Oh dear. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dreadful dear. I have fic! *gasp* Who would have thought. Except, it's not quite all what you would normally expect from me. For starters... it's not
at all HP-related. No Remus. No Regulus. No!
It's
Pirates! As in Pirates of the Caribbean, love. And, to make matters worse, it's not slashy. No, no. It's het, leaning to the side of gen. Yep. I am stepping, for the first time (be brave, dearie!) into the realm of another fandom. And I'm not at all comfortable with it. No, no. But I present it to you with a brave face and then... *flees in terror at the response*
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Disney, as well as them other folk who created them. They are not mine. I claim no owernership.
Note: First time writing these characters, ever. Not beta'd. All mistakes my own. Feedback is love. SPOILERS for
Dead Man's Chest ahoy!
Not All Treasure's Silver and Gold
Pirates of the Caribbean| PG | Jack/Elizabeth
by earlwyn
Jack Sparrow was gone, along with his beloved Pearl, and all the inane swagger and slur that he decorated himself in, like jewels bestowed upon a king. He was gone, as good as dead for all she knew. The chance that he could survive, chained like he was to the mast, was not probable. After all, he was Captain Jack Sparrow. And though she would not want to admit it, the thought that he could best his way out of the danger of Davy Jones and his terrible beastie brought a smile to her lips. But that chance of that. Who knew? Jack had to run out of luck sometime.
Elizabeth huddled into herself as she sat with the remains of the crew. The sound of Will etching away at the wood with his dagger, a repetitive, harsh thud of anger and pain, mimicked the feel of her heart within her breast. The colours in her vision bleached to shadows and greys in the flickering candlelight of Tia Delma’s abode. The fire nor the drink could warm the chill in her bones. As if she were under that dreadful Aztec curse. But this one could not be undone by such trifling things as blood and gold.
“Already the world seems a bit less bright,” gruffed Gibbs.
A world without the scallywag and scoundrel. It seemed bleaker then it had when he was amongst her. Not in her presence, not for months, but she had listened for the stories and in that way he was still with her. Walking the streets of Port Royal, a stranded group of soldiers would speak his name and she would stop and listen to them bicker and quarrel over the facts and myths that surrounded the legendary man. A good man.
A man she had sent to his death. There could be no more stories now. No more adventures.
She could still taste him, if she searched her memory. When she had laid her lips against his, fully intent on her cause, he had startled at first and then returned her kiss. He never guessed it was one of betrayal.
"I’m not sorry,” she had said to him. It had been both a truth and a lie. She felt it now, burning within her, brighter and more chilling then the sun upon the cold, open sea. And when he realized what she had done, he only smiled that devilish half-grin. Mouth full of silver and gold, and a man worth more to her then all the treasure in the world.
