Sparrow 《Completed 》--

Liz POV - Benton's Ship

The waves hitting the ship over and over again made Liz crumble on the floor of their small cabin. Her hands on her stomach, pressing hard and she tried her hardest to keep the water she just drank inside. She tried to focus on one point of the room, tried to zone herself out, thought of something else, but she felt the bile rise again at the back of her throat.

The bucket wasn't too far away. She just needed to grab it with her hand and pull it closer to her before she emptied her stomach for the eight time since she got up this morning. Her face was pale, dark circles coloured under her eyes and her cheeks sunken in. Elizabeth wasn't able to keep anything in since she was brought onto the ship. It's been two weeks now...And her nausea only got worse.

She leaned backwards, wiped her hair out of her face which was sticky with sweat. Liz wanted to move, but was unable to even pull her knees to her chest. The stormy weather wasn't helping her sea sickness at all ; the ship rocked back and forth due to the heavy winds.

Going upstairs, to the deck, wasn't a solution for her. Liz tried it once, Grace at her side, but the mere look of Benton when he stared at her made her even sicker to her stomach. She had to puke over the railings of the ship and had asked Grace to take her to their cabin again.

Both women were free to roam around the ship without a guard. They couldn't go anywhere except the Sea. And that would have been suicide. The tides in the harbour were known to be wild. If that didn't kill you, the temperatures would.

Taking some deep breaths in, Liz felt her stomach turning again. Swiftly pulled the bucket to her again and sat upon her knees. It hurt. She puked too much and ate too little. Nothing came out anymore except for the burning bile.

"I brought you some water," Grace mumbled, appearing by her side and sitting on the floor.

The woman's cold hands wiped away Liz' hair and held it up while Elizabeth groaned again. The chill of Grace's hands felt good against her hot forehead and Liz glanced at her friend before she sat back again. Leaning against the only bed in the cabin.

"You look like hell," Grace admitted before she wetted a towel and dipped Liz' face with it.

Elizabeth wanted to laugh, or even smile, but was too weak to even react on Grace's comment. She had to gather all her strength to turn away from the glass of water that Grace offered her.

"No," she whispered, "It hurts."

"You gotta drink," Grace said, not taking no for an answer and Liz eventually obliged.

She took small sips, felt the water filling her stomach and stayed still. It was only a matter of time before it would rise again and that Liz would need to pull the bucket towards her.

"How the hell did you survive the trip to Fort James when you first got here," Grace asked her while she leaned back against the bed as well.

Liz glanced at her and frowned. She could hardly remember the journey on the ship that brought her here. Her former husband wasn't on that journey, he was already waiting for her in Fort James. She felt sick for a day or two. But the sickness quickly went away and wasn't like this. Now, Elizabeth felt feverish, shaking and trembling. Hardly able to walk without Grace's help.

"I wasn't this sick," she meekly replied and saw Grace furrow her brows.

The woman suddenly let her hand rest on Liz' stomach, her blue eyes locked with Liz' and staring at her. Elizabeth sat up straight, startled by the sudden movement and pushed her friend's hand away.

"What the hell, Grace?"

The red head looked at her and sighed.

"How long?"

Liz was utterly confused and tried to pull herself up, using the bed as leverage. She failed and didn't get much further than to sit down on the bed. She looked at Grace, anger written on her features. As if feeling like this wasn't bad enough, Grace suddenly thought that acting weird would help the situation?

"How long?" Liz repeated the question and shook her head.

Grace stood up and looked down at her with a soft look in her eyes.

"Liz," she started, "I'm pretty sure you're with child."

Elizabeth stared at Grace for what seemed like hours. After a few minutes, she blinks and realisation settled in. The nausea didn't appear when she boarded the grand ship. It was already there days before this happened. The night she sat by the side of Charlie, Liz was already sick and blamed it on the hunger.

She started counting in her head. When was her last menstruation? Panic slowly dripped into her mind, making her lose count more than once. Grace must have picked up on her frustration because the woman grabbed Liz by the shoulders and made her look up.

"Calm down. I saw this with girls working for me. You're sick, the ship makes it even worse. Your belly is already swollen, I can feel the bump. You're pregnant," she slowly spoke, articulating each word carefully to make sure Liz understood.

And Elizabeth did understand. She went into a full blown panic attack and felt the floor shift underneath her. She steadied herself by grabbing the bed frame while Grace put her arms under hers. Grace kept her steady, breathing in and out with Liz until the panic slowly went away.

Locking eyes with Grace whose features were worried while she scanned Liz' face, Elizabeth slowly sat down on the bed, her hands on her belly and she cursed herself silently.

How could she have missed the signs? The nausea, her belly felt swollen and, now that she could count again, she didn't bled in over three months. It meant she must have been around 4 months far.

"Grace," she whispered, her cheeks colour a soft red, bringing some colour back to her face. "Benton can't know. He'd kill my child if he knows I'm pregnant from Declan!"
The woman before her caressed Liz' hair and took her face into her hands. Her gentle, soft eyes roamed over Liz' face while nodding.

"Benton won't touch you, or your child," the woman murmured determined, "I promise."

The way Grace said and held Liz, Elizabeth knew she spoke the truth and visibly relaxed. Something she cursed later because a sudden movement from the ship, made the bile rise in her stomach again. The bucket was still close enough, but she hardly made it.

"Fuck," she cursed, making Grace laugh out loud.

Liz glanced over her shoulder to Grace, looking angrily.

"What's so funny?"

Grace patted Liz' back and walked to the door.

"Watch your language," Grace winked, "Mum."

Liz grabbed one of the cloths lying beside her on the bed and threw it into the red heads direction but missed. Grace was already out of the door and the cotton hit the wood instead.

Elizabeth sat back again, her hands on her belly and her mind went to Declan. Wondering where he was now when the door of the cabin flew open.

Liz slowly got up before fully looking up. She thought Grace was already back with fresh water, but when her gaze travelled to the door opening, Liz freezes on place.

"Elizabeth," Chesterfield grinned and closed the door behind him. "I heard you were here. Missed me?"