Author: Keelie Hall.
Pairing/Characters: Miss Swann and Captain Sparrow.
Word Count: Around 700, give or take a few.
Rating: PG despite how very NC-17 many of my unwritten fantasies might be – I swear, one such fic will be prompted eventually ;)
Genre: Pirate love, luv.
Summary: Elizabeth finds herself pillaging and plundering like a pirate, but her most problematic discovery is in fact finding out what has been stolen from her.
Disclaimer: Disney owns the characters; I own my own imaginings.
Spoilers: This fic is post-DMC so please keep that in mind before reading if you haven’t yet seen it (and if you haven’t, well…get to it, mate!)
Warnings: This is my first attempt at writing about Elizabeth, let alone from her point of view. I hope I capture her faithfully and present her engagingly…
Notes: This community is addicting ;)
Special Thanks: To some of the lovely writers of this community and others who have made me reconsider my stance on Elizabeth, thus inspiring this wee story; let it not be mistaken, however: Jack/Will shipping is still strongly coursing through my veins and will always dominate ;)
Settling down in her corner of the camp for the night, she couldn’t decide just why she was unable to look Will in the eye. Was it the kiss, or was it the lie? And why did he stare at her so fiercely, trying to catch her gaze like a man grasping for a hand whilst drowning? Did he know about them both? Did he realize that his beloved Jack was no hero and his darling Elizabeth was no devoted saint? Could Will see in her that something had irrevocably changed?
When the fire had died down to a small, dwindling flame and Elizabeth was almost certain that the rest of the crew had ebbed and faded too, lost in sleep or their own feverish thoughts, she pulled out her hard-won plunder and held it up, watching it glitter in the moonlight. What had she done? She had betrayed Will, she had all but killed Jack, and all she had to show for it was this damned ring. The sight of it made her think of his hands at her face, the warmth of his skin and the coldness of the jewels on his fingers sending shivers through her even in memory. No, she mustn’t think of these things, but her thoughts wandered willfully…
…Her hands tangling in his hair and those silly, superfluous beads. His breath mingling with hers as their mouths met, tasting of rum and death and something at once callous and sweet. The look of quiet acceptance on his face when he realized what she had done. The almost impressed manner in which he regarded her, and the strange gaze of forgiveness and frailty, tenderness and wanting, as she nearly wept and left him tied to his ship so helplessly. All of these apparitions still lingered before her, as hard and undeniable as the circle of gold that cooled her flushed and anxious hands…
As Elizabeth sat fingering Jack’s ring, sliding it on and off of the finger where her wedding ring should by then have been, she began to fear that, despite her best efforts to push Jack out of sight and out of mind (and it began to become more and more apparent that only one of these efforts had been at all successful), Jack had stolen something in those last moments on the Black Pearl too: her heart.
Every member of the crew had their own reasons for wanting to find Jack, and undoubtedly Elizabeth was not the only one mulling over hers in the dark of the night. She had sworn along with the rest of them that she would travel to the ends of the earth and back to recover the lost captain, and concurrently she certainly had her reasons. One mainly. Elizabeth Swann wanted back what Jack had stolen, and she would stop at nothing to retrieve it.
Tucking the ring into her bodice on the same chain she had once worn Will Turner’s cursed and golden inheritance, Elizabeth closed her eyes and sighed deeply. She lay back on her makeshift bed in the sand, and she told herself she must sleep. The sun was nearly rising, and a long, perilous journey stretched ahead of them all; it would seem no less daunting in the light of the morning.
She had truly thought that sacrificing Jack would save their lives, including her own. But what was a life without a heart and only a tiny trinket by which to remember when she had last felt it beat within her? What life could any of them lead without this man to lead them, no matter how blundering and contemptible and selfish he could be - Yes, be. She knew in the place where her heart had been that somehow, some way, Jack lived. And she would find him, the pirate she cursed and keened for all in the same instant, even if she died in the trying.