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Пираты Карибского Моря (ролевая) » Творчество в фэндоме » ФанФики на тему ПКМ » Сold
Elizabeth_SwannДата: Вторник, 22.01.2008, 00:18 | Сообщение # 1
Группа: Удаленные


Для тех, кто в ладах с английским... если кто захочет, могу перевести)) Очень красивая и трогательная зарисовка smile

The nights seemed longer when she was sailing through apparent nothingness on an arctic sea.
The days were normal, filled with menial tasks and mindless conversation. But at night, when she was once again alone with her guilt, the hours seemed to stretch on forever. Her thoughts took the same dreary path every time she turned in, and it became more and more unbearably cold.
She was not one of the fortunate few to have a cabin on the ship. She did, however, possess a small, straw mattress and a rather worn wool blanket. It didn’t help much. The cold here penetrated to the core, making her feel as if her very blood would freeze. Why, on deck that very day she had seen a sailor from Singapore snap his own toe off, frozen solid. Imagine!
She supposed that these were not the types of thoughts that would lull her into a peaceful slumber, but it was no matter. She hadn’t been able to sleep for three full nights now, so bothersome was the cold. Her own shivering kept her awake. And it was because of this rather annoying fact that the nights seemed so damn long. All she could do was think.
When she thought, she thought about Jack. And when she thought about Jack, she felt guilty. And when she thought about feeling guilty, well, then she thought about Will. Those were the thoughts that hurt the most. She hated not telling him, hated the hurt look on his face whenever she pushed him away. She couldn’t function normally with this weight on her shoulders. She couldn’t kiss Will knowing that kissing Jack had been her means of sending him to his death. She was overwrought, and as a result was hurting the one person who loved her most. And when she thought about hurting Will, she hated herself.
She curled into a ball, tucked up in her corner of the crew’s quarters. Her toes were dug as far into the decrepit mattress as she could manage, and the threadbare blanket was around her like a cocoon, but she could not get warm. It was no wonder, really, as they were sailing in some sort of glacial cave. The look on Will’s face as they had entered it was burned into her memory: There had been a flicker of fear there. For just a second he had doubted the decision to come on this venture, had been unsure, and that thought terrified her. What made it even worse was that he hadn’t come to her to talk about it. He had simply gone back to reading his charts. Remembering this brought tears to her eyes. She was losing him: He was starting to lose trust in her, and that was the beginning of her losing him altogether. And it was all her own stupid fault. Emitting a strangled sob, she buried her face in the mattress.
Her personal pity party was interrupted when someone peered around the stack of crates she had segregated herself with and whispered her name.
“Elizabeth?” She wiped her face hurriedly on the mattress and tried to compose herself. He tried her name a second time, and was greeted only with a few more muffled sobs. She simply couldn’t get a hold. Inwardly, she cursed her recent lack of sleep.
He took a few tentative steps towards her, and then spoke again.
“Elizabeth, what’s the matter? What’s wrong?” She sniffled, seemingly having contained the worst of her emotions.
“Nothing. I’m fine.”
“Clearly you’re not.” He kneeled down besides her, carefully placing a hand on her back, which was facing him. She softened slightly at his touch.
“Don’t worry about me, Will. I’m just cold.”
“It is a bit chilly,” he conceded. She gave a derisive sort of chuckle.
“A bit? I haven’t been able to sleep in three nights for shivering.” She didn’t know why she’d told him that. He didn’t need to worry about her on top of everything else. God knew she didn’t deserve his concern.
He seemed lost in thought, as he didn’t speak for several minutes. Perhaps he thought she was being childish, complaining about cold as they sailed towards World’s End to save a dead man from Davy Jones’ Locker. Maybe he thought her completely ridiculous. She didn’t have much more time to mull these possibilities over, as he spoke once more.
“If you wanted…I mean, I’m not suggesting anything, but we could—I mean, it would be warmer if—” he stuttered magnificently. It didn’t take her long to catch on.
“Stay with me, Will. Please,” she added the last part in a tone that sounded legitimately close to actual begging. He smiled softly, almost warmly at her, and nodded.
That small smile almost sent her back into hysterics. For just that split second in time, it felt like they were back when everything was fine. Before the East India Company and Davy Jones and hearts and giant sea monsters. Before she’d killed Jack.
There wasn’t time for her train of thought to follow that particularly macabre path again, however. She was suddenly enveloped in a kind of warmth she had almost forgotten. Will’s arms had somehow found their way securely around her waist, and she rolled over to face him. He gave her that same, crooked smile and shrugged, before pulling her closer to him and settling his chin on the top of her head.
Elizabeth lay completely still and stiff for a second, before settling tentatively into his embrace. She pressed her frigid face into the warm skin on his neck, and snaked her arms under the folds of his coat. He seemed to be made of heat and security in that cold, Arctic sea, and after a few moments, she even stopped shivering.
He didn’t speak to her any more that night, which reminded her that the wedge between them was still there. Right in that moment, however, it didn’t matter. He had come to her when she needed him. Even when he knew she didn’t deserve his help, he had offered it willingly. It was the same patient, selfless love that he had always offered her, and it comforted her to know that it was unchanged, even now. If he could love her in this strange place, when she did nothing to merit even the tiniest bit of his affection, then perhaps he would always love her. Perhaps he would understand, when the time came for her to tell him. Maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t losing him after all.
With these thoughts in mind, she drifted into the first blessed dreamless slumber she had had in months.
And for just one night, she was warm.

Анна-МарияДата: Пятница, 25.01.2008, 02:34 | Сообщение # 2
Группа: Требуется игрок на эту роль!!!
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Статус: Где-то там

Elizabeth_Swann, переведи, если можешь, я бы с удовольствием почитала

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Пираты Карибского Моря (ролевая) » Творчество в фэндоме » ФанФики на тему ПКМ » Сold
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