A/N; I just saw Pirates 3 with my friend, and I got this idea…
Disclaimer; I do not own the rights to Pirates of the Caribbean, nor am I making any profit from this work of fanfiction.
Queen
It isn't often they meet. In fact, it's only once every ten years. Each time, though their appearances differ greatly from the time before, they both know just who the other is and will always be.
On the sandy shores of that island, that tiny space where they love, they share everything, because they cannot touch enough. The hunger for each other is evident in the very way they breathe, and it is all they can do not to devour each other alive.
Eventually, when all is done, there is much to be said, and, body flush against body, they begin their tales.
Eventually, though, the sun begins to dip low into the horizon, and she bites her lip to keep from pleading. He has a responsibility to his crew, to his ship, and to the souls ferried to the world beyond.
But she does take his hand in hers and brings it to her heart, and gives him a smile. Not the one she's been perfecting in her mirror (that grungy old thing) for the past ten years, but instead, the one that becomes immediately painted on her face when she feels his warmth by her side.
"I am still King of the Brethren," she says nonchalantly. He grins, placing a row of delicate kisses along her collarbone.
"Oh?"
"Yes," she confirms, and wraps her thin arms around his waist. "And I've been thinking… What's a king without a queen?"
"Ah…" He laughs, "Do not drag me into those waters, Elizabeth."
"Listen to me!" she pouts, and traces her long fingers along his back. "Wouldn't you love," she laid her head on his shoulder, "to be my queen?"
He smiled ruefully at her attempts to persuade him. "I don't think…"
She tilted her head up towards his face and gave him her frightful I'm-a-g'damn-pirate-king-and-you're-going-to-heed-me-and-my-every-whim-or-so-help-me-I'll-do-something-frightful, savvy? glare. He laughed nervously. "What I meant to say was, I'd absolutely love to be your… er…"
"Queen," she said cheerfully, standing on her tip-toes and claiming his lips.
- -
"William? Are you alright?"
Will Turner senior placed a gentle hand on his son's shoulder. Heaven help him console this poor soul after leaving his beloved once again. But the man was surprised when his son turned to him, tears of, not sorrow, but mirth streaking down his cheeks.
"I've been dubbed Queen of the Brethren, Father," he chuckled. William senior smiled, patted the younger man on the shoulders, and made his way back to his own quarters.
Nay, nay. Heaven help him keep his son's sanity, not console his soul.
- Fin -
If I got any inside info wrong… sue me. I just write for my own amusement.
-Bya-chan