try_corsets | (no subject)

(no subject)

Together, the Black Pearl and the Flying Dutchman decimate the Endeavor, and with it Lord Cutler Beckett.

When the smoke clears and the armada of Company ships retreats, the pirates rejoice. Two equal terrors of the sea, Jones and Beckett, are no more, and the threat to that which all pirates love most -- freedom -- has been destroyed.

Elizabeth is not immune to the happy outcome, but nor is she entirely prepared for the emotional onslaught that follows. When her part in the celebrating is done, she slips below deck, heading for the spot where she and Tonks had slept for some of their long journey.

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Nymphadora had done a fair bit of celebrating, herself, but pirate parties are only so much fun when you can't partake of the rum stores. Also, 'Dora's exhausted. But she can't sleep; instead she's staring at a knot in the timber above her, wondering when -- and how -- she was going to get back home.

But the footsteps make her turn her head, and she smiles faintly at the sight of Elizabeth.

Face drawn, Elizabeth halts when she sees 'Dora. She's ashamed that she hadn't thought more of her friend during the long, chaotic battle; Mal would have done a much better job looking after her.

It's a fleeting feeling, soon buried under the heavy weight of what's happened to Will.

"The pitching around probably didn't make you feel very well," Elizabeth guesses, at a loss for what else to say.

"I'm all right," 'Dora says, waving a dismissive hand. "But how're you?"

Her face is impassive, compassionate. Because she cannot imagine.

Elizabeth looks down and makes like she's going to begin gathering her things, only to remember there's very little to collect.

"It seems silly to say, but I'm not sure," she admits, picking up a coil of rope they had used to practice knots. In a whisper: "It all happened so fast."

Murmured, "I know."

If it were her, in Elizabeth's place, if it were Bernard-- how would she feel? Relief that he wasn't truly dead, furious that his heart was wrenched away from him, grateful that she'd been given moments with him, angry that those moments amounted to a handful stretched over a lifetime?

Probably all of the above, she thinks ruefully.

"Anyway, it's done, isn't it? For better or worse." A sharp little laugh escapes her, and Nymphadora smiles faintly. "Rather like marriage."

"It's done."

Fighting the numbness that threatens to swallow her whole, Elizabeth tries to smile and meets with moderate success.

"I couldn't have imagined anything like this." Wryly, "We practically married ourselves."

It's easier to focus on that.

With mock gravity: "Sometimes you've just gotta take matters into your own hands."

Elizabeth's still fidgeting, and Nymphadora catches her hand, tugging her friend down beside her.

"So. What now?"

She doesn't resist.

"We have one day." A quick look, to see if Tonks understands the full implications of this. "After that..."

Glancing around at the dark wood of the ship, Elizabeth frowns.

"We will find your way home."

Nymphadora works hard to keep her voice light. "Any thoughts on that? Because I'm not actually above trying every single door, porthole, and window I come across."

"It may come to that," is her rueful response.

But now, at least, she's thinking beyond Will's departure for another world. Straightening, Elizabeth turns to regard her friend.

"The first time I found Milliways, I was in Port Royal. And the second." A firm nod. "That's where we'll sail."

"Okay."

'Dora gives her a reassuring smile, as much for her own benefit as for Elizabeth's.

A sigh.

"Anyway. Don't worry about me. It'll be all right."

It's quiet in this part of the ship, but Elizabeth's ears are still ringing with the sounds of cannon fire and steel clashing against steel. She nods again, stifling an inappropriate laugh at the words she'd told herself so frequently, back when Will's anger was the worst thing she could imagine.

"There's an island near Shipwreck Cove. That's where we'll go," she shares, voice flat. "Will you wait on the Empress? Jack and Barbossa are sure to leave."

'Dora knows that feeling, how the after-images of battles that keep flashing long after they're passed.

"Yeah. That'll be fine."

Adopting a slightly mischievous and falsely innocent air, she leans closer to speak conspiratorially. "So, you're feeling all right about the whole... wedding night... thing?"

Elizabeth starts, dark eyes going wide with sudden realization.

"I hadn't-" she chokes. "I thought only of seeing him again."

She blinks. A whole new set of concerns pushes its way to the forefront of her mind; it's both a blessing and a curse.

"I don't..."

A bewildered look: Oh, this is embarrassing.

Nymphadora flails. "Don't freak out! No freaking out."

She takes a deep breath, simultaneously glad she asked, and wondering why she can't keep her big mouth shut.

"Okay. Right. Tell me what you know." At Elizabeth's horrified look, she hurries on: "You can be vague!"

Good, they have an accord: no fits of apoplexy. Annoyed at the slip, Elizabeth quickly gets herself under control and straightens until she looks in danger of snapping in two.

"I understand the mechanics," she says stiffly, then frowns down at her hands. "That doesn't concern me.

"But what should I do if he's not interested?"

Lilly hadn't thought it would be a problem, but then it had been. Even though things are vastly different now, Elizabeth feels compelled to ask anyway.

Honestly baffled, 'Dora frowns. "Not interested? In sex? With you?" She fumbles for a moment, lost for words. "Has he been... not interested before?"

Elizabeth cuts her eyes at the wooden planks above their heads.

"He's very... proper."

Or at least he used to be. When they weren't married. With a soft groan, she realizes she had better get used to their changed status before she runs out of time to truly appreciate it. And that, unsurprisingly, is a sobering thought.

"I'm sure it won't be a problem now," she adds hastily.

"I'm sure," agrees Nymphadora sagely. "But if all else fails, just take off all your clothes. Works every time."

Nymphadora is an extremely effective distraction. Elizabeth isn't thinking about one day, or ten years, or ten years after that.

Indeed, there's a gleam in her eye that has nothing to do with sorrow.

"If I can manage on my own," Elizabeth says mildly, arching an eyebrow and gesturing to her elaborate clothing.

"I've found," she offers, "that given the proper incentive, such things are rarely a problem. And can, in fact, add to the fun!"

'Dora manages to keep a straight face for two whole seconds, and then dissolves into giggles.

Smile betraying her distraction and strain, Elizabeth slips her eyes closed. Though she's never felt less like giggling, 'Dora's laughter is oddly soothing and helps her fight the mental image of Will's prone body as his new crew advances to cut out his heart.

It's going to be comforting having the witch by her side. After.

She grimaces and stands, suddenly eager to return topside.

Quietly: "Will you need long?"

"Nah," she says softly, shaking her head. "Go on up."

Elizabeth nods and says, "I'll have the boat made ready."

She's several paces away before she realizes she can't leave it there.

"Thank you," she offers, solemn and sincere. "Somehow, I'll see you return home."

But she won't worry about it until tomorrow.

A genuine, if slightly crooked, smile pulls at her mouth. "I know."

Another nod, and Elizabeth hurries above deck.

She gives her friend a small smile and a wave as 'Dora is helped into the boat that will take her to wait on the Empress, but for the rest of the short journey to the island, she has eyes for no one but her husband, staring back at her from his Dutchman.

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