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dwgmA little more Harry & the Pirate, a belated gift for birthday girl ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ladymouse2, 300 words set post Swann's Revenge and spoilery for same. This is also for the ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
potc100 prompt 'Eidetic' (I love it when I have to google a word!), and for last week's prompt at blackpearlsails, 'Protest'. As always, my deepest thanks to hereswith for beta reading.
~ Postnuptial Agreement ~
Their first instance of marital relations -- conducted with such care, at such length, and culminating in such perilous ecstasy that it virtually redefines la petite mort -- hasn’t sent Jack straight into the arms of Morpheus as it has his exhausted bride. He holds her, absently stroking her tangled silken hair, staring into the darkness. Flashes of the recent past play out upon the shadowed ceiling of the Pearl’s Great Cabin, scenes of bliss, and others less comfortable, even anguished, and replete with appalling detail.
In one vivid instance he’s standing, bruised and chained, in the governor’s study, Swann to the right, Norrington to the left, both set on gelding him should Harry confirm they’re lovers, that it’s his child she carries. And she does confirm it, entering warily, yet unaware of her brother’s true purpose until she sees Jack. Her color ebbs to white then, and she staggers, half fainting.
Looking back on it, Jack’s not sure he’ll ever really forgive Swann or Norrington for that moment.
Yet there’s piratical steel in the slight body that’s curled so peacefully beside him now.
Rather than tearful protests, Jack’s captors are tossed from their moral high ground by fury, contempt, and vehement reproval. Sworn promises of blackmail and revenge complete the rout.
He sighs aloud, still relieved that there’d been no need to resort to such measures.
“Jack?” She’s rousing, moving against him, one clever hand caressing him possessively.
“Harry love.” To his surprise, his voice is a cracked whisper. He bends his head to hers, submitting to her touch, his own rough hands finding solace in the warmth of her flesh.
“It’s all right,” she murmurs, and her lips brush his. “It’s all right.”
“I know. We should sleep.”
And firmly banishing care, eventually he follows his own advice.
~.~
ladymouse2, 300 words set post Swann's Revenge and spoilery for same. This is also for the potc100 prompt 'Eidetic' (I love it when I have to google a word!), and for last week's prompt at blackpearlsails, 'Protest'. As always, my deepest thanks to hereswith for beta reading.~ Postnuptial Agreement ~
Their first instance of marital relations -- conducted with such care, at such length, and culminating in such perilous ecstasy that it virtually redefines la petite mort -- hasn’t sent Jack straight into the arms of Morpheus as it has his exhausted bride. He holds her, absently stroking her tangled silken hair, staring into the darkness. Flashes of the recent past play out upon the shadowed ceiling of the Pearl’s Great Cabin, scenes of bliss, and others less comfortable, even anguished, and replete with appalling detail.
In one vivid instance he’s standing, bruised and chained, in the governor’s study, Swann to the right, Norrington to the left, both set on gelding him should Harry confirm they’re lovers, that it’s his child she carries. And she does confirm it, entering warily, yet unaware of her brother’s true purpose until she sees Jack. Her color ebbs to white then, and she staggers, half fainting.
Looking back on it, Jack’s not sure he’ll ever really forgive Swann or Norrington for that moment.
Yet there’s piratical steel in the slight body that’s curled so peacefully beside him now.
Rather than tearful protests, Jack’s captors are tossed from their moral high ground by fury, contempt, and vehement reproval. Sworn promises of blackmail and revenge complete the rout.
He sighs aloud, still relieved that there’d been no need to resort to such measures.
“Jack?” She’s rousing, moving against him, one clever hand caressing him possessively.
“Harry love.” To his surprise, his voice is a cracked whisper. He bends his head to hers, submitting to her touch, his own rough hands finding solace in the warmth of her flesh.
“It’s all right,” she murmurs, and her lips brush his. “It’s all right.”
“I know. We should sleep.”
And firmly banishing care, eventually he follows his own advice.
~.~
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no subject
Date: 2010-07-02 03:03 pm (UTC)I hope you might also find time for 'Crossing the Bar.' I've previously called that 'one of the best PotC fics ever written', and that's not a phrase I throw around.
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Date: 2010-07-04 03:16 am (UTC)Amen to that!