Chosen Path

Elizabeth donned the warrior’s garb she had been given by Sao Feng all those years ago before entering the lair that had been his. It was hers now, technically, though she had been absent for long enough for someone else to have claimed the territory.



She led them to the gates of the bathhouse, Billy – William – in Ragetti’s arms, Barbossa covering their backs. As a both Pirate Lord and King, this was her mission to lead. Being second in command didn’t sit well with Barbossa, but for now, he grudgingly accepted the role.



The bathhouse was much the same as it had been the last time they arrived. The guardians at the gate still bade them remove their weapons, but Elizabeth’s menacing glare at the twitch in the guard’s countenance ensured that she would be removing no clothing.



When she arrived at the front of the steam room, it was not, of course, Sao Feng who stood there, but Tai Huang, the pirate who had refused to acknowledge her as Captain, until it was in his best interests to do so.



One of the gate-guards announced their presence. “Her Majesty the King, Pirate Lord and Captain Elizabeth Swann. Pirate Lord and Captain Hector Barbossa, and his crew.”



“Tai Huang,” she greeted the pirate. “Or is it Captain Huang now?”



“It is. Captains Swann, Barbossa. You are welcome in Singapore.” Barbossa offered a small bow, but Elizabeth did not. As King, she did not think it fitting that she should bow to anyone. Tai Huang was a Captain, but she was both a Lord and King; she was his superior twice over. Barbossa shouldn’t even be bowing, really, but overreaching romantic gestures seemed to please him, so she allowed it.



“I thank you. I trust things are well.”



“Not as well as they might be. You arrive not a moment too soon. But come, we shall discuss business after you are settled. You must be wanting to take advantage of our hospitality.”



She glanced around the steam room. The heat of the room had penetrated her clothes and was beginning to loosen muscles that had been cold and tight for months. Yes, a bath would be most welcome.



“There are private rooms in back.”



Elizabeth glanced at Barbossa, who gave nothing away, and the crew, who were clearly eager, enticed as much by the lovely attendants, no doubt, as they were by the bath itself. “We would be delighted.”



One of Tai Huang’s attendants, a young woman named Ming, escorted Elizabeth and William to a private room where two tubs were filled with steaming water. Ming helped Elizabeth to bathe William, then offered to take him to play with her own two children while she bathed and dined with the other Captains.



“William, would you like that?”



At his eager nod, Elizabeth allowed the kindly woman to look after her son. She was apprehensive about leaving him, but her gut told her that even if Tai Huang was untrustworthy, William would be safe with Ming. Besides, it would be rather impossible to conduct any sort of business while attempting to feed an interminably restless two year old.



William seemed happy enough to run off with Ming's other charges, but before they left, she offered Elizabeth towels, a dark silk robe, and an assortment of scented soaps and oils.



“Use jasmine. Captain Barbossa will like it.”



Elizabeth looked up in surprise. “Captain Barbossa? I don’t understand. He and I, we’re not, that is, I mean, it doesn’t matter if he likes it!”



Ming gave her a knowing look. “I see how he looks at you. How you look at him. He will like jasmine.”



“You saw us for perhaps five minutes! How could you possibly know that?”



“With such passion as yours, five minute is enough.”



With that, Ming departed. Elizabeth frowned as she slipped out of her clothes. She hadn’t thought they had been particularly obvious about the relationship they had developed over the past five months. Barbossa had been all business the past several days, using their private moments to discuss their expectations for Singapore, rather than engaging in more intimate activities. And there was every possibility that they wouldn’t have the opportunity for intimacy during this visit at all. Still, as she slipped into the gloriously hot water, sloughing months of dirt from her skin and combing out her hair, she decided there would surely be no harm in using the jasmine-scented soap.



It didn’t seem quite right for the Pirate King to wallow too long in her bathwater, especially if there was a concern to be addressed. But it had been far too long since she had enjoyed a bath, and she couldn’t resist languishing for just a few minutes longer than was strictly necessary. She let her eyes close as the hot, soapy water eased the aches and stiffness that had accumulated after nearly a year at sea.



A year at sea. It was hard to believe she’d been with the Pearl for so long. Billy, as the crew insisted on calling her son, was two and a half now, and more than a handful. Barbossa had never answered her in words when it came to helping raise him, but had made a few attempts at taking some responsibility. Not that they had all gone particularly well.



The first time she had left Billy in his care, she had been called back not five minutes later to find the boy’s head caught between the rails of the ship, and Barbossa for once at a complete loss as to how it had happened and how to fix it. It had taken a lantern worth of oil and the better part of half an hour to extract him. They came to laugh about it later, but it took some time before her anger subsided and she was willing to trust him with William again.



Elizabeth smiled now at the memory. For all that Barbossa claimed to have helped raise six siblings, parenting was clearly not something he was accustomed to. Still, he had made an honest attempt with William, and her son truly adored the Captain, likely more than she herself did.



Elizabeth felt her smile fade a bit. “Adore” was probably too strong a word to describe her feelings towards Barbossa. She harbored some sort of affection for the man, admired him, certainly, and quite enjoyed the time they spent together. He’d been a source of the most intelligent conversations she’d had in years, and had shown her pleasures she’d only ever dreamt of, and some she never had. As they traveled south, the skies had grown increasingly unfamiliar, but he had been her constant guide, helping her navigate the unfamiliar paths in the skies and seas.



And now, in Singapore, she would likely Captain her own ship, and after Barbossa’s tutelage, was confident that she could. It was the reason he had taught her, after all, so she could claim her title with the skills needed to back her command. Yet, she couldn’t help feeling reluctant to leave him. They hadn’t discussed it, but the closer they got to Singapore, the more their pending separation clouded their intimacy.



The water had begun to cool, and Elizabeth rose and stretched. When she dried off, she rubbed some of the oil Ming had left into her now much less sore muscles. As the heady scent of the jasmine filled her nose, the oiling slicking her skin, she couldn’t help feeling a touch of regret that it was her own hands applying it.



Elizabeth replaced the stopper on the bottle of oil and wrapped the silk robe around herself, sliding into the slippers she had been left. The robe was only a bit longer than the last one she had worn, but at least she was mostly covered. It made her feel much better to discover, upon emerging from her bathroom, that the rest of the crew was similarly clad.



Barbossa’s robe, she was irked to see, covered him far better than hers, hanging just below his knees. The thin fabric clung to his skin, and she realized she was probably staring, but she struggled to pull her eyes from him. When he came to stand beside her, she caught the scent of some exotic spice emanating from his person. Perhaps Ming had suggested a fragrance for him to use as well. In any case, he had made a good choice. The heady scent made sent her reeling, with the realization that there was precious little separating the skin of her body from his.



“Captains,” Tai Huang interrupted her reverie. He, too, had donned a robe, also offering more coverage than her own did. “We have much to discuss. You will dine with me this night.”



The crew was happy to be escorted to another room to dine with the attendants and other patrons of the bathhouse, while Elizabeth and Barbossa joined Tai Huang at his table.



When they were settled, Elizabeth at one end, Tai Huang at the other, with Barbossa between, a servant poured tea.



“Well,” Barbossa began, “what’s this trouble yeh mentioned?”



Elizabeth glared at him, willing him to read her thoughts. This was her meeting, she was King, and he hadn’t the right to challenge her ranking. He seemed to understand and offered a nod of deference.



“Apologies, Majesty.”



“Thank you, Captain Barbossa. Captain Huang. Please, tell us of this trouble you mentioned.”



She ignored Barbossa’s rolling eyes and focused on making the two sticks at her place setting fit neatly between her fingers, the way she had been taught years ago. She hadn’t quite gotten the motions down then, and struggled to find the right positioning now. Barbossa’s hand covered hers, stilling her motion. She glared at him, but put the chopsticks down.



“Captains,” Tai Huang began, “since Sao Feng’s death, there has been no Pirate Lord in the South China Sea. Mistress Ching has built up her fleet, and desires to claim the Sea as part of her territory. I have tried to push her back, but I am no Lord, and haven’t the authority.”



A servant brought them soup, to Elizabeth’s relief. There was a spoon beside the bowl that was presented for her, and though it was oddly shaped and ornately decorated, it was familiar enough to use without looking foolish.



“I have the authority, but no ship. I would take the Empress, but have you any others?”



“The Dragon. We captured her just a week ago. She needs repairs, but will be strong in battle when she is mended.”



“Would you Captain the Dragon then, Tai Huang, if I led the Empress?”



“The Dragon would suit you better, I think, but I will defer to your will, Majesty. However, it will be some days, perhaps weeks, before the Dragon can sail.”



Elizabeth nodded slowly, sipping the last of her soup. The plate of food that came to replace it looked and smelled wonderful, especially after weeks of ship fare, but she grew apprehensive at the thought of trying to eat it with those sticks.



“I am willing to wait, if you will continue to have me as your guest here. But two ships cannot take on a fleet! Have you any others?”



“No, but Ching does not sail with more than two or three ships at once. We would not face the entire fleet. She lets her ships roam the Pacific at will.”



“A poor leader?” Barbossa queried.



Tai Huang shook his head. “She trusts her Captains.”



Barbossa opened his mouth but when Elizabeth nudged his leg with her foot, he shut it again. “In any case, it is good news for us. The Empress is a fine ship, and if the Dragon is as well, then we can challenge a fleet of two. Barbossa, can we count on the Pearl as well?”



“I haven’t decided yet.”



Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. Admittedly, this wasn’t his fight, but she’d expected he would support her. She certainly didn’t like the idea of going into battle without him. But he avoided her gaze, focusing instead on his supper.



Barbossa, to Elizabeth’s annoyance, was expertly wielding his chopsticks; half his plate was empty. Elizabeth tried again to pick hers up, mimicking his motions, since he was closer than Tai Huang, and not a mirror image of what she had to do. She managed to pick up a piece of meat, but as she lifted it to her mouth, her grip faltered and the meat went flying.



Elizabeth’s hand flew to her mouth. The meat landed in the middle of the table, and not, at least, in someone’s tea or lap.



“Do you need a lesson in chopsticks, Captain Swann?” Tai Huang’s mouth twitched, and Elizabeth felt her face grow very warm.



“I’m sorry, I’m not used to them.”



Barbossa was closer, and took it upon himself to offer the lesson. His hands were warm on hers as he positioned the sticks. “Like ye’d hold a quill.” She recognized his voice as the gruffly patient teacher who had schooled in her the ways of navigation and captaincy. He had used his hands to guide hers then, too. His touch still set her alight, and she wished she were wearing a few more articles of clothing. Her body knew how easy it would be to climb into his lap and nudge his robe open, and her mind hoped the desire did not show.



It was several minutes before she felt confidant, and she wondered if she let herself flounder whether he would hold her hand again. Tai Huang cleared his throat, though, and she realized she was smiling at Barbossa like a foolish maid, and averted her eyes, focusing on her plate. She successfully managed to eat a mushroom and rewarded herself with a long swallow of tea. She knew how to drink tea, even if the cup had no handle.



“Then we have two ships for certain, three if Barbossa can be convinced. Have you crew enough for the new ship?”



“Of course, Captain Swann. I have thought of this already.”



“Good. Will Mistress Ching be amenable, do you suppose, to conversation? It would be preferable to discuss the situation, if possible, I think. As a Pirate Lord, I would certainly not see her killed.”



“That is my thought as well, Majesty.” Elizabeth was glad Tai Huang agreed with her. “But we must offer a show of force or she would not grant an audience.”



Elizabeth frowned. “Even a parlay? She must grant audience to the King.”



“She will not respect us if she can defeat us easily.”



Elizabeth nodded, understanding. “Then it will be better if we can count on the Pearl. When can we expect your decision, Captain Barbossa?”



“How long will the crew be welcome in Singapore, Captain Huang?”



Tai Huang steepled his fingers. “Until we set sail, if you are with us. Otherwise, we will not be so hospitable. But you are welcome this night either way.”



Barbossa nodded. “Then ye can expect me decision in the mornin’.”



Elizabeth was having considerably more success with her meal, though the rice proved elusive. She tried lifting her bowl to her mouth as the men did, but when she wound up with rice in her lap, she decided she wasn’t really hungry anymore.



When the meal was through, Tai Huang bid them goodnight, and Ming returned with William to escort them to their rooms. Ming gave the two Captains a knowing smile as her gaze drifted from one to the other. Elizabeth felt the heat rising again to her cheeks as she glanced sidelong at Barbossa. She caught him smiling down at her and turned away, certain she was blushing.



“Your quarters, Captain Swann.” The room Ming showed her was lovely, with a small sitting area in one corner, a large, ornate bed as its centerpiece, and several large screens cordoning off one section. “A bed for your son,” Ming explained the screens. “Captain Barbossa, would you see your room?”



“Aye, but Captain Swann?” Elizabeth turned from her examination of the pattern in the curtains. “I’ll be wantin’ a word with ye.”



Elizabeth nodded. “Then I shall await your return.”



Elizabeth carried her yawning son into bed, tucking him into the softest silk sheets she had ever felt. Her sheets in Port Royal had not been so luxurious. Barbossa’s linens, though fine, had grown somewhat stiff after months at sea. She let her fingers slide over the fine silk. She had not enjoyed life nearly so much as she had since becoming a pirate, but she couldn’t help relishing the sensations of being clean, well-fed, and having a large, comfortable bed in her future.



The soft knock on her door gave rise to an image of lying beside a large, comfortable pirate, and she trembled in anticipation. It had only been a few nights since she had last slept in his arms, but already she missed his presence.



Her hand on the doorknob, Elizabeth hesitated. She was utterly defenseless; it would not do to inadvertently let someone who meant her harm into the room. “Who’s there?”



“Cariño. Open the door.”



Only one person called her that.



He slipped inside, and she began fastening locks, a more difficult process than it would have been, had Barbossa not pressed himself against her back, kissing her neck where it met her shoulder.



She slid the last lock into place and let a sigh of pleasure escape her lips. “Hector…I just put William down…please, we have things to talk about.” Barbossa didn’t cease his ministrations and Elizabeth twisted in his arms.



His body was hard and hot against hers, their thin robes doing little to separate them. His scent invaded her mind and nearly destroyed her resolve, but she pushed him back. “Business before pleasure, Captain. We have much to discuss.”



“Why not pleasure before business this time?”



Elizabeth rolled her eyes and swatted his chest. “You know you’ll only fall asleep before we have a chance to discuss anything. Now sit,” she pointed to the chair and small sofa in the sitting area. “And I promise it will be worth the wait.”



“Better be. You’ve not disappointed me yet.” Elizabeth glowed a bit at his praise and curled up in the chair. Barbossa settled in the sofa and set out a bottle and two goblets.



“Where did you find wine?”



Barbossa flashed a wolfish grin. “Miss Ming was quite accommodating.”



He poured the wine and took a long sip. “Now what would ye be discussing.”



“Why won’t you sail with us?”



“Ah.” Barbossa put down his goblet and leaned back against the cushions. “Tai Huang. Do ye trust him?”



Elizabeth sipped her wine. “I don’t know. I have no reason not to.”



“Nor any reason to do so. He once said he worked for the highest bidder. We have a ship.”



Elizabeth picked up his line of reasoning. “But Mistress Ching has a fleet. Do you suppose he’s working for her then?”



“Could be.”



“To what end?”



“Take the South China Sea.”



Elizabeth shook her head. “I don’t understand. He’s already had command of the Sea for years, even if not in name. Why would he want it under her command?”



“Because she can make him a Lord.”



“Of the Pacific? It doesn’t make sense that she would relinquish her title.”



“She won’t be. She’ll make him Lord of the South China Sea, workin’ fer her.”



“But that’s impossible. I have the title, and I won’t give it up. They’d have to kill…” She trailed off, not wanting to finish the thought. The idea was there, though, in Barbossa’s eyes. “Well, we’ll have to tread carefully, then won’t we.”



“What’s this we? I ne’er said I’d be joining ye.”



“The royal we, then. Meaning I. King.”



Barbossa laughed and stretched a leg out on the empty space beside him on the sofa. It was a position she had seen him take up before, but ordinarily he was a bit more clothed.



“Er, Captain. You’re not wearing breeches, and, well…”



Barbossa simply refused to be embarrassed. “Distractin’ ye, am I?”



He could read her thoughts, surely. “Don’t flatter yourself.”



He rolled his eyes, but adjusted his robe to a reasonable semblance of decency. “Ye’d be wise to remember yer not wearing breeches either, Captain Swann.”



She looked down nervously. She had tucked her legs under herself, but her already short robe had ridden up a bit, revealing a bit more of her thighs than she had intended. She tugged the fabric, but there wasn’t much to work with. Finally she gave up, and settled for emptying her wine glass and holding out for Barbossa to refill. He did.



“When are they going to return our clothes?”



“Need our weapons more. I’ll fight naked, but I won’t get far without a sword or pistol.”



Elizabeth tried very hard to suppress the image that insisted on forming in her mind. It gave the idea of fighting at his back a whole new set of meanings that she really needed to stop contemplating.



“Barbossa. I know you said you’d give your answer in the morning, but I suspect you’ve already made your decision. Can we count on the Pearl?”



“Yer askin’ the wrong question.”



Elizabeth cocked her head at him. What was his game this time? He didn’t trust Tai Huang, but they appeared to be allies for the time being. Barbossa had long been her ally; why was he wavering now?



She studied his eyes, looking for the meaning behind his words. No, he wouldn’t sail with Tai Huang. But he did sail with her.



“Can I count on the Pearl?”



An infectious grin spread over Barbossa’s face. “Aye. The Pearl, and her Captain, are as ever at yer disposal. Majesty.”



Elizabeth caught his smile. “I am glad to hear it. You had me worried for a time there. I was afraid this would be goodbye.”



Barbossa shook his head. “Wouldn’t leave ye here alone.”



“Good. I’m not sure I’m prepared to say goodbye.”



“Nor I. But I’ll not be leavin’ this room tonight, Elizabeth, whether ye invite me into yer bed or no. As I said, I don’t trust ‘im.”



So he would protect her? Of course he would, he always had, from the first moment they met. She was more than capable now of defending herself (though it would help to have her weapons back), but it made a bubble of warmth grow and spread within her to know she could count on his protection.



“Thank you. Though I imagine that sofa would be far too uncomfortable for you to get any sleep on it.”



“Slept on worse.”



“I’m sure.” Elizabeth rose from her chair and slid into the seat beside him. His arm came around her and she leaned into his chest. “But it seems unnecessary, when there is a more attractive alternative.”



His kiss came as water to a parched mouth. Their robes slid open easily as she crawled into his lap. His hands slid along her oil-slicked skin, pulling her against him. “Are we done with business?”



“For now. Come. Consider yourself invited into my bed.”



“As you command, Majesty.”



Since only a thin screen separated them from William, they were forced to keep their voices and actions quiet. Elizabeth had an easier time remembering to do so. She quieted her lover by pulling his mouth onto her own whenever he began to cry out, whispering shushing noises in his ear, burying her own cries in his neck as she murmured his name like a prayer.



The experience had been quite different from their earlier encounters, with quiet intimacy replacing desperate passion. It was no less satisfying.



When Elizabeth could breathe again, she shifted in the crook of his arm and placed a tentative kiss on his jaw line. He turned and let his lips meet hers, lazily running a hand down the side of her body. She couldn’t explain why she needed to feel his kiss again, just after, but she was glad for it.



“Do you suppose,” Elizabeth sighed in pleasure, “that we’re guests here, or prisoners?”



“If we be guests, they’ll be givin’ us back our clothes. If we be prisoners…I’ve been in worse prisons.”



“As have I.” Prisons that did not include silk sheets and Barbossa’s hand roving her body. Hector’s hand. He was Barbossa or Captain on deck, but in more private moments, he was Hector. She was still growing accustomed to the change. “Do we sleep tonight? Perhaps we should stay awake, just in case.”



“Unlikely. They’d have killed us already if that be the case.”



“Then I expect Tai Huang will let us sail, though we’ve a week at least before we do.”



“And yer crew’ll mutiny.”



“It’s possible.”



“S’what I’d do.”



“So I’ve been told.”



“Have ye a plan?”



“For the mutiny? Not yet, but I have a week to think of one.” His fingers were tracing unseen patterns over her stomach and she rolled over to follow his lead, tracing the tattoos and scars across his body, the newest a still-tender line along his side.



“Yeh always gotta do that?”



“Do what?”



“Draw attention to me many imperfections.”



“Hardly. They’re marks of honor, aren’t they? All times you might have died, and didn’t. And every one has a story.”



“Ye’ve not got any. Unmarked, ye are, lovely Elizabeth.”



Elizabeth smirked. “That’s not true at all. Have you forgotten?” She removed his roving hand from her hip and guided his fingers over the thin line on her left palm. “Shall I tell you the story of this scar, Hector?”



His thumb caressed her palm for a moment, then he took her fingers and ran them across an identical scar on his own left palm. Elizabeth drew in a breath. She had always thought of that scar as linking her to Jack and Will, who bore the same mark from their first adventure together. It had never occurred to her that Barbossa – Hector – would have one as well, but of course, he too had paid the blood sacrifice.



“Aye, tell me the tale.”



Curled up in the arms of the very first pirate she had ever seen, in the far distance from the deck of the Princess, she told him the story of her only scar.