Elizabeth had only known Will for four years, but to her it was a lifetime. Before Will, Elizabeth had but one ongoing anticipation: she was to marry a fine man – a Commodore or an Admiral, perhaps – and live a luxurious and high-class life. It was, though, a dim light compared to the adversity she had faced. She had been made to leave her home, her friends, her mother's sepulcher, and most everything she had ever known until the age of twelve. Furthermore, she loathed the level of straitlacedness she was coerced to maintain. She could never be herself around others, and nobody seemed to care who she truly was inside. As a result, she expressed herself only through debating and discussing public affairs. The only time she got to be herself was when she wrote in her diary.
After dinner was cleaned up, the maids and butlers would revert to their own homes. The Governor would see his daughter to bed before retiring himself. Sometimes, the Governor would not go to bed immediately and Elizabeth would have to dissemble sleep, but she always succeeded in her pretense. Once her father began snoring, she would sneak out of her room, making sure to take her key and lock her door behind her. Hanging the key around her neck, she slipped down the back stairs and out the back door. Noiselessly, she would travel down to the halcyon beach against the pier to think. Four years from the first time she had engaged in this feat, Elizabeth prepared for a routine visit to her favorite spot. She had not been in nigh a month, and her father had since learned to pick the lock on her door. This time, she ventured to leave a note in case the Governor discovered her absence. Her father was sound asleep in the master bedroom when she left the house, but Elizabeth failed to notice the breeze aggrandizing by the minute. Even if she had, she probably would not have changed her plans anyway. Now, this was too sacred a custom; she could not possibly skip it on its fourth anniversary!
Elizabeth thought about many things as she lowered herself onto the cool sand. Leaning against the soft wood of the pier, she remembered that evening on that boat and that ship with those black sails. She lost herself in the memory of those big, brown eyes and the beautiful hair of the little boy she chanced to spot beside her ship. Before she knew it, slumber had taken advantage of Elizabeth, pulling her from conscious thought for a little while. She didn't know that the clouds thickened above her and the air around her grew cold, or that a single soul was aware of her excursion.
Will Turner buttoned his jacket and double-checked his master's blacksmith shop. He had wrapped up his work for the day and just finished cleaning up after himself and his master, Mr. Brown. As he did late every Friday night, he quietly left the quaint building he called "home" to spend some time at the docks. Being the end of the work week, Fridays were the perfect time for the boy to sort out his thoughts and feelings in the fresh night air. On his short walk to the docks, Will thought about his week. Only a few days ago had marked four years from his arrival in Port Royal. He remembered the first time he had gazed upon Elizabeth's angelic face. In his weakness, he had, in fact, believed at first that he had passed from mortal life into Heaven; but when he re-awoke to the sight of Joshamee Gibbs, the boy knew that he was still very much alive. Of course, the attainment of his first true best friend and a life of his own came at a cost. He had lost his mother and had never known his father. He did not know of his true stock or if his father was even still alive. That fateful day, he had been searching for the man his mother loved, and his questions were still unanswered; his father still unaccounted for. Perhaps one day Will would discover who – and what – he was destined to become…
As he neared the far end of the docks, he spotted a girl lying on the ground. It was nearly unheard of for a girl to be out after ten in the evening, but something seemed familiar about her; her size, her hair and her dress being played with by the growing wind. When he was close enough to make out the likeness of her face, he recognized her with a gasp.
The sharp-featured young blacksmith stood in her front hall, delivering a sword the Governor had ordered for unknown reasons. Will smiled a little more when he saw his friend descend the main stairwell. He handed the sword carefully to the Governor and bid him a good day. From her perch on the bottom step, Elizabeth accepted his farewell to her. She requested he call her by her first name, but for the sake of propriety he chose not to. She fought off a giggle at his stubbornness as he turned to leave.
When the butler opened the door, though, Elizabeth was struck by a wave of terror. From the other side of the doorway, a dark nothingness reached in towards Will. He could not react before the mysterious appendage sucked him into a black hole. Elizabeth threw herself toward the place in which her friend had disappeared, but she only crashed onto the cold, hard ground. Realizing that she may never see that sweet young man again, she began to sob – in this dream, and in reality.
Hurriedly, Will approached Elizabeth, worried to find her in such a curious state of tears. It took him a few moments to discern that she was not awake. Concern flooded his heart and quickened his steps until he had knelt down beside her in the moonlight.
"Elizabeth," he called softly as he placed his hand lightly on her shoulder. She shifted, changing positions and revealing to Will that she was asleep.
Elizabeth was drawn from observable dream, but she didn't awaken right away. For several long moments, she hung in a void, listening to the reverberation of Will's transient voice speaking her name. After a short, but excruciating, time in a subconscious limbo, she opened her eyes, still crying. Her vision was blurred in distorted by the moisture unshed, but she knew the touch that assisted her to sit up; the voice that assuaged her so easily.
"Elizabeth, are you alright?" Will asked her as she looked up at him with undeterminable emotion. He tried unsuccessfully to read her expression. She did not answer, but fell into his unsuspecting arms, wrapping her own around him. Unsurely, he cradled her, afraid that it may not be appropriate to encourage such behavior. All she could say was, "Oh, Will!" as she embraced him desperately.
"What's wrong? What is it?" He carefully lifted her away from him to look her in the eyes.
"A dream; it was just a dream," she stated. She would not have said anything more, but Will inquired as to the nature of the dream. "You were at my house," she explained through tears, "and when you left, a black hole took you and I couldn't follow you and I…" Lost for words to express herself, Elizabeth simply sobbed, "Oh, Will! I couldn't lose you! I just couldn't! You're my best and truest friend and I don't know how I could live without you after four long years! Please, don't leave me!"
"I'm not going anywhere, Elizabeth," he assured her. "Please don't cry. It was just a dream. The day I get sucked into a black hole will be the day pigs sprout wings and fly!"
Elizabeth smiled – and even chuckled – at the prospect of aerial swine. Her tears and sorrow diminishing, she allowed Will to wipe her face dry carefully with his kerchief. He usually used it to dry his hands and face after washing them, but she enjoyed the soft and gossamer feel of it – as well as the smell. The aroma was a mixture of the smell of the shop and Will's own scent. She handed it back to him, thanking him humbly for his compassion. "I suppose I should be getting home; it's starting to rain," Elizabeth frowned as a raindrop grazed her cheek.
Will had little desire to part from Elizabeth, but he knew that he needed to draw a line somewhere. Besides, the storm clouds threatened to pounce at any moment, obliterating its vulnerable prey. He nodded and offered to walk her home.
"Thank you, but no. If anybody were to see us together – especially my father – they may think that I came out just to see you. I don't want people making wrong assumptions, Will." Elizabeth sighed. "It's just one of the consequences of being the Governor's 'perfect little daughter.'" The last three words she spat out in a whiny, mocking tone.
You are perfect, Will thought, but dared not say aloud. "Well, I personally enjoy being friends with Elizabeth Swann, as well as the Governor's daughter," Will nodded. He looked to the dark offing then, but could not see the end of the storm swiftly invading their town.
"Thank you, Will. I hope to see you again soon." The two young adults rose to depart. Her companion nodded again and they parted ways. The rain came pouring down in thick sheets now, and fog blanketed the ground and danced slowly in the thick, humid air. The dim light provided by the moon caught in the fog, lessening the visibility all the more.
Back in the shop, Will hung up his coat and let his hair down in front of a homely fire. He sat on his stool and held his hands out towards the warmth. After a few minutes, he realized how hungry he was. No sooner had he put on a pot of soup than came a knock at the shop door. Will opened the door to a soaked and shivering Elizabeth. Unquestioningly, he invited her in.
"I couldn't even see the road! I'm sorry, but there's no way I could find my way home. Do you mind if I stay here until the fog lifts?" Elizabeth asked politely.
"Of course you can," Will smiled, seating Elizabeth on a second stool. He took a blanket and wrapped it snugly around her. Before long, two friends sat before a fire in a blacksmith ship, slurping down soup and listening to the rumble of thunder, their hearts beating as one.