the Dalaverse

I get special Weird Pairing award for this, yes? For - wait for it -

- no, seriously, wait...

...Groves/Tai Huang.

I TOLD YOU!

I swear to god it did not start out on that trajectory. But there you are. Begins after the final battle in AWE, and has additional Will/Elizabeth, implied Tai Huang/Sao Feng, nearly Jack/Groves, and one-sided Groves/Norrington (and implied, not-at-all-graphic rape).

I missed my favorite slutbunny.

(I realize I just wrote another fic entitled Terms of Settlement, but I didn't remember that until I'd already titled this one, and now it belongs)



Terms of Surrender


Groves hit the water like a shot, kicking furiously until his breath ran out and he was forced to surface. Sailors floundered around him, panicking as the Black Pearl showed her full broadside to the Endeavor. He ducked under again, heading astern of the two great ships. Every shot struck true, showering the men with jagged, deadly shards of wood and debris; even beneath the churning waves Groves could hear the screams. He was a good swimmer, his lungs strong, and he dove deep just as the Endeavor blew apart.

At last he was forced to come up again, choking on salt water. His fears of being spotted and shot proved unfounded, for the pirates were too busy roaring over their victory. An immense tapestry of flags waved in the sudden bright sun. He turned his gaze toward the fleet, hoping, hoping…but the particular brand of loyalty Cutler Beckett inspired did not last past his destruction. Every vessel struck her colors and fled.

“God’s arse,” Groves gasped as pain shot through his right arm. Grabbing at a bobbing piece of wreckage, he raised it to see two inches of oak stuck fast near his elbow. He grit his teeth and yanked it out, stomach roiling, but fortunately the wound wasn’t deep. No immediate danger of bleeding to death, then, but eventually he would drown. With belabored, awkward movements, he shrugged out of his officer’s coat and let it sink out of sight. Then he raised his arms and bellowed for help.

He had drifted far enough from the Pearl and the Flying Dutchman for safety, but another ship broke from the ranks gathered behind them – a ragged but imposing Chinese junk, a rare sight in these waters. The men who threw him a rope were Chinese as well, and they jabbered in their foreign tongue as he slumped panting on the deck.

“Your name?” asked one man of obvious rank, if not the actual captain. Stepping forward, he looked down at Groves with obvious distrust writ across his weather-beaten face.

“Tom Whitby,” he said at once, roughening his accent as much as he dared without sounding foolish. “I was lost overboard from the Black Pearl.” He prayed they were not acquainted with said ship’s crew, though he could hardly have claimed to be either crewman or guard of the Dutchman.

The man’s eyes narrowed further and he glanced over his shoulder at the Pearl. Groves followed his gaze, squinting in the harsh light of the late afternoon. There was little activity aboard the other ship, though they were lowering one of their boats.

One of the Chinese sailors asked a rapid question and the first man replied in quite fluent English. “We wait for the captain,” he declared, still glaring at Groves. “In the meantime, Mr. Whitby, please let me offer you our hospitality.”

‘Hospitality’ apparently consisted of an empty cell in the brig, though he at least saw his injured arm bandaged by a gruff older man with a long white beard and mustache to match. Groves asked for water and was brought weakened rum, which point he wasn’t about to argue. A single guard stood watch with a lantern as the sun sank beneath the horizon. Through the night and the following long day, Groves attempted to engage him in conversation to make his story more plausible, but the man had either no English or no interest whatsoever in his prisoner.

Another sunset had just passed when the man who had taken charge came for him. Deaf to Groves’ protests, they bound his hands behind his back with a thin silken cord, the elegance of which belied its strength. What little courtesy had been shown him seemed to have been revoked, their attitudes fallen from mistrustful to openly hostile; they jerked cruelly on his bandaged arm as they dragged him before the mainmast. A slight figure stood braced there, in Eastern battle dress with a longer plait than he had seen on any sailor. The captain turned and Groves could not hold his tongue against an exclamation.

“Miss Swann!”

Her face mirrored his own shock, though she recovered more quickly. “You were one of James Norrington’s men, were you not? Lieutenant…Groves?” Before he could open his mouth to reply, she added crisply, “And it is either Captain Swann or Mrs. Turner. Captain Swann to you, I should think.”

There was no point in maintaining his story now. He remembered her well enough, though they had never spoken beyond a single occasion where he had retrieved her purse from a bench. And Beckett knew she had fled to the company of pirates, of course, but he had never been overly concerned with pursuing her, despite the lies he told the governor. The highborn girl his commander had courted bore little resemblance to the hard-eyed woman standing before him now.

“Captain Swann,” he said, bowing his head. This false show of respect was nothing compared to the past months. “Is the admiral –”

“Dead,” she said flatly, some deeper emotion flickering briefly in her eyes before freezing. This news was not unexpected, but memories of James tore at his heart. After what he had been reduced to, Groves hoped he had found some measure of peace in his end. “Along with your latest master.”

Groves had known how small the chance of his survival was, but hearing it confirmed, he drew a breath of relief and closed his eyes.

With a short bark of laughter, she proceeded to misinterpret his reaction to a spectacular degree. “A grievous loss, to be sure. Whomever will you find to replace him in befouling the law and murdering innocent people? Oh yes,” she added at his surprise, “we know of what happened at Port Royal. A scant few were fortunate enough to escape persecution, and we doubly fortunate to encounter them on our travels.”

Her anger was an icy, barely modulated force. For a moment Groves considered keeping mum and leaving her to her delusions. But he had not kept his life thus far to throw it away over a point of pride, and he had nothing left to lose.

“Beckett committed heinous acts,” he agreed in a low voice. Elizabeth’s eyebrows arched infinitesimally. “And as his first lieutenant, I bear responsibility as well. But I did not serve him of my own free will.”

“Really,” Elizabeth drawled. Hands clasped behind her back, she circled him slowly. “I see not a mark on you, aside from that arm – pity the wound fell a few inches short of doing you any good.” Groves clenched his jaw but ignored the bait. “Tai Huang, does he appear to have put up a valiant struggle against tyranny to you?”

“No, Captain,” replied the man who had waited for her judgment. His fingers flexed on a battered sword hilt. “I see only an English lapdog.” He spat on the deck, away from his captain and thus away from Groves as well. This was small comfort in the face of Elizabeth’s acid contempt.

“Pray tell, then, Mr. Groves, how exactly did Lord Beckett coerce you into service?” She was pacing before him now, in short tight strides. The long blade at her hip looked serviceable and well-used.

There was nothing for it but honesty; he half-thought she might smell a lie the way a lion smelt fear. “He knew me for what I was.”

“And what,” she snarled, “is that?”

“A sodomite.”

If he hoped to shock her with blunt language, he was disappointed. She did, however, quit her furious pacing. Her expression did not soften, but it demanded clearly that he continue.

“Beckett threatened to bring formal charges not only against me but against a number of accomplices, some of whom were in fact innocent of any such crime. And my sister in Dover –” He paused for the need to clear his throat. “The shame would have crippled my family. And I assume you met Mr. Mercer, his…associate?” Making no attempt to conceal the disgust in his voice, he met her eyes squarely and let her draw her own conclusions. Perhaps she only imagined Mercer had represented a beating; or perhaps she could see the event as he saw it in his mind’s eye, with Beckett dispassionately sipping tea, not watching so much as waiting for it to be done with.

He had leant over the desk, then, and whispered into Groves’ ear: “If I have any further reason to question your loyalty, Lieutenant, I assure you I am quite capable of destroying any person or thing you have ever cared for.” So far as Beckett knew, he was never given such a reason. But Groves meant to enlighten Elizabeth now - his final card to play, what he had labored to keep hidden from cunning Beckett and brutal Mercer.

“I did what I could from where I was,” he said, holding her gaze. “I tried to warn some of those who were to be hanged, though I was rarely successful.”

Elizabeth looked away, biting her lip, though her voice was no less cold. “Why should I believe you?”

Groves cocked his head, ignoring the burn in his restrained arms. “Is it so different from the power he held over your father – the threat of harm to you, if the governor should refused to sign his name to an order of execution?”

Her temper flared and she took a quick step forward as if she would strike at him. Beside her, Tai Huang drew a half-inch of steel from his scabbard.

“You will never speak of my father again.”

Groves inclined his head in acknowledgment. He could see from her eyes that she knew it to be truth, and she did not touch him, but he was still in very dangerous waters.

“My apologies, Captain Swann. I have nothing left but a request – a plea for your mercy.” It was difficult going to his knees without the use of his arms, and the deck hard against his tired joints, but he managed. This was the first time she looked fully disconcerted. Implacable as her authority seemed to be, he wouldn’t guess she had been a captain for very long; and she was so young still, to hold anyone’s life in her hands. He found he pitied her as much as he feared her – a strange emotion after being borne by his hatred for Beckett for so long.

Tai Huang, it would appear, was not so easily swayed. “Do you wish him flogged for his insolence, Captain?” he asked, eagerly enough to alarm Groves. “Perhaps keelhauled?”

“No,” said Elizabeth, pursing her lips. She looked out at the rising moon. “Not at the moment. I have had a rather trying day and I fear I should enjoy it too much for my own good. See that he is fed, and return him to the brig.”

Groves felt too exhausted to spare either relief or resentment. He gnawed stale biscuit and fell into the hammock they had rigged for him. Perhaps the morning would bring recrimination, but at least he had lasted the night.



With morning’s light, she received him in her lovely, richly outfitted cabin. Her sun-lightened hair fanned freely down her back and she was wrapped in a jade silk dressing gown rather than leather trousers (Tai Huang appeared to have trouble looking directly at her for this reason).

Tapping her fingers on her redwood writing table, she said with some reluctance, “My decision will wait until I can confirm your story, Mr. Groves.”

Groves frowned, hoping he wasn’t putting his foot in it, though she was much less intimidating today. “With all due respect, Miss Sw – Captain Swann, how will you manage that?”

“It is true that none of the Port Royal citizens I met mentioned a guardian angel,” she admitted with ease, “but I have other sources.” For some reason he could not ascertain, she smiled with genuine fondness at this. “It will take a few months, of course. Until then, you may move freely about the Empress so long as you give me your word that you will not interfere with my crew in any way.”

Groves was only too glad to do so, refusing to think of what he might do in an engagement with another ship. As it turned out, this was a moot point. Elizabeth sent a party ashore the little island, which disappeared into the trees and returned two days later, laden with provisions. Groves guessed that they had gone overland to Shipwreck Cove, the location of which had caused Beckett much anxiety; however, he pretended ignorance on the whole subject.

Whatever her unnamed source might be, it remained silent for as long as she had predicted. During that time Groves divided his efforts between staying out of the way and lending a hand to the crew, who gradually warmed to him when their captain’s ire softened. There were two Dutchman and a French Creole amid some three dozen Chinamen, most of whom spoke ten or fifteen words of English. Elizabeth relied on Tai Huang for translation, but to her crew’s amusement he was also teaching her to speak Chinese. After a week of eavesdropping on their lessons, Groves was grudgingly admitted. She had a good ear for the language, better than Groves at any rate, though the characters stymied them both.

Their shared frustration over writing tablets led to something resembling trust, or at least tolerance. Groves was still wary of vexing her, but he no longer believed she would hang him at the least provocation. And Elizabeth, though she kept her own counsel for the most part, was nonetheless glad to talk of the people and places in their mutual acquaintance. After he had got the whole story of her adventures, he understood the source of both her relief in conversation and her previous reticence.

What she was not willing to discuss was her slowly expanding stomach. Groves was initially puzzled to find their morning lessons canceled, and worried to hear her retching behind her cabin door. With their strange, silent camaraderie Tai Huang was naturally the first to know, but he left Groves to figure it out on his own. This took longer than he cared to admit; it was not a problem ordinarily encountered in the navy or merchant services.

Elizabeth grew thin from being sick, then plump with the growing babe, though her condition was still not obvious under her loosely belted shirts. The men were not yet wise.

“But she won’t be able to keep them in the dark for long,” he said under his breath to Tai Huang one day as the other man was mixing ink. Elizabeth had woken from an afternoon nap with fresh energy and gone up to take the air.

Tai Huang shot him a sidelong glance. “Do you think they will think less of her for a woman’s weakness?”

“I don’t know if I’d call it weak to squeeze an entire person out of your loins,” said Groves with a grimace, “but no, I believe they are loyal after all this time.”

Testing the ink with a few delicate brushstrokes, Tai Huang asked, “And your loyalty, Mr. Groves? Has Captain Swann managed to buy it yet?”

“Why, of all the –” Groves began hotly, until he saw that Tai Huang had ducked his head to hide a smile. “You are teasing me,” he said with affected dignity.

“I will make sure it does not happen again,” said Tai Huang, restoring his countenance to its customary solemn expression. He nearly broke the ink bottle at the sound of a shout from the deck.

They raced to it, side by side, and Groves immediately felt foolish for thinking Elizabeth in danger; the Flying Dutchman was lying at anchor nearby and its captain sweeping their own into his arms.

Will Turner did not look like a man whose heart had been cut out; he looked young and tanned and healthy, and almost stupidly happy. He kissed Elizabeth swiftly, held her face in his hands and gazed beaming at her before kissing her again. The crew were busily going about their work and pretending not to notice this shocking display of indecorousness from their leader.

“And to think, she hasn’t even told him about the child yet,” said Groves with a wry grin. Tai Huang grunted, watching their embrace impassively for a moment before heading off to bully the cook into serving something fit for the king of the Brethren Court and the master of the Dutchman.



Groves would never know if they actually ate the meal, for they failed to emerge from the cabin for the rest of the day and into the next. Unable to sleep, Groves abandoned his berth around dawn and walked the deck. He found Tai Huang at the helm, gazing pensively out at the lightening sky and chewed on an unlit pipe.

“You love her, don’t you,” he said, not a question.

Tai Huang never allowed himself to be surprised at anything Groves said, and this was no exception. “Of course,” he replied placidly. “Though not as I loved my last captain.”

Groves wrinkled his brow. Elizabeth spoke of Sao Feng with some degree of respect, for he had given her his post, but never with much liking; and Tai Huang never spoke of him at all. He had always conflated Tai Huang’s affection for Elizabeth with a lack of same for Sao Feng. He turned from the view to ask what he meant, but Tai Huang had vanished into the dawn gloom.

Will’s duties did not allow him generous leave and he set off around nine. First he found Groves enjoying some cold bacon in the mess, and extended his hand.

“Lieutenant Groves,” he said, pleasant enough, though Groves didn’t think that had much to do with him. “Elizabeth has asked after your story, and I have assured her of its truth.” Groves couldn't tell if he learned it from Beckett or his victims, and he was glad to let the matter lie.

“Captain Swann has been good to me even without proof,” he said, and added, “I offer you my congratulations.”

Will grinned broadly, his face flushing a bit. “Thank you. Will you be – er, staying on, for the duration?”

“I meant to ask Theodore that question myself,” said Elizabeth tartly, coming up behind him and leaning on his shoulder. She was clad in a pale blue gown, the only European-styled women’s clothing she still owned, and her pregnancy was clearly visible. He thought her spirits were not quite as high as yesterday, no doubt due to her husband’s imminent departure, but she looked content as he had never seen her. For the first time, he truly believed she would be all right in this bizarre situation.

“If you will have me, Captain,” he said earnestly.



It was another few months before Tai Huang began making noises about their returning to Shipwreck Cove for Elizabeth’s lying-in. She called him a meddling fishwife and once or twice threw her half-finished page and brush at him, but relented with about seven weeks to spare. It took another five to sail to the island, so by the time they came into harbor she was dangerously close to her time and miserable about the state of her body. Groves followed Tai Huang into the town, leaving her in a rotten temper, to search for a midwife. They were gone for hours longer than he’d expected, subject to Tai Huang’s exacting standards, but Groves relished the opportunity to explore Shipwreck. It had something of Tortuga and Port Royal both in it, lost in its own little world.

When they returned to the Empress, they found Elizabeth hosting a little party in her great cabin, food and spirits spilling over the neat table. Tai Huang shot each member a withering glance in turn after ascertaining that his captain was in no immediate danger.

Indeed, she was merrier than she’d been in weeks. “Theo!” she exclaimed, waving him over. “I would like to introduce you, at long last, to Jack Sparrow.”

“Captain Jack Sparrow, for the love of all the mermaids in the sea,” said Sparrow with an air of long-suffered grievance. His elfin face sparked with interest, and Elizabeth sat back with a smug look upon her face. “I hear you've been masquerading as one of my Pearls, lad, and you give yourself too little credit - I daresay I'd remember you.”

Groves had admired Jack Sparrow from afar, and he was not surprised to find himself admiring him from a handspan’s distance. He was full of interesting stories, coy about which ones were actually true, and obviously too clever for his own good. There was little of James in him, but then again James had always remained oblivious to Groves’ regard, and certainly James had never invited Groves back to his cabin for a nightcap and the unspoken promise of more.

He was entirely surprised to find himself turning Jack down.

“I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head and drawing back from Jack’s crooked finger and wicked smile. “I’m flattered, believe me, and a part of me would very much like to, but there is…”

“Someone else?” Jack finished with a quirk of his mouth. “That’s always the way, ain’t it?” He accepted rejection gracefully, shook Groves’ hand again, and sashayed off to give his compliments to Elizabeth.

Tai Huang had long since retreated to his small quartermaster’s cabin. He called an affirmative when Groves knocked. A slim book rested in his hands, his French primer; Elizabeth and Gastón had begun teaching him the language. Tai Huang looked up at him, coolly expectant.

“How did you love your previous captain?” Groves asked, leaning against the doorframe.

Tai Huang considered this for several long moments, then said quietly, “All my heart, and soul, and body did I give him.”

“All?” He swallowed hard. All his confidence before Jack Sparrow had burned off, leaving him breathless and uncertain as a boy. Tai Huang did not smile, but his eyes were warm in the light shed by a single crimson candle.

“There is still some left,” he amended, shifting over to make room for Groves in the narrow bunk.