Battling Destiny

I have to talk about blood and scabs in this chapter so if you’re squeamish you might skip some sections…I tried not to get icky though.


Chapter 11

James ordered his men to row to the Valiant as fast as they could. Dark storm clouds had rolled in while they’d been on The Black Pearl. He was unable see Destiny clearly, but she wasn’t responding to him and that caused his gut to clench in fear.

She had finally stopped trembling so violently and was now lying limply in his lap with ragged, shallow breathing and an occasional delirious cry. Her skin felt cold and clammy to his touch and he covered with his navy coat as he reassured her in hushed tones.

James was very aware that his men were watching him carefully or with knowing glances but found he didn’t care and was unable to filter what he was saying. Several times when he had been ill he had heard her voice penetrating through the fog, soothing him and giving him comfort; he hoped he was doing the same.

“Captain Netherland, Miss Overland needs a doctor as soon as possible. Have Captain Topper set an immediate course to Port Hespia.” James said quietly, just in case she could hear him.

“Aye, admiral. We should be able to get there before sunset.” Netherland replied.

The moment they were close enough to the ship he boarded and loaded her back up gently in his arms, a boneless heap dangling helplessly.

He moved through the corridors as quickly as he could without jostling her with Rover on his heels until he reached her quarters. James opened the door with his boot and deposited her on the bed.

“Light some candles please.” He asked Rover.

Within the minute the room was bathed in soft light, allowing James to really asses her. His heart squeezed as he looked her over. Destiny’s normally beautiful porcelain skin was sallow and pasty. She looked thinner, small and frail instead of vibrant and healthy.

Her eyes fluttered a few times as she fought to regain consciousness and he found their normal violet color replaced with a dull blue.

But the worst thing about her appearance was her wound. Her burgundy dress had been torn from her shoulder revealing a crusted, infected gash. The dried blood was a ghastly brown color and had a thick scab on it. He unconsciously trailed a finger down her cheek and longed to hear her speak as emotion swirled through him.

His captain had the decency to look away and James felt his respect for the man rise. He had been an asset during the whole ordeal and he was grateful.

“Rover, look at her shoulder. This is a severe laceration, looks pretty deep. Would you please have some hot water, witch hazel, salve and some gauze bandages fetched? Also, some hot soup and a pitcher of water?” James asked.

“At once.” He replied and took off at a run.

James resumed his soft whispers of reassurance as he continued to sit and watch her fight to come back to him. Her eyes continued to flitter and she would give a sporadic cry until finally her eyes stayed open and focused on him, recognition registering.

Relief flooded him as she reached to touch his hand with hers. “James?” She asked hopefully.

He smiled and brought their joined hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to her finger tips. “You’re safe now.

Destiny returned a weak smile and let her eyes drift shut again. She looked exhausted and he hated to wake her but when Rover returned with a tray carrying all the provisions he had to rouse her.

“I’ll be outside if you need me, admiral.” He offered and excused himself.

James was going to have to slice that noxious scab off so he could rub a disinfectant on it. It was clear neither Sparrow nor any of his crew had given any attention to the wound. He encouraged her to open her eyes and listen to him, he let her know what he was going to have to do and that it would cause her further suffering. She bravely nodded and bit her lip, turning to give him better access.

She started bleeding promptly when his dagger pierced her flesh but he kept her calm by soothing her in a low calming voice. He doused the fresh wound with witch hazel and watched as it bubbled up and penetrated deep into her skin. She inhaled sharply as it stung, feeling like needles pricking her.

The need to protect her had been present since they’d first met but now that need was mingling with something else; something he dared not name.

“I know it hurts, love. We have to get the nasty infection out.” He consoled instead of facing the emotions slicing through him. He reached for the salve, rubbing a generous amount of the thick liniment on her shoulder.

She gave an alleviated sigh that the stinging had stopped, the salve felt warm as it calmed the pain.

“I asked so many times for salve.” Destiny said.

“I’m sorry, so sorry that this happened to you.” James said achingly as he moved to bandage her up.

Destiny heard his regretful and self loathing tone and reached to cup his cheek, guiding his eyes to meet her gaze. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“It was my fault. If I had not had been so stubborn…”

“We’re both pretty stubborn.” She answered with a smile and sat up and admired his doctoring skills. “Thank you. That feels much better already.”

“You must be famished. Have some soup.” He said, deciding to leave the more intense conversation for later, after she was feeling better.

“Very. They were only giving me one meal a day.” She replied as she accepted the bowl.

Anger at Sparrow reared up again and James couldn’t help but wish had done something more permanent with his adversary.

“James?” Destiny asked in a small voice, feigning extreme interest in the contents of her vegetable beef soup.

“Yes?” He inquired, turning from the tray to face her.

“Thank you.” She said shyly. “For coming for me.”

“It wasn’t an option.” He answered.

“Because I was part of your assignment and duty?” She questioned.

“Not a bit. I came because I couldn’t bare the thought of anything happening to you; of you not being here with me.” James admitted.

Destiny stayed silent but was engulfed in a warm glow as he excused himself to tend to some ship business and give her some privacy, inordinately pleased that she had finally cracked his shell.