Captain Elizabeth Turner (
try_corsets) wrote2010-07-14 09:18 pm
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Deep down, Elizabeth has known her time was very near. She isn't entirely certain how she has known, but she has. The thought has been drifting through her mind like a lazily meandering piece of driftwood, buoyant but easily pushed aside time and again, left there until she has the desire and fortitude to reel it back and firmly acknowledge the truth in it. For days Elizabeth has existed in a state of semi-awareness, barking orders and making plans, absently noting changes, all at the same time.
Because she's Captain Elizabeth Turner, Pirate King, and she has a position she is determined to maintain.
Somehow.
When the first pain hits, she thinks, Yes, there it is, and stares at her face in her small, cracked looking glass; so different now than the face she'd seen reflected back at her in Port Royal. Better, she thinks. Lived in. The corner of her mouth curves up, and the full lips in the mirror do the same. The scarlet sash today, she decides with a decisive nod, gingerly getting dressed as she had the day before, and the day before that.
Tai Huang eyes her half an hour later, as he is giving a report. Elizabeth slowly, carefully unclenches her fingers from the starboard rail. "The wind is shifting. Starboard tack." As she moves away she does her best to walk straight and tall, not waddle.
Everyone on board knows where to find the Captain at sunrise (keep a weather eye on the horizon), though she's rarely bothered these days. Still, when she gasps aloud and unbends her stiff shoulders to curl in, to try and stop it, two of the men Tai Huang and Gibbs like to keep in their sights guffaw from the main deck. Straightening takes no small effort of will, but she does it; and as she does, she sets her mouth in a thin line and decides, finally, that it's time to find Gibbs. Ready or not, the baby has had enough of waiting.
Because she's Captain Elizabeth Turner, Pirate King, and she has a position she is determined to maintain.
Somehow.
When the first pain hits, she thinks, Yes, there it is, and stares at her face in her small, cracked looking glass; so different now than the face she'd seen reflected back at her in Port Royal. Better, she thinks. Lived in. The corner of her mouth curves up, and the full lips in the mirror do the same. The scarlet sash today, she decides with a decisive nod, gingerly getting dressed as she had the day before, and the day before that.
Tai Huang eyes her half an hour later, as he is giving a report. Elizabeth slowly, carefully unclenches her fingers from the starboard rail. "The wind is shifting. Starboard tack." As she moves away she does her best to walk straight and tall, not waddle.
Everyone on board knows where to find the Captain at sunrise (keep a weather eye on the horizon), though she's rarely bothered these days. Still, when she gasps aloud and unbends her stiff shoulders to curl in, to try and stop it, two of the men Tai Huang and Gibbs like to keep in their sights guffaw from the main deck. Straightening takes no small effort of will, but she does it; and as she does, she sets her mouth in a thin line and decides, finally, that it's time to find Gibbs. Ready or not, the baby has had enough of waiting.
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The tune wafts her way and has her absently moving her head from side to side before she realizes what she's doing. Instantly, she frowns.
"Pardon me," she says in a way that suggests the whistler should really be doing the apologizing. When nothing happens to stay the catchy collection of notes, she eyes the table beside the bed, selects a cup made of a shiny red material and throws it at the curtain. "You there. Hello?"
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A few seconds later the curtain is drawn back.
Aaaaaand that's about the time when the girly scream appears.
"AHHHHH! How long have you been there?"
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"Hardly any time at all," she replies, gaze dropping to his stomach. Her voice is a tad higher when she asks, "And you?"
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"Well you know, clean bill of health and all that. You know, with the whole..."
Insert vague hand gesture round abouts his midsection.
"You?"
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"Over rigged," she says, flatly. "You've had yours?"
All in all, she does a good job of not sounding jealous.
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Though...it's not helping Mike's case any when he's not instantly sure what she means by "over rigged."
"I have! Couple of weeks now, at least. It...it's funny, I so thought I'd remember the day like it was yesterday but..." Here he simply shrugs.
"I was kind of out of it for a good chunk of it. They tell me I did great though."
He is, after all, a champion sleeper.
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"Congratulations."
She misses being able to bend.
"...out of it?" Was that hopeful? Quite possibly.
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"My water broke, but there was no where for it to go. Kind of sucked actually."
Mike's shrug is a simple one.
"Got a cool scar out of it at least. Well, for the time being anyway. You uh...want a hand?"
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With that, she leans back against the pillows and exhales slowly.
"Higher than a kite?"
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"Feeling no pain," he offers as a definition to higher than a kite. "You know, like, drunk to the point of feeling bulletproof?"
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"Like Jack and his jar of dirt," she exclaims, somewhat unhelpfully.
It is a logical conclusion.
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Beat.
Beat again.
Beat the third.
"Jack has a jar of dirt?"
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"He did, before he smashed it."
Beat.
"He believed it offered him protection from the reprehensible Davy Jones."
You see.
Well, actually, Mike just had Jack's wooden love child, so he probably does see, doesn't he?
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He has to repeat this because...well...because it's just one of those things that kind of requires repeating.
And yet...it's not a bad comparison.
"Yeah, it makes about as much sense as that. Though, it's a heck of a lot more fun than carrying around any old jar. Being high, I mean."
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Beat.
"Oh, he was quite high when he smashed it."
Beat.
"Toward the stern, as I recall."
This might be a joke. The jury is undecided.
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He's not sure, but...there's this nagging feeling that she's making fun of him.
It's...it feel like...like Leo is making fun of him.
"You're mocking me, aren't you."
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Elizabeth rarely does anything that doesn't benefit her in some way, after all. And yet, a case could be made for amusement's sake.
"It won't be long, will it?"
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It doesn't matter that it's none of these things be strictly true, but doesn't stop him. Truly, once Mike gets going precious little will stop him.
"No, not long now. Permission to come aboard?"
He gestures towards her feet. Mike remembers what waddling around on swollen ankles felt like, and...it was less than fun. What's a little foot massage between friends, really?
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"Granted."
Beat.
"Where's your child?"
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"Spending quality time with her...er...um...step grandmother? No, that's not...She's with Sallie. She's still a little soft around the poles to make a full on Bar debut, so we're trying to keep her as close to the mental link as possible. You know, for Bar's sake."
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Not quite. Between his words and strike the ship's colors and clap her in irons whatever he is doing to her aching feet, Elizabeth is well and truly confused.
Not that she lets it show much.
"Soft around the poles, you say?"
What?
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Her eyes find his. Quietly, she adds, "What is she like?"
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"Magellan? She's like no one I've ever met before. I can't wait to get to know her better, you know...once she starts to think in straight lines."
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