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[bringmethatnpc]

The prisoners reach through the bars, whistling and coaxing. It's a rare thing to have such a pretty inmate about. For some of them, it's the closest they've ever gotten to a lady of Elizabeth's stature.

They wonder if what's under her skirts is the same as what's under more common wenches.

"Come closer, we don’t bite!" leers one, waggling his filthy fingers at Elizabeth.

Comments

[bringmethatnpc]

Beckett turns to face her, his smile sardonic.

(Predictably.)

"I’m afraid currency is the currency of the realm."

[try_corsets]

"I expect then that we can come to some sort of understanding," she suggests, hands still behind her back as she approaches Beckett. Her eyes do not waver from his face. "I’m here to negotiate."

[bringmethatnpc]

Drawled: "I’m listening."

He has the upper hand, and she has no leverage.

[try_corsets]

Elizabeth swiftly pulls the pistol from behind her back and points it at Beckett's face, hand perfectly steady.

How's that for leverage?

[bringmethatnpc]

It suffices.

Irritably, he says, "I’m listening intently."

[try_corsets]

The corner of her mouth tilts up, just slightly, as she displays the leather bound letters of marque in her other hand.

"These letters of marque are all signed by the king."

[bringmethatnpc]

So sharp she'll cut herself, Elizabeth Swann.

"Yes, and they’re not valid until they bear my signature, and my seal."

[try_corsets]

"Or else I would not still be here," Elizabeth replies dryly. "You sent Will to get you the compass owned by Jack Sparrow. It will do you no good."

Of this, she's quite sure.

[bringmethatnpc]

"Do explain." Expression a little darker, voice drier.

[try_corsets]

Elizabeth is only too happy to comply.

"I have been to the Isla de Muerta, I have seen the treasure myself, and there is something you need to know."

Both angry and smug, she smiles faintly, prepared to tell him a tale he'll never forget. Or at least a tale that will make him reconsider his goals.

[bringmethatnpc]

What Elizabeth Swann has yet to learn is that the only person in this room who looks good in smug is Cutler Beckett.

"Ah, I see. You think the compass leads only to the Isla de Muerta, so you hope to save me from an evil fate. But you mustn’t worry." He turns toward the map on the wall, away from her. "I care not for cursed Aztec gold. My desires are not so provincial."

And back to face her.

"There’s more than one chest of value in these waters. So, perhaps you may wish to enhance your offer."

[try_corsets]

Smug might not suit her nearly as well as it does Beckett, but she wears enraged bride very well.

Wasting no time, Elizabeth puts the pistol under his chin, cocks it and exerting just enough pressure, walks with him to the desk.

"Consider into your calculations that you robbed me of my wedding night," she sneers.

Oh, how she longs to hit him.

[bringmethatnpc]

Enraged bride?

Frustrated virgin, more like.

"So I did." If there is amusement, it's very, very well hidden as he signs the letters, and presses his seal into the small puddle of hot wax. "A marriage interrupted. Or fate intervenes. You’re making great efforts to ensure Jack Sparrow’s freedom."

[try_corsets]

No argument from this quarter.

Eyes narrowing, Elizabeth snatches at the letters.

Coldly, "these aren’t going to Jack!"

Of course not.

[bringmethatnpc]

Shame, then, that Beckett's got a tight grip.

"Really?" Equally cold. "To ensure Mr. Turner’s freedom. I’ll still want that compass. Consider that into your calculations."

[try_corsets]

He eventually lets go. Elizabeth eyes him with distaste, but she has what she needed. Now in possession of the signed and stamped letters of marque, she levels the pistol at Beckett and slips into the night, keeping to the shadows.