Ghosts -- Norribeth fic
Title: Ghosts
Author: ash_night
Pairing: James/Elizabeth (Will/Elizabeth subtext)
Rating: PG-13 (for adult themes)
Genre: Romance, Angst, AU
Summary: Set immediately after The Cheshire Cat. Elizabeth is introduced to her new life. James and Elizabeth talk about marriage and her past.
Disclaimer: Disney and so on and so forth own these characters. I own very little, and thus must borrow said characters for a while.
A/N: No DMC spoilers. Reading The Cheshire Cat is highly recommended. This is the second ficlet in a series I'm working on. More to come, I swear! On a side note, feedback is always welcome!
---
She kisses him lightly. "Goodnight James."
He feels hollow and disappointed. "Goodnight Elizabeth."
She pulls the covers tight around her even though it is a warm night and closes her eyes.
He watches her fall asleep and finds he cannot fall asleep himself.
---
He waits for her to wake.
It is nearly midday when she does. She stretches and is startled to find herself naked before remembering the events of yesterday.
"Good morning Elizabeth."
She blushes, looking away, and tries to casually find her shift on the floor. "Good morning James." Her voice is high-pitched and high-strung.
She dresses quickly, awkwardly. A dark bruise blossoms on her neck. She finds it with her fingers and winces.
"I'm sorry," he says quickly.
She takes a deep breath. "I'll be fine."
She glances at him and finds the string of bruises leading from his neck down to his chest. She looks at the floor. "I'm sorry as well."
He feels an urge to hold her, but only says, "Don't be."
---
He shows her his home, their home, after a very late breakfast. This is the library. This is the wine cellar. This is the garden.
He tells her that she shouldn't worry about housework. He has hired new hands, and her father agreed to let her maid Estella accompany her to her new home.
He apologizes for the lack of decoration and refinements. He has been a busy man, but lets her know she is free to order furniture, paintings, silverware as she sees fit.
She listens carefully to his instructions, nodding. She misses her old life already.
---
They spend their evening in the library.
He peruses a set of reports, brooding over a map of the Caribbean.
She reminds herself to ask Estella to bring her books from her father's home as she flips mindlessly through the Bible.
Genesis with its Eden, then Exodus with its desert.
---
He glances up at her and ascertains that she is somewhere in the New Testament. Though he knows she is a fast reader, he knows of no one who can finish the entirety of the Old Testament, word by word, in one sitting.
"I'm sorry." The words escape before he knows it.
She looks like a lost and confused child. "What for?"
For boring you, for bringing you here, for marrying you. These are the things he thinks about, but does not say. Instead, he asks the question that has been echoing in his mind since last night. "Why did you marry me?"
---
The Bible in her lap feels too heavy and the air feels unbearably hot and sticky.
Damn him.
She can say, I love you. She can say nothing. She can feign shock and be utterly offended. She can faint.
She chooses to laugh nervously. "What kind of question is that James?"
"Is it because of Turner?" No title of respect.
Her breathing hitches. Will.
---
Will with his honest brown eyes and strong hands. Will who said she wouldn't and couldn't understand. Will who said he loved her. Will who left her.
She cannot lie to James, not to those green eyes.
His expression is inscrutable, restrained, but he looks, nevertheless, like a beaten man. She sees that brutal splotch of red and purple that he wears nonchalantly on his neck, his white shirt hiding the other marks.
Will said he loved her; James said he loved her.
The sky fell; the ground fell. Torn between the two men, she falls.
"Forgive me. I shouldn't have."
Her voice is soft and distant. "You were there when I had no one else."
---
She remembers that wretched night at the parapet where Will first kissed her. It was the night of the storm and the cold rain. The stone wall felt solid beneath her feet, the wind was a wild beast ravaging her skin. She remembers the heartbreak and that thin quivering edge between two worlds.
James pulled her away from that sea that captures too many lives. He made her drink cups of hot tea -- brandy would be improper -- by the snapping fire. The spotless blue jacket draped across her soaked shoulders. He listened to her cry and curse.
He saw her at her ugliest, as the truly ruined thing she was.
She knows that there has never been a better man than the Commodore.
---
Author: ash_night
Pairing: James/Elizabeth (Will/Elizabeth subtext)
Rating: PG-13 (for adult themes)
Genre: Romance, Angst, AU
Summary: Set immediately after The Cheshire Cat. Elizabeth is introduced to her new life. James and Elizabeth talk about marriage and her past.
Disclaimer: Disney and so on and so forth own these characters. I own very little, and thus must borrow said characters for a while.
A/N: No DMC spoilers. Reading The Cheshire Cat is highly recommended. This is the second ficlet in a series I'm working on. More to come, I swear! On a side note, feedback is always welcome!
---
She kisses him lightly. "Goodnight James."
He feels hollow and disappointed. "Goodnight Elizabeth."
She pulls the covers tight around her even though it is a warm night and closes her eyes.
He watches her fall asleep and finds he cannot fall asleep himself.
---
He waits for her to wake.
It is nearly midday when she does. She stretches and is startled to find herself naked before remembering the events of yesterday.
"Good morning Elizabeth."
She blushes, looking away, and tries to casually find her shift on the floor. "Good morning James." Her voice is high-pitched and high-strung.
She dresses quickly, awkwardly. A dark bruise blossoms on her neck. She finds it with her fingers and winces.
"I'm sorry," he says quickly.
She takes a deep breath. "I'll be fine."
She glances at him and finds the string of bruises leading from his neck down to his chest. She looks at the floor. "I'm sorry as well."
He feels an urge to hold her, but only says, "Don't be."
---
He shows her his home, their home, after a very late breakfast. This is the library. This is the wine cellar. This is the garden.
He tells her that she shouldn't worry about housework. He has hired new hands, and her father agreed to let her maid Estella accompany her to her new home.
He apologizes for the lack of decoration and refinements. He has been a busy man, but lets her know she is free to order furniture, paintings, silverware as she sees fit.
She listens carefully to his instructions, nodding. She misses her old life already.
---
They spend their evening in the library.
He peruses a set of reports, brooding over a map of the Caribbean.
She reminds herself to ask Estella to bring her books from her father's home as she flips mindlessly through the Bible.
Genesis with its Eden, then Exodus with its desert.
---
He glances up at her and ascertains that she is somewhere in the New Testament. Though he knows she is a fast reader, he knows of no one who can finish the entirety of the Old Testament, word by word, in one sitting.
"I'm sorry." The words escape before he knows it.
She looks like a lost and confused child. "What for?"
For boring you, for bringing you here, for marrying you. These are the things he thinks about, but does not say. Instead, he asks the question that has been echoing in his mind since last night. "Why did you marry me?"
---
The Bible in her lap feels too heavy and the air feels unbearably hot and sticky.
Damn him.
She can say, I love you. She can say nothing. She can feign shock and be utterly offended. She can faint.
She chooses to laugh nervously. "What kind of question is that James?"
"Is it because of Turner?" No title of respect.
Her breathing hitches. Will.
---
Will with his honest brown eyes and strong hands. Will who said she wouldn't and couldn't understand. Will who said he loved her. Will who left her.
She cannot lie to James, not to those green eyes.
His expression is inscrutable, restrained, but he looks, nevertheless, like a beaten man. She sees that brutal splotch of red and purple that he wears nonchalantly on his neck, his white shirt hiding the other marks.
Will said he loved her; James said he loved her.
The sky fell; the ground fell. Torn between the two men, she falls.
"Forgive me. I shouldn't have."
Her voice is soft and distant. "You were there when I had no one else."
---
She remembers that wretched night at the parapet where Will first kissed her. It was the night of the storm and the cold rain. The stone wall felt solid beneath her feet, the wind was a wild beast ravaging her skin. She remembers the heartbreak and that thin quivering edge between two worlds.
James pulled her away from that sea that captures too many lives. He made her drink cups of hot tea -- brandy would be improper -- by the snapping fire. The spotless blue jacket draped across her soaked shoulders. He listened to her cry and curse.
He saw her at her ugliest, as the truly ruined thing she was.
She knows that there has never been a better man than the Commodore.
---