Aztecs' Curse

Chapter 13

     "What sort of a man trades a man's life for a ship?" Elizabeth asked angrily as she wrapped her hand, having had cleaned the cut. Will had, of course, told her everything that happened. And, though she was sure her sister had become fond of the pirate, even if Will refused to speak of it, she couldn't help but feel a sort of resentment towards him. She did, after all, care deeply for Will.
     "Pirate," Will responded absently before grabbing her hands and stopping her. "Here. Let me."
     She didn't argue, staring at him for a moment as he began to finish wrapping her hand, and she whispered, "Thank you."
     "You said you gave Barbossa my name as yours," Will said as he stared at her hand, his brows furrowed, and he met her eyes after a moment. "Why?"
     "I don't know," Elizabeth said gently after some obvious hesitation, and she let out a sharp gasp as Will pulled tightly at the wrap around her hand, pain filtering through it, and though she knew he hadn't mean to hurt her, she drew her hand back a little.
     "I'm sorry," he said, eyes still on her hand, as well as his own hands. "Blacksmith's hands. I know they're rough."
     "No," Elizabeth responded before stammering and looking up at him. "I-I mean, yes, they are, but..."
     Will glanced up from her hand as he finished tying the wrap.
     "Don't stop," Elizabeth told him quietly, eyes on his hands, before she looked at him again.
     Their eyes met after a moment of silence, and just as she began to lean in he did as well, raising a hand to her face and whispering, "Elizabeth." His lips started for hers, eyes on them.
     But, she drew back slightly, grabbing his hand and sliding it along the edge of her neck and down to her chest, and he gave her a somewhat thrilled and nervous expression before his brows furrowed when he felt his fingers touch what felt to be a medallion hanging from a chain, and as she held out the gold piece she was sure to grab before they escaped, he narrowed his eyes and touched it.
     "It's yours," she said. Though, she wished she had told him about it from the beginning. She yanked the chain from her neck as he grabbed the medallion completely.
     "I thought I'd lost it the day they rescued me," Will said, surprising her. She wasn't sure he would recognize it, as he had never brought it up as they grew up. He continued to gaze at the gold piece. "It was a gift from my father. He sent it to me." There was the smallest hint of a smile, which disappeared as he looked back over at Elizabeth. "Why did you take it?"
     "Because I was afraid that you were a pirate," Elizabeth admitted, attempting to keep control of her voice and not break down, sparks of emotions threatening the upbringing of tears. "That would have been awful."
     "Did Victoria know of this?" Will asked curiously.
     She slowly nodded. "She didn't want to chance anyone else seeing you with it either..."
     After a moment, he said, "It wasn't your blood they needed. It was my father's blood. My blood." He looked down at the medallion in his hand, and closed his fingers around it into a fist. "The blood of a pirate."
     Elizabeth shook her head. "I'm so sorry, please forgive me." She jumped as Will slammed his hand flat on the table, opening her mouth to apologize again--to say something that could possibly make him feel better. But, she couldn't find the words, and shook her head again before pushing herself up from the table and leaving him to himself.
     If anything, she only felt worse.

* * *

     "So you expect to leave me stranded on some beach," Barbossa said as he regarded Jack with a narrow-eyed incredulous expression, "with nothing but a name and your word it's the one I need and watch you sail away on my ship?" He chuckled in disbelief.
     Sitting at one corner of the table before the Captain, Cyrus studied Jack carefully. Though they had once been good friends, Jack completely ignored the man. But then, he spoke up. "Have you gone daft, Sparrow?"
     Ignoring his question, Jack lifted a finger, now finally giving Cyrus his attention. "You weren't always like this, you know." If anything, Cyrus used to actually care about the lives of others. At least, that was, back when his lover was alive. Though he had been somewhat sane when Jack was Captain, he knew he was losing screws, and he knew he was entirely gone when he had just allowed Barbossa to toss Jack out like he was nothing more than worthless luggage.
     "People change, Jack," Cyrus said, crossing his arms over his chest as he gave him an annoyed expression.
     "Obviously not for the better," Jack muttered.
     "Back to the topic," Barbossa said from his spot, though he looked plenty amused.
     Jack, who was only growing more smug by the moment, though he knew better than to be entirely cocky about any change in plans, said, "No--to your remark, of course." He stood from his spot in the Captain's room as he paced towards the table. "I expect to leave you on some beach with no name at all, watching me sail away on my ship, and then I'll shout the name back to you." He placed his hands flat on the table as he leaned over it, brows raising as he regarded his former first mate with an amused smile, ignoring the raised brows he received from Cyrus. "Savvy?"
     "But that still leaves me on some beach with naught but a name," he responded, "and your word it's the one I need."
     As he picked through the bowl of apples in front of him, Jack said, "Of the two of us, I am the only one who hasn't committed mutiny. Therefore, my word is the one we'll be trusting." After he finally settled with a firm, green apple, he sat down. "Although, I suppose I should be thanking you, because, in fact, if you hadn't betrayed me and left me to die, I would have an equal share in that curse, same as you." He took a bite of the apple in his hands, relishing in the sweet and sour taste it offered him, and glanced over at Barbossa, mouth full as he spoke again. "Funny old world, isn't it?"
     "Hmm," Barbossa said with a curt nod, still looking unsure and rather confused, a look that satisfied Jack.
     When he noticed the Captain's gaze flicker to the apple, Jack held it towards him as an offer.