Off the Edge of the Map

Desiderata: 19/20



Chapter 19

By the time the Black Pearl had been patched enough to allow her to be safely towed back to the Cove, night was beginning to fall upon the sea. Elizabeth retreated to the cabin and collapsed into a chair, rubbing at her eyes with filthy hands. With a sigh, she leaned back and propped her feet up on the table. Sleep had almost claimed her when she heard the cabin door click shut. Footsteps, as tired as her own, made their way over to her.

“Your Majesty will have to excuse the lack of proper quarters after a long day toiling in the sun – no doubt you’d prefer your tower room this night, and that enormous bed.”

Elizabeth took a deep breath of sea air, heavy with salt, and listened to the gentle sound of the water slapping against the Pearl’s hull. The great ship rolled beneath them, her creaks and groans as soothing as a childhood lullaby, and Elizabeth felt herself being pulled once again towards sleep.

“On the contrary, Captain Sparrow,” she said with a yawn, “I am much more comfortable here in this chair with the sea under my feet than I would be on the thickest mattress upon land, as I’m sure you are aware.”

“Aye,” he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. The chair beside her creaked as he lowered himself into it, and then a great sigh and the sound of a stopper being pulled from a bottle finally induced her to peek out from beneath her eyelids. Jack looked, if possible, even more thoroughly worn out than she was; his face was shadowed with exhaustion and streaked with dirt and sweat. He’d cut his hand sometime during the day and a strip of cloth that had once been white was wrapped tightly about the wound. Elizabeth reached out to gently place her hand over it.

“And where is young Benjamin?” she asked. “I saw him scurrying about the deck all day, running errands. Seems he’s made quite a few friends aboard your ship.”

Jack smiled through his tiredness. “That he has. Not surprised. Was fast asleep in a hammock belowdeck, last I saw him; wore himself right out with all that running.” He looked around the cabin.

“Was worried about the old girl,” he murmured, talking more to himself than to Elizabeth. “Didn’t know if she’d make it through after the squall, with the mast in that condition.” He shook his head and took a deep swallow of rum.

“Thomas was surprised to see her still afloat,” Elizabeth smiled, and Jack threw her a sharp look at the mention of the man’s name. “But I told him the Pearl’s spirit couldn’t be broken that easily. ‘Just like her captain,’ he said.”

“Did he now?” Jack looked away, but not before she caught the grudging respect that flitted across his face upon hearing the compliment.

“He did indeed.” She reached out and took the rum bottle he offered, lifted it to her lips, and drank.

“Cheeky bugger,” the captain muttered.

“He doesn’t dislike you, Jack,” Elizabeth insisted. “It’s his job to look after my best interests. He was merely doing his duty.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” A hand reached out and reclaimed the rum.

“You can hardly blame him,” Elizabeth said, biting back a grin. “After all, what man on this earth wouldn’t be threatened by the sight of Captain Jack Sparrow at his door?”

The pirate chuckled and took another drink, his harsh look dissolving. “Flattery will get you anywhere, love.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Anywhere?”

Jack returned her look. “And where is it that Your Majesty would like to go?”

Elizabeth hesitated. “To the island,” she said, looking hard at Jack, taking note of his reaction. He seemed surprised.

“Now why on earth would you have any desire to set foot upon that miserable strip of sand again?” he asked, looking at her curiously.

She shrugged. “Can’t explain it. I just have a sudden need for a fire. And perhaps a song.”

Jack’s lips twitched, his eyes upon the bottle in his hand. “Bad eggs?”

“Really bad eggs,” Elizabeth confirmed. She held his gaze. “I have fond memories of that place,” she murmured. “It’s where I became a pirate.”

The tip of Jack’s finger, calloused yet gentle, touched her chin; Jack raised her face until she was looking him in the eye. “There’s no making of pirates, love.” His voice was soft. “So were we born, you and I. Just had to get you out of that corset and into some rum before you realized it.”

“If I recall, Captain,” Elizabeth put on a haughty tone, pulling away from his touch, “it was you, not I, who ended up laid out on the sand, three sheets to the wind that night.”

“And if I recall, Captain,” Jack shot back, grinning now, “’twas you who bewitched me with those pretty eyes and allowed me to think I was not alone in me drunkenness.” He sat back in his chair, crossed his arms over his chest, and leveled mock-accusing eyes at her. “Woke up and the whole bloody place was on fire.”

“Allowing us to be rescued, which, in time, led to me becoming the pirate king, which further led to the situation we find ourselves in at present, which I would remind you, sir, could be far worse for you had I not come along,” she finished with a flourish of her hand.

“Expect me to be grateful, do you?”

Elizabeth struggled to keep a smile from her face. “I learned long ago not to expect anything from you, Jack, except, perhaps, the unexpected.”

Jack nodded. “Truer words, love.” Another swig of rum. “Although, Lizzie…” He glanced at her for a moment, before looking away. After an awkward clearing of his throat, he continued, “I’d be a fool not to be…..that is to say, anyone in my position, having been…..assisted, in a fashion, would have to express, in some way, a bit of….”

“You’re welcome, Jack,” Elizabeth said, rolling her eyes as he struggled to find the proper words.

“Yes, well, now that we’ve that out of the way.” The pirate looked relieved, and almost embarrassed as he settled his eyes once again upon her.

There were times, Elizabeth mused, when he saw her as a woman, and times when he saw her as a king, but this was neither. Instead, the look he directed toward her was one of simple gratitude, the gaze of one friend upon another, expressing thanks for a kindness rendered. Its warmth made her smile.

Elizabeth watched as the waning light brushed Jack’s lean frame; his eyes drifted closed and his fingers loosened around the rum bottle. The pink and orange sunset shining through the window caught on the trinkets in his hair. Here, in his one true home upon the sea, Jack drifted, seemingly able, for a moment, to take his mind off the torn sails and splintered mast just outside the cabin.

The drowsy, companionable silence was disturbed by a knock on the door. Jack cracked an eye open and threw an annoyed glance toward the tall figure lurking outside.

“Wassit?” he growled.

“Thomas Edwards to see Her Majesty, the King,” came a loud, firm voice.

“Speak of the devil and he doth appear,” Jack muttered as he raised the rum bottle once again to his lips. Elizabeth threw him an annoyed look as she called for Thomas to enter.

The door creaked open and a very tired man stepped inside the cabin. Thomas’s shoulders drooped under the weight of his exhaustion; he had spent his day traveling back and forth between the Fuerza and the Pearl, his sharp eye and quick thinking a valuable asset aboard both ships. Now he stopped a few steps inside the doorway, giving Jack a quick glance before addressing Elizabeth.

“Your Majesty, the anchor is secure, and I’ve assigned watches on both vessels. All is in order.” Despite his obvious tiredness, his gaze was firm upon Elizabeth and he stood with his shoulders straight, hands clasped behind his back.

“Thank you, Thomas.” Elizabeth smiled in gratitude, throwing a quick, wry glance at Jack. See how easy it is to say those words? “Go and rest – you look wretched.”

He hesitated. “Will….will you be returning to the Fuerza tonight, Your Majesty?”

“And what business is that of yours?” Jack interjected. Elizabeth watched as Thomas drew himself up even taller.

“It is my business to know where my king will be spending the dark hours ahead – we are no better than sitting ducks in these waters and should we be discovered by any-“

“Pirates?” Jack’s grin flashed. Thomas looked helplessly towards Elizabeth.

“I will return to the Fuerza,” she said firmly, resisting the urge to roll her eyes at Jack. “The ships are close enough together that I shan’t need a longboat; a stout rope will do well enough.”

“Going flying, are you?” Jack once again cut into the conversation. Elizabeth, once again, ignored him.

“Goodnight, Thomas. You’ve been most helpful today. As always,” she added.

Thomas gave a quick bow. “Forever in your service, Your Majesty.” He turned to leave the cabin, but was stopped by Jack’s voice.

“Fancy a drink, mate?”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jack wasn’t sure who among them was most surprised to hear those words come out of his mouth, but he’d lay odds that it was probably him. He dared not look at Elizabeth as Edwards turned slowly and regarded him with suspicion, as though the offer was likely to be some sort of trick.

“A drink?” Thomas looked toward the pirate king, as if expecting her to offer some clue into the motive behind this unexpected invitation.

“Rum, man.” Jack held the bottle aloft, the contents shining in the sunset’s glow. “A vile drink,” his eyes slid toward Elizabeth, “what turns even the most respectable men into complete scoundrels.” He grinned as she shook her head at him, eyes warm at the memory.

Thomas raised a skeptical brow. “Of course, not being a respectable man, and already a scoundrel, you wouldn’t know,” he said wryly.

Jack’s jaw dropped. Elizabeth was shaking now, biting her lip to keep her laughter contained.

“I’m going to try very hard to forget you ever said that,” he muttered, taking a long swig from the bottle.

“Don’t worry,” Elizabeth said, still chuckling, “I’ll remember enough for the both of us.”

Annoyed, Jack swallowed the remainder of the rum, wondering anew what had possibly compelled him to instigate this cozy little gathering. “Have a seat, Edwards,” he invited, holding the empty bottle aloft. “Her Majesty will fetch us more of the vile drink to which she is so strongly opposed.”

“I will not!” Elizabeth looked indignant. She crossed her arms over her chest and sat back in her chair, her feet propped once again upon the table. “I’m no one’s servant.”

“And yet we are both yours,” Thomas said with a heavy sigh, eyeing the proffered chair warily, as though once seated he would find himself somehow restrained.

“Speak for yourself, mate,” the captain growled.

Thomas looked from the Jack to Elizabeth and back again, then seemed to come to a decision. “We are all of us bound to obey the Pirate King,” he mused, as he wandered over to the cabinet on the far side of the room and procured another measure of drink. “And you and I,” he continued, picking up the chair from beside the bunk and placing it between the other two before sitting down, “are more bound then most.” He pulled the cork from the bottle and raised it in Jack’s direction. “Your good health,” he said, and took a large swig.

“My deepest apologies, gentlemen,” Elizabeth said, rising from her chair to retrieve a bottle of her own from the cabinet, “if your allegiance to me has you feeling at all constrained.” Jack watched as, rum in hand, she began a slow pace across the cabin floor in front of them. “Particularly since I’ve no need of either of you.”

Jack laughed aloud and in the chair beside him, Thomas did the same.

“No need of-?” The counsel looked at him. “Shall I go first?”

“Please do,” Jack gestured grandly, ringed fingers fluttering in the air.

“Begging Your Majesty’s pardon,” Thomas began, the rum beginning to flush his cheeks, “but who else would sit with you in the Hall for hours on end and listen to you dissect every verdict and order?”

“An excellent point,” Jack nodded, raising his empty bottle in the other man’s direction. “And most decidedly not begging Your Majesty’s pardon,” he hurried to add, placing one upraised finger in the air before him, “but without me, you’d never have set sail again and would’ve lost out on some truly…entertaining experiences.” He winked at her. “Savvy?”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, coming to a stop in front of them, resting the hand not holding the bottle firmly on her hip. “You are both drunk,” she said baldly. “And I’ve no stomach for any more of this shameless boasting.” Turning on her heel, she marched toward the cabin door. She had already turned the knob when Jack found his voice.

“And just where do you think you’re going?”

“Back to the Fuerza.” Elizabeth looked over her shoulder at him, then out the window at the darkening sky. “Since you gentlemen obviously have little use for my company.” Half turning back toward the two men, she regarded them with what might have been amusement. “You look quite at home, Thomas. You could almost be a pirate.” Then she spun on her heel and walked out into the night.

“I could not!” Thomas called after her weakly. Jack shook his head, rising from his chair to procure another full bottle from the cabinet.

“Definitely not,” he agreed. “But ‘twould be a great compliment to you if you could, mate.” Striding back over to his chair, he fell into it and uncorked the rum. Some might say he was drunk; Elizabeth had done. Jack preferred to think of it as an enhanced state of relaxation. “What d’you have against pirates, anyway?” he asked. “The lady whose lovely visage has so captured your attention, unavailable as she may be, is a pirate. I’m a pirate. Pirates, both of us, born and......well, born, anyway. And what’s so bloody wrong with that?”

Thomas considered his question for a long moment, during which time Jack endeavoured to make the bottle in his hand a bit lighter. The man’s voice was quiet when he spoke.

“My father is dead because of pirates.”

“Eh?” Recognizing that this conversation might turn out to be a bit more serious than he’d originally planned, Jack made an effort to sit up a bit straighter in his chair.

“He was a merchant trader,” Thomas began, directing his gaze out the window at the sky, which was now dark but for the slightest blush of sunset orange. “Made a good living, sailing his ship around the Caribbean, bartering his cargo for goods that my mother could sell at the market back home.” A slight smile tugged the corners of his mouth upward. “He loved the sea. Was always so impatient to get back out on the waves, just like Eliz-Her Majesty.”

“No need to be so formal in here, mate,” Jack said, beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable at the amount of information he was getting from the man. “She’s likely tucked safe in bed by now.”

Thomas didn’t appear to have heard him and continued his story, his eyes unfocused as if they were looking back into his memory. “There was a storm.” He glanced at Jack. “Not unlike the one which you’ve just endured.” His hands, clenched into fists on his lap, became the new objects of his study. “The ship was damaged, half the crew and most of the cargo lost. Father never was one to lose his head in a crisis; he patched up what he could and limped into the nearest port. Tortuga.”

“Tortuga!” Jack brightened. “Lovely spot! If ever you should feel the need for a bit of fun, there’s a small tavern....” His voice trailed off as Thomas shot him an angry look and he took a hasty drink of rum. “Right. Go on, then.”

“What happened after that isn’t really known – the only member of the crew to make it back alive was a young boy, and he’d been badly beaten. Wasn’t up for much of a conversation; just told my mother that her husband was dead. I was only nine years old.” Thomas pressed his lips together; he was shaking with pent-up rage. “That day, I vowed never to get involved with pirates.”

There was a long silence, then Jack raised an eyebrow. “And how’s that going so far?”

“Bloody horrible.” Thomas’s voice broke, and Jack realized that what he’d thought was anger welling up inside him had actually been tears.

“Oh, bugger.” He placed a hand on Thomas’s shoulder and patted it awkwardly as the man attempted to control his sobs. “No need to get all fussed.” He picked Thomas’s rum up from the table and pressed it into his hand. “Have some more of this – works every time. Calms the nerves, as it were.”

Thomas nodded and took a long swallow. The drink steadied him, and he took a deep breath, shaking Jack’s hand from his shoulder.

“I apologize, Captain Sparrow,” he said formally. “I did not mean to become so emotional.”

“No worries,” Jack assured him, grateful that the moment had passed. “I seem to have that effect on....tall blokes.” Shaking his head at the memory of Timothy’s drunken blubbering, he reminded himself to never share his rum with anyone whose reaction to the drink he wasn’t already familiar with. “What I wonder,” he mused, looking curiously at Thomas, “is why you remain at the Cove, given your rather unfortunate history with the likes of those who inhabit the place.”

“I’d think that fairly obvious.” Thomas looked at him with a knowing gaze. “Especially to you.”

“Indulge me.”

His request was met with a roll of eyes, but was not denied.

“Mum was never the same after my father died. She took ill the next summer and was dead within a week.” A shadow fell across Thomas’s face; he turned the rum bottle over in his hands. “I was left alone, at ten years old.”

Jack took another swallow of rum and prepared himself for another weepy chapter of the man’s history, but to his relief, Thomas held himself together.

“I had to find work, look after myself,” he continued. “No one wants to take in an orphaned boy off the streets. I got it into my head that I would take to the sea, like my father. I managed to secure a post as a cabin boy aboard a small ship bound for Dominica. Unfortunately for me, a few days into our journey one of the crew recognised me and convinced the captain that the pirates who’d killed my father would come after me next.”

“Can hardly imagine that so young a boy was a threat to anyone who called himself ‘pirate’,” Jack remarked. “Would hardly have been worth the trouble to find you.”

“An excellent point, Captain Sparrow.” Thomas smiled grimly. “And if you’d been there to convince them of the flaws in their logic, perhaps I’d have been able to continue my journey. As it was, I was thrown off the vessel at Shipwreck Cove. The captain barely slowed the ship long enough to deposit me on the dock.” His tone was bitter, the smile, bleak as it had been, was gone from his face. “Needless to say, I never saw him again.”

“Can’t imagine you were much better off at the Cove,” Jack mused. “Young boy could fall into all sorts of trouble there.”

“I managed to survive,” Thomas said darkly. Jack cast him an enquiring look, but he said nothing more.

“And now here you are, in the service of one perfidious and bewitching Pirate King.”

“Here I am indeed,” Thomas sighed. “I was assisting one of the magistrates in his work when word came that the pirates had elected themselves a king. The gentleman to whom I was apprenticed took a position in the castle and suggested I present myself as an adviser to the new monarch.” He shook his head. “A king, they said. I can’t for the life of me tell you what I was expecting, but…..”

“Whatever it was, I’ll wager Lizzie wasn’t it.” Jack grinned. “She has that effect on people.”

“That she does.” Thomas’s eyes strayed out the window toward the Fuerza sailing along ahead of them, as if hoping to catch a glimpse of Elizabeth standing at the wheel, under the brightly-lit stars. “She was so young,” he said softly. “A slip of a girl with all that golden hair. She stood in the doorway and looked around like the world was something new to her." His voice was near a whisper. "I never had a chance.” He seemed to remember suddenly that Jack was in the room, and cleared his throat loudly before taking a deep drink of rum. “Well, now you know why I dislike pirates.”

“Not all pirates.” Jack raised an eyebrow.

“No, not all pirates.” Thomas smiled suddenly. “Not the pretty ones, anyway.”

“Was referring to meself just then, so I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Thomas looked stricken. “I didn’t mean-“

Jack chuckled. “Only having a bit of fun.” Dropping the smile from his face, he leaned forward in his chair. “But you just remember one thing, mate. When our dear king has an itch what needs scratching, it’s me she comes looking for. That’s something you’d do well to keep in the front of your head, savvy?”

Thomas shook his head and rose to his feet. “Do not make the mistake of thinking yourself the owner of her spirit, Captain Sparrow. That belongs to her alone, and there’s no man on this earth – or under the sea,” he added, catching Jack’s look, “who can claim otherwise.”

“I’ve no desire to cage that which I’ve set free,” Jack said, masking the annoyance which bubbled up within him.

“Wasn’t you who freed her, was it?” Thomas started toward the cabin door. “Seems to me you owe a debt of gratitude to the captain of the Dutchman.” Pausing with his hand on the doorknob, he looked back at Jack, one eyebrow raised. “That’s something you’d do well to keep in the front of your head.” And then he was gone, the open door leaving the Pearl’s cabin awash in moonlight, the air stirred by the cool night breeze.