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Squaring Accounts - Chapter 18

by Melusina

Fandom: PoTC    Rating: NC-17    Dramatis Personae: Jack, Will, Elizabeth, Norrington    Full Header

The Nine of Cups
Wish Fulfillment-Satisfaction-Sensual Pleasure

Jack didn't like to leave his ship alone with a pack of women, and to be perfectly honest, he didn't feel entirely comfortable with Elizabeth being embroiled in something as chancy as this sort of magic. What he'd wanted (knowing it was a long shot) was for Anamaria to have some simple charm that would give him the jump on de la Cruz. He hadn't intended to hie his ship and all her crew to St. Pierre and put Elizabeth in the hands of some snooty bruja who Anamaria claimed could do what she couldn't. But he didn’t see that he had much choice. There was no defeating de la Cruz without some powerful magic on their side, and if Anamaria was unable (or unwilling) to help them, Jack supposed that they would have to trust Madame Reynaud.

To make matters worse, Will and Norrington had again declined to join Jack at the tavern. Will had said they were going to dine at Madame Reynaud's and retire early. Jack thought it was damned suspicious that they were off by themselves again, but if that's the way Will wanted it to be, Jack would just leave him to it.

At least he had better luck with his recruiting than he'd had the previous night. Word had spread of Anamaria's plans, and Jack was able to sign many of the Fortunes on to the Pearl for the six months that Anamaria planned to be in St. Pierre. Those who remained would be responsible for careening Anamaria's ship and making some improvements she'd decided on, and unsurprisingly, many of the men preferred to sail with Jack into battle rather than stay on shore and play shipwright. Jack was glad of any who wished to join him, for he'd been shorthanded ever since the debacle with de la Cruz, and he would need all the men he could get in the coming weeks.

Madame Reynaud had indicated that the men could return at dawn; as soon as the sun peeked over the horizon, Jack and the crew were rowing back to the Pearl. A strange mist wreathed her masts, and the early morning light seemed diffused and weak onboard the ship. The women were asleep on the deck: Anamaria and Madame Reynaud tangled together, and Elizabeth not far away, with Dinah curled up against her chest. A cloying, spicy scent filled the air, and strange symbols were marked all over the ship. Jack eyed the scene dubiously, then bent down to check on Elizabeth, somehow managing to knock heads with Will, who was already stooped over her slumbering form.

"Ouch!"

Jack rubbed his head resentfully. "How the devil did you get there?"

Will ignored this question (which was really more rhetorical, anyway). "She seems unharmed, but I can't wake her." In his worry, he completely forgot to give Jack the cold shoulder.

Jack gave Elizabeth's arm a shake and leaned in to smell her breath. No sign of liquor or any drug Jack was familiar with, but the warm, female scent rising up from her was irresistibly alluring. When he nuzzled her hair, still trying to place the scent, she stirred and made a lewd noise before growing still again. Her breath was hot on his thigh, and Jack felt his breeches growing tighter. His thoughts were fogged with lust, and everything else -- including the knowledge that the crew was watching curiously -- receded from his mind. Judging from Will's flushed cheeks, he was similarly affected. His tongue darted out and before Jack knew what he was doing, he'd slid his thumb across Will's wet, red lips.

There was a purposeful cough behind Jack, and Norrington said, "Perhaps you'd best take Elizabeth to your cabin until she awakes."

Will started guiltily and said, "Yes, of course!"

Reluctantly recalled to himself, Jack repeated, "Take her down to my cabin. Once we've set sail, I'll join you." Coarse laughter greeted this remark and Jack bristled. "What're you lot looking at? If we're to make sail this morning, there's work to be done. Get to it, you scurvy dogs!"

Only somewhat chastened, the Pearls scattered to their stations with many a crude jest, until only Tommy remained, watching Elizabeth with bemused amazement and a decidedly unboyish gleam in his eye. "You too, son," Jack added, cuffing his ear none too gently. The boy shook his head like a wet dog and scurried off.

In his concern for Elizabeth, Jack had quite forgotten Madame Reynaud and Anamaria, but the noise seemed to have awakened them. Anamaria looked like she'd been on a three day drunk; her hair was wild and disheveled and there was a dazed, distant look in her eyes. Madame Reynaud's appearance was equally disordered -- she was flecked with what appeared to be dried blood and there was a sooty smear across her face -- but she still managed to look perfectly composed. The space around her crackled with power, like the air before a squall.

Jack made a cautious bow. "So, did it work?"

A wry smile. "You could say that." She rubbed her thumb along the rail idly. "This is a most unusual ship -- Anamaria had told me so, but I did not realize the extent of it."

Jack stifled a laugh. "She has a few tricks up her sleeve. And she's a bit touchy of strangers."

Beneath Jack's feet, the ship rocked easily in the water and he could have sworn he heard a girlish laugh in the wind.

"She has been mistreated, yes? But she is in good hands now."

Anamaria leaned in close, whispering something too low for Jack to catch. Madame Reynaud's hand grazed Anamaria's and she laughed. "We must be going. Anamaria is eager to resume her studies."

"Is that what they're callin' it these days?"

Madame Reynaud smoothly intercepted Anamaria's raised hand. "A safe journey -- and victory -- to you and your Pearl, Capitaine Sparrow." With a stern look, she added. "Do not forget your promise. The knife must be destroyed, do you understand?"

Sincerity sat poorly on Jack, but there were times when it was called for nonetheless. "I do." He offered her his hand. "Thank you, Madame. We are in your debt."

Anamaria smirked, "Soft words from Jack Sparrow! Is there nothing you can't do, Solange?" Then her expression grew grave and she too offered Jack her hand. "Fair winds, Jack, and a following sea."

*

By midday, Will was nearly frantic with concern over Elizabeth. She'd slept the morning away, never waking when he carried her to Jack's cabin, or when the Pearl slipped out of the bay and out into open waters. He'd tried taking off her filthy clothes and wiping her face with a damp rag, but still she slept. His anger seemed petty in the face of his fear; with vivid clarity he recalled every cold word and wished he could take them all back.

After a time, she began to cry out, and Will worried that she was haunted by nightmares, but it soon became clear from the sounds she made and the way her body stiffened that her dreams were of an entirely different nature.

The tantalizing cries, the musky-sweet smell of her bare skin, the way she rubbed against him in her sleep only compounded Will's distress. He couldn't help but be aroused, but it seemed perverse to be so excited by her when she was unaware, especially when there was so much unsettled animosity between them.

He resolved to remove himself from the cabin for a while, in the hope that distance would ease his longing. As he stepped on to the deck, he nearly tripped over Henrick and a dark-headed sailor from the Fortune; they'd taken shelter just inside the hatch and had their hands shoved down one another's breeches. So preoccupied were they that they hardly seemed to realize that Will was squeezing past.

On deck, Tommy was mending lines with a sulky look on his face. Glad of the distraction, Will asked, "Everything all right, Tommy?"

"No, sir, it's not. Beggin' your pardon, but everyone's gone mad."

"Mad?"

"They're ruttin' like animals in every corner of the ship! And them that's not paired off are makin' eyes at everything that moves. Even Mr. Gibbs--"

"I see," Will said, hastily cutting Tommy off; he had no need of that particular image. "Perhaps it's something to do with the spell? I'll talk to the Captain about it. That is -- he's not. . ."

"Oh, no, sir. He's been at the helm. And he didn't take too kindly to it when Johnny suggested. . ."

"Ah. Well, you stay up here and keep yourself out of trouble. I'll talk to the Captain."

Jack was gripping the wheel tightly and muttering under his breath. As Will got closer, the words distinguished themselves. "Bloody goddess magic. How'm I supposed to fight a battle with a ship full of lust-addled, lecherous lunatics?"

Will hadn't yet considered this complication and the notion was sobering. "Do you think it will wear off?"

Jack shrugged wearily. "I hope it's a short term effect of the spell, and that things will. . .return to normal soon. But moon magic is unpredictable. There's no telling."

"It can be controlled, can't it?"

"With enough willpower. Not something pirates are generally known for." He would have said more, but Gibbs appeared, looking indecently sated. Jack gestured at Gibbs to take the helm, and indicating that Will should follow him, headed for the great cabin.

As they walked, Jack asked, "How's Elizabeth?"

"Still asleep." Will followed Jack down the companionway. Thankfully, Henrick and his new-found friend were no longer blocking the entrance.

At the foot of the steps, Jack turned and rested his hand on Will's shoulder. "She'll wake soon. That sort of thing just takes it out of you, 'specially if you're not used to it." His jovial assurance rang false and when he spoke again, there was a pleading note in his voice. "It was the only thing to be done, you know. I wouldn't have risked her otherwise."

"I know," Will conceded, distracted by the pressure of Jack's hand on his arm. Jack had barely touched him in weeks, and the warmth of his hand through Will's shirt only increased Will's arousal. Their quarrel seemed stupid and meaningless now, and Will felt half sick with longing.

"Have to fight fire with fire," Jack continued, warming to the theme. There was a feverish cast to his eyes, and an intoxicating heat seemed to pour off his skin. "I know you'd rather use cold steel, but sometimes you have to use more indirect methods. . .something like this calls for cunning and trickery. Sometimes you have to--"

With a jerk, Will pulled Jack's head close to his own, whispering against his mouth. "For the love of God, Jack, shut up."

A nearly silent struggle ensued, punctuated with breathless moans and muttered exclamations. Will pinned Jack to one bulkhead, kissing him wildly and tugging at his shirt, trying to get to bare skin.

It had been too long; Will had forgotten how overwhelming Jack could be. He stumbled, and Jack shifted his weight and pushed Will against the opposite wall, undulating so that their cocks rubbed together in a torturous rhythm.

"Missed you. . ." he hissed in Will's ear. "Missed this."

Will gasped as Jack's tongue darted into his ear. He could feel himself getting close, and he fought for control. It felt like they'd been a thousand miles apart, and now he wanted to make up for lost time. He wanted to feel Jack's bare skin against his own. He wanted to feel Jack inside him. He wanted to bury himself in the heat of Jack's body. Above all, he wanted not to embarrass himself in his clothes like a schoolboy.

With some difficulty, Will was able to squeeze his hands between their bodies and pull at the buttons on Jack's breeches, crying, "Wait, wait, damn you!"

Jack nodded, and bracing himself against the wall with one hand, distractedly returned the favor. When Will's hand brushed against Jack's cock, he slumped back and closed his eyes. Taking advantage of the opening, Will spun Jack around and held him firmly against the door.

Luckily, the oil was still in Jack's waistcoat pocket (Will wasn't sure he could have stopped, had it been missing). In his haste, Will splashed it everywhere, and the scent was overwhelming in the small space, evoking delightfully concupiscent memories.

Jack moaned gratifyingly when Will slid a finger in, and Will echoed the sound; the tight heat made his skin tingle with anticipation. He was at war with himself, wanting it now and wanting to draw it out, to hear Jack make that delightfully needy sound again and again. He forced himself to slow down, to twist and slide his fingers in and out until Jack was squirming and begging shamelessly. Finally, Will withdrew his fingers and pressed the head of his cock against Jack's opening.

Jack gave him a trenchant look over his shoulder. "What are you waiting for, an engraved invitation?"

Will pushed in with one deep stroke, and Jack drew a stuttering breath, then sighed when Will took his cock in his hand. It was all happening too quickly, and Will tried to slow his thrusts, but Jack was working himself back onto Will's cock, begging, "Faster. . .harder. . ." and Will was helpless to refuse. All too soon, Jack shuddered and gasped out Will's name, and the stricken, broken quality in his voice sent Will tumbling over the edge, muffling his exclamation in Jack's shoulder.

*

Elizabeth awoke to moonlight spilling through the stern windows. She was in Jack's bed, and Jack and Will were snuggled together beside her, looking friendlier than they had in weeks. She sat up, trying to gauge how much time had passed. Madame Reynaud had told the men not to return until sunrise -- had she slept the clock round? In vain, Elizabeth tried to remember the previous night. Snatches of it came to her, but when she tried to grab hold of them, they flitted away. She shook her head impatiently, setting the bed swaying.

Will bolted up, exclaiming, "You're awake!"

Distantly, Elizabeth remembered that she'd been angry with Will, but her rage had burned itself out. All she felt now was a great weariness with the whole business. She kissed him gently, and astonishment and relief spread across his features. As for Elizabeth, it was as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She felt full of love and forgiveness, and there was no room for the resentment and suspicion that she'd carried in her heart these past weeks.

He stroked her hair lightly. "You've been asleep all day -- we were terribly worried."

"I was dreaming. . ." She concentrated, trying to remember her dreams, and to sort out dream from reality. She was conscious of a sticky heat between her thighs, and with a shiver of lust, she realized she was undressed.

Beside her, Will seemed to have made the same realization, for he gathered her in close. "We guessed as much." His cock twitched against her thigh and she shuddered again.

His hand was dark against the paler skin of her breast, and her nipple hardened under his fingers. "They appeared to be very pleasant dreams."

"Oh, yes." He was nibbling on her ear, and she found it hard to focus. "But I--" She gasped as his finger slipped between her legs. "I. . .can't seem to. . .remember the details."

He grinned devilishly and rolled on top of her. "Perhaps this will refresh your memory. . ."