Elizabeth Swann always wanted to meet a pirate (captain_swann) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2013-10-01 17:59:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, ariel, elizabeth swann |
Who: Elizabeth Swan and Ariel
What: Elizabeth sneaks into a bar in her new jacket and orders some rum
When: After talking to Irene
Where: A bar, a park
Status: complete
Rating: Pg-13
She was an odd sight, a girl in a red pirate’s jacket. Her blonde hair stuck out from under the pirate’s hat, a lot fancier than her clothing would otherwise indicate, and beneath the coat, her bare legs seemed to go on forever until they ended in heeled boots. She charmed her way past the bouncer, and swayed to the song on the speakers as she looked around. She made her way to the bar, and patted the table. Elizabeth might as well play up the part. “Give me something with rum. Please.” Almost.
The young lady’s voice seemed to come from right over his right shoulder, so Ariel looked up. He’d been having a late dinner, contentedly reading an old leatherbound copy of Gulliver’s Travels, but the bar had seemed to get busier. And now this ... whatever she was. She was quite beautiful, he had to admit, if dressed a bit oddly. Was she wearing trousers?
No trousers, just a skirt, but it was hidden beneath the jacket. Elizabeth looked over at the man and gave him a cocky grin, pushing her hat up a few inches. “Oh, is that real leather?” Her attention was diverted to the book.
“Indeed.” That was fine by him; it had been a long time since he’d interacted with a girl this young and beautiful. “I run a rare bookshop not far from here, and I figured I’d take some reading material with me. It’s not rare, just old.” He smiled a little.
“I think I passed that place on the way here. I got distracted by…” She gestured down towards her jacket. She tried to sound more American, but it didn’t really work. “Well, this. And there’s nothing wrong with an old book. Those are the best kind.”
He didn’t care about her accent. “I quite agree,” Ariel said, smiling a little. “Are you in theatre?” That would explain the pirate getup, but really, he was just curious.
"Oh. No. That might be kind of fun, actually. But I actually do Renfaire. Period things!" She pulled her hat off and pushed her hair behind her ear. "I know it's silly."
“Oh, Renaissance Faire.” Ariel shut his book, turning to look at the girl. “I don’t think it’s silly at all; I think they’re fascinating. I enjoyed the one I managed to get to in New York. Honestly, I’d thought of joining the cast of one myself.”
“The one out here isn’t until April.” She sighed, dramatically. “Halloween will be a good test run for a lady pirate.” She gave him a wink, then turned to the bar when her drink arrived. She looked at it with some trepidation, then girded her courage, and took a sip. She promptly started coughing.
Ariel watched her try the rum, and it was absolutely impossible not to grin when she began to cough. “Here.” He handed her his glass of water, smiling. “Rum isn’t for everyone. I find it a bit too strong myself.”
“A proper pirate should be able to handle rum,” she insisted, taking the water anyway to try to clear the burning in her throat. “But, uhm.” She swallowed. “I suppose water is for a proper lady.”
Ariel chuckled in spite of himself. “Could try half and half, perhaps? No pirate starts out at a full rum glass.” His tone was grave, but hopefully she didn’t think he was teasing her. “Have you ever tried mead?”
“Only a little taste. It was really good.” And she had to sneak that taste since she’d used her real ID to register for the faire.
“That’s my personal favourite.” Ariel said. “It’s lighter and sweeter, at least if it’s made well.” he smiled. “The faire that I went to back east served a honey mead that tastes better than most beers on the market, I find.”
“Oh. That sounds so good,” she said, leaning her elbow on the bar and giving him the her full attention. She was eager to know more, and talk with someone who liked the faire too. It didn’t hurt that he was cute. “Finding the faire was really the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“Oh? Why do you say that?” Ariel was genuinely curious, looking over at her.
“It gave me another outlet. Besides books. I’ve made some terrific friends. It’s a safer way to rebel, too.” She ducked her head, thinking about some of her costumes. “And fun.”
“Oh, dear. Rebelling against one’s parents is always a fraught endeavor.” Ariel didn’t want to laugh at her; she was clearly earnest, but she was also quite young. “It does speak volumes of your maturity that you’d rather have gone to the Renaissance Faire than do something stupid involving sex, drugs and what passes for music in nightclubs nowadays.”
Elizabeth’s expression shifted into a mixture of embarrassment and ‘uh oh’, like she’d been caught. She unbuttoned her jacket and opened it like she was flashing him. She was wearing a skirt that went down just past where her fingertips would be if she held them right, and a low cut top. “I like to dance sometimes.” She regarded him quizzically. “Is that a problem?”
Ariel might have blushed. “There’s no problem,” he said. “I just mean that the Faire seems a little less rife for danger.” A lot of rowdiness happened at renaissance faires, but not usually very many drugs or assaults. “You’re very pretty, and unfortunately, men aren’t always respectful.” Hopefully he hadn’t just made an idiot of himself.
"This year, there was a severe jousting injury. You should have seen the blood. He was okay, except his pride." Elizabeth grinned at the memory. Less so at the blood, more so at the woman who'd won. His words sank in a little and her cheeks flushed. "You're very gentlemanly. You'd fit in very well."
Ariel laughed. “Well, as long as the important parts were spared.” Everyone, himself included, could always do with a bit less pride. He inclined his head at her compliment. “I just try to treat others how I’d like to be treated.”
“Not enough people really do so.” She steeled herself and took a sip the rum. God, it burned, but she wasn’t going to be deterred. She wanted some courage, anyway. “Do you get any really interesting books, in your shop? Unusual ones?”
This was a much safer topic than how pretty she was. “Oh, definitely. Lately I’ve been getting an excess of books on magic, for some reason. Very interesting old grimoires based on Christian mythology and religion.” Ariel smiled. “From a historical perspective, it’s very interesting stuff.”
“I’m sure it is! I’ve read about some interesting things. There’s a book in my father’s library that is at least three hundred years old. I have to wear gloves just to open it. But it’s a … memoir, I think, of a sailor.” It had been one of the things that got her into faire.
“How fascinating.” Ariel smiled. Three hundred years ... “So around 1700? That’s quite early. It might be worth something.”
"I'm sure it is. I never asked what he paid for it. I had to beg him to ship it to the States when we moved out here." She smiled, a little sheepishly, looking up at Ariel from under her hat.
“Come to my shop sometime.” Ariel hoped she didn’t take it as something lechy, merely an invitation. “I know I have old autobiographies and biographies, and I do have a fairly extensive section on the Age of Sail in nonfiction. It runs from around 1750-1830, that time frame.” “My name is Ariel. Erm. By the way.”
“Elizabeth.” She held out her hand. “Elizabeth Swann.” This man was far more interesting than any of the ones her father introduced her to. “I can go right now, if you aren’t busy? You had me at Age of Sail.”
He shook it gently, inclining his head with a smile. “It’s very nice to meet you, Miss Swann.” It was. He liked readers. “It’s after hours now, but I don’t see that there’d be a problem in letting you have a look.” As long as she felt comfortable. And the shop was literally four doors down, so she wouldn’t have to go far.
“Great.” Now, if only she could bloody stand, she’d be good. She looked at the rest of her rum, chewed her lip, then knocked it back, followed quickly by a chaser of water. To her credit she didn’t cough too much. She’d weighed her options, and she had a taser. She was good. The world could stop spinning though.
Ariel could see her eyes go a bit glassy. “Perhaps we could meet tomorrow, during business hours?” How to put this delicately. “You don’t know me that well, and you don’t appear to be ... entirely in control.” He obviously wouldn’t do anything, but it would be safer to take a slightly inebriated woman home than risk being alone with her.
“I am perfectly in control of the situation,” she assured him, stepping off of her stool and stumbling. “Oh god, I shouldn’t have made the rum gone…”
Ariel reached in and grabbed her arm before she fell to the ground. “I’m not so certain, Miss Swann.” He kept a hold of her arm, gentle but firm. “Why don’t we go for a walk, or I’d be happy to escort you home?” He could tell her parents something; well, the rum smell would be an issue, but still.
She leaned against him. “A walk..I’d like a walk, Mr. Ariel.” She looked up at him and smiled, wanting to avoid being taken home.
“My surname is Gagne, if you want to use it, but don’t feel obligated.” Ariel smiled, letting her lean. “A bit of air might help that nasty turn.” She certainly wasn’t inebriated, oh, no.
“Thank you,” She said, giving him a sweeping bow, complete with sweeping her hat off of her head. She bonked her face into his chest and flailed slightly, pulling back and pretending that hadn’t just happened. “Air would be wonderful!”
He was half convinced she was some silly child, and half of him was charmed by how refreshingly amusing she was. “We’ll be off then, Miss Swann.” Ariel left enough on the bar to cover his things and hers, plus a decent sized tip, still with a hold on her arm. “This way, if you don’t mind?”
“I don’t mind at all.” With the rum in her, she walked with a bit of a swagger, even if she hadn’t buttoned her jacket back up.
A few people snickered in his general direction, but Ariel ignored them. He rather liked the girl’s attitude. He led her through the door, taking a right out onto the street. “Are you familiar with the area? If not, there’s a nice park a few blocks down, and we’ll walk past the shop.” He wanted her to be a bit less ... confident, perhaps ... before she came into the shop.
“Thank you.” She liked that idea, and looped her arm through his. Her other hand slipped into her purse. “I think I’ve passed that park before.”
“Unlike many parks in this city, it’s actually very nice.” A lot of Orange County’s parks had trash problems. “You’re clearly not from Los Angeles; have you been here very long?” He was mostly just making conversation while her head cleared.
“Longer than it seems. My father works at the consulate, and we’ve been here since I was ten.” Better than answering how long she’d been there, anyway.
“Oh, goodness. That’s quite some time.” He would guess at least a third to half her life; Elizabeth couldn’t be older than twenty-one. “Do you miss home?”
“Yes. And no…I don’t remember as much of it as I’d like.” The world swayed pleasantly, and she glanced back up at him. “Well I miss the view. But the new view is much better.”
“I’m glad it’s not an extreme hardship for you.” Ariel meant it; in the dreams he’d missed New York terribly. At least until he’d arrived in China. “Are you at university here?”
“I haven’t selected one yet,” she replied, earnestly. “Well the choices have been made for me but I submitted to several others my father doesn’t know about.”
“Made for you?” Ariel echoed, frowning faintly. He assumed she’d just taken time off before university, but the idea of not getting to choose one didn’t sit well with him. “I certainly hope you had at least some input on your own future, Miss Swann.”
“Oh, I get to pick from a prearranged list. Only the best for me, you know.” She waved a hand, imperiously.
“What if you don’t want the best?” Ariel was getting the impression of her family, and it bothered him, for some reason. He would never try to push his daughter into a niche. Then again, his daughter still liked to eat crayons, last he’d heard.
“I’m afraid I don’t have that choice.” She looked down at the ground. “I don’t even know if I’d get in on merit.”
“That just doesn’t seem fair.” Ariel shook his head. “Forgive me for speaking my mind, Miss Swann, but even going to a second-rate school if you want to would suit you better. Those who do things entirely against their will tend to do them poorly.”
“I can’t really blame him. I’m all he has of my mother, and he wants the best for me,” she replied. She had a tone to her voice, as though she’d only partially accepted an eventuality.
“Well, of course a father wants the best for his daughter. I certainly want the best for mine. But I remain unconvinced that the best for anyone is forcing them into something they may not want.” Ariel shook his head. “I’m sure I shouldn’t pry, but I’m a father myself, as I said. Somewhat.” No thanks to Margarita.
“Oh?” She looked over at him again, a smile ghosting across her lips. “I’ll bet she’s just the sweetest.”
“She lives in New York with her mother. I miss her terribly.” He was somewhat surprised that he felt comfortable admitting that, but he did. “She’s three, almost four.”
“She sounds adorable already,” Elizabeth assured him, swaying a bit on her feet and thinking he sounded really sweet talking about his girl.
“I only hope I get to see her grow up.” Ariel smiled, but looked away. “Miss Swann, may I make a suggestion for the future? To perhaps eat before having rum again?”
“That’s probably a good suggestion. Oh look, a bench.” She plopped down in it and rested her head in her hands. “That rum is really..catching up to me. I think I’ll need to call a cab.”
“I can do that.” Ariel guided her to sit down. “Would you be going somewhere within the county?” The cabs should all be all right in that case. They tended to complain about going into Los Angeles proper.
“Uhm.” She lifted her head and looked up at him. “I think so.” She fished around for her phone, pulled out the taser, put it back, pulled out her phone. “It’s on the map app.” She held it out.
Ariel was mostly amused that she had a taser. He took her phone after she’d unlocked it, looking on the map application for her most often used address. He read it out to her. “Is that right?” If she didn’t know, well, they might have to wait a moment until she remembered.
“Yes!” She pulled herself to her feet, using him for leverage. “That’s it. That’s perfect.”
He made the call, giving the address of the shoe shop across the street. “They’ll be here in fifteen minutes. You don’t smell like rum anymore, though, if you’re worried.” Even a permissive parent might frown if their child came home smelling of liquor.
“You’ve been smelling me?” She asked, her head tilting at an angle. It was a type of flirting she’d picked up at the faire.
Ariel blushed, though he wasn’t sure why. “Not intentionally,” he replied, trying to sound grave. “Rum is rather pungent.”
“Oh.” She ducked her head and feigned a distinct interest in the ground.
“It’s all right.” Ariel smiled. “I do hope you’ll still come to my shop sometime, Miss Swann. I’d love to show you that section on the Age of Sail. A proper pirate must needs know about her forbears, of course.” He was only half teasing; she was so dedicated to her passion. It was laudable, really.
When the cab came, she hesitated only a moment, before leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. Then she walked towards the cab, like a very tipsy pirate, and slipped in.
Ariel just watched, oddly charmed, one hand resting on his cheek. “Will you come there?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she replied, like a proper British lady.