Characters: Jack and Elizabeth
A/N: A funny little drabble I thought of for Election Day this past Tuesday. Comments and critique & welcomed.
The sound of her voice, (oh, her lovely voice) meets his ears with a welcoming brush, each syllable thrumming about his ear softly like the brush of a moth’s wings. In an instant he has the capability to remove all the palpable features of weariness from his stance and face and instead replace it with an arrogance that defines him as the man people have always seen.
When he speaks his voice sounds like a stick running across an arm of chimes. “Yes, your majesty? Or do you prefer sire? King works too, although-.”
“Jack.” Her chrysalis eyes of brown narrow upon his words, her patience wearing as thin as ice. “I have an uncertainty I’d like to clarify, if you could spare me a moment.”
His everlasting grin feeds off her words, growing even larger. Making his way down the wooden corridor that leads from the Brethren’s Hall and towards her, he says, “Well then, spit it out, love; I haven’t got all evening.”
He notices her lips purse, causing his body to wriggle with satisfaction.
“I’d like to know as to why you voted for me back there – you must have your own selfish incentives, that I am sure. I believe it is in everyone’s best interest to know them before you begin turning your back on us.”
A short bark of a laugh leaves his throat. “Turning my back? You’re one to talk, darling.” He lets the sting make its mark before continuing, “And of course I did it for my own motives, however selfish they may or may not be.”
She opens her mouth to interrupt, but he places a finger on her lips, silencing her. “Ah, ah, ah. No. Listen.” He draws the digit away. “The fact of the matter, pet, is that you were willing to go to war, and that is what I wanted. Whatever I do next is subjective; that is, I’ll do it because I wish to or because it’s either my bloody neck or theirs at the moment, savvy?”
She appears disappointed. “There was no other reason behind your selection, then?”
A mouth of ivory and gold glimmers at her. He draws away a few steps, flourishing a hand about.
“Well, you also have quite a way with words; I can imagine you’re the only one noisy and bothersome enough to encourage that meek lot into sailing their little boats into the hands of the devil.” He turns and makes it a few steps away from her, only to stop and add, “You do have quite the talented mouth love, as I know from first, er, mouth experience. I’d work on that tongue a bit though; you tend to use it too much.”
And with that, he strides down the hall and out, leaving the crimson and indignant woman to herself.