New story! FWEEE XD I'm making Will mean in this one. Sort of. At least from Liz's POV. Well, it is an angsty story ya know! Dont like it? Dont read it. Simple XP

Gone But Not Forgotten

Chapter One: Sour Memories

So this is the path you have chosen?" Elizabeth barely heard her father utter those words, for she was far too consumed by the depths of Will's piercing gaze transfixed upon her own, " After all, he is a blacksmith."

"No. He's a pirate." Elizabeth's breath hitched in her throat as the love her life, her William, leaned forward and finally kissed her. It was dizzying; a mark of the love the two harboured for each other that would never die.

Elizabeth's hand, the one that clutched Will's feather-brimmed hat, fell to her side as the warmth of his lips consumed her. Will's hand moved up to cup her cheek, and Elizabeth thought her legs would buckle under her. His palm was surprisingly gentle, even though it was rough from his work at the Smithy. More importantly, her cheek fit snugly in his palm, something that the two would never forget.

She thought the happiness would never die. She thought they would live forever in blissful delight, like the day at the fort where they had kissed for the first time. Oh how she was wrong.

"Pirate…" Elizabeth whispered bitterly into the sheer darkness of her room, rolling onto her stomach and burying her head in the soft pillow. Once again, the tears started falling. She didn't think they ever stopped, ever since he left over three years ago. That bloody bastard, for lack of a better term, had run off to become a part of Jack's crew. He apparently needed adventure, as he said in the note, and needed to find his place in the world.

Elizabeth's eyes stung painfully as she thought about him, but not as much as her heart throbbed every waking hour of the day. Liar. If he had asked Elizabeth to come with him, she would have gladly obliged. Because Elizabeth worshipped that man, that bloody man that was her husband, that man who stole her heart and ripped it to shreds. Every single night, Elizabeth cried herself to sleep thinking about Will; what he was doing at that moment, or if he was even alive. And that night was no exception. Elizabeth cried until her eyes burned, her sobs the only sounds coming from the otherwise silent house.

That was until the screams of an infant interrupted her distressed state. Elizabeth sniffed and wiped her eyes, rolling onto her back, her shoulders shaking with the effort of keeping her sobs contained. Sitting up, she reached for her robe and draped it over her shoulders before getting up and exiting her room.

"Oh Governor Swann sir, she's contractin', Elizabeth's contractin'!" Rose the maid shouted as she ran down to meet the Governor in the hallway. He had come home from a business trip a few days early to be with Elizabeth for the birth. Evidently, it hadn't been early enough, for as soon as he walked through the door he found out his daughter was in labor already.

"Take me to her!" He demanded, following Rose upstairs to his daughter's bedroom, his wig almost flying off his head.

Elizabeth was lying in her four-poster bed, propped up by a stack of pillows. Rose bustled around the room, dipping a cloth in cold water to ease Elizabeth's slight headache. She looked up when her father entered, a mixture of fear, excitement and gratitude shining in her eyes.

"I leave for a few days and come back to this debacle." He joked, trying to lighten the tense mood in the air.

Elizabeth winced and cried out as another contraction hit her, making Weatherby rush to her side, "My dear, what happened?" Clearly Weatherby couldn't remember his wife's own labor.

"It hurts father, it hurts…" She clutched at her stomach, breathing heavily in and out, as she willed the intense pain to go away for the umpteenth time that evening.

"They appear to be getting quicker, it's almost time now miss," Mary the midwife smiled and wiped Elizabeth's brow with another damp cloth to ease her perspiration. She then ushered Governor Swann out the room to prepare for the birth, much to his dismay. "It won't do the young lady any good with her father hovering over her like a hawk." She insisted.

Elizabeth was so frightened; she didn't want to do it alone. She wanted her husband there, holding her hand, comforting her while she took the step into motherhood. She was also intensely afraid that she wouldn't make it out of the birth alive. She had heard that there was a considerable risk to the woman at birth; after all, her own mother had died giving birth to her. Elizabeth knew she had to make it, for her child's sake. After all, there was no father, as much as she wished there was.

"Alright now, on the count of three, I want you to push. One, two…three!"

Elizabeth screamed as she pushed as hard as she could, again and again. The pain was almost unbearable, and she thought she'd surely pass out from the pressure. A mixture of sweat and tears dripped down her red cheeks as she collapsed backwards, not having any determination to continue.

"Will, Will…Will!" she cried out and started sobbing, Mary urging for her to start pushing once again.

"No, I can't, I can't do it. Will, please help me, please Will help me!" She screamed, thrashing her arms almost violently. Rose had to hold her down, "Come on now Elizabeth, you can do it, just one last push!"

Elizabeth screamed and pushed as hard as she could. It was definitely the hardest thing she ever had to do in her life. The cries of a newborn filled the air as Elizabeth collapsed back against the pillows, absolutely exhausted. She'd done it; she'd given birth. It was everything she had imagined it to be except for one thing; Will wasn't there to share the joy.

"Tis a healthy baby boy. Congratulations!" Mary chimed, holding the crying child and reaching for some surgical scissors, to cut the umbilical cord. Elizabeth gave a weak smile as the midwife handed over her son, now wrapped in some warm blankets. She had made it; she had made it and both she and her son was healthy.

"What be his name, miss?" Rose asked, smiling as Elizabeth cooed at the pink and wrinkled being in her arms, cradling him against her chest.

"Luke." she replied and kissed him on the forehead.

Luke was a name she and Will had agreed that was suitable when they were casually talking about baby names.

"Shhh Luke, please go to sleep!" Elizabeth rocked the now two-and-a-half year old Luke in her arms. He was acting up again, something he loved to do these days.

She couldn't deny it had been exceptionally hard without Will there to bring up their child. It also didn't help that her father wanted to marry her off to the next respectable suitor to walk through the door, which had irritated her to no end. She always politely declined; firmly believing her husband would be returning someday and everything would be back to normal…even after her father's firm believing that she could not bring up the boy by herself.

It had been a huge struggle raising a child with only her father for support. The first months or so was the worst, just settling into the whole routine of things. Sleep was lost, as she had to constantly wake at all hours of the night, to comfort Luke, or feed him, or change him. Just recently the bags under her eyes had just started to fade, as Luke was able to start sleeping through the night. This made things easier, but it was still hard in a sense. Especially when they went out. The townspeople would stare and whisper the most horrible and hurtful things, which made Elizabeth boil with rage.

"Na! Na, Na, NA!" Luke screamed defiantly and buried his head in her neck.

"You'll never grow up big and strong if you don't sleep." She looked down and saw he was sucking his thumb, "Right, you want a story, don't you?" She had to grin as he clapped his hands in excitement, nodding his head.

Little Luke was a stubborn one when it came to getting him off to bed, but tell him a story late at night and he usually fell right asleep within minutes. Elizabeth took comfort in that. She bundled him up in her lap and sat down in the rocking chair in the corner of his little bedroom, beginning to move her legs.

"All right, once upon a time, there was a man called William Turner. He was just a blacksmith, a good respectable man who obeyed the law, but one day he had to turn Pirate to rescue a beautiful princess. He had a little secret; he was madly in love with that princess, and once he rescued her, they married. He couldn't stop his fascination with sailing and the ocean, so one day, when the princess was sleeping, he ran away!" Elizabeth smiled at her son, who was hanging on her every word.

"The princess was very upset, but waited for him to return, because she still loved him very much. After a while he did come back, and they had two sons and two daughters. And they lived happily ever after."

Elizabeth stared out the window for a moment before she kissed the sleepy Luke on the forehead and put him down in his bed, "Sleep well, Luke." She pulled the covers up to his waist and sighed, walking out of his room to her own, shutting the door behind her.

Every single time she told that story, which was a lot because it was his favourite kind, she never got a wink of sleep afterwards. Instead, she lay awake, staring out of the window into nothingness, occasionally stepping out on her balcony to watch the ebb and flow of the tide and the moon.

Perhaps she was waiting for him to return, perhaps she really believed that saying he returned in the story would make him return in reality. Regardless, he was a ghost that haunted her. The nights were the worst; she found herself yearning for him worse than ever, because she felt so incredibly lonely without him.

She writhed and ached to feel his body next to hers, to lean into the warmth his chest provided. She longed to feel his arms around her, his lips leaving no soft corner or crevice of her body untouched. Her stomach jolted and she moaned, remembering how they used to join, pressing their sweaty bodies tightly together, each craving to reach a place only the other could provide…

Elizabeth groaned and shook herself out of the reverie. She sighed and wandered out to her balcony, pulling her robe tighter around her as the wind whipped at her face. How could you do this to me, Will, how could you? That was a perpetual question that never left her head, no matter how hard she tried.

She started sobbing again, burying her head in her hands as she leaned against the balustrade of the balcony. The sobs turned to almost violent shuddering as she attempted to gain control of her body once again.

A twig snapped which startled Elizabeth. She sniffed and peered out over the balcony into the yard, almost curiously, as she squinted in the darkness. A dark blob seemed to dart from behind a tree and run to her gate. She frowned as it jumped over and slinked into the yard, disappearing under her balcony, out of sight. She then heard the front door creak open and close again.

You imbecile, how could you forget to lock it? She gasped, fear gripping her. There was an intruder in her home and she was a woman with a young child…what was she to do? Without a second thought she ran from the balcony to fetch the sword Will had crafted, situated on the wall on a plaque. Luckily, Will had given her a few lessons on how to wield a sword, so she was fairly confident she could at least intimidate the intruder, even if she didn't need to actually use the weapon.

After all, a woman with a sword was a scary sight.

There! How was it?