Dichotomous
By Clarity
ScifirootsDisclaimers
apply—this is fanfiction.
Pairing/Characters:
Elizabeth, no pairing
Spoilers
for DMC.
Summary:
In the aftermath of DMC Elizabeth is haunted by the choice she made.
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For all her childhood love of High Seas adventures and daring storybook pirates, Elizabeth found that her experiences with real pirates had greatly diminished the excitement she had once expected such ventures would bring.
In reality pirates were crude, disloyal brutes who perfectly exemplified the saying "no honor amongst thieves." Pirates were content to spill the blood of innocents and sacrifice the lives of scores of unwitting men in exchange for their our existence. Pirates were goats who fucked and left as soon as they were spent. They pinched the buttocks of prostitutes and eyed women with feral grins—married or otherwise. Even when there appeared to be a good egg in the filthy horde, his shell cracked under the application of pressure and any veneer of morality vanished.
Alone in the darkest hours of night she swore hatred of pirate scum. She hated all that came to mind at word pirate. She hated how so many lives had been ruined because of pirates, yet...
In the morning when she woke some time after dawn alone in a small, secluded cabin with the memory of giant tentacles overlaid with the image of a white-and-gold leer fresh in her mind, she found she could not hate the individuals who proclaimed themselves pirates. Hot, frustrated tears gathered in the corners of her eyes as she splayed her fingers over the sheets of a bed she should be sharing with her lover—her former fiancé, a man she thought she loved. Although the crew couldn't possibly known what she had done, she saw the accusations in every eye and heard the echo of his voice She couldn't regret her actions; she knew she had no choice. One pirate had caused the deaths of so many: condemned his crew, his so-called friends, and complete strangers to certain destruction. She had stopped that. She had to believe it was so.
Pirate. She shuddered and lurched out of bed. There was nowhere for her to go, no way to turn back time and make a different choice; no way to withdraw from this reckless rescue mission. She was trapped in the midst of pirates she hated and men she cared for. If she held the infamous compass now, where would it point? Did she even have a heading? She felt so exhausted and empty. All certainty had abandoned her.
She dreaded the crew's discovery of her betrayal. But even the shock and aversion she knew she would see on Will's face would hurt no more than a pinprick. Jack's evaluation of her, his accusation, had cut her to the quick. Had she become that which she hated?
I'm
not sorry.
Pirate.
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