PRINCIPLES OF COMPROMISE
- Dis/Claimer- . Chapter Thirteen . “Elizabeth, may I ask what your purpose of our departure was just now?” Elizabeth spoke not a word until they were up the street far enough to turn a corner out of the sight of her father and Lord Beckett. After giving a subtle glance over her shoulder, she began to speak, keeping a good posture as commoners passed by. “I had a difficult night,” she said convincingly. “It was enough to follow Lord Beckett around all morning with his high step and arrogance, let alone not lose my short temper a long night has given me. Especially in front of my father. What scene that would have been.” “You have been slightly detached, I noticed,” Norrington responded with concern as they walked slowly. “Had I known, I would not have called on you. Would you like to take tea with me so that you may rest?” Elizabeth then slowed her step but did not answer. Puzzled, James looked over at her. “Elizabeth?” She did not reply again; her head was turned away from him in a fixed position. When James looked up, he felt a small pang of hurt – the blacksmith’s shop. He knew she was drawn to it, but he did not feel the need to beset more heartache to either of them this day. He inhaled a fortifying breath and straightened. “Come, Elizabeth,” he asked of her. “You are weary and need to rest-“ “I… I only…” She looked back at him reproachfully. “Just a moment?” Despite the plead in her eyes, Norrington did not want to leave her to wander into the shop without escort. She had said herself that she was not well. He began to shake his head, but Elizabeth cut off his words. “James.” Their eye contact was impenetrable and intense for a long moment. Elizabeth slipped a hint of determination into her helpless gaze that attracted him more than anything. She spoke softly, “Please.” James sighed, obviously not approving of her request. Though, he had not the heart to deny her, least not at this delicate time. He pressed his lips together, glancing over her beseeching eyes. He could not refuse her. “I will wait for you here,” he told her firmly. “Please don’t be long, or I will have to come looking for you.” Elizabeth smiled softly at his concern. She raised her hand and touched it gently to his face; a surprising but not unwanted caress. James felt his heart tense, and an improper desire washed him with guilt. Her hand slid from his face gracefully with a taunt of its own. As he watched her cross the street, James willed his solicitude with her since he would not follow. Elizabeth did not look as if opening the heavy wooden door to the shop was an obstacle in her path; she had opened it a number of times before, thus it was routine. Turning to close it, she glanced at Norrington briefly. His eyes stuck to her until the door became barrier between them, and Elizabeth exhaled soundly. A small guilt for lying to him surfaced, but white lies and outright lies both held no bitter taste anymore. Like the door, they had become routine. The shop before her, as expected, gripped at her heart mercilessly. The silence was filled with hopelessness and loss as not even a breath of wind could be heard. Mary, the donkey, lay quietly in the straw calm as ever. Elizabeth cast the animal a sorrowful glance. So much had died with Will. More than she could have imagined. She moved forward tentatively, going down the vast stone steps with her eyes fixed on the spot she had last seen Will lay. The strength of the emotions swelling in her throat was shocking but not. She felt her eyes begin to tear up and hurt as her chest began to heave silently. He was gone. From the darkness of the back wall Jack watched her sympathetically. She was more heartbroken than he’d ever seen a girl, even more than that one from Spain who had lost her mother, father, and eight siblings in a fire… She was touched by misfortune, but if anything, Elizabeth had been bombarded by heavy cannon fire. She stood in the pale of the stone and brick and mass beams, a true vision of tragic beauty. Jack knew this imagine would be burned into his memory for a long time, but his matter was pressing. He gently broke the silence from the dark shadows. “Amazing how that simple empty stare can tell one every tragic experience a person has encountered,” he mused aloud as he stepped out of the shadows slowly. Elizabeth’s eyes made a smooth transition from the ground to Jack, but they did not lose their mourning. She did not want to talk about this. “What is the urgency?” she asked him thickly, batting her eyelashes to remove their watery lining. “I don’t have long.” Jack stopped before her and looked up at her (as she still remained two steps from the floor). “This entire situation is about to be turned in my favor,” he said quietly with a delightful smirk. “It also might cause you some ease as to knowing more about William’s fate, or… it may cause you unease.” Breath caught in Elizabeth’s throat as her eyes grew slightly larger. “What do you mean?” she whispered, stricken with anticipation of what news he had. Jack’s eyes locked into hers purposefully as he took her hand. Elizabeth was caught off guard by this, not sure what was to happen as he stepped forward. She swallowed uneasily, ready to ask him outright what he had discovered, but she felt Jack overturn her hand and looked down. He opened her palm, holding lightly to the end of her fingers as his other hand was raised above her palm. She glanced up at him questionably, his eyes not on their hands. Elizabeth opened her mouth to say something (unsure of what exactly she was going to say), but her voice ceased to function as Jack placed a peculiar item in her hand – a small gold button. No, cufflink? Jack released her hand as she brought it closer to her eyes. She squinted at it curiously, taking it between her fingers and examining the intricate design on the cufflink’s golden face. Jack remained silent as her eyes ran over it many times. In a few short moments, Elizabeth was beginning to fear what it was. With a wavering voice, she asked, “Who does this belong to, Jack?” “I gather it’s not dear William’s then?” Jack asked quietly. Elizabeth confirmed it with the shake of her head. “I have never seen him wear a button so…” she looked directly at him, trying to be firm. “This is not Will’s. Where did you find it? Here?” “Near that woodpile,” Jack told her, motioning in its direction with his head. Elizabeth’s head shot up, and her heart sank even more; it was very near the spot of Will’s fallen body. She felt numbed for a brief moment before looking at the cufflink a little more aggressively. “I have to know to whom this belongs,” she stressed to him. “We must know! You will be spared and-“ She gave him a fearful look as if he might take a step back, but Jack merely sighed. “It’s not mine,” he said levelly. “How can I be sure?” she asked him lowly. “You could’ve stolen something with this on it. You’re a pirate.” “Well-spotted,” he said humorously before taking her arm and giving her a very dangerous glare. She was somewhat startled by this, but she held a firm jaw to him as she characteristically would. Jack narrowed his eyes. “If you’re going to keep blaming me for a death we already agreed on that wasn’t my responsibility, I don’t think we’re going to get much of anything done while Will’s real murder wanders freely about, don’t you?” Elizabeth continued to stare at him angrily. It did not phase him. “We only have four days, Elizabeth,” he murmured to her seriously. “Then you’ll have to be on your own to sort this out, face demons, and whatnot. Don’t you agree that upon rubbing elbows with the highest of society,” – he took her hand with the cufflink and raised it for her to look at again – “you might be able to find a viable culprit?” Elizabeth looked at the fine quality of the cufflink again. The image of swirling gold burned into her mind as she did so, but she looked up at Jack blankly. “I… I don’t know,” she said with honest turmoil. “It could be anyone, but who would have killed him?” “I think what you would rather ask is ‘who would have wanted him killed,” Jack pointed out. “Chances are whoever owns that is not one likely to it himself.” Elizabeth looked up from the cufflink. “But why?” “’Why’ is irrelevant at the moment,” Jack told her patiently. “You and I both know that no commonplace shopkeeper would have a trinket like that. So new and polished besides.” Jack looked at her with a searching eye. “Would the Commodore-?” “No,” Elizabeth shot out, offended at the comment. “He doesn’t. I don’t… No, I… he…” She looked at Jack, the thought never even crossing her mind. She became alarmed “James would not do such a thing,” she said defensively. “He cares about me. He would not want to see me hurt like this.” “Perhaps a bit of revenge against Mr. Turner so that he-“ “So he could marry me?” she laughed disbelievingly as her temper grew. “If you have forgotten, Jack, I was the one who materialized that lie without his consent,” she said heatedly. “It’s only because of… of Lord Beckett that it’s gotten so out of control and to the level it is n-“ Jack put his hand over hers that held the cufflink with big eyes and sly smile. Elizabeth was confused. She did not understand, but her mind subconsciously began to piece her words with his reaction. In an instant, she looked stricken with fright. Jack merely smirked. “Is it now?” Elizabeth’s mind was suddenly searching itself frantically, but it only frustrated her more. She felt tearful. “But… What motive does Beckett have?” she asked, not wanting this to be true. “Just because he has power… Well he never does anything but make others intimidated!” she blurted out under Jack’s steady gaze. “He always has some other guard or that clerk do his-“ A sudden flash of Mercer paralyzed her from only moments ago. The sleeve with the missing gold button. On his coat. The sun was not playing tricks on her eyes. Elizabeth felt weak. “The clerk,” she panted. Her hand began to tremble under Jack’s as she slipped to sit on the stairs, genuinely feeling ill. Jack fell beside her in surprise as she touched her aching chest. She felt as if she had taken a blow bigger than any ship could manage. Her heart raced painfully as she choked on tears. “Cler-clerk…” “What?” Jack asked. Elizabeth covered her mouth with her wrist as she swallowed, tears now appearing down her cheek. The panic and truth in her veins was almost ready to burst fatally. She wished they would as her head began to spin. “Mercer! Beckett’s… Beckett’s-“ A rush of anguish seized her as the vision of the lone cufflink on Mercer’s coat reappeared over and over in her head, and she silently held great tension in her chest that was not being properly represented by the few tears she displayed. Jack knew that that the emergence of more was likely. He curled her hand around the cufflink tightly and held her weary eyes despite how faint she looked. “I saw… it was missing from his coat just now,” Elizabeth sobbed forcibly. “It-it had to be him.” “Hold tight to this,” Jack said, trying to keep her focused and stable. His hands moved to her wrists, and he helped her to stand. Her darting eyes consistently rested on area near the woodpile. After a few deep breaths (none of which were too fortifying at this moment), Elizabeth seemed a transparent ghost washed out by a heavy storm of continual distress and dismay. Her hollow eyes shifted slowly to Jack, pleading for something he did not know. Her trembling lips then parted to speak. “Beckett didn’t kill him,” she stated. “He wanted him dead.” Jack nodded slowly. “Indeed, there is a difference.” He briefly covered her hand with his again. “Keep this until the trial at all costs,” he said. “It could be my freedom.” Elizabeth looked at the cufflink in her open palm expressionlessly. She looked up at Jack with a tall sense about her that he could not help but to respect of her. “It shall be,” she said. “Would you permit me to confide in my father about this? Hey may be able to help.” “I doubt he would take kindly to hear that you are aiding me,” Jack said honestly. Elizabeth pressed her lips together, but she knew him right. “I don’t think it would come as a shock, however.” “Keep it close until then,” Jack said, taking steps away from her now. “We have to sort this out for ourselves before we let anyone else know.” As he turned to go, Elizabeth had a surge of recollection ignite in her memory in the street. “Jack!” He spun around on heel. Her eyes were as large as saucers. She mouthed wordlessly until words found her. “Beckett and Mercer. They’re meeting later.” When Jack made no move, Elizabeth continued talking. “Mr. Mercer was speaking to Beckett just now in the street, and they agreed to meet later tonight.” She swallowed uncomfortably. “I think it may have to do with you. O-or Will.” Jack’s head tilted back with large eyes. A very curious bit of information. He held up his finger with narrow eyes. “Tonight then, m’lady?” His low drawl intrigued her, and she found herself nodding before she knew she was. Jack nodded with a deep bow, again turning to go out the back door. “See you then, Miss Swann.” She watched him go out the door, and he shut it with great care not making a sound. The eerie silence of the shop enveloped her again and gave her insecurity. She replayed Jack’s last few words in her head; they would be trailing Beckett and Mercer that night? Miss Swann? Why had he not just called her ‘Lizzie’ or ‘Liz?’ Arrogant stuff-shirted pira- Her eyes doubled. Miss Swann? Oh. Oh no. Miss Swann! James! James was still outside waiting. How long had she been gone? Quickly, Elizabeth wiped her eyes and cheeks with her kerchief before turning to the door. She flattened out her dress in a few places, did her best to resume an inconspicuous posture, tucked the cufflink away, and gently opened the large wooden door (however, it seemed slightly heavier since suffering an emotional drain). James was still faithfully awaiting her from the other side of the street in a perfect gentleman’s stature, and she was ever grateful for it. Of course his face was cast in shadows of worry, concern, and pity at the sight of her. Without word, she returned to his side, slipping her arm back into his. James was troubled at her silent coming, now regretting and reprimanding himself for allowing her to go forth. He watched her eyes sit transfixed on the buttons of his sleeves. “Are you alright, Elizabeth?” he inquired gently. She did not make a move for a moment, but then her crown of golden locks rose up until her face was bared to him. Elizabeth made visible a tiny, sad smile. “It will take some time,” she explained near a whisper. “Would you like me to escort you home?” he asked. “No,” Elizabeth sighed. “I would prefer the afternoon tea in your company. If the offer still stands?” James seemed to illuminate somewhat under the overcast blanket beset on the town that day, and Elizabeth widened her smile for him. The Commodore nodded once with a slight smile of his own and began to lead her up the street again. . Please Review .
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