It was a beautiful day. That was impossible to deny. But it certainly didn't feel like a beautiful day to Elizabeth Turner. Though the sun was golden in a clear blue sky and the ocean glittered brightly, she couldn't feel joyful. Even the healthy, happy baby resting in his cradle at her feet outside the small cottage didn't bring a smile to her face.
Being the Pirate King here on this tiny island was a strange thing. Through the Fort was only a mile or two away, she had had her little home built out here, not far from the cliffs overlooking the beach where she had last caught sight of his face, last touched his flesh, last known him as a woman knew a man. Last and first time.
She could have lived in the Fort. The first Pirate King had, she had learned. But the giant place built of wrecks reminded her of the ships, the nights she had spent on the sea. The Pearl, the Edinburgh Trader, the Hai Peng, the Empress… Nights spent with Will, with Gibbs, with Barbossa, with Tia Dalma… Calypso… with Jack.
So here she was, sitting before a small cottage, rocking her young child, waiting, looking out over the cliffs and beach to the ocean. It wasn't only her husband she waited for, though she couldn't help but keep an eye on the horizon for him. She knew he wouldn't return for another nine years. But she also awaited the ships which would sometimes sail into the harbor at the Fort, carrying news of her "empire" or seeking refuge.
And she awaited the rascal she knew in her heart she'd see again, show off her handsome boy to, laugh and fight with, and hungrily listen to as he told her his fantastic mix of truth and lies. She awaited Jack. She kept her eye on the horizon for him too.