Parlait

What Barbossa wouldn’t have given for a straight razor; he hadn’t shaved much over the years, but now he wished to neaten up his beard and mustache some, just make it a bit tighter and finished looking, but scraping at lathered whiskers with his knife wasn’t resulting in quite the polished look he’d set out to accomplish. And now a shadow loomed into the bit of light he had where he stood peering into a bit of broken mirror next to his hammock in the galley, new shirt and lesser-worn coat laying over what had become his bed.

“Captain, if I may, a word about Elizabeth?” Blood removed his hat and stood watching with a mix of astonishment and perplexity that the old pirate was putting an effort into preparing himself for the “outing” he and Elizabeth were to share. He’d always felt himself a bit more meager when he stood beside or sat across from Captain Barbossa, and now with the man stripped down to breeches, his power on display as he fearlessly shaved with a knife, Blood felt more so. How could anyone shave with a knife? And how had he managed to trim his beard so even with one?

“Be she well?” Barbossa immediately asked, but didn’t look towards Blood, he was too busy stretching his neck up and a bit to the right as he carefully drew the blade against the vagrant whiskers that would not tidily join up with the rest of his beard.

“Yes, she is, there’s no cause for worry.” Assured Blood, and foolishly felt himself trying to push his own shoulders out until he was more stout looking. “I’m afraid that I’ve come to ask a terribly personal question.”

“Oh?” Barbossa glanced towards Blood, half smirking. “If’n yer wonderin’ as to me intentions this evenin’ with yer patient, doctor, I give y’me word as Captain that they be nothin’ but honorable.” He took the knife away from the spot he’d been working on, ran his finger over it and felt it smooth, then flicked the blade in the tin cup of water and examined himself in the broken mirror he’d hung from a beam. “Two more weeks, isn’t that what y’told me?”

“Yes, quite, I’m glad that you remembered, sir.” Replied Blood, but shifted nervously still, that wasn’t what he’d come to say. “But you need to be aware also that,…that…well, it’s just that Elizabeth can be quite…audacious…”

“Audacious?” Repeated Barbossa, not following. “What is it yer tryin’ to say, lad? Speak plainly.”

Blood only laughed doubtfully. “You’d rather not appreciate it if I did, sir.”

There were a few more whiskers Barbossa meant to shave from his cheek, but whatever Blood pondered made him stop and turn towards the doctor. “Are y’sayin’ yer more concerned ‘bout Elizabeth bein’ a lady than y’are me at bein’ a gentleman?” In all honesty, Barbossa was concerned about that himself. But in an attempt to soothe Blood’s worries, Barbossa flexed the thick muscles of his arms, and smiled. “I think I’ll be able to fend off her advances.”

“Of course,” Blood sighed, but more having his doubts; despite the difference in age, and the conduct that Captain Barbossa had always been of when around Elizabeth, there was something amorous and passionate seething below the surface whenever the two of them were together. “But perchance if there is to be a weak moment, you must understand that Elizabeth is not yet strong enough to experience…um, that is she mustn’t undergo any…phenomenon.”

Barbossa eyed Blood suspiciously. “Phenomenon?”

“Yes, you know, any sort of…matriculation, either by hand, or…mouth, that may cause any tensing and releasing of muscles—“ His own words embarrassed him, but how else was he to put it, medically? And then Captain Barbossa out and said it.

“Don’t fuck her, or make her otherwise cum?”

Blood grimaced a bit, but he wasn’t sure why. “Once again, Captain, you best me with words.” He took a deep breath, glad to have that said and over with. “But yes, that would be the advice I would give you.”

“Pity that,” sighed Barbossa. He should have thought better before speaking so vernacularly of Elizabeth, but then, Blood, in all his sheepishness, was making no sense at all, and Barbossa had wanted to be sure he understood…just incase, there was a weak moment. He picked up the knife again and set about those whiskers on his cheek, but looked over at Blood once more with smugness. “What makes y’think that for Elizabeth such be a ‘phenomenon?’”

* * * * * *

The doctor was finally gone! Elizabeth was at her leisure to stand, and walk and root through the wardrobe in search of a dress she hadn’t yet worn. When Blood had left to seek a conference with the Captain, he’d told her not to move from the bed, that either he, or the Captain would be up to get her, and that she was to be carried out onto deck, and was to sit upon her rocker during the duration of this ‘outing.’ She’d of course agreed to such terms, but the moment Blood left her alone, she did of her own accord, now quickly pulling a deep blue gown with copper trim over her head and struggling to get the buttons closed at her back. The dress had been taken long ago, during the first raid upon the merchant ship carrying silks, a raid Barbossa had conducted in order to procure clothing for her. Most of her time had been spent in breeches and flowing shirts with a vest over them, but tonight, Elizabeth wanted something special!

Special…how was it she used to do her hair back in Port Royal? Well, in truth, she’d never done her own hair in Port Royal, someone else always had, but she remembered what it had always looked like, the sides swept up onto her head with curls cascading down. Curls…she hadn’t many of those anymore, just soft waves, and she’d only two ivory combs to sweep her hair up with, but they held nicely, even if she were only a shadow of her former self. Was that good enough? Would it be enough to hopefully move the Captain to staying beside her tonight, and taking her his strong arms as she slept? She hoped! She held up the silver mirror also taken on the raid with the dress she wore, pinching her cheeks and trying to encourage some roses into her cheeks, when she heard the door handle turn. She froze, was it Blood, or the Captain?

Forgetting herself, and her recovery, she picked up the skirt of her dress and ran for the door, knowing full well that if Blood were on the other side, he’d give her quite a lecture for not following his orders, but the thought that the Captain may be so near was too tempting. She reached for the handle just as the door swung open. She barely recognized the man who stepped into the cabin.

“Me understandin’ a things were that y’weren’t supposed to be fussin’ about.” He’d noticed first with a tight feeling in his gut that she was standing up, and walking around, and possibly causing herself more injury. But next he noticed her form, the dress fitted snugly around her body, the dip of the neckline, just above her cleavage, the deliciousness of her alabaster skin, and the way her hair regally crowned her head, tresses of it falling back around her shoulders and neck like a veil. He was taken a bit aback, quickly forgot that she was not to have been so active. It had been quite awhile since he’d seen her in a gown; he immediately thought of their first meeting, the young woman, in that maroon dress, that he’d meant to marry. The trouble she’d gone to had touched him, all this for just a paltry walk on the deck, with a humble pirate like him? “But y’do look…beautiful, Miss.”

Elizabeth smiled, her very heart struck by his words and a tear quickly appearing at the corner of her eye. “That’s the first time you’ve ever said so.”

Again, Barbossa was taken aback. “Can’t be!” He stated with a furrowed brow, but it was difficult to separate all the times he’d thought it from times that he thought he was sure to have said it. He had said it before, hadn’t he? “How could I not have told ye? Look at ye!”

Elizabeth smiled broader, wiping the tear away. “Well, I suppose I always knew you’d thought so.” She said, and reached her hands out to his, the Captain taking them and pressing a kiss to each one. He looked so very different, beard trimmed, all his hair combed and pulled back tightly into an even braid down his back instead of hanging loose at the sides of his face as she’d grown accustomed to. He looked like a respectable gentleman, and in an instant, Elizabeth knew what he’d looked like when he’d been a merchant captain all those years ago. She sighed happily and looked up at him as if seeing him for the first time, eyes blazing blue, red beard shaped distinguishingly around his rugged face, shoulders pushed out as he stood nearly at attention for her. Such a man! “Come on,” she said as his thumb stroked her palm. “Let us go before Blood returns and informs me that your sentiment will damage me!” She set her foot forward, only to have the Captain stop her.

“Elizabeth,” Barbossa sighed, putting his arm around her shoulders and bending slightly at the knees. “Though y’do so in beauty, yer not to be walkin’.” He tilted her back just enough to get his other arm under her and swept her from the deck, into his arms, then strode towards the door with Elizabeth laughing delightedly in his embrace, her arms hugging his neck.

When they reached the quarterdeck and the Captain set her down again, it seemed too soon. He stood behind her at the rail, and before he could move to the side of her, Elizabeth immediately leaned back against him with all her weight. She felt him try to pull away at first; still trying to be a proper gentleman with a proper lady, but his resistance was short lived. With a sigh of some need being met, he drew himself up closer to her, sealing his chest to her back, his arms wrapping around her tightly in the front, and bending his head down to nuzzle his cheek on the top of her head. Elizabeth smiled and sighed herself, her hands over his at her waist, and her head laying back against his shoulder, neck exposed; how wonderful it would have been to feel the bristle of his beard and mustache there, followed by his lips.

“I’ve missed this.” She said, snuggling closer to him and smiling up at the sliver of moon. The night was dark and the stars bright, so many of them that seemed splattered across the sky, and yet, they all meant something, and anyone who could interpret what, could be taken anywhere.

“Aye,” Barbossa took her more into his arms as she leaned more into him, could feel every breath she drew now and imagined he was part of it, slipping deep within her body and being held there until she cast him out again, only to again encompass him. His own breathing began to quicken at the thought and it sobered him, made him realize he must be the one to stay in control, of both of them. “Or did y’mean the night sky, and not meself?” He smiled.

Elizabeth laughed. “I’ve missed us, this way,” she said, and stroked her hands over his where they held her. She wanted to turn and kiss him, but knew it would only be a tease, for both her and him. She did respect Blood’s word that she wasn’t strong enough yet to know her lover, though every bit of her wished to test the theory. But no, they couldn’t have each other; the night, the stars, the man, the curse, it was as if it were real again. Elizabeth’s eyes searched the sky looking for the queen he’d compared her to years ago. “Where is she?”

Barbossa moved his hand to point out the constellation, but then stayed it. “Y’tell me, I showed y’last time, and I be a very good instructor.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes with a smile. “Now who’s haughty and conceited?”

Barbossa chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “The ‘W’, on its side,” he indicated Cassiopeia with his finger, noting warmly how this time, it wasn’t transformed into a skeletal tip of bone. “That be the foot of her throne, that the seat, and that the back.”

Elizabeth smiled, seeing the constellation again was like meeting an old friend, but under much better circumstances. “She’s tilted forward,” she observed with some amusement and wonder. Cassiopeia hadn’t been so the first time the Captain had pointed her out. “She looks like she’s falling out of her throne!” She laughed, and leaned even more into the arms that held her.

At that observation Barbossa grinned widely, pulling Elizabeth as tightly against him as he had in quite awhile. “Different time of year,” he said, but cast a glance down at her and added, “but, perhaps she is.”

She looked up at him with a furrowed brow, didn’t get his meaning, but Barbossa only raised his eyebrows at her as though she should. The lofty and vain queen was falling from her throne…the lofty and vain queen he’d said she was once. “Oh!” Elizabeth laughed, for she had claimed to despise the Captain once, and now, here she was, held in his arms and wishing to be closer than she was. Something else about that night rose up in her mind, making her smile bigger, but she took the opportunity to turn a bit in his arms and rise up on her toes, angling her head up, lips slightly parted.

“Elizabeth, what is it y’be doin’?” He whispered, though he knew, had felt her move and had even let her, wanted so much to kiss her, but was doing his best to cool any fire before it may start.

“I’m sorry.” It was disappointing, but she marveled at his control and knew it was only because he wished not to enter into a situation that may hurt her. She must respect that; Elizabeth retreated, laid her head to his chest and sank back down onto her feet. But, why not ask him of the night he’d showed her the stars? “Captain, did you mean what you said to me that night on The Pearl? Would you have married me?”

The question was a bit of a shock, but Barbossa didn’t shrink from it. “Would have been a hell of a weddin’!” He laughed. “Y’called me sea scum.”

She laughed with him and then they hugged each other a bit tighter, both of them sighing, Barbossa bowing his head to again plant a kiss to her forehead, Elizabeth closing her eyes and drinking in the touch, hoping he’d never stop touching her. “Will you ever ask me to marry you again?”

This question was more a shock than the last. Of course he’d thought of it before, many times, even assumed the role of her husband where Blood’s reports were concerned but he felt that he didn’t want to tell her yes or no. “Didn’t ask y’before, girl.”

Elizabeth thought it over and nodded, for it had been more a statement of what was to occur than an actual proposal. “But will you?”

Barbossa sighed and stood apart from her. She’d promised in her letter to stop asking if he loved her; had she only moved onto this now? “I won’t tell y’that.”

“Why?” The silliest things frustrated him. “I’m not asking you to ask, I’m only curious.”

“And I’m not.” And yet, he was. “Wait and find out.” There, perhaps that would appease her; it wasn’t a “no.”

“For how long?”

Damn! But what had he truly expected her to say next? “Elizabeth, ask me whate’er y’like, ask me ‘bout Tial Dalma even, but leave the current subject be. It does nothin’ but create questions and doubts where there should be none.”

Elizabeth sighed heavily, but she knew he was right. It was good to finally be with him, why turn it into a demand for more? “Again, Captain, I am sorry. I’ve just been so long without you, and I can’t give you that which I desire most to give you. It’s got me feeling so very insecure lately, and I guess I just wish to know that you’ll always be there, no matter what curse may be upon us.”

“C’mere, girl,” Barbossa sighed again, and drew her into his arms once more, understanding now, and thinking that maybe he should at least offer to her that he’d thought about marrying her…but what good would it have really done. It wasn’t that he was against it, more that if he ever did ask her, he wanted it to be a surprise, not an expectation, and certainly not a demand. But with Elizabeth held in his arms, clinging to him the way she was, he only wanted her to know he’d be there, forever. “I’ve told y’time and time again, yer mine, y’always will be. That means I’ll be with y’a long time to come.” He hugged her more, pressed her head over his heart. “I’ll not be lettin’ y’go!”

“A long time?” Elizabeth repeated; her arms tight around him. “Do you promise it will be for a long time?” And then she felt horrible for asking, hadn’t meant to say it that way, but the fact was that for all that their age difference didn’t matter to her, she was forced to acknowledge that the Captain was some thirty years here senior. She looked up with an apologetic expression, ready to withdraw the question, but to her surprise, Barbossa smiled, even laughed a bit.

“Aye, girl, I do believe I can promise y’that.” He said, and laughed again when she looked at him confused. At the risk of arousing her jealous nature, he decided to tell her, if for no other reason, then to calm her fears. “I woke from me death with a goddess at me lips, and filled to capacity with the might, fitness, facilities and hungers I haven’t recalled since before I were likely as old as y’are.”

Elizabeth looked at him skeptically at first, was he truly saying that in terms of vitality, Calypso had made him younger than herself? But then certain things began to click in her mind; his stamina in battle, and as a lover, the physical power he that seemed unending at times, he was the strongest man she’d ever known. And beyond that, never once had she felt out of place beside him, and perhaps this was why. “Truly?”

“Wouldn’t lie only to make y’feel better, girl.” He laughed. “Were gifted with renewed youth by Tia Dalma, to better ensure we’d make the journey to World’s End.”

Now Elizabeth smiled, felt more at ease, she would have her Captain for many years to come! Still one unpleasant image lingered in her mind, despite her happiness. “You woke with her lips on yours? And then what happened?”

Barbossa rolled his eyes; he knew he should have left that part out. Oh, the jealousy of women…young man or not, he couldn’t bear it; best to change the subject. “Elizabeth,” he said, and cleared his throat a bit, turning her more around to face him. “We’ve corresponded, we’ve had our outin’…we’ve even discussed marriage,” he added with a regretful sigh. “I think it’s high time we’ve also had a dance.”

“A dance?” The words practically exploded from her mouth they’d made her smile so intensely. What a surprise! Captain Hector Barbossa, dance? “You mean like you’ll take my hands and we’ll whirl around, as if there were music playing?”

“Y’know some other way of doin’ it?”

She couldn’t help her giggle. He was serious! But this presented a dilemma she’d never figured on having aboard a pirate vessel. “Well, it’s jut that I’m not sure I quite remember how any longer. It’s been some time since a gentleman has asked me to dance, you see.”

Barbossa smiled and shook his head, taking up her hands in his. “Of course y’remember, girl. I’ve left it further behind than ye, but even I remember.” He moved her right hand to his big shoulder, turning his left hand palm up for hers to rest upon it.

“But,” Elizabeth could feel the most silly grin on her face, but could do nothing about it, despite how apprehensive she was in showing how klutzy a dancer she’d always been, even when she did remember how. She hadn’t much practice, had left society for pirates and ships just as this part of her life should have been beginning. She was so torn, wanting so very much to dance with the Captain, but being so very afraid of looking less than graceful. Blood…oh he’d hit the ceiling if he found out she’d been dancing of all things! The thought of the doctor’s torment made her laugh, and then the perfect solution to her situation occurred to her. “Captain, how am I to dance with you when I am not even supposed to walk?”

“Hmm,” Barbossa pursed his lips, that was a problem, but it didn’t take him long to come up with a solution to it. “Place yer dainty little feet upon me boots.”

“What?”

“C’mon, girl, I went through the trouble a shinin’ ‘em for a reason,” Barbossa smiled. “Stand on me feet, Elizabeth, dance with me.”

There was such a sparkle in his blue eyes; she could see it even in the darkness of the night, for it matched the one in her own eyes. Could this have been any better? And could the Captain be anymore the gentleman? She’d always considered her father to have been the most thoughtful and well mannered man she’d known, but part of her had to admit rather guiltily that Captain Hector Barbossa, a noted and infamous pirate, rivaled Governor Weatherby Swann. He was perfect, the Captain was! Stand on his feet, and dance with him? Yes! Such a man! It was a magnificent outcome! She needn’t move; he’d take her where ever he went, and her secreted lacking in skill and talent would never be known! Not tonight, at least. Did he have any idea what he’d saved her, and what he’d given her? Oh, if only she could have him tonight! Right now! Right here! She’d show him a thrashing better than any whore in Tortuga ever could! But…no, she had to stop thinking so, at least for now. Dance, it went no further. Elizabeth pulled up the skirt of her gown slightly to step forward with her bare feet. “I’m heavy.” She warned with a smile that would not leave her face.

“I’ll take me chances.” He smiled back, and his right hand slid to the small of her back, drawing her closer, and making her step forward. Her hips met his, his body shuddered; perhaps it was best to take a half a step back? She giggled like a little girl as she placed one foot and then the other squarely over his own, cautiously putting all her weight on him as if she expected he’d jump back and recoil from the crushing burden of her lithe little frame. Barbossa just sighed and chuckled a bit, then took a sudden step backwards, forcing her to stand with all her weight upon him, and eliciting a surprised, giggly gasp from Elizabeth as he began their dance. “I’m supposin’ y’won’t mind if’n I lead?”

Elizabeth burst out laughing as he moved for the both of them, forward, a step to the side, then another to other side, and then to the back and then forward again to begin the pattern all over again. He was much better at this than she ever would have guessed, moved with a smoothness that surprised her for having to support her weight on his feet and dance to a tune that didn’t even play. She couldn’t see what they looked like together, but wished she could, knowing the picture of them was likely ridiculous, but not quite as ridiculous as her inability to dance. “If you only knew how many times I’ve stepped on my partner’s feet when dancing,” she laughed as the Captain slowly spun them both around. “And now you’ve gone and encouraged me to do so!”

“Elizabeth,” Barbossa sighed happily. “Go on, lay yer head to me chest and give o’er with yer worryin’.”

His feet moved strongly beneath hers as she followed his suggestion, not able to help the happy laugh that escaped her as she pressed her ear over his pounding heart. He thought of everything, gave her this wonderful opportunity of share this part of courtship, and this intimacy, with him without endangerment or embarrassment to herself. And he moved quite well! “Where did you learn to dance, Captain?”

“Became a necessity once I made first lieutenant in Portugal’s Navy. There I be a young officer, expected to attend balls and parties, learned mostly by watchin’.” He’d never enjoyed those balls or parties as much as he enjoyed this moment with Elizabeth, standing on his feet and moving only because he moved, like she were some sort of bizarre life size puppet. The idea caused him to laugh, but he’d not have traded this for a dance with his admiral’s beautiful daughter, as was usually sought by himself and his fellow young officers all those years ago.

“Portugal,” Elizabeth repeated, so very dazzled. “And you learned to speak the language, too?”

“Had to,” replied Barbossa, moving forward again with enough spin to make the skirt of her dress twirl. “Not a brilliant enough artist to communicate by drawin’ pictures.”

Elizabeth laughed again. “Say something in Portuguese!”

“Such as?” He wondered if her choice might be “I love you” or “Will you marry me?”

“Just…something.” She smiled.

Barbossa smirked. “Algo.”

She’d hoped for more words than just that one, but she was still entranced. “And what does that mean?”

“’Something.’”

“Captain!” The smile left her face for a brief moment, filled with a look of exasperation instead, but it wasn’t long before she couldn’t help laughing; and the Captain with her. She had after all told him to say that word.

“Not what I’d expected y’to want to hear me say, lass.” Sighed Barbossa through his smile.

“And what would you have instead chosen for me to hear on a night such as this one?” Elizabeth smiled back with a sly look.

Ah, so this be the trap? But he wasn’t about to fall for it, but why not catch her by surprise? “So tell me Miss, if’n I were to ask fer yer hand some day, what would yer answer be?”

The very thought stirred a deeper bliss within her, but why let him know that so easily? “I don’t know for certain, Captain.” She sighed.

“Oh?” What game was she trying to get away with now?

Elizabeth smirked at him for a change. “Well, I’m quite unsure I want to be involved with a younger man.”

Her response was sassy enough to halt Barbossa where they stood together, for he’d never expected she’d turn this discussion quite so cleverly around on him for not saying whether he’d plans to propose. He’d never been prouder of her. Still he shook his head at her, but couldn’t hide the smile. “Yer pushin’it, y’are!”

Elizabeth only laughed. “Am I?” The Captain again began to sway for the two of them and she grasped his shoulder a bit more, it was amazing to be this close to him again, he held her so wonderfully. “So tell me, if one day you do ask for my hand, and I acquiesce, will I still rate only as your captive?”

“Yes,” Barbossa said seriously, “y’will!”

“Is there some thrill I don’t understand that you get from it?” His answer had surprised her.

“Thrill?” He asked, wondering what she meant by thrill. “Y’bein’ left alive if ever this vessel suffers capture by any authorities I guess be that thrill, then.”

“What do you mean?” The conversation had suddenly taken a serious turn, but Elizabeth didn’t mind, had asked in her last letter why she’d still been officially his captive, but the Captain had neglected to tell her.

“Elizabeth,” Barbossa sighed, not wanting to dredge this up when he was striving to set a lighter mood in both his letters and this outing. Again he stopped their dance. If she wished to know so badly, he’d tell her. “If’n the King’s Navy scuttles this ship, and arrests the lot of us, we all be destined for the noose. But if’n yer known as me captive, y’ll be seen as an innocent, and be set free.”

Elizabeth’s eyes went a bit wide and she gasped, he did it to protect her? To save her from any encroaching harm, in a way he wasn’t able to do for his family? Her heart beat twice as fast as it did before, and all at once she wanted to cry for the love of this man! She suddenly felt that she wasn’t close enough to him, and before he could move to stop her, she rose up where she stood on his feet, locked her arms around his neck, and kissed him hard, pressing her body into his strong form, feeling his arms come around her without hesitation as his mouth moved against hers, taking all she offered and then seeking more with the tip of his tongue, until what she’d given him became all his, and he tilted her back in his arms to finally take all that he wanted, down to leaving her breathless.

Elizabeth felt herself upright again, gasping through smiling lips, the kiss still coursing through her, as was he. “Know here and now, Captain,” she began. “That I would consider it an honor to die by the side of the man that I love!”

Whether it was her words, or the euphoria brought on by kissing her again for the first time in so long, Barbossa wasn’t certain, but he wanted more of her, and kissed her again, relishing the taste of her mouth, the pressure of her lips against his, the feather lightness of her stroking tongue, and the rest of his body began to awaken to it as well. No, bed this down, before it went too far. “Comfortin’ to know that y’ll be hangin’ there next to me, instead of makin’ use a yer freedom to perchance secure mine, girl.” He said, shaking off the growing desire for a chaster smirk instead.

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose in laughter again. “Can you ever be satisfied, Captain?”

Barbossa only gave a somewhat startled grunt, for after having kissed her, and while holding her body this close to his own wanton form the question was far from fair. But Elizabeth distracted him, thankfully, her hands rising to his face and her fingers lacing through his hair, pulling the neatly braided sides of it loose until it all hung around his face like it always had before. What was she doing? Her fingers felt so good running through his hair though, made him want to be touched more and more; he should probably stop her. “I’ll have y’know I spent a good deal a time plattin’ that all together for ye!”

Elizabeth smiled, combing her fingers through the still semi damp, clean auburn locks she’d freed. “I don’t doubt you did, but I like it this way.” She twisted her finger in a stand of it and drew it down to his shoulder. “The other way was tidy and trim, but you looked like you should have a snuff box in the pocket of your coat!” She smirked.

“Y’silly, sharp witted thing!” Barbossa declared, grabbing her hands out of his hair, but having to laugh himself. “Y’callin’ me a dandy, girl?”

She smiled, feeling him begin to walk forward, as if trying to corner her in this amusing argument, but she still stood upon his feet. “Yes, Captain. I believe I am!”

Barbossa rolled his eyes at her and tsk-ed at her, having to stop walking now as Elizabeth was soundly up against the outer cabin wall, trapping her there as if she might run away if he didn’t. His body surpassed its general ache for her and began to pound with its need to have her again. He knew he should, be but he wouldn’t be letting her go now, would keep her pinned here, against the wall, until he’d tasted every last inch of her skin. “What be I to do with such an abusive beauty as yerself?”

The intensity in his blue eyes shook her, made her breathing quicken and familiar stirrings between her legs begin to surge, but felt unstable and hollow, reminding her how unready she was, though she desired him immensely. But she wanted something of him, wanted even more to give him something of her. “You could kiss me ag—”
The words hadn’t the chance to leave her mouth before he did, lips over hers, tip of his tongue stabbing at the tip of hers, his hands on her waist, pulling her closer as Elizabeth’s arms locked around his neck. But he wasn’t satisfied with only her mouth, leaving her lips to kiss her chin and down over her throat, sucking hard at her skin and stroking it with his tongue, nipping lightly with his teeth and continuing down her neck to her collar bone, pushing her dress over her arm a bit to do the same to her shoulder. Elizabeth moaned and leaned into him as much as she could, it was so good to feel his beard against her skin like this again, and the tingle of being his as hungry kisses devoured her. She tilted her head into his neck and did the same to him, kissing the now smoothly shaved skin where she’d grown accustomed to the bristle of his scraggily beard, but now her lips could lightly graze the area, making the Captain moan himself, and move so close to her that his knee slid between her legs as she stepped down off his feet. She wasn’t ready, but it felt so incredibly good.

Elizabeth raised her head, the Captain following her in doing so to kiss her mouth again, sucking her lower lip between his before her tongue met his and invited it deeper as her hand slipped inside his coat to rub his chest through his shirt, over his nipple. He gave a growl and again moved to her neck, Elizabeth’s head falling back against the wall to give him better access. “Don’t stop,” she gasped to him, one hand still roaming over his chest and the other at the back of his head, pressing him to her.

If only she hadn’t spoken! But it was good that she had, for he’d needed to be distracted, this had gone far beyond what it should have, particularly out here, on deck, though they were out of the sightline of the man on watch. Barbossa raised his head, collecting himself, trying to tame the crazed young beast inside him, but when he looked up, Elizabeth’s eyes poured out her need into his, and before he could think, he’d kissed her again, tongue twisting with hers furiously, his hand dropping from her waist to her knee and hiking it to his hip. Elizabeth flexed her leg around him and held herself to him and him to her, her fingernails scraped his chest and Barbossa felt his cock flinch against her belly, so nearly at its full hardness. He knew Elizabeth felt it, for she moved against it with an impassioned sigh, and kissed him again when he’d finally found the strength to begin pulling away from her.

“Elizabeth,” he said, just barely louder than a whisper as she struggled to cling to him and he tried gently to peel her from his form. “Have to stop, Elizabeth, can’t trust the way I be kissin’ ye.”

There was a distance she abhorred between them now, she leaning against the cabin wall, a mixed feeling of being happily afloat and disappointment as the Captain stepped back. She reached out and caught the collar of his coat. “I trust you!”

Barbossa laughed as he caught his breath. “Well y’shouldn’t, girl!” He put his hands over hers and pulled them free of his collar, but couldn’t resist pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “I think this be where a gentleman would say goodnight to a lady.”

Goodnight? “No!” Elizabeth wrapped her hands around his wrists; she was far from ready to end this evening, though she knew well why he suggested it. “Please Captain, don’t go. Not yet.”

“Elizabeth,” he sighed. “If’n I stay, I could hurt ye.”

“No,” she insisted, shaking her head quickly. “I know my limitations, Captain, and I am sorry for them, for the both of us, I am so sorry!” She added; her hands drifted from his wrists to his chest again as she gradually came to lean against him, looking up at him. “But there are other gifts I can give you, and I wish so very much for you to receive them.” Her voice went husky, and she stood up enough against him to press a few soft kisses to his neck. “Please,” she whispered without taking her lips from his skin, her hands roaming his broad chest again, “don’t go.”

He should move away, take her by the shoulders and tell her this was it, that he’d write her again, and tell her farewell, but desire had too strong a hold on him, and Barbossa stood there allowing Elizabeth to kiss and suck at his skin. Her hands skimmed his chest in slow circles, feeling every muscle as if he wore no shirt, he could never say no to this kind of worship. “Can’t return what y’give me, girl.”

“You could touch me,” she began, wrapping her arms around his neck, and hoping still to convince him, though his fair attitude was so endearing.

“No, I can’t.” Barbossa straightened and pulled away; further reminded of how one sided any encounter with her would have to be. “Part a yer recovery be stillness, Elizabeth. Nothin’ to make yer body too tense, can’t be stirrin’ the waves to break fer ye.”

Elizabeth had to think of what he meant, but once she understood, she couldn’t help laugh at his choice of words. “Captain!” She stepped forward again and placed her palms on his chest. “I don’t care that my current state makes me unable for you to provide for me. I just want to do so for you.”

“Wouldn’t be right, yer no whore.” He tried to step away from her again, his body growing ever more demanding as his erection stiffened to its extent, but Elizabeth closed their difference on surprisingly steady feet.

“I never said I was,” She answered, and drew herself up against his body hard, feeling the prominent bulge nestle against her navel. She traced his nipple through his shirt, watched his eyes close as he exhaled slowly. “Come inside, it’s my offer, and your choice.” Slowly, she turned away from him and took one step, looking back over her shoulder one more time. “I’ve already made mine.”

This began to feel less wrong, but Barbossa was unsure as to whether it was because Elizabeth had made a convincing argument, or simply because he wanted her so damn much. Whichever, he knew he wasn’t strong enough to turn and go back down to his hammock in the galley. “Elizabeth,” he took a step forward, then another, until he caught up to her. “Yer not to be walkin’!” He reminded her, and once more, snatched her up into his arms, kissed her, then opened the door and carried her into the cabin.

They were kissing again before Barbossa even set her down upon the deck, reaching behind him to close and lock the cabin door. How their lips never seemed to part, even as Elizabeth pushed off his coat, and then pulled his shirt over his head, he wasn’t sure, he remembered only unlacing her dress in the back and letting it fall down over her shift as their tongues twisted together, his erection pleading to be free. Elizabeth began to undo the buttons of her shift, but Barbossa stopped her.

“No,” he said hoarsely. “Leave it on. Won’t be able to control meself if’n y’don’t.”

She’d hoped to give him the pleasure she knew her naked body would, but she understood. “If you’re still so very worried then, Captain.” Elizabeth nodded and smiled, then backed him against their bed, Barbossa taking her hands as he sat down upon it, moving back to pull her into it across from him and kiss her again, moving from her lips down her neck again and over her now bared shoulder. Elizabeth closed her eyes and leaned into his attentions, reaching forward for the buttons on his breeches, but instead blindly encountering the long swollen form of his cock. The Captain groaned and bit her shoulder as her fingers traced it and he pulled her closer until she straddled his lap, still rubbing his erection through the fabric. It had seemed so long since she’d felt him inside her, hard and demanding, but she knew that her body was not ready, despite her desires. But, she could feel him above her at least. “I’ll lie back,” she whispered, getting bolder in her handling of his hardness, and beginning to open his fly as her fingers stroked him and gripped his girth. “I’ll hold you within the bend of my thigh, or between them, as you move to your fulfillment.”

The idea held no appeal; fucking her, but without the same wet heat around him, without the same wanton snugness clamping around his root when he rode her to points of bliss, without any true possession of her body as he found release? No, his cock nestled begrudgingly in the crease at her groin, or between her legs, so very near where he wished to have her, would likely only lead to him slipping that leash and hurting her. Barbossa raised his head, his body shuddering as her fingers delved within his open fly and brushed the base of his cock, seeking to wrap around it. “Just keep doin’ what y’be doin’.” He kissed her again, harder than before as she pulled his cock free, it stuck up between their bodies and pulsated from tip to root, his balls swelling as her hand cupped them.

It had been so long since she’d touched him that she was again amazed by how firm and hard he was, and yet so soft and velvety in her hand. She’d forgotten also what touching him did to her, what it made her body feel as she felt his, how strong the desire could be to have this man above her, taking her with all that he was. But for her unhealed state, and his wisdom and consideration, Elizabeth would have had her needs met. But, if he wanted her only to stroke him to his point, though it would not bring her that thrill which his strength above her would have, she would. Her nipples hardened at the thought of touching his hardness and fondling it in her hands, running her fingers and palm up and down his shaft again; she wouldn’t refuse that opportunity. She’d always enjoyed handling him, touched him there more so than she ever had Jack, would often times reach over the Captain from behind as he slept to grasp his pendulous organ and close her fist around it, tugging on it gently until he was stiffened and swelled and growling for either her mouth or wet sheath. Wet, she wanted to make this as sensual for him as she could. “A moment, Captain,” she whispered, and broke the seductive contact with his body to turn and pull open the drawer in the headboard, finding the bottle of mineral oil she used to keep her hands and skin soft, opening it and pouring out a puddle of it into her cupped palm, letting the heat of her body warm it.

There was fire in his eyes as the Captain pulled her back to him, his hands on her waist and setting her straddling his lap just as she’d been before, kissing her again and directing her slick hands down towards his taut and pounding organ. He wanted so very much more than what he was about to receive, and her hands on him again only magnified the needs he’d carried unmet for so many days now. Oh how he desired the crescent between her thighs, if not to thrust within it, then to ravish each crease and fold with tongue and lips, or stroke that luxurious cleft with his fingers. The mere thought of it pushed him closer to the edge. “Don’t play too long,” he whispered past her ear as he nibbled at her earlobe, “I be too strong for y’to assume y’can hold me off if I’m teased.”

Elizabeth smiled, looking down as she tipped her fingers towards the head of his cock and let a drizzle of warm oil trickle down over the purplish blush of his hardness, watching with some increased desire as it collected around his retracted foreskin before breaching that levee and rolling down his shaft in several thick beads. She’d never before given too much thought to the make of a man in this way before. Jack had been the first man she’d seen in all starkness, and the sheer size of him had been imposing, distracted her from truly looking beyond his length and girth, though she’d been very drawn to that part of him, ostentatious though it were. But the Captain was different, a well proportioned rod with mushrooming pink tip, smooth pale skin highlighted with excited blue veins, all beneath a nest of red hair. His very shape and the curve of his shaft begged her hand to be wrapped around it. “You’re a beautiful man,” she whispered, tracing the head of his cock lightly with one fingertip. The Captain gave a long groan against her throat as he sucked at her neck, and Elizabeth noticed a tiny spurt of cloudy fluid erupt from his organ and roll down over his shaft like the oil. She smiled, made a fist of her slippery hand, and pushed it down over his cockhead, letting it rupture the tightness of her fist, the bulk of his shaft uncurling her fingers as he slid within her hand.

Barbossa gave a sharp grunt and pulled her closer, kissing her mouth again roughly, “like fuckin’ yer quim,” he managed in a breathless whisper, then kissed her once more as she began to move her hand slowly and he gave another groan. She did this nearly better than he did, not afraid to grasp him firmly, mindful of her fingernails, keeping the pad of each finger in contact with his organ and concentrating on the head of his cock. Her hands though were nothing like her sheath, well fitted to his shape and size now, always welcoming of his hardness, always taking him in until there was no more, tight and clasping at him, fought to hold him deep within her whenever he withdrew to thrust back in again as her juices poured forth. Soon, he told himself, he’d take her properly soon. Her knuckles brushed his stomach as she pulled up and down his rigidness with quick strokes, his cock so erect that it stretched up against his body. With each of Elizabeth’s caresses he breathed harder, the head of his cock growing more and more sensitive, a feeling like a thousand tiny mouths kissing his organ overtaking him and growing in intensity. Elizabeth sensed his tense body and asserted herself more in their kiss, sucking his tongue as though it were his cock, shortening her strokes to only encompass his thrumming cockhead, more holding it in a gentle tugging, squeeze and rubbing her slick thumb quickly over the bottom of it again and again. Barbossa felt the gears within him tighten, like a musket being cocked, his balls rising against his body as fluid rose out of them, locking and loading. Had she been well enough to take it, he’d have pushed her to her back and thrust deep inside her, moving as hard and fast as Elizabeth could bear, he missed her body so immensely, no other woman had ever felt so good around him. No, not yet, but he still wanted to feel more of her.

His cock spasmed in her grasp as if it rebelled against being held, but Elizabeth was stalwart, her hand moving up and down again and again, picking up speed as she heard the Captain gasp and growl, his kisses becoming more urgent, his hand on her jaw, keeping her mouth open against his as he fucked her with his tongue, something so desperately starved bursting forth within him that Elizabeth longed to feed. He moved against her hand now, thrust up into it and moaned with each tight, quick stroke, his hands moving from her jaw to the buttons of her shift, ripping them open, two of them popping off and flying across the cabin as he buried his mouth at her neck again, and his big hands cupped, then covered and squeezed her meager breasts. Elizabeth’s moan joined his and she shoved herself into his hands, wishing she could make him a more buxom offer, but he didn’t seem frustrated in her lack of plumpness, his fingers pinching her nipples and kneading her champagne glass sized breasts until she felt an undying need to kiss him, lifting his chin with her free hand from her neck and collar bone and pressing her lips to his, her pumping hand never faltering once.

His cock strained, a few more drops of milky fluid seeping forth, priming him for his release which was only seconds away, and Barbossa grabbed Elizabeth tightly, one hand under her buttocks and pulled her as much against him as he could, his cock buried between there bodies, her hand still working him, his teeth gritted and deep growl in his throat, his body tense from head to toe, awaiting release, but he had to feel that he fucked something. “Move against me,” he growled through clenched teeth, his strong arms squeezing her to him and his cock between the two of them. “Like y’want me to fuck y’hard!”

Elizabeth rolled her hips forward, so entranced with the passion he suffered under, thrusting at him, drawing her body up his, bouncing in his lap and tightening her grip on him another notch, her fist racing up and down his shaft, and her belly and pelvis nudging his tight balls and base of his shaft over and over. He’d cum soon, she anxiously awaited it, would have loved to watch as his semen exploded from the head of his cock, but the Captain wrapped on big hand around the back of her neck and kissed her again deeply, the other hand demandingly mauling and squeezing her breast. He groaned from deep in his broad chest and thrust his cock up into her hand and between their bodies again with crazed lust, his organ vibrating in her hand.

“I love you,” she whispered, as out of breath as he was and felt the semen surging up his cock. The sentiment was perhaps out of place in the licentious moment, but she did love him, wanted to at least give him those words as he reached his point being that her body could not hold his and drink in the culmination of their passion for one another.

He couldn’t help his cry as he exploded, semen splattering all over Elizabeth’s chest and belly, his world spinning, all fading into only this feeling of powerful, quivering relief as it washed over him, another blast spurting from his organ as Elizabeth whispered again, “I love you.” The words were so unexpected, but filled his heart as his seed emptied from his body, and again Barbossa pulled her to him and kissed her, his tongue met by hers and fusing into a lover’s knot as his body wound down.

They came to rest leaning one against the other, foreheads touching as both gasped for breath, his semen still hot against her skin and his hand now lovingly caressing the breast he’d so ravenously handled moments ago. Elizabeth touched her lips softly with still closed eyes, only to have Barbossa close his arms around her and deepen the kiss, falling to his back and taking her with him against his chest, holding her to him even as the need for a breath dissolved the osculation.

“It’s good to hear such a roar from you again, Captain.” She smiled down at him, softly petting his chest hairs, then snuggling against him.

“Would be better if I were able to give y’the same.” His fingers ran through her hair, content now to hold her, though he’d fall asleep feeling guilty.

Elizabeth smiled. “Until then, I’ll be satisfied in taking my pleasure by giving you pleasure.”

Barbossa sighed, shifted some to better hold her as they drifted off to sleep together. “Y’sound like y’be wantin’ another outin’ with me.” He laughed.

“I want you back.” Elizabeth lifted her head and looked down at him, brushing his hair away from his eyes as she kissed him. “Please, the letters and the outing, and the dancing, they were all lovely, but they are no replacement for lying here like this, with you.”

Barbossa smiled, couldn’t have agreed more. There was definitely no going back to that pitiful hammock in the corner of the galley. He’d missed her so very much, and it was clear that she felt the same, and yet, they’d managed an evening together without putting her health in jeopardy. It was finally safe to return to her. “Y’ve me back, then, girl.” He told her, tracing her lips with his thumb and then kissing her again. “I’ll no longer lay in a common sailor’s hammock when the arms of a beautiful woman await me.”