Dark of the Moon (33-35/37)
May. 31st, 2006 11:04 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dwgmGetting to the last of this. Many thanks, again, to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
hereswith for repeated editing, and some suggested improvements for 35.
[33]
He was gone when she woke.
Admittedly, it was long past dawn, as she could tell by the light. The motion of the ship was different, too. They were not at sea. Barbados, then. And Jack was gone to see her uncle.
She lay for a long time, thinking. Of the things they had done the night before. She should be ashamed. So wanton. So unprincipled. She should be afraid, as well, for it was always possible he’d got her with child.
She bit her lip at that last thought, but the frisson that swept through her was not precisely fear.
Nor was she ashamed.
But… she could not help feeling it a bad sign that Jack had left the cabin without waking her. Did he regret what they had done? It might be. She knew now that Bootstrap Bill had been correct in his assessment of the situation.
She rose from the bed, betimes, evocative scents wafting up from the bedclothes as she did so. Reed would not be fooled for a minute. Nor Bootstrap if he happened by. She frowned over it, and ended by making up the cot herself, though she knew even that would be of little use in so small a space.
Jack had brought her fresh water, and a plate of fruit and biscuit. She washed, carefully, and dressed herself, ignored the food, and sat down on the cot, tried to read and fell asleep again.
A knock roused her sometime later, but it was Bootstrap who called through the door. “Mrs. Granger?”
“Coming!” She scrambled up, patted at her hair and straightened her gown before opening the door a crack.
“Jack wanted me to check on you, ma’am. He’s gone to contact your uncle. Would you like to take a turn around the deck? ‘Tis a pretty harbor we’re in.”
“I’d like that.”
“Reed’s gone off fishing with some of the lads. I’m afraid he’ll be late makin’ up the cabin.”
“Oh! Very well,” said Letty, hoping she didn’t sound as relieved as she felt.
*
They ate lunch with the captain, who seemed certain that Mordecai Huff would be willing to pay the ransom.
“Jack can be most persuasive, Mrs. Granger. No need to worry your pretty head over it.”
Barbossa said, rather slyly, “I must say it is pretty, today. Yer lookin’ very well, ma’am. Very well, indeed.”
Letty’s cheeks grew hot, but her voice was cold as she thanked him.
*
[34]
It was dusk by the time Jack returned to the Black Pearl. He went immediately to the captain to report success.
“I told him midnight, at Frenchman’s Cove. He’ll be there.”
“The price?”
“Barely blinked.”
“I knew it. He’s a wealthy man, old Huff. Probably could’ve asked twice that and gotten it. But I knew your heart wasn’t in it, lad.”
Jack shrugged. “We’re pirates. It’s our way, as you said, John. But aye, it’s enough as it is.”
*
Bootstrap was waiting for him.
Jack said with a careless air, “How’s the lass?”
“Pretty well. Askin’ after you, of course. Jack… did anything happen last night?”
“You want me to kiss and tell, again?”
“Was that all it was? Barbossa-- ”
Jack cut him off. “A little less curiosity and a little more attention to the ship wouldn’t go amiss, Mr. Turner. We’re headed ‘round to Frenchman’s Cove. Have ‘em run out the sweeps. Mordecai Huff’s expecting us at midnight.”
*
It was some time later, and the Pearl was well underway, when Jack went down to his cabin. He’d been on edge all day, uncomfortable guilt warring with extremely pleasurable memories of the previous night. It wasn’t entirely clear to him – he’d had a lot to drink. And what he did remember seemed almost a dream. Surely Letty had not been that willing… that eager.
She had been very sound asleep when he’d risen at dawn with a head that made him want to groan aloud. He’d left the cabin quietly, though, and staggered topside to wash himself down with cold fresh water as the Pearl glided into the forest-lined cove.
Barbossa’d come up to him. “How’s the girl?”
“Asleep,” Jack replied, repressively.
“Worn out, eh?” The second shook his head, sadly, but walked away, chuckling.
She had been worn out. She hadn’t stirred when returned to dress, at length and with attention to detail. As he left the cabin he turned to take a last look at her: bare shoulder and arm, white against the rough blanket; pale gold hair tangled and spread about; face flushed and at peace. He’d wanted to kiss those soft, curving lips once more. But he hadn’t.
He wondered how peaceful she’d look now, when she’d had all day to think about… things.
*
[35]
Jack must have returned. Letty could tell from the noise and the increased motion of the ship that they were heading out to sea again. But it was long before he came down to the cabin. She sat very straight on the cot in the fading light, pleating the skirt of her gown between cold fingers, growing more nervous by the minute. Perhaps he didn’t want to see her. Perhaps he was angry… or now thought her a light woman, of small account, no different than any seaport doxie.
By the time she heard his bootsteps approaching along the passage, she was sure that was it, and when his knock sounded she swallowed hard, rose, and went to the door, bracing herself. She tilted her chin up and opened the door.
He looked more uncertain than she’d ever seen him.
There was silence for a long moment. Then he cleared his throat. “The lamp’s not lit.”
“No.”
She opened the door wide so he could enter, then watched as he set about lighting the lantern. It flared, banishing the darkness, if not the shadows. She took in his appearance, noting the care he’d taken in dressing. He was… beautiful. Wonderfully exotic, every inch the pirate. “Was Mr. Huff impressed?” She gave a small smile.
He laughed shortly. “Aye. Impressed enough. We’re to meet him at midnight, a little cove a few miles from here.”
“Was he… upset? About Brian?”
“He’d already heard. Those we sent off in the boats reached land in a day and a half. Sent word to him. That man-of-war we ran across two days back was looking for us.”
Letty paled. “Jack! It’s too dangerous. You should not be here, near Barbados.”
His expression lightened. “We’ll see you off tonight and head out.”
“What if he warns them? They could send ships to ambush you!”
“He won’t. I’ve told him… well, we’ll have a pistol on you. And one on him. I told him to meet us alone, or your lives would be forfeit.”
“Oh! Good,” she said, relieved.
He gave a lopsided grin and put a hand up, brushing a thumb against her cheek. “Is this the proper attitude for a captive?”
She tilted her cheek against his hand. “I am not at all proper, I’m afraid. You must know that by now.” And though she spoke lightly, her eyes filled with tears.
“Propriety be damned,” he said, roughly, and, to her relief and delight, he drew her into his arms and kissed her. He then murmured against her lips, “Bloody hell, Letty, you’re not weeping again?”
“Yes.” She laughed through her tears, and put her arms around his neck. “How glad you will be to be rid of me!”
“After last night? You must be mad.” Another kiss, and she trembled with the joy of it.
Her voice trembled, too, when she could speak once more. “Mad indeed, after last night. I shall never, never forget you, Jack Sparrow!”
“Nor I you, Lettice Granger, my word on’t.”
A third kiss, long and ardent, the two of them lost in an embrace that sought to set these final moments alone in memory.
Which was how they were disposed when the door creaked open.
Jack loosened his grasp and growled, “Bill! What the devil?”
Letty turned, startled, and dismayed at the accusing glare Bill was directing at Jack.
“The captain wants you, Jack. Says to bring Mrs. Granger.” Bill then addressed Letty. “I beg your pardon, ma’am. He’d just come down, and I saw that the door wasn’t closed. Didn’t mean to…”
“Barge in?” Jack supplied, acidly. “Rudely interrupt?”
Bill gave him another scathing look. “She’s weeping, Jack. What in blazes am I supposed to think?”
Letty felt Jack stiffen, to issue an angry retort, but she shook her head, and stepped forward. “No! Mr. Turner, truly, I was just being silly.” She glanced between them, these fierce, handsome pirates, these two friends. How things had changed from that first terrible night, those first days aboard the Black Pearl. She smiled, rather mistily, and echoed Jack’s nonsensical assurance of two days back: “Don’t worry! It’s all right.”
*
TBC
hereswith for repeated editing, and some suggested improvements for 35.[33]
He was gone when she woke.
Admittedly, it was long past dawn, as she could tell by the light. The motion of the ship was different, too. They were not at sea. Barbados, then. And Jack was gone to see her uncle.
She lay for a long time, thinking. Of the things they had done the night before. She should be ashamed. So wanton. So unprincipled. She should be afraid, as well, for it was always possible he’d got her with child.
She bit her lip at that last thought, but the frisson that swept through her was not precisely fear.
Nor was she ashamed.
But… she could not help feeling it a bad sign that Jack had left the cabin without waking her. Did he regret what they had done? It might be. She knew now that Bootstrap Bill had been correct in his assessment of the situation.
She rose from the bed, betimes, evocative scents wafting up from the bedclothes as she did so. Reed would not be fooled for a minute. Nor Bootstrap if he happened by. She frowned over it, and ended by making up the cot herself, though she knew even that would be of little use in so small a space.
Jack had brought her fresh water, and a plate of fruit and biscuit. She washed, carefully, and dressed herself, ignored the food, and sat down on the cot, tried to read and fell asleep again.
A knock roused her sometime later, but it was Bootstrap who called through the door. “Mrs. Granger?”
“Coming!” She scrambled up, patted at her hair and straightened her gown before opening the door a crack.
“Jack wanted me to check on you, ma’am. He’s gone to contact your uncle. Would you like to take a turn around the deck? ‘Tis a pretty harbor we’re in.”
“I’d like that.”
“Reed’s gone off fishing with some of the lads. I’m afraid he’ll be late makin’ up the cabin.”
“Oh! Very well,” said Letty, hoping she didn’t sound as relieved as she felt.
*
They ate lunch with the captain, who seemed certain that Mordecai Huff would be willing to pay the ransom.
“Jack can be most persuasive, Mrs. Granger. No need to worry your pretty head over it.”
Barbossa said, rather slyly, “I must say it is pretty, today. Yer lookin’ very well, ma’am. Very well, indeed.”
Letty’s cheeks grew hot, but her voice was cold as she thanked him.
*
[34]
It was dusk by the time Jack returned to the Black Pearl. He went immediately to the captain to report success.
“I told him midnight, at Frenchman’s Cove. He’ll be there.”
“The price?”
“Barely blinked.”
“I knew it. He’s a wealthy man, old Huff. Probably could’ve asked twice that and gotten it. But I knew your heart wasn’t in it, lad.”
Jack shrugged. “We’re pirates. It’s our way, as you said, John. But aye, it’s enough as it is.”
*
Bootstrap was waiting for him.
Jack said with a careless air, “How’s the lass?”
“Pretty well. Askin’ after you, of course. Jack… did anything happen last night?”
“You want me to kiss and tell, again?”
“Was that all it was? Barbossa-- ”
Jack cut him off. “A little less curiosity and a little more attention to the ship wouldn’t go amiss, Mr. Turner. We’re headed ‘round to Frenchman’s Cove. Have ‘em run out the sweeps. Mordecai Huff’s expecting us at midnight.”
*
It was some time later, and the Pearl was well underway, when Jack went down to his cabin. He’d been on edge all day, uncomfortable guilt warring with extremely pleasurable memories of the previous night. It wasn’t entirely clear to him – he’d had a lot to drink. And what he did remember seemed almost a dream. Surely Letty had not been that willing… that eager.
She had been very sound asleep when he’d risen at dawn with a head that made him want to groan aloud. He’d left the cabin quietly, though, and staggered topside to wash himself down with cold fresh water as the Pearl glided into the forest-lined cove.
Barbossa’d come up to him. “How’s the girl?”
“Asleep,” Jack replied, repressively.
“Worn out, eh?” The second shook his head, sadly, but walked away, chuckling.
She had been worn out. She hadn’t stirred when returned to dress, at length and with attention to detail. As he left the cabin he turned to take a last look at her: bare shoulder and arm, white against the rough blanket; pale gold hair tangled and spread about; face flushed and at peace. He’d wanted to kiss those soft, curving lips once more. But he hadn’t.
He wondered how peaceful she’d look now, when she’d had all day to think about… things.
*
[35]
Jack must have returned. Letty could tell from the noise and the increased motion of the ship that they were heading out to sea again. But it was long before he came down to the cabin. She sat very straight on the cot in the fading light, pleating the skirt of her gown between cold fingers, growing more nervous by the minute. Perhaps he didn’t want to see her. Perhaps he was angry… or now thought her a light woman, of small account, no different than any seaport doxie.
By the time she heard his bootsteps approaching along the passage, she was sure that was it, and when his knock sounded she swallowed hard, rose, and went to the door, bracing herself. She tilted her chin up and opened the door.
He looked more uncertain than she’d ever seen him.
There was silence for a long moment. Then he cleared his throat. “The lamp’s not lit.”
“No.”
She opened the door wide so he could enter, then watched as he set about lighting the lantern. It flared, banishing the darkness, if not the shadows. She took in his appearance, noting the care he’d taken in dressing. He was… beautiful. Wonderfully exotic, every inch the pirate. “Was Mr. Huff impressed?” She gave a small smile.
He laughed shortly. “Aye. Impressed enough. We’re to meet him at midnight, a little cove a few miles from here.”
“Was he… upset? About Brian?”
“He’d already heard. Those we sent off in the boats reached land in a day and a half. Sent word to him. That man-of-war we ran across two days back was looking for us.”
Letty paled. “Jack! It’s too dangerous. You should not be here, near Barbados.”
His expression lightened. “We’ll see you off tonight and head out.”
“What if he warns them? They could send ships to ambush you!”
“He won’t. I’ve told him… well, we’ll have a pistol on you. And one on him. I told him to meet us alone, or your lives would be forfeit.”
“Oh! Good,” she said, relieved.
He gave a lopsided grin and put a hand up, brushing a thumb against her cheek. “Is this the proper attitude for a captive?”
She tilted her cheek against his hand. “I am not at all proper, I’m afraid. You must know that by now.” And though she spoke lightly, her eyes filled with tears.
“Propriety be damned,” he said, roughly, and, to her relief and delight, he drew her into his arms and kissed her. He then murmured against her lips, “Bloody hell, Letty, you’re not weeping again?”
“Yes.” She laughed through her tears, and put her arms around his neck. “How glad you will be to be rid of me!”
“After last night? You must be mad.” Another kiss, and she trembled with the joy of it.
Her voice trembled, too, when she could speak once more. “Mad indeed, after last night. I shall never, never forget you, Jack Sparrow!”
“Nor I you, Lettice Granger, my word on’t.”
A third kiss, long and ardent, the two of them lost in an embrace that sought to set these final moments alone in memory.
Which was how they were disposed when the door creaked open.
Jack loosened his grasp and growled, “Bill! What the devil?”
Letty turned, startled, and dismayed at the accusing glare Bill was directing at Jack.
“The captain wants you, Jack. Says to bring Mrs. Granger.” Bill then addressed Letty. “I beg your pardon, ma’am. He’d just come down, and I saw that the door wasn’t closed. Didn’t mean to…”
“Barge in?” Jack supplied, acidly. “Rudely interrupt?”
Bill gave him another scathing look. “She’s weeping, Jack. What in blazes am I supposed to think?”
Letty felt Jack stiffen, to issue an angry retort, but she shook her head, and stepped forward. “No! Mr. Turner, truly, I was just being silly.” She glanced between them, these fierce, handsome pirates, these two friends. How things had changed from that first terrible night, those first days aboard the Black Pearl. She smiled, rather mistily, and echoed Jack’s nonsensical assurance of two days back: “Don’t worry! It’s all right.”
*
TBC
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no subject
Date: 2006-05-31 08:16 pm (UTC)The changes work perfectly, my dear, and you know my thoughts on this, I love how they both worry beforehand, the awkwardness between them at first, and how that changes into tenderness and joy mingled with sadness. And Bill's obvious concern. The interaction between Jack and Letty is, as always, wonderful, and I like how you have Barbossa showing up now and then, being, well, Barbossa :-) Also, I don't know if I told you, before, how very fond I am of this little exchange: “How glad you will be to be rid of me!” “After last night? You must be mad.” ... "Mad indeed, after last night."
no subject
Date: 2006-05-31 10:15 pm (UTC)As I said, I hope to have the Epilogue written tonight (after I take a swim -- it's delightfully summery out and we've heated the pool). Oh the angst of the final bits! *sniffles, thinking of it*
I need to write something more comical, like Harry shooting that bad pirate off Italy. *G*
Thank you for commenting here, too. I am so happy to know you enjoy the story enough to look at it again!
*hugs*
no subject
Date: 2006-06-01 02:20 pm (UTC)*sniffles too, remembering, and in advance*
Yes, that would be fun! Or, you know, a little snippet with Tom and Anne all grown up ;-)
*hugs back*
no subject
Date: 2006-05-31 09:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-31 10:18 pm (UTC)Oh, Heavens, yes. I could've written her as a pious puritanical sort. But maybe he just would've chucked her overboard. *G*
Barbossa is so deliciously snakelike, isn't he? Such fun to write.
So happy you enjoyed this. One more post to go and I'll be done! (About time, eh?)
no subject
Date: 2006-05-31 10:56 pm (UTC)Awwww. That's just ... sweet.
evocative scents
How very delicate of you. Hee.
Of course Barbossa notices the little extra glow in Letty's cheeks, and had been waiting (vulture-like?) to query Jack.
Jack's POV chapter is lovely and delightful and (at risk of over using it) sweet. Barking at Bootstrap, worried about how Letty's going to receive him. Especially liked:
Surely Letty had not been that willing... that eager.
Every bit is wonderful.
no subject
Date: 2006-06-19 05:38 am (UTC)And of course Barbossa is being as needlesome as ever. He’s doesn’t miss much, does he? He scarcely knows Lettie, but he already has figured out what her nocturnal escapades were, whereas poor oblivious Bill hadn’t noticed a thing until Barbossa pointed it out.
I like how the captain is sensitive to Jack’s discomfort with ransoming Lettie.
A little less curiosity and a little more attention to the ship wouldn’t go amiss, Mr. Turner.
And I do love how Jack goes all stiff and superior officery on Bill, here. He’ll only be pushed so far. And one wonders what the emotion behind that reticence is.
It wasn’t entirely clear to him – he’d had a lot to drink.
What! Their one night together and he’s in his cups! *considers slapping Jack*. I sure hope those fuzzy memories are extremely fuzzily memorable!
And there’s that Barbossa being snide and sniping. I bet he’s jealous.
I love Jack’s picture of Lettie sleeping and his nervousness at what she’d think about their night later.
The juxtaposition of Jack’s and Lettie’s points of view is amusing here. Both of them are worried that the other regrets what has happened. *Snerk* As if!
He looked more uncertain than she’d ever seen him.
Awww! I do love Jack when he’s unsure of himself. It’s such a rarity that he lets that show later on.
She took in his appearance, noting the care he’d taken in dressing. He was… beautiful. Wonderfully exotic, every inch the pirate.
A moment of silent reverence for this picture please. Is it reverent to short out one’s keyboard with drool?
Ha! Lettie is all bloodthirsty and eager to have Jack threaten to kill her—worried all about him and none about herself. No wonder he’s pleased.
And their last kisses are so wonderfully romantic. I love how her weeping frames this story. Jack can’t stand it at the beginning, and now her tears are part of her he won’t forget. I like that he will remember her and promises her that. (Maybe there’s a little souvenir of Letty in Jack’s hair when Elizabeth doesn’t want to hear those stories in my “Marooned.” I think I shall imagine one there!)
“Barge in?” Jack supplied, acidly. “Rudely interrupt?”
LOL! Bill! *Tries to shoo him off* Talk about inopportune moments. It must be a genetic Turner trait!
She glanced between them, these fierce, handsome pirates, these two friends. How things had changed from that first terrible night, those first days aboard the Black Pearl.
Have I mentioned how much I like the way you write Bill and Jack here, and Lettie’s observations of the two of them. Things certainly have changed—for her, and Jack, and us.
And I like her reassurance that everything is “all right.”
Lovely as always.