Pillow Talk or The Lullaby
Title: Pillow Talk or The Lullaby
Wordcount: 2.156
Summary: In a moonlit cabin, Jack sings his Lizzie a lullaby - and receives an elating confession . . . .
Disclaimer: *checks* Nope, still not mine! Plot is, though - as always.
A/N: Inspired by Shakira's "Something" - love that song!
Pillow Talk or The Lullaby
His voice was low and husky in her ears as he sung a lullaby. When she had asked him to sing her one, he had merely grinned this lopsided grin of his and, after a moment’s contemplation, had started singing. His breath danced across her hair and skin as she listened with her eyes closed.
“Quand tu
Quand tu me prends dans tes bras
Quand je regarde dans tes yeux
Je vois qu’un Dieu existe
Ce n’est pas dur d’y croire.”
“It’s French,” she stated the obvious, repeating and translating the words in her mind. “It’s beautiful, Jack.” She sighed, snuggling closer to his chest.
“Yes, it is, luv. But obviously it didn’t work for the first time ever - you’re still awake after all,” he whispered huskily, wrapping one of her honey-brown locks around his bejewelled finger. “When I was little, my mum would sing it to me every night, and it never once failed its purpose - neither when she sung it to me, nor when I sung it to anybody else - until now.” He furrowed his brow.
Sensing the smile behind his accusing tone, she grinned mischievously. “So that’s how you made sure your mistresses were sleeping soundly when you took away their little treasures and made a quick escape after you seduced them?”
She giggled at his faked shock. “No, luv, I can assure you that they were sleeping from exhaustion . . . .” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but that won’t work with me.” She stuck her nose in the air the way the fine ladies did when they were strutting around on various occasions.
Jack pouted like an infant with puppy eyes. She grinned widely at that and planted a soft kiss on his rough lips, then settled back into her former position; resting her head on his bare chest while their legs entangled.
There was a comfortable silence, then:
“Jack, can I tell you something?” Her whisper was barely audible in the moonlit cabin. She felt him nod.
“Of course.” He wrapped an arm around her securely, the other one under his head.
“You know, before I met you I wasn’t terribly . . .” She stared out of the window on the opposite wall. “Well . . . lucky.”
He smiled slightly. “Like, every prince charming lost his charm after you reached twelve?”
She knew he referred to Will and James. Well, he was right, of course.
“Yes . . . and I missed my mother so much - I still do.” She paused again, thinking, then a smile graced her sun tanned features.
“You know, when I was little, from the moment I could read the easiest of phrases, I collected flyers. I’d collected them earlier, because of the wanted posters. The pirates always looked so dirty and dangerous. Will always fetched the flyers for me. And there was one pirate; he was younger than the others, handsome even, and he was always mentioned. No flyer without a word about this Captain Jack Sparrow.”
Her smile broadened, Jack grinned. “He became my obsession. Will and this legendary pirate became the things that kept me cheerful; with all the formalities and all of the things I was NOT allowed to do because of the etiquette. How I hated all those dinner and tea parties with all those obnoxious, prissy little girls that looked down their noses at Will. But I know they had a secret crush on him all the same.”
She shook her head slightly, still smiling. Then she sighed deeply.
“But when Will and I grew older, we weren’t allowed to see each other anymore. I was so sad and started to miss my mother even more. But then I remembered the flyers with that dashing pirate and I stole away to get my hands on new flyers and wanted posters. Father barely had time for me. That’s when that Jack Sparrow became the one and only thing to keep me sane.
“My guilty pleasure. My obsession. My pirate.
“And I would dream that he’d come and kidnap me. He’d safe me from all formalities and tea parties; I would be a fierce pirate, just like him and we’d undergo the wildest and most dangerous of adventures. We’d sail the seven seas and I would be his forever.
“I just didn’t think that you’d really show up and literally safe me!” She laughed; a happy laugh that made her eyes sparkle and made his breath catch in his throat.
“But you did. You just came and made the past look so funny. You saved me and took away a big chunk of my sadness over the loss of my mother, the little time I could spend with father and that I barely ever saw Will.”
She bit her lip and stared off into space for a second. Then a smile broke over her face once more.
“It’s like you sang it your lullaby and then put my old sadness to sleep on a shelf - too high for me to reach. And it hasn’t awoken since.”
Elizabeth smiled at him. “And I don’t intend to use a ladder to get my hands on it.”
He gave a thoughtful, but amused look. “Promise?”
“Aye, promise,” she said firmly.
Then she turned serious again. Her eyes sober, she lifted her head to look up at him, her locks falling into her eyes. “You know that I have nobody left. What with father and James dead and Will back in Port Royal in his cosy little smithy . . . what I mean is, I feel as . . . if, if this was meant to be, then don’t condemn me to be free - ever . . . please.”
She searched his eyes for something and, finding affirmation, she briefly closed her eyes in relief.
He listened intently, nodding his head in consent. He understood perfectly what she wanted to tell him with that; she wanted to be free - but not alone. She wanted to be free with him by her side. He knew this, because he felt the same. “I promise.”
She blinked away a tear, propping herself up on one elbow on the bunk and whispered in his ear.
“No matter what happens, come what may, and even if we never marry: I will always love you.” She tangled her fingers in his dreadlocks as he held her close, smiling, his eyes shut, but opening instantly when she added one simple word. “Childishly.”
That had just been the most beautiful declaration of love he’d ever heard, and it showed in his dark eyes. It was simple, a simple promise, a genuine promise, from her.
Childishly . . . unconditionally . . . .
He licked his suddenly dry lips, surprised at her choice of words. She didn’t really demand anything, didn’t even try in any way to put the screws on him. Because they were so very much alike. He and her, her and he, they. Peas in a pot. He knew what she needed and she knew what he needed. And that was each other.
She kissed him then; slowly, gently, savouring the feel and taste of him, taking her time to explore his hot mouth.
When they broke apart, he smirked, gold flashing in the moonlight as he spoke. “And what is it that you love about me in particular?” he asked cheekily, his eyes holding curiosity now.
Elizabeth turned to face the windows and thought for a second, gently worrying her lower lip with her teeth. Then she looked back at him, curiosity now written all over his handsome face.
“There’s something . . . you’ve got something I can’t resist . . . things are just what they will be and, when I look into your eyes-“ she smiled at him dazzlingly, doe-brown eyes sparkling “-they say to me that . . . God still exists.”
She had purposefully used the vaguely translated lines of the lullaby (a little modified, though) at the end, not knowing how else to say it better. And because it was true; she’d lost her believe in God when Beckett had stepped into her life, causing so much pain everywhere, when her father had been murdered on behalf of Beckett and with him what was left of her close family, when James had died because he’d helped her.
But looking at Jack, looking into those warm, unfathomable, dark eyes that held so many emotions - he made her believe.
Jack smiled at her; the words of the lullaby fit just perfectly. He’d never really believed in God, and all the cruelty and desperation caused by the hands of Beckett and the EITC had only gotten him further away from believing in something he couldn’t see, nor prove.
But looking at Elizabeth, his Lizzie, his angel, his demise, his lady, his pirate, his pirate king. Looking into those doe-brown, warm, sparkling eyes that held so many emotions - she made him believe.
He nodded, eyes glittering in the moonlight. “Do go on, dearie.”
Elizabeth grinned, snuggling into him once more, drawing little circles with the tips of her fingers on his arm. “I love the temperature and smell of your body,” she whispered, inhaling the unique scent that was purely Jack.
Jack chuckled softly. “Then let me tell you something; I love the shape of your lips and the size of your nose.”
She laughed softly, biting back a remark about the size of something else while stroking his stubby cheek. “And that - I love that everything you say is so funny!”
She traced her thumb over his slightly parted lips. Her eyes lit up with mischief, her smile became wicked, knowing fully that what she’d say next would be palm for his enormous ego. “Plus you’re the best kisser that I’ve ever known.”
He smiled smugly at that. “Well, obviously. Who else could possibly be better?! But I can only return the compliment.”
She blushed slightly, pleased with his retort - just typically Jack. Her blush was hidden in the shadow of the moonlight.
Caressing his chest lazily, she went on “,You see the way I am; without make-up, without clothes - and you accept me like nobody.” She looked him straight in the eyes again, her own showing a blur of emotions, but most of all gratitude; that he let her be herself, that he didn’t expect her to be the perfect woman the way Will often did, to be decent. Gratitude that she didn’t have to hide anything from him.
He understood instantly, the expression in his eyes mirroring hers. In a husky whisper he said “,Me, too, Lizzie.”
And, his lips brushing her ear, he added “,And I will always love you . . .” Suddenly a tear rolled down her cheek. “. . . with eyes closed . . . .”
Her eyes widened at his last words. That had just been the most beautiful declaration of love she’d ever heard. It was simple; a word of trust. He trusted her again. So he really forgave her? He really forgave her what she’d done on the Pearl months ago, sending him to the Locker? He really trusted and loved her.
“And why is that, Jack?” She managed before her voice trailed off.
He seemed to contemplate for a second or two, then held her tightly, murmuring into her ear, a smile playing around his lips.
“There’s something . . . you’ve got something I can’t resist . . .” His face was alight with his smile now, the gold flashed in the moonlight pouring in. “. . . things are just what they will be.” She recognized her own words and, pleased that he felt the same, held onto him. “When I look into your eyes, they say to me . . . that God still exists.”
And they held each other tightly in silence, content that they had each other. The full moon cast its light on their entwined bodies, illuminating their pleased faces and sparkling eyes.
“Jack?” Elizabeth broke the comfortable silence. “Would you sing me the lullaby again, please?” she mumbled into his chest, already half asleep.
Jack grinned his lopsided grin and sung, low and husky, as his breath danced across her hair and skin for the second time that night.
“Quand tu
Quand tu me prends dans tes bras
Quand je regarde dans tes yeux
Je voir qu’un Dieu existe
Ce n’est pas du d’y croire…“
‘There’s something . . . I believe . . . I do . . . .’ Her sleep-muddled brain couldn’t form any coherent thoughts; she was far too tired and comfortable in her pirate’s arms.
A smile stole itself onto her lips as she heard his voice again; low, husky, a barely audible whisper the last she heard before sleep took over.
“Je te désire . . . .”
Enjoy! And I still apreciate comments! :) They really do keep me going, guys!