Prompt: Hesitation
Characters: Elizabeth Swann (Will Turner), no pairing
Words: 536
Rated: K-T
The Black Pearl rocked gently on a calm tide, tethered carefully to a stand of palm trees and several other sturdy land objects. The wind was nonexistent, the sky clear, the air warm. The rain had passed, and the ship in the distance was just disappearing beneath the waves, a last spark shooting into the air as the flames were extinguished by the water.
Aboard The Pearl, in the hammock that Elizabeth had argued for in the corner of the hold, Will pulled her closer. Despite the warmth of the other sailors in the room and the lack of wind leaking in through the boards, Elizabeth was shivering. His shirt was damp but she pressed her cheek to it, soaking up his warmth, his security, his heartbeat. She didn't even notice he was there.
She was back on the sinking ship, watching as the cannons were readied and The Pearl drew even with the other galley. There was a horrendous crack as the first shot was fired, and it was of little importance as to who had fired it, only that it had been deafening.
She was sloughing skin from muscle, and muscle from bone, and bone from other bones. She barely batted an eyelash as sighs left cracking lips and blood wrote words across her hands.
It was a particular step of her left foot that brought her face to face with a much younger man- or boy, she considered him after a moment. His sword was before him and nearly at her throat but upon seeing her he stopped. His blade had grazed her skin and she noted absent-mindedly how close she had come to running herself through on his sword. She too paused, staring with equal surprise into the child's eyes as he stared into hers. His eyes dropped with confusion to her full lips, the feminine but hard angle of her jaw, and his grimace relaxed into an almost smile.
He reminded her so much of the boy she had found in the water when she was twelve, sea-soaked and panting, his hair grown long around his face. And that smile...
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw someone rushing towards her with pistol and sword drawn.
"You look like my mo—" he began in wonderment.
His hesitation was all she needed, and as she turned to defend herself from the next attacker she couldn't ignore the dull thud of the body hitting wood behind her.
Will pulled her closer. He would pretend that he hadn't been watching out for her throughout the entire battle and that he hadn't seen the boy's lips move silently before her sword was stealing the last word from his tongue. Had Will himself not hesitated to watch, he might have taken the boy's entire sentence and left her with fewer flecks of blood behind her closed eyelids. Instead they fluttered and opened, and closed again.
The ship rocked quietly, the crew snored. It mattered not a thing to them, the lives they had taken that day.