-1Part I
Elizabeth looked out at the great wide sea, standing at the edge of the cliff hanging over the beach of Port Royal. The surf whispered and washed over the sand, the gentle ebb and flow rewriting its patterns with every wave. The sea held the power to change everything in its path, she observed. The sand, the rocks, and all those who dared sail upon her. She certainly couldn't say she would ever be the same again.
The wind whispered through her golden locks, tearing small ringlets free from her intricate coif. Her white skirt also stirred with the wind, volumous and uncomfortable. Suitable for a wedding, but little else. The corsets were not the only item that intended to restrict her, by the end of the day. A ring on her finger also promised of such horrors to come.
Come to me the waves and the salty breeze seemed to whisper. She felt as though she could feel their physical pull, an irresistible gravity. However, for as much as she loved the sea and all its promises, she couldn't blame her restlessness entirely upon the briny waves. A certain pair of smoldering black eyes also claimed hold of her, visiting her thoughts and dreams relentlessly.
What was it he'd said as they parted for the last time? The sea will call you, love. It's an invitation people like us can't resist. As Will walked down the gangplank of the Pearl onto the Port Royal dock, Jack took her hand in his, brushing lips ever so gently across the back of her hand. It was a chaste touch that caused her heart to ache with a most acute longing. Longing for adventure, longing for him. Longing for a love that would burn her wildly from both ends.
She took a deep breath, fighting back a sob as she inhaled the sweet salt of the breeze. "Jack," she whispered into the wind.
"Well, well! Ain't you pretty as a poppet!" exclaimed a harsh voice.
Elizabeth turned to face the newcomer, much alarmed. He was a mangy old seadog, sabre drawn with a crooked-toothed grin. Once upon a time, she might have said something lady like. I beg your pardon, sir? But now, she only glanced around nervously, searching for something she might use as a weapon, cursing the fact that it was considered improper for women to carry the means to defend themselves.
Two more rough characters climbed over the hill, one towering a good six and a half feet tall, a blue bandana tied round his enormous skull. "Why, if it ain't the bride herself!" exclaimed one with a sneer. "She'll make a nice ransom, won't she lads?"
"Ransom, or a pretty piece of eight at the auction block in Tortuga," answered the other.
Elizabeth screamed, but her cries were only carried away into the wind.
I'm feeling like a pirate today, so I intend to hold the next chapter hostage for a suitable amount of reviews... Yarr. And to all those who already have the wonderful habit of leaving a bit of feedback, you have my undying gratitude! Thanks!