The Lovely Years

by elizabethswannrox

It's a story about a young Will and Elizabeth around when they first met, this is really their first actual encounter as far as really spending time with each other. ENJOY PLEASE! Review, please, I would SO appreciate it.

It's a story about a young Will and Elizabeth around when they first met, this is really their first actual encounter as far as really spending time with each other. ENJOY PLEASE!

The sun couldn't be any higher, and the weather more perfect. The beach couldn't be more empty and filled with sticks to use as swords and daggers. And here I am, surrounded by talk and people, and I couldn't be more bored or alone.

Elizabeth looked out the window of her mansion atop the hill. A beautiful sight to behold, but its beauty was slightly lessened by the forbiddeness of it all, and yet made all the more enticing…

"Father," she looked up innocently with her widened brown eyes, a silent way of begging she hoped he couldn't refuse "I have a few studies to catch up on. I would hate to miss this lovely tea, but I think it best I go catch myself up." Hoping to sweeten the deal a bit, she shot him a hopefully well-concealed mischievous smile.

Governor Swann had known his daughter for all 12 years of her being, and he wasn't one to be fooled by false engagements or claims of studying. He knew her better. However, he also cared enough to realize that an aristocratic high tea probably wasn't the most desired of places to be in her mind, and so he complied with whatever it was she would be 'studying'. After all, she couldn't get into much mischief in their home, and the door was in his plain sight.

Thankful for the pardoning, she quickly scooted out of her chair and politely, yet hurriedly, curtsied at the guests, who smiled at her (she thought) more out of spite and amusement rather than any sort of adoration. Quick as she could, while still trying to feign elegance, she rustled up the stairs into her bedroom. Her maid was inside putting away several of the young girls garments, when Elizabeth ran in. They smiled at each other, and the girl curtsied to her young mistress. Elizabeth ran to her, ignoring any sort of custom or courtesy.

"Estrella," her voice seemed to drip with the excitement leaking from the plans already formulating in her brain "May I have that frock my father bade you to throw away? The one I told you to hide under my bed? I'm sure he'll find it soon, but it's so comfortable, and I'd like to get one last good wear out of it."

Hesitantly, Estrella walked toward the stash of things Elizabeth had hidden since the short time she had lived in the estate. Smiling, though, at Elizabeth's excitement and wonder, which, in turn, made HER wonder what exactly went on in that beautiful head of golden-brown curls. The dress was to short, and looked almost more like a servant's gown than anything. Elizabeth didn't care. It was comfortable, and that was more than she could say about anything that she was forced to wear over the past few years. Her father loved to see her dressed in the height of fashion, while Elizabeth would sometimes rather see the dresses at the bottom of the ocean.

Estrella helped her mistress into the frock, and, just as she offered to leave the room, Elizabeth grabbed her arm. "No, wait. May I use your cloak? The simple black one?"

"You 'spectin ter go ouside, miss? I'm sure your Da'd rather ya stay in here… besides it's mighty ho-"

"Please, Estrella, I promise you I will be safe. Yes, I'm going outside, but, please, promise not to tell, swear on it. I will be back before dark, even before 3 hours is out. I need to get outside, I hate being cooped up in this place, no matter how large it is. Walls are walls."

Estrella understood, and, though she knew there may later be consequences, she had no intention of turning down a request that seemed to be so truly backed up by real need. Children, even older ones, needed plenty of air and sunshine. She handed her the cloak with a caring hand.

"Oh yes, and one more thing. May I follow you to the kitchen? I hear there's a servant's entrance and exit down there, and I think I've seen you going in and out. Please show me where it is, I'll never ask again." Because then I can simply find it myself.

Estrella nodded, and bade Elizabeth follow her quietly and discreetly, which she did with an excitement in her step that proved hard (yet not impossible) to conceal. Once at the door, she thanked Estrella with immense gratitude, and burst out like a cannonball. She had only lived here around a month, so she hadn't had much time to get to know the streets, especially as they were taken every which way by carriage, and only through the nicest parts of Port Royal (which were few and far between). Yet, from her window, she could see where all of the town shops were, and had tried to remember as much of the roads' twists and turns as possible. There was one path in particular she held in her heart and had memorized in her mind. The road to the Blacksmith's Shop.

After docking at Port Royal Will Turner, the boy she had herself fished from the sea (Well, I spotted him, that's just as good as fetching him myself) had been given as an apprentice to the blacksmith, James Brown. It was well the man was given one, too, for, though very skilled, he was also very drunk, very often. She had heard conversations of Will's quick progress, and she hung on every one of them. She had no friends here, and, from the moment she met Will, though he was soaking wet and cold, she felt a warmth and comfortableness about him she had never felt before. She had decided upon the opening of his deep brown eyes, that she liked him very much. However, there were apparently many things that were inappropriate for a Governor's daughter to do, which included being friends with a black smith. Her calling was itchy lace, and his hot iron.

She didn't care one bit, and this was the first chance she had been handed by fate to make her own friends, no matter the repercussions. After being forced to ignore him at ceremonies, she was looking forward to showing him how quite she REALLY was. Or, rather, wasn't.

Finally, she spotted the door she had been looking for, not even realizing until now just how out of breath she was. She took a moment to compose herself and smiled as she realized her dress now had a tear, and her curls, now windblown, where all disheveled. This wasn't at all proper. Wonderful. The thought had not even the slightest etch of sarcasm. If anything, it was ripe with satisfaction. She skipped to the door and knocked, at first once, then twice, then many times (very fast) as if it where some game of her making.

"Well, for goodness sakes, Willy, open the door, it could be the Governor, all you know," a very slightly composed voice rang from within.

The door opened for her, and her face lit up with a smile upon seeing the boy standing in the entrance. Unfortunately, it immediately melted in to worry when she realized that his eyes seemed cold, and slightly agitated. In fact, it seemed it wasn't until he recognized the girl at the door as her that his face became so somber. She felt a slight pain in her chest, wondering how, and if, she had slighted him. She raked her brain for any possibility. Does he know I took the necklace? That must be it… she thought as she recalled the pirate medallion which she had taken from around his neck on the day he was rescued. It now lay tucked away in a secret drawer. She had since heard his story from town gossips and people the word had gotten to around Port Royal, and now knew he was not at all a pirate boy. Still, though, she didn't have the heart or courage yet to admit she had taken it. Though she was normally unafraid to speak her mind, something about this boy made her afraid to do anything that may push him away. And now it seemed she had done just that.

"No it's his daughter," and he slammed the door in her face.

Rude!She pouted, What in the world has gotten into his head slamming doors in a girl's face? Is that what they teach boys in England… she tried to stay angry, but she was unwillingly forced to admit that who she was truly upset with was herself. In a way, she had been responsible for this; she had slammed that door in her own face.

"Well, open it up then, Turner, you don't just shut up a door in the face of a young lady. You'll never get a girl that way, boyo, let me tell you that," The man spoke as if he had any experience in a department so far out of his own reach. "'Sides, her Daddy's one o' my best costumers. No, no, open that door up, and with a smile! Come now, learnin' trick o' the trade's more than just 'bout metal work. Gotta keep the customers satisfied."

Will reluctantly sauntered back over to the door, which seemed heavier than it had when he had opened it for others in the past. Elizabeth sent him a flashing, yet quick, smile his way as if nothing had happened. He was almost offended that she had brushed off his glares so quickly.

"Hello, Mr. Brown. My father has sent me to fetch Will. He wishes to make a special order, and is unable to come himself. He bade one of you come to our home, specifically your apprentice so you wouldn't have to make the trip. He'll be back in around two hours. My father wished to talk to him a bit more about his progress and such." She said this in such a way it almost seemed rehearsed, which, little to the knowledge of any one but her and a hunch in Will, it had been. A few times, in fact. She had been planning this little rendezvous for around a week now.

"What ya waiting for then, boy, go on. Be back 'fore dark, if ya can. Wanted you to help fill an order." The tipsy man waved at his apprentice to step out of the shop.

Will stared for a moment at Elizabeth, unable to read her expression, or what was behind it. "Fine," he huffed in unwilling agreement.

"Come on," Elizabeth smiled his way, gesturing for him to follow her. Will looked her up and down, with slight wonder as to what she was wearing. He knew very little of fashion, but just enough to know that this wasn't the sort of thing the wealthy, or even middle-class, where sporting this season, or any other season for that matter. There was something mysterious about this girl, which, he thought, could be a wonderful quality. However, he wasn't in any sort of a mood to acknowledge her attributes at the moment. Right now, he saw her as a snob. A rich, better-than-you-so-I-won't-talk-to-you-even-when-you-try-to-talk-to-me-all-afternoon snob.

However, he followed her down the path and to the left toward the Governor's mansion. Except-

"Is your home not to the right?" he asked as he realized they were going quite the opposite direction as he had always known. There was nothing this way but a few small businesses and the beach.

She gave a laugh, filled with amusement at his obliviousness, "Oh, no, we aren't going THERE. I couldn't stand to be in the place another second," she said as she led him down the path she had kept watch over from her window, now finally under her feet.

Will was thoroughly confused, and even more so when she excitedly grabbed his forearm and ran him down to the docks near the beach, where the water was in view. She took them to a more secluded area, and he felt nothing but confusion and the color appearing in his cheeks. Once she was satisfied with her location discovery, she began walking around on an elevated board, like a balance beam; and Will, sighing with what could have been annoyance, stood under the limited shade offered by a nearby palm tree.

"I hate it there. It's nothing but terribly uncomfortable clothing, teas and ceremonies, and people so dull and boring it would make you fall asleep just hearing them speak. Not only that, but their noses are so upturned that you'd think they should need to come down for air occasionally. They just walk around like this, thinking their better than anyone else, just because they have nice shoes or a bundle of money," She imitated an aristocratic woman by walking with her hands flared out at her sides, taking short, uppity little steps, and sticking her nose dramatically high in the air, which wavered her balance on the wooden beam she had been mounting, landing her square on her rump, and sending her into a small, amused fit of laughter at herself.

"Sounds like you're describing yourself," Will muttered under his breath.

"What did you say?" Elizabeth inquired, looking concerned. He simply waved it off and pretended to be very interested in the bark of the tree he stood against. The mask of a smile Elizabeth had hoped would melt his unusually icy demeanor slipped off, unable to stay affixed any longer.

"Will, please, tell me what you said, your acting so… boorish," she fumbled out.

"Fine, I said it sounded a lot like you where describing yourself," he remarked, coldly.

Elizabeth felt a shiver down her spine. This was ridiculous. "Myself? What in the world do you mean? Will, what did I ever did to you, tell me what it is, I'll make up for it. I've never had a single friend that wasn't around just because their fathers or mothers came for a business meeting. When I met you I thought…" She trailed off, stopping before she could further humiliate herself in front of someone she suddenly felt so self-conscious around.

This caught Will's attention. "Thought what?" She looked up at him and acted like she either didn't know or didn't want to answer. "What did you think; you didn't finish your sentence. Thought what?" He implored.

"Well, I thought… well when I looked at you… I thought there was something there. I felt something when I met you, I don't know how to- I don't know I just thought we maybe had something. That maybe I had a friend somewhere," He managed to squeeze out of her.

"I thought so to," he said, almost sounding upset.

"Well, then what made you change your mind? I know you felt it too, William Turner, why in the world won't you look at me. You act like I kicked you straight in the face," she threw her arms in the air, completely exasperated.

"Well it's hard to believe you feel the way you say," Will pushed, as he began letting the thoughts fogging his mind for the past two weeks leak out in his words, "The first time I saw you since the day we met was at that ceremony of your father's. Mr. Brown had business matter to discuss, and he wouldn't leave me alone at the shop. I saw you, and the second our eyes met you turned yours away like I was some stranger. I went to stand next to you, to speak to you. I spoke right to you and my words may as well have been wind because you turned up your nose just like those women you claim to hate so much, but have apparently been taking lessons from, and proceeded to look straight ahead of you like nothing had even happened. You must have tried very hard not to notice me, or maybe it wasn't difficult at all."

"Well if we had been given the chance to-"

"I was standing directly next to you the entire time!" He was filled with anger and sadness now, and decided it would be best just to walk away before he said anything regrettable. "I should really get back…"

"Will, please, listen to me," she said, grabbing his hand as he turned to leave. As she did so, she felt something that he must have too, because they looked up at each other simultaneously in that moment. She let go, nervously, but something about the little touch prompted the boy to stay and listen. "I so wanted to speak to you! I knew you were there the entire time; it was all I could think and all I could do NOT to do anything about it. I tried to show you I knew you were there, but there wasn't much I could do. Just the week before my father talked to me about how he noticed how much we spoke and laughed during the journey here, and he warned me you weren't the kind of company I should have. Lieutenant Norrington, especially, was adamant about it, which swayed my father's opinion even more greatly, since he trusts his council."

"Ah, we wouldn't want a reputation-"

"No, that's not it at all Will, listen, will you?" she smiled reassuringly at him "I told him I would like to see them keep me away from being with you. I told them I had found a friend and I wouldn't let them stop that. Father told me if he so much as saw me smile at you the next time we were together, he would give me two servants, permanently. There would be the one which I already have, and another added to watch and follow me where ever I went. He also said he would be sure to have his meetings with Mr. Brown in private. That would mean I would never see you."

Will was slightly taken a back and unsure as to how he felt about this. On the one hand, he had been decidedly angry at her for the past fortnight, and he found the anger a bit hard to shake off. However, the more he looked at her hopeful face, the more it began to fade. Still, though, he was weary of getting hurt by her again, this girl whom he found had a bit more power over his emotions than he would like to admit to himself, or to her, especially.

"Please, Will. I promise. I swear I wouldn't dream of stopping my speaking with you, why do you think I came all the way out here?"

"Right. Alright then, I suppose," he said, still trying to thaw out, "But either way I'm not sure this is the best idea. I mean, if they found us together, especially you looking how you do now, I'm not so sure anything good would come of it. I just don't know…"

"Will. Trust me. I care for you; you're my friend … Come on and play pirates with me. Let's go down to the beach."

"Pirates? I'm not so sure-"

The next second he had a stick at his throat, wielded by an unwavering hand "Please do, or I'm afraid I will have to stab you with this dagger."

"That's not a dagger."

"Yes it is," she insisted

"No, this is a dagger," He pulled a very small dagger out of his belt, and handed it to her. Her eyes glowed with wonder and delight at the real weapon in her hands. It wasn't wonderfully crafted, but she knew no difference. It was beautiful. "Keep it, I have dozens more. That's one of the first I made so the craftsman ship is a bit shoddy, anyhow." He played it off as a small gesture, when he really felt it may be the least he could do for yelling at her so harshly moments before. It hadn't been just one of his first; it had been his VERY first, and he had intended on keeping it for a very long time. It meant something special to him.

"Oh, thank you, Will!" She wrapped for arms around him, nearly knocking him over with the force.

He smiled as he felt his face color, as it had earlier. However, he was beginning to realize the effect she had on him was different than any he had known before. Not only that, but he still wasn't sure how he felt about being ignored so harshly, explanation or not. He just needed time to compose himself.

"I think I should really head back. I'm sorry but I… I think I should go," he said to Elizabeth, hoping not to sound and icy as earlier. She thawed him, and he hoped he could show that, but at the same time she made him want to keep his guard. He simply couldn't figure her out. And, little beknownst to him, she felt quite the same way.

"Right, I suppose your right. Well, I'm sure it would have been a childish game anyhow. I'm not quite in my right mind; I'm a bit muddled at the moment. Well, perhaps I'll see you again, then," she smiled cordially and nodded politely as he waved and turned, walking away down the path they had come.

Her tiny false smile quickly showed its true, skeptical frown the second he turned away. As quick as she could, she rushed to another part of the dock, near a patch of bushes. It lay even further from where she was now, and further from society than any responsible person would have liked. As she was running, something made Will turn around. He felt something that told him to follow, perhaps because, when he left her, he felt even more unpleasant, more confused, more brooding. Perhaps it was something else, he didn't know. He was learning to expect the unexpected when dealing with Elizabeth Swann. And, quickly but quietly, he ran after her.

As he approached closer, he saw her, caught up in her own world. Her mind was whirring, her hand clumsily wielding a long stick-sword with terrible skill, but every intention of winning the battle that only she, apparently, could see. Very amused, and trying even harder not to laugh, he hid behind a plant very close by. When he realized she was pretending to fight him, ("I will strike you down William Turner, unless you join my crew and come sail away with me, you dread pirate") he was even more amused. Then he realized something in him other than amusement and, while his laughing ceased, his smile became ever more present. The way she shone with determination was admirable and made his heart beat just that much faster, and the way she clumsily handled her imagined weapon was, to him, wonderfully cute. Any remaining anger faded, and was replaced, he found, with something quite the opposite. He knew it was his job to do the patching this time.

"Would you like me to teach you how to really use that thing?" he smiled, imploring Elizabeth as he stepped out of the bushes.

She was shocked, and quickly put the stick behind her back. She smiled embarrassedly and seemed to not have heard exactly what he said, as he had made her dazed completely.

He offered again, and, this time, she more than heard him. "Oh, would you really? Will, thank you so much that would be wonderful. Will, about what happened-"

"Please don't worry about it. Just come with me. We may as well start these lessons now; after all, you did come all the way out here. But it looks like people are starting to dock around here… Come with me, there's an alley I've never seen anyone so much as set a foot in behind the shop. We'll go there."

She walked eagerly behind him all the way to the place he had been talking about, the whole way thanking God for her fortune and for Will's change in heart, which had set hers aflutter. She was going to learn how to fight. Imagine it, a real sword in my hand and my own dagger all in the same day. My father would be furious, she laughed to herself.

"Wait here. I'm going to go in to the shop to get swords and things to practice with. Just wait for me right here," he told her, wanting to be sure she stayed safe and out of the way. He ran off down the alley way and around the corner.

"I'll wait for you forever, Will Turner," she half-whispered to herself as he disappeared out of her vision.

A half hour later, Elizabeth was still waiting and had taken to throwing rocks at invisible targets on the brick wall in front of her. She began to worry, which was, it's self, an odd sensation. She had never felt so concerned for anyone else before after her mother had died, save for once, when the same subject of today's fears was fished out of the water on a raft.

I wonder if he's been caught. They're punishing him for being seen with me. It was Norrington, I know it was, I just know it. No, they can't have caught him; they'd have come for me as well, taken me back to that large and dreadfully empty 'home'. No, no, Will must have forgotten I am here. Or, perhaps, he realized again how horrid I was to him. Or he felt so the whole time and coaxed me back here to wait for him for the rest of eternity and he's never coming back, all so he could teach me a lesson. Yes, that's it. Oh dear, I'm ridiculous…

Just then her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of clanging coming toward her. As she looked up, her fear faded once she realized the rackety tin-man advancing forward was no other than Mr. Turner himself, carrying an obviously heavy load of assorted weaponry.

"Sorry it took me so long, Mr. Brown took some convincing when I told him Governor Swann wanted to see the armory I had built up so far, and that he had asked me to bring it all to him by hand. Luckily he bought it, thanks to his brain practically floating in his skull by now. I was expecting to come back even sooner, he's usually already out cold this time of day. Hope you weren't too worried," he grinned at her.

"Oh no, not at all. Didn't even realize you had been gone so long," she sputtered, which obviously hadn't sounded so convincing, as Will raised a very skeptical eyebrow at her. She rolled her eyes and walked over to the pile of swords, axes, and other such things.

"I thought you'd want to get some practice in with more than just swords. Wanted you to get the whole treatment, your highness," he said sarcastically, but layered with caring humor. She stuck her tongue out playfully at him, as he tied his shoulder-length brown hair back into a ponytail to prepare for the lessons about to take place.

"Alright, let's start with the swords," he handed her one he thought best weighted for her small frame. "Now this part is the hand guard and you stand just so in ready position, yes that's it. Alright now you start with a salute, yes. Now, remember to try to position yourself so your chest is facing away from the opponent, presenting them with less of a target…"

They went on for at least an hour, never stopping once to take a break or an extra breath. She had potential, and, as a rather advanced beginner himself, it would have been a sight to see had anyone walked by. Elizabeth's mind was busy and working gears the whole time as she kept her eyes on her teacher's weapon, and the other on the teacher himself, who, ironically enough seemed to be the biggest distraction.

After the last axe had been thrown, and both of their arms where more sore than either had thought possible, they slumped together against the wall of the alleyway they sat in, both thoroughly pleased with themselves and the other.

"Will?"

"Yes?"

"Come play pirates with me on the beach. I can fight now, at least more than earlier this afternoon, and I would love to try it out. Please, I promise you'll love it," she excitedly begged of him, and the hopefulness that filled her voice was hard for him to do anything but comply to. Willingly, with a shade of fading reluctancey, he agreed to go with her.

Her eyes lit up. "Excellent. Come with me!" And before he had even managed to catch all his breath from their little lesson, she took it all away as she grabbed his hand and ran him full speed down the pathways of Port Royal. They were flying, and, unfortunately for Will, their velocity didn't slow down for things like trees, which he had been too distracted to look for.

By the time they arrived on the beach, he slumped right down on to the sand, looking a bit worse for the wear. Elizabeth gazed out at the ocean, marveling at the blue glimmer of the Caribbean waters. She became suddenly aware of her companion and had to try immensely hard not to laugh at his construed face, full if pricks from trees. She had to compose herself even more so as he coughed leaves and, oddly enough, a bird feather, out of his mouth and onto the white sands. She then smiled in caring adoration, as she realized the pricks in his face, humorous as they were at first, would be hurting him. And she didn't like that idea, she found, one bit. She leaned down and carefully plucked one out of his face.

"Thanks, I think I got the rest of them," he insisted as she sat next to him, waiting for his surgery to finish. After a minute and a few breaths or two, he remembered the reason for their wild ride. "So, pirates?"

"Yes! It's easy. I'm sure you've played things before, though, of course."

"Not much actually, you may have to train me. I spent so much time helping my mother as a young boy; I suppose I never really found the time. I guess that sounds a bit sad, a boy of 13 who never learned to play, but I never really had time to just be a child. I had plenty of time to worry about my father, and I'm sure he would have rather I spent my time more enjoyably." Will, though made a bit sullen by this confession, was also smiling gently to himself.

"Well then, Mr. Turner," Elizabeth said, boldly stepping in and lifting as much of Will's trouble as she could "I will teach you how. By the time I am done with you, you will be the most fearsome pirate in all of the Caribbean. People will remember your name! Well, actually not yours, per say, but whatever the name is of the person you wish to play as. And not so much the whole Caribbean… but I guarantee you I will never forget!" She beamed at him, with a reassurance that made him forget all the nerves he had, yet made new nerves flair up, though these ones a bit more pleasant.

"Alright, then," he sighed, "So how do we start?"

"Well, first things first, you have to look like a pirate," she noted, while he smiled to himself at the thought that, in what she was wearing, she wasn't too far off, and that, after that run, he wouldn't be too far off the mark of buccaneer either.

She first ripped a piece of fabric off of her sleeve, knowing full well this may be the last wear she got of it anyhow, and she may as well make the best of it. She then proceeded to tie it around her head, nodding as if she were satisfied with her work after. Then she stroked her chin with her fingers, looking Will up and down and regarding him as if he were a painting on auction. An idea then sparked in her head, and she bent down, ripping off the bottom of her already-tattered dress. It was quite short in the first place, and this new modification fixed it to just a few inches below her knees.

Will's eyes widened, and he nervously tried to look away to conceal the embarrassed (but somewhat pleased) smile on his face, and to stop his thoughts from being even more discombobulated by Elizabeth than was already in effect. Just as he was wondering if she had any idea what she did to him, she skipped over and turned him around so his back faced her. He felt her hands as she gently and expertly tied the ripped piece of cloth onto his head like a bandana. He shivered; thinking how unexpectedly pleasant this day had become, and hoped she didn't notice.

She was wonderfully pleased with her work as she looked him up and down, a satisfying sculpture. He made a rather dashing pirate. It's amazing,she thought, what a simple cloth bandana can do for ones appearance. He may have been born for this!

"You make an excellent pirate," she remarked, wholeheartedly.

"Thanks," he quipped, still a tad bit of kilter. "So, now what? Shouldn't we… pick characters or something like that?"

"Yes of course!" And as if this had set of some sort of fire in her brain, she began rattling off with such a passion and naturalness, anyone would adore her for. It was clear she had done this before. "I am the much adored Princess of the powerful country Zambania, which has grown in wealth because of its trade profits and political influences. Everyone knows me as the perfect image of a lady, but what they do not know is that I have a secret. A dark secret of piracy and an unquenchable love for the sea and the crew which I have managed to acquire, and have been having secret conventions with for the past 3 years of my life. I plan on leaving the kingdom as I Captain my ship, yet I have a slight care for the dear country and would love to see it left in good hands. However, my adventure and intrigue can sometimes be my downfall. I do not give in easily. I am Princess Andromedda and this," she gestured around her grandly, "is my kingdom." She smiled euphorically and placed her hands on her hips, looking to Will who, this whole time, she had been pacing circles around while she thought of this concoction of her imagination. He stood dizzy from trying to keeps his eyes on her, and completely intimidated, knowing he had to come up with something like that.

"Right… well I suppose let's start with the name. Well, if you're interested in pirates AT ALL then you'll have heard of Jack Sparrow? I think everyone's heard that name floating about somehow. Anyhow, I'll take that name, Jack. And the only real pirate thing I've ever really remembered from my childhood is from stories people tell in England. A lot of them are about a ship called the Black Pearl, and I know I heard there was a man named Bootstrap. It struck me as funny, I suppose, so I remembered it."

"So Bootstrap Jack then?"

"Or Jack Bootstrap?"

Elizabeth giggled with satisfaction, immensely enjoying watching her friend learn to do something that always came naturally to her. He looked a little ridiculous, but she could tell he was getting a bit excited, and sometimes a passion or love for something is all you need to become natural at it. She realized this must have been exactly how he had thought of her when she had been trying so hard to master the sword, a weapon which, she thought, seemed to have been crafted just for Will himself. He seemed connected to its blade, just as her ideas seemed to flow seamlessly out of her. They could learn from each other, and she liked that idea very much.

"Jack Bootstrap it is, then," and, as she saw him trying too hard to think of any sort of story for this comical character he had created, she jumped right up and rambled on with meaning and skill, which he was growing to admire greatly. He knew he could have done it, given time, but something about the way her eyes would shine with excitement every time a new thought would pop into her head, something about the way he could almost hear the gears of her brain working, he knew the best thing for him was just to listen, and take in every one of her words. Wanting to redeem this 'Jack Bootstrap' of his name, she decided he would be great, in fact, "He is a pirate prince. He sails from sea to sea, praying on ships he finds to be easily slid from the clutches of those holding onto them with slippery fingers. His goal? Well, it's no less than to have the largest fleet in history, each sailing under his colors. With great power comes a great price, however. It seems there is a hole in his heart which he feels deeply, and knows must be filled, but knows not with what. He has tried rum, and all a manner of other things, but the more ships he adds to his collection, the greater the crater in his soul becomes. There is only one thing that can fill it, but will he ever humble himself enough to even admit what that is? We'll just have to find out. You have come here in hopes that you may procure my ship, and do, in fact, begin to manage to do so. I do not trust you and will do anything I can in my power to see her wheel in my hands, and my hands only. In the meantime, you may have found more than you bargained for in having your eyes on my ship. And yes, that may mean that you have found that its Captain is what fills the hole."

Will was awe struck and grinning, shaking his head back and forth at both her boldness and her creativity. It seemed as if she was afraid of nothing, could take on anything, and yet he ironically felt an obligation to protect her. It was an odd sensation, but he was beginning to think he could easily get used to it. They had erased the lines of status with their mutual faith in their friendship. He wasn't a black smith and she wasn't the Governor's daughter, they were just Will and Elizabeth.

She began making her way down the beach, purposefully, toward a pile of drift wood which had assembled itself in such a way it almost looked like benches.

"Where are you going?" Will called after her. She was making him just as curious of a person as she was, and he welcomed it.

"To meet you at the bar, of course, to negotiate the return of my crew and to strike a bargain with you," she said, matter-of-factly, as if it where the most obvious and natural thing in the world.

"Of course," Will whispered to himself, "Now how could I not have known that." He ran, with a pleased half-smile on his face, past Elizabeth and to the driftwood pile of benches. Sitting down, he did everything he could to look like an importantly lavish pirate prince. Let the games begin.

Elizabeth strode into the invisible bar and acted as if it were so full of sailors that she had to search out the one she was looking for. When her eyes found his, she huffed and shot him a look of agitation. She marched over to a make-shift bench across from Will and sat down.

"Well then missy, how can I help you? Seems a rough night for a lady like yourself to be out and about. And in such a place as this-"

"Oh, shut it, Bootstrap, you know just what I'm here for. You've been acquiring my crew right from under my nose, left and right. You think I'm daft enough not to notice? Think again, 'Captain.'"

Will was beginning to see how seriously Elizabeth took these games of hers, and, if anything, her assuredness inspired him. He was determined to impress her, and, in the meantime, began enjoying it for himself more than he could ever have ever expected.

"Ah you mean those men there," he pointed behind him, bringing into existence a rag-tag crew of miscreants which, apparently, sailed under his command. He could get used to this. It was true, he hated pirates for what he assumed they had done to his Father, but this was a harmless, immensely enjoyable game.

"Yes, of course those men," she snapped as she crossed her arms agitatedly.

"That isn't your crew, lassie. Never has been, and, even if they had, never will be again."

"Don't give me that. I am sure that is my crew."

"Ah and how can you be so sure?"

"Because I know their faces. Especially those two," she pointed at two people apparently standing beside Will. "They were my lovers."

Will was momentarily taken a back. She was so bold and sure of everything she said. And with this particular declaration, her face was so serious and unwavering that he was filled with the urge to laugh harder than he could remember doing in so long, but he kept it in. He knew he had to keep in Elizabeth's world, now that he was in it. Breaking character now, he was sure, was not the thing to do. His character and himself were both beginning to really understand what she had said about a heart with ahole missing, and he now knew how to fill it. The answer for both of them was sitting directly across, with legs crossed and eyes that seemed to look straight into you, always anticipating what would come next.

He took a moment of thought for himself in that split second, though, loving every bit of her seriousness, which she seemed to give without effort and which she couldn't notice the humor in herself. She's really wonderful. Should I do something? It wouldn't be appropriate, if anything happened it could really risk whatever it is we have. Though I'm almost sure she feels this too. No, she'd be in loads of trouble, and I doubt I would get the best treatment in the world if anyone was to find out we were even friends, much less…. No. I'll just let this go on however it's going. Whatever's meant to happen will, even if that particular happening never can, as long as she's happy. I'll wait.

"Well then, Princess, I'll tell you what. You may have your lovers back. As for the rest? I am keeping them, and I would like to see you pry them from my hands."

"Oh you would, would you then? Well, that's just fine. Come, let's finish this outside."

"Elizabeth," Will whispered to her, completely oblivious and out of character "We are outside."

"No, Will," she whispered back, as if using her full voice would pop the bubble of reality surrounding the world they had made "In the game! We're in a bar, remember?" She laughed and rolled her eyes, rather amused at his blunder.

"Oh right," he nodded, feeling foolish.

"Name any time, any place, Bootstrap, and I will fight you for what is rightfully mine. In fact, meet me outside right this minute. Unless, of course, you are frightened."

"Of a girl? Of course not. I'll be there, missy."

Elizabeth stood up forcefully, shooting a last look at Will and giving a dramatic hair flip that, again, forced Will to try to keep a chuckle to himself. She stormed out of the place to what, he assumed, was to be the outside of the bar. She began fighting invisible things, as if preparing for the epic battle she expected to take place between them. He laughed as she got caught up in herself and completely forgot her form, even trying to flip forward, and landing straight on her back.

"Remember what I taught you! Footing, not flipping, alright?"

She nodded, brushing herself of as she shot him an "I-knew-that" sort of look. As she continued, it seemed she became completely unaware of everything around her, remembering each technique he had showed her. She was determined to ready herself for the fight, and he couldn't help smiling. He knew he should join her, that he shouldn't make her wait for much longer, but he first took a few moments to himself to watch her swift, determined figure slicing away at the air.

Then, his smile faded. Before he could say anything, before he could warn her, a man dressed in the uniform of the royal navy, one of title no less, advanced quickly down the beach and toward Elizabeth. Within a moment's notice, he was right by her side.

Elizabeth raised her 'sword' above her head to prepare to strike again when a firm hand caught hers in a grip that showed no slack. Her eyes grew wide as she dropped her wooden weapon in shock and fear. She was spun around to face her capturer, and her heart sunk as she found herself face to face with the pride of her father's military men. Lieutenant James Norrington.

"Well, well. Catching up on your lessons are we? I am so glad our education system has done you so well."

Elizabeth was speechless; she knew how this must look to him and how it would sound when he told her Father. Will sat with his mouth open, but without words, wary that anything he said could be used against him, and, more likely, Elizabeth.

"Get this ridiculous thing off of your head," Norrington grimaced, ripping Elizabeth's makeshift bandana from atop her hair. She flinched, as he took a few strands with it. He thrust it aside, tossing the despicable thing onto the sand near the flustered young blacksmith's feet.

Will had stayed silent up until now, but seeing the pained expression on the young girl's face filled him with a protective anger that he couldn't hold in. Something inside of him, something instinctual, needed to protect her.

"No! Don't you…" His momentary push of bravery could only be extended so far as the Lieutenant shot him a look that would have put any man in his place. He knew it would be best, in the end, to stay silent, no matter how difficult it was for him. "Apologies," he forced through gritted teeth.

"Don't think, even for a moment, that you can weasel your way out this time, Ms. Swann. You should know better company than a disheveled blacksmith's apprentice. Nothing good could possibly come of this. Let's go," he grabbed her forearm with an unnecessary force and began dragging her down the beach, towing her toward the path in town that would lead her back to the secluded mansion on the hill. With pleading eyes, she looked back at her friend, mouthing his name in desperation. Both were aware, though, that the power was far out of their reach, and it was all Will could do to stay put where he was.

He looked after her longingly, silently hoping for no harm to come to her. It hurt him to watch her being pulled behind a man who showed no sympathy. He watched her until she was out of sight, and even then he couldn't quite bring himself to leave. Something wouldn't let him, tethering him in place.

As Elizabeth wound her way through Port Royal's roads, she glared with hatred at the man gripping her skin. She hated him for ruining her game, she hated him for wanting her back in that stuffy place full of stuffy people, and she hated him for taking her from Will. As if he sensed the glaring young eyes in the back of his head, he looked back to return the heated gaze.

"I am sorry, but you must learn your place," he said with false sympathy."The governor's daughter can't be seen running about with someone like that. People would get the wrong idea, and we wouldn't want that, would we?"

"I don't care; Will is the nicest boy I've ever met. Perhaps even the nicest person. He cares about me, and I don't care what sorts of ideas other people have. They may have the right idea after all, if they believe that we are friends. I don't understand what's so wrong about any of it. It shouldn't matter how much money you have. The most miserable people seem to have more than they can count and the happiest sometimes have only enough to count on their fingers."

"He has filled your head with delusions, can't you tell? He is trying to corrupt you, being selfish. It's because of him you where running about on that beach in the first place. I've seen you there before. Your father said you were being unusually quiet in your room, but I had a hunch. It's a good thing I followed my accurate suspicions, too, or who knows what all could have happened. And what on earth are you wearing? You look like a little harlot, how you could even think to leave the house in something like that is beyond me. I assure you that garment will be disposed of once I get you back."

"No, you can't tell my father! If he knew I'd never-"

"Ms. Swann, he must hear about this."

She felt hot in the face; she couldn't even bring herself to imagine the possibilities. Suddenly, she felt anger rush through her, knowing she had to get away. It all happened in a blur, and she wasn't even sure what she would do once she was free, or even how it would help her. She only knew she couldn't stay in his grip any longer.

So she bit him.

Norrington was more shocked than injured, but either way his grip loosened for just a second. That second was all Elizabeth needed, and she jetted away from him with as much force as she could put behind her. To her unfortunate discovery, however, two of the royal guards where standing outside a shop very close to her getaway, and Norrington yelled at them to chase after her. She sprinted her fastest, which wasn't fast enough. The next thing she knew, there was a burly, uniformed man on either side of her, each taking hold of an arm.

Knowing that, at this point, it was absolutely pointless to struggle against their body weight (which, compared to hers, was massive), she released a sigh and allowed herself to stop all movement. In a way, it was a relief to catch her breath, but in another more pertinent way it was simply humiliating and demeaning.

Norrington waltzed up to her elegantly, with a serious expression laid across his face. It was a mixture of annoyance and curiosity, hidden beneath eyes that Elizabeth didn't believe she could ever learn to trust.

"Ms. Swann, I appreciate your efforts, but your games are over now. I assure you, this situation you have put on yourself is very real. It's for your own good that your father knows what you where up to and with whom," he said with contempt in his voice that sent an exasperated, angry chill through Elizabeth. He talks as if he knows everything. How would he know what Will and I were doing, how would he know we were doing anything at all? He wasn't there, and I wish he never had come.Finally, she was done listening to his rambling of the 'proper thing' and just why Governor Swann must know this and that. She had absolutely had enough.

"You never had a childhood did you? You must never have been allowed to have your own friends or play at all. You must have been paraded around society, just like me, but had no say or will to change that," he looked at her, shocked at the confidence and the audacity of her accusation. He wanted to stop her little speech, but he found no words. And, so, she plowed on," If you knew what it's like to be free even for a moment, you would understand. But no, you were deprived. That's why you're such a grumpy man, why you're so uppity about every little thing. Isn't it? You can take me back but no matter how much you may like it, I will never grow up to be like you."

The mortified Lieutenant's face flushed the deepest shade of red in both embarrassment and rage. He glared at the girl, who had no right to put him in his place. He knew his place, and he would make sure she knew hers. Any shred of sympathy he had for her was covered by his duty and defensiveness.

"You, boy with the fruit," he said to a young man running a fruit stand just a few feet away from their rather public argument. He walked over to him, placing money the juvenile vendor's hand that made his eyes glow, "Please do us a favor and fetch the governor for me. Tell him it's about his daughter and bring him here. You may say you were sent by Lieutenant James Norrington." It was obviously he haughtily relished saying his own entitled name.

With a nod, the boy ran off in the direction of the mansion. Elizabeth realized it was too late now; there was no longer much hope in getting out of this. It was too late, and she may as well at least make sure she was the only one punished in this situation.

"Sir," she said through gritted teeth, as this man was becoming increasingly hard to be polite too, "I will accept my punishment, but please don't make any trouble for Will. Nothing happened I promise you, and I will take on anything that may be my consequence, just please don't hurt him. I couldn't-" She stopped, realizing she may have shown more feelings than she had intended.

Those icy blue eyes looked at her with disapproval, seeing right through her. "It is not honorable to have the acquaintances you do, much less be so close to them. It is noble to defend someone, but, in your case, you are young and naïve and know not of your proper place or people to surround yourself with. Your father must know everything, for your own benefit in the long run." He wouldn't admit it, but the fact that this would make the girl hate him bothered him to no end. He would have stayed to his word, too, allowing her misdoings to be found by her father, had it not been for her last interjection.

"I will never respect you," she said with haunting sincerity, looking deep into his eyes. Something about this touched him in a painful way. He hated to admit any weakness, especially from such a young girl, but something about her point-blank expression struck him.

"Alright, Miss Elizabeth," he began "While I do not need the respect of a child, it isn't proper for someone as close to your family as I am to have ill-feelings toward them. And so, I will give you this. If you simply give me your forgiveness, and a promise to have your respect on future occasions, I shall let you free. I will make sure when your father comes here, he believes it has all been a misunderstanding. Am I clear?"

Elizabeth was taken aback at the rather unexpected olive branch she was being handed. How had she managed to faze him? She was skeptical, and quite confused, yet more over relieved. She raised an eyebrow to the man fixedly standing in front of her, her lock or key to freedom. "Forgiveness can be a lot to ask. Those could be broad terms."

"Or I can make sure you never see the Turner boy again, and are constantly under watch."

"On the other hand, what are a few words and an accepted apology? I forgive you."

Though he sensed insincerity in her voice, she had held up her part of the bargain. And he, being a man of his word, was not one to fall back on his half of the promise. He waved at the military men to release the girl's arms, and she gave him a look that he couldn't decipher between a 'Thank you' and something not quite as polite.

Elizabeth was glad to be able to move again. Her arms, her legs, she was aware of every feeling and wisp of wind catching her as she raced away from the three men and down this hill she had come from, heading steadily back toward the spot on the beach she had discovered with her friend. Well, that was more terrifying than any imaginary pirate threat I have ever dealt with. I hope Will wasn't scared off… She prayed he would still be there, that he hadn't been too worried, that he wouldn't be past coming back with her again, despite the possible repercussions.

Little did she know, he had been waiting this whole time, consumed by his thoughts, in the same spot she had left him last. He sat with the cloth that been on her head, carefully held between his fingers as if holding a small part of her would keep her safe from the man that had ripped her from their world.

As she kicked sand behind her, heading for her dearest play mate, she saw him sitting on the drift wood. She called his name to get his attention, and his eyes lit up with the greatest relief.

"Your safe," he sighed, lifting a smile on his lips.

"Let's run away."

"What? Where?" He wasn't expecting that.

"Anywhere. Somewhere different, Will, where we can be together and be safe. Let's run off somewhere where no one can touch us and we can talk and play pirates as long as we like. No one can say who I can and can't be with. Their all boring, stuffed shirts."

"Miss Swann, I'm not entirely sure." He would, of course, have loved nothing more than to go with her. However, he was a bit more logical and knew that, if they were to disappear, they would be found eventually. Not only that, but he wasn't so sure he should be with her anywhere in the first place, much less hidden away from society. He tried to bring her back down to earth and ground her with truth. "If we go, you'll get in trouble. So will I, and then we'd never be able to see each other again at all."

He was afraid she would be too stubborn to understand. She was very strong-willed when she wanted something, he was beginning to learn. But she understood.

"Your right," she sighed, slightly deflated from the high of her scheming.

"Go home for now, it's what's best."

"Alright…" she mumbled, taking in one last look at him before she turned away, thinking to herself I hope he isn't done playing. He may just be politely letting me down to get out of that ridiculous little game. Does he truly want to spend his time with me? Perhaps it was silly of me to think s-

"Will I see you tomorrow then, princess?" Will said with a smirk, deflating her inaccurate thoughts just as she had begun to turn to walk away.

A grin met her lips, and she turned back around with a dramatic flourish.

"If you so wish, Captain. Until tomorrow. And of course, as is costmary, when a lady must come or go, you may kiss my hand." She stuck out her petite fingers towards the boy.

He smiled softly as he walked pointedly toward her. As he lifted her hand to his lips, he realized how comfortable her fingers felt resting in his. He delicately let her hand down and looked straight at her as she did the same. Brown met brown and both of them were over taken by grins that stretched clear across their faces.

Elizabeth wrapped her arms around him, giving him a comfortable hug, which almost knocked Will over in shock. But his surprise had barely faded into such natural comfort, and he had barely begun to return the assuring squeeze, when she turned and bounded happily away.

It was so hard to keep a grip on her, or pinpoint anything about her impulsive nature. He realized then, though he wasn't sure of everything that went through her head, he was sure of her. Sure that she would be something constant and comfortable for him, no matter how far apart the differences decided by class would threaten to take them from each other. She flitted around his thoughts then, and from then on. His dear friend, Elizabeth

As Elizabeth trekked toward her home, her mind was whirring with thoughts, as well; most of them very similar to those running through her companion's mind somewhere in the town behind her.

I have come up with so many stories, so many lands and people and Kings on far of shores.She realized, but this is the best story of mine yet. The story of us.

She smiled contentedly to what she assumed was herself as she approached the iron gates. However, though she wouldn't know it, her smile was shared identically with a certain boy across town. Both caused by the other, and neither to be going anywhere any time soon.