A.N.: This was written on a whim, in the middle of some crazy Will/Elizabeth shipping with a few friends. It may have a sequel, it may not; it really all depends on whether or not I'm fortified enough to wrap myself in more Elizabeth beach!angst. Enjoy.
Paradise is relative.
Here she stands on a gorgeous island, watching as the clear waves lap at her feet. It's hard to imagine discontentment in such a beautiful place, but she feels it. There could be no other word for the aching gap she can feel in her mind and heart.
The softness of the white sand beneath her bare feet betrays her. It conjures up images of a devoted, loved face and the sensations of hands, rougher than the sand, running through her hair.
She stares out into the horizon, knowing of the distance that still marks them as her slaves, and clenches her fists in defiance.
If love had been enough before, it would be enough now. The small hand she clasps in her own is proof enough.