a woman like you. You lost his respect for you the second you got those letters of Marque from him, remember that night?"
Oh she remembered all right, she had hid in Beckett's office, told him she wanted to negotiate, and he had come towards her, unarmed, with a weird look, as if he had a mental image of what she was going to offer... but then she had revealed her gun, put it to his head, discussed Jack Sparrow's compass with him for a minute or two, and finally got the letters of Marque, then disappeared into the night... It was a wonder he had not sent soldiers after her.
"I asked you a question, miss Elizabeth."
"I DO remember... sir", she answered, finding it best to please him, since it seemed like he was the one in charge of her health. She wanted the gunshot-wound fixed, she wanted to be able to move so that she could jump on both of them and rip them to pieces... not that she would get away with it, but they would not kill her - not without Beckett's permission. What the hell did he want from her?
"Mr Mercer...", she begun quietly, and felt something touch her bare shoulder. Some kind of soft brush... "Why did you not leave me in Singapore? What does Lord Beckett... desire?"
"Ah, I have my orders", he said and turned his back to her. He looked terrifying, even from behind, even though she could not see his horrible face. "And Lord Beckett's desires are none of your concern, miss Swann, I believe that he will reveal them to you, if they some day were to have something to do with you. But for the time being... I actually do not know why he wanted me to spare you."
"Did he actually advice you NOT to kill me?" she asked, surprised, and calmed down a little. Beckett did certainly not want her dead. Well, it made her feel a little better, but then again... maybe she'd be better off dead than in Beckett's hands. The expression 'Beckett's hands' made her shiver and she closed her eyes for a second.
"Yes, in fact he did."
"And what does that mean to you, Mr Mercer?" she asked teasingly. She might as well get her share of the fun, being captured and all...
"Nothing. As you know, I do NOT know what he wants from you."
"Isn't that annoying?" she said, and smiled devilishly. "You're his first man, his right hand... and yet he does not tell you everything."
"Miss Swann, you're on thin ice there", he said, and turned around.
"What's the point in acting all innocent when I know my captor does not want me dead?" she asked, realizing her question was quite clever, because Mercer didn't come up with an answer. Instead he turned to the man taking care of shoulder and took a few steps forward, then looked at her wound. Now she realized they had opened her robe in order to pull it down over her shoulder... but she was lying on her stomach, so it didn't really matter.
"It doesn't look too good, Doctor", Mercer mumbled and inhaled a sharp breath. "Is it infected?"
"Could be, it's too early to say. The bullet went straight through, luckily, you could have killed her."
"But I didn't. I would have killed myself at the same time, Beckett wants her alive... and prefers her unharmed. So do what you can to make this shoulder as good as new, you understand?"
"Yes, sir."
"Oh please, I can hear you", Elizabeth laughed, realizing her ridiculous this situation was. She was being taken care of by a Doctor hired by Mercer, who was her worst enemy's right hand... the situation couldn't get more hilarious than it already was, and neither could her mood. Maybe it was the drugs that made her feel so silly, but right now she just felt like laughing. The doctor took out something that looked like a dirty old needle, and Mercer flinched when the Doctor pushed the needle into Elizabeth's arm. Slowly, within minutes, she calmed down and lost consciousness.
*****
The next day.
It was about five in the morning, when two soldiers carried the unconscious body of Elizabeth Swann onto the Endeavour. Still wearing her robe, eyes closed, she looked exhausted, like she'd been through hell, which she actually had. She had gotten off lucky. In her mind she knew that, but it really didn't matter... she was still imprisoned.
None of the soldiers knew she was actually wide awake, just faking to sleep. Oh how she wished she'd get the chance to punch Beckett in the face and ruin his oh-so-perfect-smile...
Her body was dead weight in the men's arms, not that it matter, she hardly weighted anything, it was like carrying around a huge butterfly. None of them knew that Beckett was watching them intently through his window, smiling at her form, seeing how miserable she looked, how dirty, how tired... he was going to have a hell of a time with her. In every way.
*****
When Elizabeth opened her eyes, she was in a huge, warm bed with silky sheets. Some candles were burning on her nightstand, her room had a small window, but it was blurry, and it did not light up the room too well. It took a while before she realized the window was fine - it was her sight that was blurry. What the hell had happened to her? She tried desperately to sit up in the bed, but fell back quicker than she'd expected. Her head was pounding horribly, it was one hell of a headache... or was it?
They had given her something, that she remembered. Oh God, she was on Beckett's ship, she was sure of it. She could almost smell him in the room.
The room... Her sight was still blurry, but while concentrating hard she managed to make out some things... Her bed was huge, it would have fitted three people, there was a mahogany wardrobe against one of the walls, there was a heavy desk with papers, and a nice leather-chair... And then she saw something blue at the end of the bed.
It was her robe. Slowly she begun to realize that someone had undressed her, she begged to God it hadn't been Beckett or Mercer, than would have been more than humiliating.
She sat up after a few minutes of hard thinking, feeling a lot better already, and her toes touched the cold wooden floor. The silken sheet slid down her body, partially onto the floor. Her legs were shaking a little as she stood up, clenching her jaw as she felt a sharp jolt of pain through her spine. She was not all right. Not even close...
There was a mirror next to the big wardrobe. Knowing she'd probably never looked as horrible as she did now, she still decided to have a look at herself.
The first thing that caught her gaze was the wound beneath the edge of her right collarbone, where the shot had gone straight through... It looked all right, she had a scar, but someone had sewed it up, fixed it... But then again, she wondered how her shoulder looked. Turning around with her back towards the mirror, then looking over her shoulder, she saw a white, glowing scar, which was purple all around, like it had been infected... She reached behind and touched it - the second later she regretted it. Pain. She'd not do that for a while again...
Soon she slowly started walking towards the desk, hoping to find some information about her whereabouts, the floor cracking beneath her small feet. Maybe someone could hear she was awake? She hoped not.
There were a lot of thick folders on the desk, papers, all gathered up in fine piles, and as she looked closer she realized all the folders were organized in an alphabetical order. Then she saw something else, something familiar. Something that was of leather, it looked like a wallet, but she knew better.
Letters of Marque. Why were they here? Knowing she shouldn't, she took them, opened them and started reading. Oh yes, they were the same as the ones she'd persuaded Beckett to give her some months ago... But then she felt her heart stop beating.
The name next to Beckett's was James Norrington. It all made sense now. Sure she'd heard that he was alive, but this... Oh God.
She dropped the letters onto the floor and continued studying the desk. She was lost in her own mind, thousands of images in her head... She saw a dark coat resting over the chair behind the desk, she took a few steps forward, picked it up, and naturally brought it to her nose.
Beckett.
This was Beckett's cabin. She hesitated, almost making an attempt to run for the door, but then she realized she was strip naked, not wearing a thing.
With the black coat in her hands, tears forming in her deep, brown eyes, she started sobbing silently, hung her head, brought the coat up to her chest and held it against herself, even though the coat belonged to the man she hated more than anyone else... She needed something, feeling like this, feeling exactly like she'd felt for the last months, was becoming… too hard. She could almost feel herself fade away, she was so filled with guilt, hatred, tears, numbness... and without hope.
"I have to admit, miss Swann, I am very disappointed in you", a cold voice said from somewhere behind her.
Gasping her breath she turned around, only to see Beckett himself stand in the doorway. She hadn't heard him come in, she hadn't heard the door close, and now she panicked, wrapping the coat around her to cover herself, but it only made Beckett smile; a devilish, self-centered smile.
"Calm down, I've been standing here for a minute already, I've already seen you", he mumbled, turning his back to her and locking the door.
Elizabeth felt the walls falling down on her. She couldn't get away, not in any way, and she felt even weaker, her cries had only made her weaker. Searching for support, she backed up against the desk, leaning, getting the small support she needed to stay on her feet. She never blinked, never breathed while she studied Beckett lock the door and turn towards her.
"How are you feeling?" he asked. There was no hint of concern in his voice.
"You don't care", she answered, sharp, her eyes colder than they'd ever been before.
"How did you get the impression that I don't have any emotions?" he asked teasingly.
"What the hell do you want from me?" she spat, wrapping the coat around herself tighter, making sure he couldn't see a thing. His eyes were roaming her body, shamelessly, and she wanted to hide; under the desk, behind the chair, anywhere, just to get away from his gaze.
"Careful there, miss Swann, I will not tolerate that kind of behavior", he said, taking a few steps towards her (she automatically backed away, closer to the chair), hands behind his back. "But I'm still expecting an answer; how are you feeling?"
"Perfectly fine, I'm sure that will disappoint you", she snapped back, concentrating on weighting down the word DISAPPOINT.
"That is rather bold of you, Elizabeth."
"It's miss Swann."
"I shall call you whatever I want too."
"Oh, may I have the right to do the same?"
"No."
"Oh. Well then it's miss Swann to you, Lord Beckett." She shivered as she said his name, and he saw it, but interpreted it in the wrong way.
"Mr Mercer sent his apologize for the gunshot."
"Well you can tell Mr Mercer that he can go H-E-L-L." She spelled the word, looking exactly as she had when she had been disinclined to acquiesce to Barbossa's request a long time ago. "You allowed him to shoot me."
"I never thought it'd come to that", he answered, meeting her fiery gaze with his cold one.
"Well I hope you're happy", she mumbled, turned her back to him and picked up one of his pens from the desk.
"May I see it?"
"See what?"
"Your right shoulder."
"No."
"It wasn't a question", he said loudly, walking towards her, placing his hands on the coat she put around herself, tried to pull it down but she snapped out of her hypnosis, turned around and tightened it around her, looking angrily at him.
"Hands off", she spat.
A hard blow to her left cheek made her flinch and fall to the floor, gasping. He'd hit here, she hadn't expected that. The stinging pain was quickly numbing her cheek, and she crawled back, behind to desk, while he remained standing in front of it.
"This is not a game, Miss Swann. You are arrested. You should be glad that you're not in a prison cell below."
"I'd rather be there alone than in HERE with YOU."
"So feisty", he laughed, walking towards her again, but this time she stood up, started backing away, so that they were walking in circles. He didn't seem to mind, no one could have read his thoughts, his face was like stone. She was biting her lower lip, holding her arms around herself, but then she stumbled back and nearly lost her balance, and in a split of a second he was a few inches from her, turning her around and hooking her arms behind her back so that the coat fell down to the floor and he was facing the gunshot-wound on her back.
Her head fell back as she felt the pain in her back; twisting her arms around her back had made her shoulder blades squeeze together, and the pain that shot through her body made her whimper and scream, but he did not let go, he did not care. He held her arms hooked with his left arm while the other one slowly traveled up to the wound. He clenched his jaw, seeing the wound, realizing it was infected... He knew it hurt, she kept screaming, but as soon as he touched the wound slightly with his fingertips, circling it lightly, her screams got quiet and she hung her head, trying to catch her breath.
"It seems to be infected", he mumbled, looking at the purple spots.
"I know that." She'd stopped moving, accepting the fact that she would not win, she'd never win this fight. But he wasn't hurting her that badly, just studying the wound.
"I need you to lie down, Miss Swann", he said, let go of her arms and she snapped the coat back against her body before he got a chance to look at her.
"Why?" she asked.
"Because I am going to examine the wound", he said calmly, pulling his sleeves up and cocked his head towards the bed. "Now."
"But... could you turn around for... just a few seconds?" she asked, looking at her robe, which was on the bed.
"No."
"Damn it", she whispered to herself as she started walking towards the bed.
"On your stomach."
"Oh, please", but then she realized he was serious. Her cheeks blushed red as she sat down on the bed with her back to him, lay down, adjusting the coat so that it was covering everything beneath her should blades. She leant her head into her crossed arms, which were on one of the pillows, and then she felt the bed shift as he sat down. She didn't dare to look at him, feeling way to nervous and uncomfortable.
Beckett didn't touch her, he only studied to scar and the purple surrounding it for a while, then he took something out of one of his pockets. She didn't see what it was, actually she didn't want to.
A cold feeling, like cream, reached her shoulder and she gasped. She felt so disgusted, Beckett's hands touching her back, she tried to hold her breath, realizing it made her less aware of the feeling he cost her, but soon she felt dizzy and breathed out; but instead of a breath it sounded like a whimpering.
Beckett started spreading the creamy oil onto her wound in circles, hearing her whimper and fight the urge to say something evil. It was actually quite amusing; he sincerely tried to help her, and there she was, almost throwing up... It could of course have been from the pain, but he really doubted it. A small laugh threatened to escape his lips, but he held it in.
After a few minutes he stopped, drying up her wound, then washing his hands in the sink of water, which was placed next to her - actually his - bed. Elizabeth was still, he wondered if she was still conscious, but then she lifted her head and looked at him, eyes filled with tears. Beckett knew she was repulsed and frightened by him, she didn't dare to move.
"What did you do?" she asked, but it was more like a cry.
"Something that will numb the pain and take away the infection", he answered, crossing his arms over his chest. "Healing hands."
"Oh shut up", she mumbled into the pillow, but as soon as she'd said it she felt the bed shift and sharp fingers crashing into her neck. He'd straddled her back without her even realizing it, and now he was holding onto her neck and her hair, pulling her head up.
"Excuse me?" he whispered into her ear. "Would you mind repeating yourself?" He wanted her to say it again, just to get a reasonable reason to hurt her again.
"No", she whimpered and clutched the sheets with her fingers.
"Say it!" he screamed into her ear (she jumped) and pulled her hair harder (she screamed and felt tears welling up in her eyes).
"I said shut up!" she moaned and begged to God he'd let her go.
"My, my, she thinks she's so brave and all", he whispered into her ear, holding her hair in a tight grip. "You certainly seem to understand that bad words will... hurt you."
Were his fingers traveling down her back? No, she was just imagining it. Still this felt so awful, like she wanted to die right there and then. Please, just make it stop, let me go, she was begging, not out loud of course... though she wanted to.
Beckett just smiled, knowing very well how evil he was being, but he certainly was enjoying his revenge. She'd threatened him. That had been a fatal mistake. Now she was paying for it. But seeing her cry and whimper soon became boring, and he let go of her so suddenly that she lost her breath, and then he got up, gave her a humiliating look and took a look at the blue robe, which was lying at the end of the bed. Damn it was dirty, he couldn't understand why anyone, even a filthy girl like Elizabeth Swann, would wear something like that... But then again, it had to have been to some value to her, otherwise she wouldn't have kept it in her bed.
Little did he know that the robe reminded her of Will, how he'd grabbed it and pushed her out of the way before Mercer'd had a chance to shoot her in the head. She'd worn that the last time he'd touched her... before she'd been shot for real and taken here.
Somehow Beckett could see it in her eyes, it DID have value to her. Therefore he'd take it away from her.
"Wait, what are you doing?!" she blurted out as she saw him pick it up and head for the door.
"Not that it is any of your business, but it's going to get thrown away." He was calm, raising his eye-brows a bit, question her.
"Give it to me."
"And why's that?"
"It's mine."
He laughed out loud, looking at the dirty little piece of clothing, then looking at her, sitting there on the bed, trying to cover herself with HIS coat. "Let me make one thing clear here, Miss Swann. Nothing here is yours. Simply nothing. You are not in possession of anything. Understand?"
"Lord Beckett, you will not be taking something of mine away from me, I am still under the jurisdiction of Port Roy -"
"YOU are a criminal", he said harshly, his voice very cold and hard now, making sure she understood that he was not to be played with. "You have broken the law, you have been arrested for crimes against the Crown and Empire, you have been sentenced to hang, but I am still giving you some slack here. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
"Yes, but I do not agree with you", she blurted out, and as soon as she'd said it she covered her mouth, realizing she'd only hurt herself now by fighting with him.
"What was that?"
"Nothing", she whispered, moving back on the bed, a little farther away from him.
"You don't agree with me?"
"No... I mean YES!" she mumbled, closing her eyes and shaking her head. What was she doing, be quiet, be quiet...
"Ah, I see. You think that there still might be a chance for you to survive this. Well let me make this clear: you are under my control. You have no right to an opinion here anymore. It's that simple." He took a few steps towards her, making her shiver and get back again. "If you fail to follow my orders... the consequences might get very... painful." He smiled, wickedly, then suddenly became serious. "Then again... if you follow my orders and do well, you might even be getting some pleasure out of this in the end."
"What?" she whispered. "Never."
"Oh, do not take if for granted. It totally depends on you."
She was silent, and he took it like she'd finally understood what he'd said.
"Dinner will be served at 9", he said calmly, smiling, still devilishly. "Someone will come for you. I expect you to be ready by then. If you are looking for clothes, take a look into the mahogany wardrobe." That was the last thing he said before he unlocked the door and left, leaving her alone, panting, and as soon as she heard the lock crack, she screamed, covered her face and started crying.