-1A/N: Hola! In this fic, I imagine Elizabeth having gained her darker side a bit earlier than DMC, say, post COTBP. Norrington has practically forced her into engagement, and this fic focuses on exactly how vicious she would defend her freedom. Jack/Elizabeth, naturally, chaps! Read on!
Prologue
Man has always engaged in pernicious acts of foolery: imperialism, murder, war, among others. Of all of them, by far the worst is love.
I dared to love a woman once. The most lovely creature I'd ever laid eyes on, and although several years her senior I vowed to make her my own one day. My ambition nearly brought the end of me. Not all treasures are so easily kept.
Swans are beautiful, are they not? But if one dares to go too close, one discovers the truth of their vicious nature. Threaten their freedom, and their great white wings will set upon a man like a storm, feet clawing for the eyes.
Pull up a chair, lad, and I'll tell you what happens to a man, when he dares love a Swann.
Part I- Breaking Point
After being at sea, taking meals with pirates, I felt strangely out of place in the finely furnished dining room. To be quite honest, I felt strangely out of place on land. My feet felt a certain resentment towards the soil; it did not sway freely with the waves, as the deck of a ship.
A lush feast had been laid out before us, a celebration for two. I found myself dining at Commodore James Norrington's table; the man seemed miles away at the other end. Even at that distance, I could tell James suffered from a bit of nerves tonight. Although I knew it meant nothing, I still felt a slight surge of triumph curl in my gut. Little meek Miss Swann, causing the great Commodore twitch inside with her mere presence. Perhaps I suffered from delusions of grandeur, but one must pass the time with something.
We ate in silence, exchanging polite smiles across the void. My thoughts traveled to a man unable to eat so freely, a man who had saved my life. A man destined for the gallows tomorrow at noon. A pair of dark kohl-lined eyes that seemed as though they could bore through me, straight to my soul. Peas in a pod, love. Was it so? Could a lady of Port Royal's high society rub elbows so easily with a pirate? I could. I did. I reveled in the experience. I craved for the freedom once again.
My adventure on the sea left me scarred, not quite the same, a changed woman. I found myself craving many unladylike things. The sea breeze whipping through my hair, the handles of the helm worn smooth from years of loving use under my palms, a boy's costume allowing the free movement of my legs and the weight of a sabre at my hip. A deserted island all my own, a bonfire, a bottle of rum, and a pirate captain to share it with. Thinking of that little island lost amidst the clear blue waters unleashed a sensory memory upon me, so strong that my fork fell to my plate with an unrefined clatter. I hated it, that the thought of his calloused hands on my body could evoke such a reaction. Could leave behind such an ache in my bones, a demanding desire.
"Are you alright, Elizabeth?" asked James, regarding me curiously.
"Quite alright," I assured him, society smile plastered in place. "My hand just slipped, is all."
Something lingered in the Commodore's expression, alerting me he didn't quite believe my excuse. The past few days I'd sensed something in James never noticed before. There was a certain predatory alertness about him, subtle but undoubtedly present. Perhaps it was a quality never displayed when ashore, in times of peace and quiet, the only times I'd ever before been in his presence.
Of course it would take a certain viciousness to survive at sea, to command a fleet of ships, leading a flock of men who would pounce at the first sign of weakness. Jack flaunted this attribute unabashedly; James took me a bit more by surprise. It wasn't the first time this week. We must go after Will, I'd insisted. He'll die if we don't. I fought the urge to scream at the man, for I could see the thoughts of leaving an innocent boy behind to die at the hands of Barbossa's pirates circling behind his eyes. But we'd retreated to the side of the ship for a quiet exchange, not wanting to have a loud row in front of the crew. I was beginning to understand just how important it was for a ship captain to keep face. James turned those green eyes to me, calculating, sizing me up in a way. I will go back for the boy, if I may make it a wedding present to you, Miss Swann. I pressed my lips together, considering his offer amidst the urgency to return for Will running wild in my mind. How dare you, I thought to myself. It was trading one life for another, in a way. Marrying James Norrington wouldn't kill me immediately, but I feared it would be a stifling match. Amidst the fear coursing through my veins, I gripped the rail. Very well.
Two words sealed my fate. James turned his proposal into a bargain, perhaps the most ungentlemanly act I'd ever witnessed him commit. I studied him across the table, the way he sat with perfect posture, neatly consuming his meal. For as long as I'd known the man, he always lived life exactly by the book. The perfect straight laced military man, nearly a machine. I began to wonder if there was anything left of a man who didn't live for rules, who still remembered answering only to himself. Had such a man ever existed, beneath that snow white wig? I found myself wanting to find out.
As this curiosity set in, a knavish plan began to weave into my thoughts. What would the Commodore do, were his fiancee to unsettle his center of gravity? Push his limits, remind him of freedom? It could very well be the ticket to my own, and maybe even Jack's. Oh James, I thought to myself. I hope I don't break you.
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