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In the Small Hours of the Night

by Melusina

 

Fandom: PoTC    Rating: PG    Pairing: Will/Elizabeth, Jack/Black Pearl, one-sided Sparrington    Full Header

 


Elizabeth brings the wailing baby back to bed, a warm, wiggling lump between them, smelling faintly of sour milk. She puts him to her breast and his fussy cries immediately cease, his tiny mouth clamping down with impressive force. There's a tingling fullness in her breasts when her milk lets down and then her eyes drift shut again as she softly hums, "yo ho, yo ho. . ."

Later, she returns him to his cradle and slips back into the bed. Will sits up sleepily and says, "Eliza-"

She scrabbles her fingers across his mouth frantically and whispers, "Hush! You'll wake him again."

Will snuggles up to her, and she can feel his grin against her cheek. He murmurs, "Since we're both up. . ."

*


Jack wakes with a start and goes to take the helm from Anamaria. She stays with him for a spell and they pass a bottle back and forth, arguing good-naturedly about their course. Jack enjoys her company, but he's glad when she claps him on the shoulder and heads for her hammock, leaving him alone with his Pearl.

There's a ring around the moon, but not enough clouds to obscure the stars. The wind whispers in the sails like a cradle song. Jack closes his eyes and savors the feel of his ship under him, the night-time ocean smell, the sure knowledge that all is right with the world. He takes another swig of rum and hums to himself, "Yo ho, yo ho. . ."

*


James' sleep is undisturbed except by his own thoughts. His rooms are as silent as the grave; "a fine and private place, but none I think, do there embrace."

He takes himself in hand, as much to exhaust himself as anything. He thinks first of Elizabeth, as he's seen her most recently, in a simple cotton dress, the bodice tight across her chest; but his body refuses to respond. He puts her out of his thoughts and searches for an image less fraught with disappointment. Unbidden, Jack Sparrow's dark, wicked eyes spring to mind, his rough voice singing that damnable song. With a gasp of surprise, James spends himself into the linen sheet, and in that moment it feels like something other than a shroud.

 

 

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