A Sparrabeth ficlet for sheliesshattered, according to the prompts:
What you said:
After you kissed me.
When we were the happiest we ever were.
I wasn't meant to hear.
The Happiest We Ever Were
Once upon a time, had I been told that someday I would parcel the stages of my life according to the words of a pirate, I would have called the bearer of said prophecy mad. I would not have accounted for so many things, chief among them that said pirate's name would be Captain Jack Sparrow.
A Governor's daughter should never have delighted so in mad hijinks upon the sea, skeleton pirates cursed by greed for Aztec gold. A proper lady would not have reeled around a fire singing buccaneer songs at the top of her lungs, breathless and dizzy with rum and something far headier, something dangerous and far more damning.
You spoke words of freedom, words of a future of us, together. You said Wherever we want to go, we'll go.
It was the happiest we ever were.
Later, on the deck of the Dauntless, your face painted in moon-shadows, a fey gleam of approval in your eye, you said: Peas in a pod.
Fool that I was, I told myself it wasn't true.
I should like to say after that adventure I forgot about you, but it was never so. When fortune interrupted a wedding that would bind me to a good man, but rob me of my freedom, my heart breathed a secret sigh of relief.
The little voice I so tried to ignore in daylight and polite company chanted fate intervened.
Wicked thing, my heart reveled in the chance to pick up my sword and play pirates again on the high seas. It rejoiced in the necessity to find you again. It delighted in the uncomfortable stiffening of your shoulders on the dock when I called I have come to find the man I love, even as I marveled at my own brazen mouth. It exulted in the shape of your lips that curled wickedly with recognition, a trickster's smirk flashing gold in the night.
The longer I spent away from drawing rooms and confining lady's fashion, the more my true self came to the fore.
You saw it all with those dancing gypsy eyes, straight to the core of my black little soul. The day I finally kissed you, a Judas kiss, a Judith seduction, the threat of the Kraken all around, you said with admiration: Pirate.
From the safety of the longboat, I watched Jones' sea beastie drag you and the Pearl to hell, and a crucial piece of my soul gone with it.
I felt nothing until the day I lay eyes upon you again in the Locker, unable to breathe, coldly able to exist but not live in a world that no longer contained the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow.
We traded insults and threats, continued to plot, each of us holding our cards to our chest, trusting no one. I thought you must hate me, and I could hardly blame you, until the night in Shipwreck Cove when your voice rang above the cacophonous din of pirate lords all declaring their own superiority over their peers.
You said my name.
Elizabeth Swann.
You crowned me King.
When I looked to you in disbelief, for the briefest moment I witnessed a flash of something that struck me like lightning. I saw in just a glance that after all we have been through, you believed in me. When our eyes met you retreated fast behind your walls once more, and I suspected that part I was not meant to hear just yet.
Somehow despite the dangers we face, the journey has become easier, your returning confidence a soothing balm, infusing me with newfound strength. A certain glitter has returned to your onyx eyes that long remained absent, and I know I would have sold my soul thrice over to see that spark of life in you again.
The hour of battle is nigh, our armada of ragtag pirate vessels of all flavors a sight to behold, the Black Pearl the flagship among the pack of sea wolves. Like great birds of prey we hover atop the water, our sails proudly unfurled, guns at the ready.
We will stand and fight.
They will hear the ring of our swords, and they will know what we can do! By the sweat of our brows, and the strength of our backs…and the courage of our hearts! Gentlemen! Hoist the colors.
As I say these words I do not think of my fiancé, or my murdered father, or an answer to Barbossa's insolence. As I say these words, Jack, I think of you, and what was lost, and a spit of an island where joy reigned unfettered, even if for the briefest few golden hours.
I go to war for the hope that someday, we will be so happy again.