A/N: This is just a weird idea I got while watching LotR:TT one night. Plz no flames. If you hate it (and I wouldn't blame you) just don't review at all. I changed quite a bit, but the idea is from Wormtongue, of all things. BTW, I put AWE in my laptop, and when Elizabeth is sitting on the steps in the hold and Will approaches her, she's staring at what seems to be a picture on the wall. I couldn't see it on my TV, only on the laptop, but to me it looked like some Sparrabeth fan drawings I've seen. If anybody had noticed it and knows what it is, plz tell.
Disclaimer: I don't own PotC or LotR
Elizabeth stood on the deck, staring off into the night…if this oppressing darkness was indeed night. Their was no wind, no tide. Nothing. She didn't know if they were even moving, and if they were, there was no logical explanation as to how.
She was alone. Jack hated her, rightfully so. Will was hurt and avoiding her. She remembered the incident in the hold.
"You thought I loved him." "If you make your decisions alone, how can I trust you?" "You can't."
She had not denied loving Jack. Could not deny it. Could not lie to Will again. All she had ever wanted was freedom, a life on the sea, and love. Not tame, gentle love. She wanted something strong and dangerous and unending. A love mixed with potent lust and, at times, vicious anger. She hadn't expected it to hurt so much. Her world was closing in around her, becoming stifling and horrifically lonely. A single tear moved down her cheek.
"Crying? What could a cold-hearted murderess have to cry about?"
She drew in a thin breath, holding back the sobs that nearly choked her.
"Leave me alone, Jack."
He approached her in the darkness, his words in her ear cruel, belying the closeness and the warmth of his breath that had formerly stirred her to passion.
"You're already alone, Miss Swann."
Her heart was breaking. He was chipping away at it, piece by piece, ruining her.
"Who knows what you speak to this darkness, in the bitter watches of the night, as your life seems to shrink, and you find yourself alone in a cage of your own making, a wild thing in a hutch, unable to break free?"
He had circled around to stand before her, his eyes cold as night where once they had been soft and warm. He ran the back of his hand up the side of her face in a familiar gesture that had once been all lust and laughter and joy. Now it was a touch of ice.
"You are so fair. So cold. Like a morning of pale spring…still clinging to winter's chill. You have no heart……and you've taken mine to fill the void."
It was anything but a declaration of joyful love. It was a harsh statement. She had made him love her, and he hated her for it. His rough lips closed over hers, vicious and bruising. He pushed her against the mast and ravished her mouth, all take and no give. Finally, he pulled back, gazed into her eyes for a long moment, his face a portrait in sadness and anger, then he turned…and walked away. And she slumped down to the bottom the mast and sobbed.