|The Morning After
Author: Davesmom PM
Elizabeth's dream was to be Will's wife. The reality is not what she had expected. Takes place morning after the wedding night.Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance - Words: 2,865 - Reviews: 42 - Favs: 30 - Follows: 5 - Published: 09-08-03 - id: 1512225
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me, not even (sigh) Captain Jack. Alas for that. This is a silly little fluffer that I couldn't help. Also, updated once I learned that Elizabeth's maid is named Estrella, not Bella.
Elizabeth came awake slowly. As she opened her eyes, she wondered at the carved beams above her. Her own bed was covered in a canopy and her linen was much softer than the rough cotton her cheek was currently lying against. Where was she? Alarmed, she sat quickly, only to wince and gasp at the stiffness gripping her muscles. Dear heaven, what had happened to her? As she fell back to the sheets, awareness suddenly flooded over her.
It had been a year since Will's rescue of her. Her father had spent the first few weeks after trying to talk her out of marrying the handsome if somewhat self-effacing blacksmith. His endeavors had been singularly unsuccessful. Elizabeth had dreamed of being Will's wife for years. Even on the crossing from England, when they'd rescued the boy, Will Turner, from the sea, and Elizabeth had been certain he was part of a pirate crew, she knew she wanted no other for her husband. The extraordinary events of last year, when she had been kidnapped by the fearsome pirate Barbossa, and Will had joined forces with the infamous Captain (we mustn't forget the 'captain') Jack Sparrow to rescue her and break the curse of the Aztec gold, had shown her an entirely different side of the man she'd grown to love and admire.
Will had been ruthless then, even going as far as to render Jack Sparrow unconscious and snatch Elizabeth from the very grasp of Barbossa's men. He had somehow managed to escape from the hold of the naval vessel he'd helped to commandeer, which had been blown from the water only seconds later. He had fought the cursed pirates without hope of escape. All that he'd done, he'd done because he loved her. Elizabeth knew this.
Will had also displayed another aspect of his character when Jack Sparrow had been taken into custody for his own acts of piracy in the past. Despite his help in rescuing Elizabeth and defeating Barbossa, Jack was to be hanged. Before it could be accomplished, Will had arrived and declared himself to her. Then he had freed Sparrow and faced down Commodore Norrington and his men. Will had been magnificent and he'd given Elizabeth the courage to stand up to her father and Norrington and declare her own love for Will. And when her father had realized that Elizabeth would not budge in this matter, he had given up trying to talk sense into his wayward daughter. Instead, he had written to England, commending Will on his actions in bringing about the defeat of the most notorious pirate in the Caribbean and recommending him for knighthood. He had even arranged for Will to receive part of the bounty that had been paid for the pirates' heads.
Now all of her hopes and dreams had been realized. Her wedding had been yesterday. Last night was her wedding night, and this was the morning after. Elizabeth squeezed her eyes shut as the memories of last night hit her. It had not been what she'd expected.
Elizabeth was no longer Miss Elizabeth Swan, the daughter of the governor of Port Royal. She was now Lady Elizabeth Turner, the wife of a blacksmith and a knight of the realm. Elizabeth bit her lip as she took stock of herself. She was a lady and she would not give in to the overwhelming emotions trying to swamp her right now. She felt sore, everywhere. Her arms and legs were stiff, her abdomen felt cramped and she felt bruised there. She hadn't expected that. She had not expected to feel so battered.
Oh, Elizabeth had known that her first night with her husband was bound to be painful, even without a mother by to warn her of what to expect. After all, Elizabeth was no timid, missish dab of a girl. She was an educated woman who had often delved into her father's library and had explored many of the texts that would have caused her father to swoon, had he known she'd read them. These books had brought a blush to her cheek and had caused her heart to pound, but she'd learned much of what her husband would expect of her concerning her wifely duties. But the written word had not completely prepared her for the reality.
Moving cautiously into a sitting position, Elizabeth wrinkled her nose and allowed her full lips to assume a small moue of distaste as she noted the stickiness at the juncture of her thighs. Blood, no doubt, as well as Will's spendings. Once she was sitting, the cramping in her stomach eased and she closed her eyes wearily.
This was something she had expected; she'd expected to be a bit sore. No, the soreness wasn't what was making her feel different this morning. It was the other things. Elizabeth bit her full lip as she contemplated these other things. Regardless of what she'd expected, the fact was that things had changed.
Elizabeth had known that Will was not a gentleman, of noble birth and stately ways. His father had been, if Jack Sparrow were to be believed, a merchant sailor turned pirate of common birth. His mother had been a good woman, but also a commoner. None of this had mattered to Elizabeth. The thought of living in a crude shack, with only Will's earnings to provide for them hadn't even caused her to turn a hair. That her father had been successful in his bid for getting Will a knighthood and part of the bounty had been more a relief for Will than for Elizabeth. She cared naught for what wealth Will might have. She cared only for being his wife.
As you indeed are, now, she told herself. She was now Will's wife, with all the rights and duties that brought her. And it was the duties that she was now thinking of. Will was not a gentleman; he did not have the soft hands and overindulged body of a man of the noble classes. Even Norrington, a man who had lived the rigorous life of a sailor, was soft and tending toward paunchiness. His hands were soft and white, completely unlike Will's. Elizabeth shuddered as she recalled Will's hard, calloused hands. He had touched her with those hands last night, scraping and rasping at her body, which had felt nothing rougher than a sea sponge her whole life. Will had touched her neck and her breasts and even her womanhood with those calloused, abrasive hands. Reaching her own hand to tentatively touch the skin on her throat, Elizabeth was certain he must have left a rash everywhere. She would not be able to be seen in public for days!
He had not only trailed his hands everywhere, but he must also drag his face across her bosom and stomach, his beard-roughened jaw abrading her delicate skin. Elizabeth felt another shudder wrack her body as she remembered what he had done to her with his blacksmith's rough hands and his work-hardened body. He had pressed her back upon the feather tick and had forced himself into her softness. It had hurt, but she must admit that it had not been the bloody carnage she'd imagined from the fantastical tales her friends had told her.
After the first time, it had not hurt so much as it had been sore, but it was still a rather overwhelming experience. Elizabeth's face flushed as she realized that she would now have to face him. She would see him at breakfast, and during dinner. She would have to stand next him in the social gatherings that they were now to attend, with Will's new title of 'Sir', and know that that night he might turn to her with his rough, dry, warm hands and his hot, moist mouth, and demand those things of her again and again. As he had last night.
Another tremor slithered down her spine and Elizabeth let out a low moan as she felt more sticky moisture between her thighs. The pouty lips stretched into a wry smile. Not only Will's spendings, obviously, she mused. She loved Will deeply, with all her being, but she had not expected that their coupling, especially her first time when he took her maidenhood, would be so consumingly, explosively wonderful. The best she had hoped for was that after the pain, it would be a pleasant experience. How had she allowed her expectations to be so low?
As it was, Elizabeth could only wonder how she could stand calmly beside the man who had made her curse and writhe and moan his name over and over again, and not drag him into any available room and demand that he touch her again. How could she keep a sedate smile on her face and chat of inconsequential nothings over their daily meal without sweeping everything off the table and spreading herself in front of him to feast on, as he'd seemed wont to do last evening? She was hopeless. She would never look on Will's handsome face again without wanting to pull it to her, to cover his questioning features with hot kisses and replace that tentative expression with the look of love and awe that he'd worn throughout the night?
When she heard a quiet knock at the door of her new bedchamber, Elizabeth felt herself blush again. It might be her maid, who had followed her from her father's house to that of her husband, but it was more likely her new husband. Will had apologized that they could not afford a more stately home, with a lord's chamber and a lady's chamber, as was proper, but Elizabeth was glad. She would share her husband's bed. There would be no separate bedrooms for them, if she had anything to say on the matter!
Pulling the duvet up to her neck, Elizabeth called, "Come in!"
Will opened the door slowly, awkwardly, because of the ewer and cloth in his hand. "I'm sorry I was away so long," he said in his soft, caressing voice. "I heated some water for you to wash with."
Elizabeth watched him, her eyes soft. He was wearing the silk shirt he'd worn for their wedding yesterday, untucked, with the long, ruffled cuffs hanging about his hands. His breeches covered his thighs, but his lower legs were bare, along with his long, almost delicate looking feet. His features were fixed in an uncertain expression that made Elizabeth long to jump from the bed and run to him. Was there ever a man such as this one? Even though they had a maid and a manservant, he had awakened early to heat water for her. A feeling of love and gratitude swelled in her breast, causing her to choke back a small half-sob.
Fortunately Will didn't hear it. He had turned from her and was pouring the hot water into a basin, and arranging a towel for her. When he was done, he turned in her direction, his head down. Elizabeth could see his flushed cheeks, but wondered why he would not meet her eyes. Had she done something wrong? She had been certain he was pleased with her, but perhaps she was wrong…perhaps her inexperience had left him unfulfilled.
"Will? Is all right?" she asked quietly.
"I am fine," he answered quickly. "I only wished to give you a little privacy. I'll leave you now. Do you wish me to send Estrella to you?"
Elizabeth's eyebrows drew down in a stubborn line. "You seemed not to care for my privacy last night," she said. "Has something changed? Did I not please you?"
Will's startled eyes flew to hers. "How could you say that? I--you--that is, last night was more than I could ever have hoped for. You are all I've ever wanted. I could not have ever wished for a more loving, passionate wife. Indeed," he added with a self-deprecating smile, "you left me speechless and breathless."
Relieved, Elizabeth gave Will a smile. "Well, then, husband, do not offer me this nonsense about 'privacy'. You shall get precious little privacy while I'm about. I mean to live 'in your pocket' as they say!" she declared. "I have had to wait too long for you, Will Turner, to let you go now!"
Will's small smile grew to cover his face. But Elizabeth wasn't quite finished yet. "I realize you left her at a young age, Will Turner, but did your mother never teach you the most important lesson?"
"And what might that be, my lady?" he asked, his eyes sweeping over the duvet, seeming to pierce through the thick covering.
Flushing, Elizabeth slowly lowered the duvet, revealing the generous curves he'd been seeking clad only with the bed sheet and a thin night rail. "Well, that would be that you must learn to clean your own messes, Sir William."
Will made a small choking noise before snatching up the basin and cloth. He hurried to the bed and set the items on the small table beside him. Dipping the cloth into the heated water, he squeezed out the excess and turned to the lovely woman in the bed. He hesitantly pushed back the sheet and slid her night rail up her long legs. Then, reverently, he began to wash away the evidence of their night together.
Elizabeth moaned softly, opening to him completely. She barely noticed when he left off cleaning and put the cloth aside to touch her with his bare, rough hands. She did notice when he abruptly pulled his hands away.
Opening the eyes that had slid closed, Elizabeth looked up at him. "What is it, Will? Why did you stop?"
"I'm sorry, dearest," he whispered. "You are tired and must be sore. Yet I find that if I do not stop, I shall be forcing myself upon you yet again!"
Before he could get up, Elizabeth grabbed at his wrist, stopping him. "Will, I am your wife! It is my duty to accept you, whenever you wish! But more, it is my pleasure to do so! You would not be forcing me, Will! I--I want you to take me, again and again! Indeed," she stammered, flushing, "I was only just wondering how I am to sit quietly across from you at breakfast without ripping your clothes off and demanding you perform your husbandly duties yet again!"
She watched as the man she loved stared at her, his mouth slightly agape. He closed it abruptly and swallowed, hard. Then, slowly and carefully, he leaned in to take her lips. Before he could kiss her in earnest, though, Elizabeth stopped him.
Placing a hand on his chest, she pushed him back. "It seems, Will, that I was cheated on my wedding night," she said with a smile and a twinkle in her eye.
Will's expression grew adorably confused and Elizabeth had to fight not to simply gather him to her at once. Making her expression stern, she continued.
"Indeed, sir, you were quite unfair to me. You gazed your fill at me, even taking the liberty of removing my clothing until I stood, quite naked, in front of you. Then, however, you snuffed the candle and I had only moonlight with which to appease my curiosity. I cannot think how I might come to forgive you, sir!"
The confusion was replaced by a look of consternation. "I thought only to spare your modesty," he said quickly. "I did not think—,"
"Will!" Elizabeth interrupted imperiously. "If you insist upon being so polite and considerate, you will make me wonder what has become of the pirate who shared my wedding bed! Now, take those garments off immediately and come back to bed!"
She had already pushed the duvet to the foot of the bed and now kicked the sheet away impatiently. Will's eyes smoldered as he watched her reach for him. He moved his hands to the tie at his throat, shedding the light silk shirt. As he reached for his breeches, he murmured, "As you wish, Lady Turner!"
"Oh, Will," she gasped as he fell on her, gathering her in his arms. "How many times must I tell you to call me Elizabeth?"
His eyes burned into hers as he lowered his mouth to hers. "Once more, as always, my lady," he whispered before kissing her.