Raven-Veiled Affection
TITLE: Raven-Veiled Affection (Sequal to Black-Winged Freedom)
WORDCOUNT: 1.222
SUMMARY: Elizabeth admits the truth - too late.
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but the plot.
WARNINGS: Character death from "Black-Winged Freedom"
A/N: This is the sequal I finally found the time to write. There will be a third part in this little series I'd like to call the Darkness Series. Sounds real grim, I know, but . . . . well, just read and you'll find out. ;)
Raven-Veiled Affection
Elizabeth awoke with a start, sitting upright in her bed. Her heart was racing in her sweat-beaded chest.
“Elizabeth? Are you alright, darling?” her husband’s concerned voice was alert but still thick with sleep. When she didn’t react, he put a soothing hand on her arm, gently stroking her damp skin. “Hey,” he whispered softly.
Gradually shaking off her shocked stupor, Elizabeth relaxed under Will’s touch, leaning onto his shoulder. As he gently stroke her tangled locks with a blacksmith’s rough fingers, his chest rumbled with the word he said. “Nightmare?”
She nodded, cuddling closer and wrapping her arms around his bare chest. She closed her eyes, trying to rid herself from the lingering shock of the bad dream.
“Do you want to talk about it?” He pulled her closer, kissing the top of her wild waves.
Elizabeth blinked. “I don’t remember what happened.” She stared at the open window. “But it was terrible.”
***^^***
“Governor Turner, Commodore Gilette is ready to report again,” the butler announced during dinner. “Shall he wait until your lordships have finished, or shall he enter right away?”
“Let him in,” Elizabeth ordered without batting an eyelash. She put her cutlery down as she glanced worriedly at Will, who nodded, concern evident in his dark brown eyes.
Worry and anxiety had led their every move that day since the morning when it had been announced to them that the Commodore had found Captain Jack Sparrow’s effects at the fort, evidence pointing towards a suicide. Uncertainty ate away at the young couple, the tension as unbearable as the image of what could have happened.
The following silence was heavy with that same dreading tension as both waited for the Commodore to enter. In a display of support, Will held her trembling hand in a sure hold.
After what seemed to be an eternity to Elizabeth, the man finally showed up, his expression blank as he stared straight ahead, saluting. “I duly report that we have made progress, your lordships.”
Elizabeth’s grip on Will’s hand tightened dramatically. “Well, what is it? Did you find the Pearl? Anything?” she pressed on.
The soldier’s gaze grew worried, sadness pulling down the corners of his thin lips. It seemed that he didn’t dare to say what he had to. He eyed the Governess with worry, watching with growing unease as her eyes filled with unshed tears. The Governor was tense, sitting stock-still and too upright, his jaw working.
Gilette swallowed. He couldn’t ban the emotion from his words as he said, “We’ve found Captain Sparrow’s body.”
***^^***
It was only now as she stood there in front of the urn that contained Jack’s ashes that she let it all out. All the emotions that had been shock-frozen for those past days melted down and crushed in on her like a giant flood, ready to drown her.
She didn’t hear a word Gibbs was saying. His weather-beaten face seemed to have aged at least a decade since she’d last seen him, his kind eyes watery and tired and so unbelievably sad.
She didn’t feel Will’s supportive arm around her skinny waist, his expression pained, concern for her and the grief of a friend’s loss carving wrinkles of worry across his forehead.
But she did see the urn that stood upon the sandy earth, surrounded by flowers and the pirate’s effects.
She did hear her own rapid heartbeat and how the blood rushed through her veins, mingling with the sea’s - Jack’s love’s - mournful cries as it beat the nearby shore.
She did feel the red-hot pain that ripped through her guts, tore her innermost and left behind nothing but the empty, hollow chagrin of loss. Tears run down her face as she didn’t bother to keep the sobs inside. They shook her with merciless force until she was down on her knees with her face buried in her hands.
He had saved her life numerous times, even before she’d met him in person. He had kept her cheerful as his stories had put her too sleep and inspired many a dream on the high seas; as his adventures had filled her long, lonely afternoons and his wanted posters had filled the top drawer of her nightstand.
He had always been there, sailing the Pearl, raiding some ship, seducing some high-born lady, adding the next exciting chapter to his legend.
It had been him who had made her reach for freedom, given her a first taste.
It had been him who had taught her about pirates, the sea, negotiation, the power of words.
It had been him who had introduced her to a whole new world, who had challenged her, teased her, provoked her.
It had been him whom she had first adored, first dreamt of, first . . . loved.
And it was only now that she knelt before his dusty remains that she could really admit this to herself. Now that it was all too late.
Another emotion harshly pulled her under as she tearfully tried to really look through her black veil at the grave: regret.
Regret that she had never had the courage to tell him how she really felt about him.
Regret that she had never taken the plunge to try and live this wild and exciting life that she had fantasized about since her toddler years - with him.
Regret that the one and only time she had kissed him she had betrayed him and left him to die.
She shook again with sobs as those thoughts taunted her. Not only did she feel the cold grip of loss around her aching heart, but the hopeless sensation of feeling lost was digging its claws into her delicate flesh. There was no telling how much this was killing her.
“It’s alright, Beth. Sssh.” Soothing hands caressed her arms before they took hold of them and gently lifted her back to her shaky feet. Once she was standing, a set of strong arms wrapped protectively around her back and waist, pressing her quivering frame securely to a broad chest. Calming endearments were whispered in her ear, soft “it will be alright”s murmured by the thick, emotion-laden voice of her husband.
She couldn’t speak as the tears kept coming and the sobs kept tearing out of her, remorse stabbing her like a knife twisting in her guts. But Will’s tight-muscled arms held her firmly together, stubbornly keeping her from falling apart at the seams.
Desperation had her clamber to him as the horrible truth dawned upon her with unyielding force: Captain Jack Sparrow was gone for good. There would be no bringing him back this time. Not ever.
But the shelter of Will’s strong body reminded her that she had an anchor even now that life threw her around like the sea would do a branch in a thunderstorm. He was there for her - always had been.
And she knew now, as she turned her head to look into his pained, hazel eyes, that not only did she have to scatter the remains of a legend into the liquid freedom of the sea, but also the shatters of a non-existent relationship; the shreds of her tattered and torn first love.
She had to live without the witty pirate, knowing that she had never been honest with him. Knowing that she hadn’t even tried.