Chapter One - The Storm
Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean belongs to Disney
Every second she would catch herself falling, feeling as if she was drifting upon violent, grey seas. Perhaps she was. Or perhaps she had envisioned it. Imagination aside, it was not something she often felt and it made her feel vulnerable; a feeling she did not care for, yet remained undecided.
Oblivious to the raging storms that lay ahead in the distance, she proceeded on. Faring closer to the end of her world, she took a deep breath. A loss of awareness came over her as she fell further, allowing herself to embrace the feeling, no matter what it would bring. This time, she was too far gone to turn back.
Elizabeth woke early with a hollow feeling that morning. She lay in bed with a sense of regret, a sense of bliss, and a sense of confusion. Nausea hung over her and the pain in her head was almost enough to send her back to sleep, but also enough to keep her awake.
Foolishly, she had allowed Captain Jack Sparrow into her home; a silly mistake on her behalf, given the feelings she once had for him. Her loving husband, Will Turner, hadn't been home in years; a fault not of his own. Elizabeth was certain she could remain true to him as he would for her throughout the decade, but she could no longer deny what she truly felt.
She glanced at the form lying beside her. Selfish, indecent, un-gentlemanly, and of course unhygienic - everything that her Will is not. Why she was attracted to this man, she couldn't understand. If chemistry had anything to do with it, it must have got it wrong. Perhaps curiosity got the better of her.
"Jack…" Elizabeth whispered, gently nudging at the sleeping pirate.
Jack groaned and rolled over, his back to her.
"Jack, please," she said a little louder than before.
"Just a bit longer," he mumbled. Still no promise of movement.
"Jack!"
With that, Jack instantly sat up. A pound in his head to be sure, but it was subsequently forgotten. Upon seeing the sheets slowly glide down Elizabeth's bare shoulder, he smiled to himself.
"Ye know, love. I've a brilliant idea…"
"Oh?"
Jack grinned and inched closer, his hands making their way towards her waist . "What say you and I repeat the rather unexpected, yet extremely welcomed endeavour of last night… without rum… in broad dayli--"
"What!?" Elizabeth appallingly interrupted, brushing his hands away.
"Ah, I know what ye mean, love. With rum it is then!" Jack exclaimed.
Elizabeth was straight-faced. "No, Jack." It took every ounce of her to resist.
"Why not?" Jack pouted.
"Now is not the time."
"Now is a great time, darlin'," Jack began, attempting to advance on her once again.
"Jack, we shouldn't--"
"Shhh, Lizzie…"
So absorbed in the task at hand, neither of the two noticed the small boy of about eight years, standing in their doorway. Realisation hit them when the child asked his innocent question.
"Mam, is that my father?" asked William Turner III.
At that very moment, Elizabeth could see no way out of this awkward moment. Likened to the storm, she knew without a doubt, it would show her no mercy.
To Be Continued...