try_corsets | (no subject)

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Elizabeth will say this for the Brethren Court: once war is declared, they approach the matter with all the fervor they put into arguing against it. Boisterous and determined, they descend to their ships to make ready for the coming battle, all too aware that the enemy is probably already lurking outside the safety of Shipwreck Cove.

Not Elizabeth. The recently elected (by popular vote) Pirate King stands outside the meeting hall, waiting for Jack to emerge.

It's time, she thinks, that they talk.

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It takes a little while, longer than she might have expected, as Jack's busy spending a few minutes in low-voiced conversation with a certain Captain Teague.

But eventually he comes sauntering out, only to recoil when he spots her.

"Eaanngh."

Recovering himself, Jack touches two fingers to his hat and grins mockingly at her.

"Your Majesty."

Considering he's the cause of the honorific, Elizabeth is almost amused by his reaction.

Almost.

"Jack," she replies, in a way that suggests this conversation won't be limited to a simple greeting. And to be sure, she steps directly into his path. "Having another look at the Code?"

"All sorts of interesting things what's written in the Code," he drawls. "Useful, too."

"Yes, so I've come to understand."

It's exactly the sort of non-answer Elizabeth should know to expect from Jack. She gives him a look (the subject, it seems to say, is not forgotten) and continues:

"You voted for me." Beat. "Why?"

Jack cocks his head to one side, causing a coin to chime against one of the beads in his hair.

"Weren't you listening?"

"You agreed with me," answers Elizabeth; as if she could ever forget that, or let him forget it, either. "Was that the only reason?"

Her gaze is unwavering.

He winces a little, but doesn't argue the point.

"Reason enough, Lizzie. Reason enough. Besides--"

His grin is sudden and wickedly bright.

"-- I understand you, savvy?"

"No," she says mildly.

Her eyes graze over the dimly lit hall. It, like the rest of Shipwreck Cove, appears to be pieced together from various ships, and Elizabeth reaches out to touch a section of wood darkened by fire or cannon blast.

"I don't think you do."

Black eyes are sharp and interested, but he merely waves one hand in the air in elaborate dismissal.

"At least not now," she adds, as something of a concession.

Abruptly, she meets his gaze again and clasps her hands behind her back.

"If tomorrow has a happy outcome, I'll still be Pirate King."

"Suppose you ought to be getting yourself a shiny crown, then," he drawls.

There's a beat, and then Jack cocks his head to one side, watching her.

"Tell me, Elizabeth-- have you thought about what it is that we're to be facing on the morrow? Really thought about it?"

Given her recent experience with a crown-like headdress, Elizabeth feels her lip curl at the suggestion.

His question takes her by surprise. She's thought about it. Of course she's thought about it. She has not yet, however, allowed herself to consider the myriad ways in which they might fail.

"Which part, Jack?" She arches an eyebrow. "The possibility that I might join my father while trying to avenge him?"

But it's not just about vengeance. It's about survival.

He rolls his eyes.

"The part where you're about to be leading a ragtag armada of scallywags what at the most could be called independently concerned into battle against the Company?"

A beat.

"Ever read anything useful about that in any of those stories you always liked?"

Elizabeth shakes her head swiftly. "Against Beckett. And Davy Jones."

Those two are the real enemies.

"And yes," she snaps, advancing on him with her chin held high. "I've considered many not very good options, and find this to be our best chance. I'm well aware that pirates look to their own concerns first. The trick is in making sure that their concerns match yours." A meaningful look. "Or else you wouldn't have voted for me."

She takes a deep breath.

"Battles aren't always won on strength alone."

"Ah. Beckett and Jones."

There's something maddeningly knowing about Jack's wry smile.

"Wonder what it is that the two of them might be having to say about this new and unexpected development what's resulted in you being all... kingly?"

"That doesn't concern me even a little," she says dryly.

His smile is met with a flat look. Governor's daughter or pirate king: either way, there's a price on her head.

"I imagine they think we'll cower in our fortress like hunted animals."

"Expect they'll find out otherwise soon enough, aye. Though, come to that..."

Jack lowers his voice and leans in so only she can hear him.

"Not to be casting any manner of aspersions on your willingness to go to war and all that, but have you considered that were our illustriously businesslike and ... well, tentacly ... opponents to be informed of this change in the wind, that they might not but be wanting to back away from something what's more than any of them bargained for, savvy?"

Her eyebrow arches at his use of 'bargained.' Very careful not to move lest he take it as a personal attack -- this close, Jack is likely to be a bit jumpy -- she searches his eyes for some hint of what he must really be saying.

"You seem to know them both better than I," she replies, matching her volume to his. "Do you honestly think either can conceive of his defeat, whether we fight or not?"

She's counting on their pride.

Jack's sudden small smile could only be described as enigmatic.

"'Course not, Lizzie. The trick is to give them what they don't expect."

A beat, and then he waggles the fingers of one hand at her.

"And it's certain enough they won't be expecting you."

"Cunning," she murmurs, angling a glance over his shoulder as she considers. "I'd like another look at the Code."

"Ah yes. The Code."

He doesn't quite wince as he turns to look back himself, toward Teague's part of the hall.

"... you sure you need to see it with your own two eyes?"

"Yes."

Eventually.

"But you had a closer look." She eyes him in a determined fashion. "Did you spot anything relevant I ought to know?"

And then she'll study the Code.

"All sorts of things what you might find interesting, aye," Jack informs her. "Including, which as you already know, that it falls to the King to declare war and lead the combined forces in battle."

A beat, and then gold glints from a tooth as he grins at her.

"Happens as it's also within the rights, prerogatives, and other as might be aforementioned duties and obligations in such war to call for parlay."

That's very interesting.

Elizabeth gives him a shrewd glance, convinced Jack wouldn't be sharing this information without a clear purpose. But what would he gain if she called for parlay? That's something she'll have to consider before tomorrow.

"I don't think it will come to that," she says, not entirely sincere. "But it's good to know. Perhaps Captain Teague can tell me more."

She's watching him closely. It had been impossible to miss Jack's reaction to the Keeper of the Code.

"He's intriguing. Do you know him well?"

He manages not to wince.

Much.

"'Course I do. Teague's been the one looking after the Code for a long time, savvy?"

"He reminds me of you."

She's teasing. Mostly. There is a resemblance and Captain Teague had called him 'boy,' but before she can think further on the matter, Elizabeth remembers there's something she wanted to tell him.

There's someone he deserves to know he won't be fighting come tomorrow.

"James is dead," she tells him, looking down.

And at this, Jack looks visibly startled.

"Jim? You're certain?"

"Yes," she states darkly, forcing herself to meet his eyes.

As certain as she can be, without doing the deed herself.

"He helped us escape the Dutchman."

"... and didn't escape himself, is that the way of it?"

The look Jack's giving her now is guarded.

"Stayed behind, did he?"

That hurt. That hurt rather more than Elizabeth would have expected, and she should have expected such an answer from Jack. He's not likely to forgive her. After all, that's why she'd been waiting for him; she'd already made the short hop in logic that led her to conclude his vote had not been a vote of confidence or respect.

And yet she'd silently, naively hoped that rescuing him from the Locker would make things better between them. Not right, but better.

"He did, and I didn't even have to persuade him to do so," she snaps heatedly.

Eyes flashing, she pushes past him -- deliberately bumping his shoulder in a restrained shove -- and stares sightlessly at the hall.

After a moment, she adds: "Not that I have any need to explain myself to you, but I did suggest he accompany me."

"Ah."

Said with quiet realization. Jack remains still, watching her.

"Seems he found his redemption after all."

Elizabeth remains quiet for a long moment.

(It's too late to earn my forgiveness)

At last she takes a deep breath and turns, returning his look. Her eyes, no longer stormy with hurt and anger, are cautious and sad in the dim light.

"It seems so," she allows.

He nods, and the quiet clatter of the beads in his hair is strangely loud in the momentary silence.

And then Jack grins, sudden and wicked, and takes a sideways step around her and toward the far door, drawling,

"Now if there's nothing else, I've a ship what needs seeing to, if she's going to be sailing off to battle--"

As does Elizabeth. The corner of her mouth tilts up, just a little, and she shakes her head.

A moment later, she thinks better of it.

"Jack," she says slowly, "is Will all right?"

He pauses on his way past, and turns fully back around to face her.

"Only one way to be sure, now isn't there?"

Jack flashes her a maddeningly knowing grin, and quickly ducks out the door.

Elizabeth glares at the empty space he had so recently occupied. What sort of answer is that?

Tomorrow will tell.

Parlay.

Thoughtful, she lets the idea simmer amidst the annoyance. She has all night to make ready. There's time to have another look at the Code, if Captain Teague can be convinced to show it to her.

And she can, Elizabeth thinks with a grim smile, be very persuasive.

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