Title: Broken Diamond
Rating: G
Pairings: E/W, E/J
Feedback: yes, please
Summary: A broken diamond in a string of pearls, she fits with neither.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Disney's, no infringement meant.

"It's a smart match miss."

"Yes, it is." Elizabeth leaned back against her pillows, staring down at the book she held, not noticing that it was upside down. Estrella caught this, but wisely said nothing, instead smiling to herself. "It's what you wanted, isn't it miss?"

"Of course." Elizabeth said softly. "Will is a dear, isn't he Es?"

"You've broken countess maidens' hearts by taking him for yourself, Miss, you may count on that." Estrella plumped the pillows. "Is there anything else, Miss?"

"No, that will do. Good night, Es."

"Good night, Miss." Estrella walked softly toward the door, shutting it slowly. She walked away shaking her head over her young miss's distraction. Well, wouldn't she have been distracted by the handsome Mister Turner? Of course she would, though she was older then him. She could hardly blame Elizabeth.

Elizabeth, meanwhile, was not distracted by her handsome fiancé. She had set the book down and was looking out her window. From her vantage point, all she could really see were the white curtains, fluttering in the light breeze and soft moonlight. The moon hung low, and the smell of the sea hung thick. Almost involuntarily, Elizabeth pushed back her blankets and walked over to the window. Pushing the curtains out of the way, Elizabeth surveyed the sleeping town. It ran helter skelter down to meet the sea. The docks stretched out, dark lines in the calm, dark sea. She wanted to turn away, to turn her back on the sea and the moonlight, to forget that such things existed, to forget that somewhere there were ships running free, and a dark eyed pirate shouting orders on a dark eyed ship. Her place was here, with Will.

She leaned her forehead against the window pane, sighing. She had never been torn between two men before. They had always flocked to her, and it was her choice who to reward and who to make suffer. Even when it was just James and Will, she had never doubted which of the two she would rather choose. But now? Her picture of Will blended with the picture of Jack. They were similar, yes, brothers almost, the sea serving as their blood tie. She could hardly imagine one without the other. They seemed to halves of the same whole. And she loved Will, she always had. She could not drop him as though he meant nothing. He did mean something. But Will was respectable, a blacksmith's apprentice. Despite the fact that her association with him broke the constraints of society, Will represented those self same constraints.

She wondered if this affinity for the pirate was actually for him, or if it was simply flirting with the idea that there was something better over the horizon. One could chalk it up to lust, a lust for life or the sea or pirates or him in general. It wasn't love, not like she loved Will. Or was it? Whatever it was, she gloried in it. It was wild and free and beautiful, in it's own way. He haunted her, waking and sleeping. She stood by Will and thought of Jack. To stand with the respectable and dream of the unacceptable, that was where the humor of the situation lay.

Elizabeth thought she heard footsteps and turned, ready to jump back into bed for fear of being caught, as though she were six years old again and sitting on the stairs of the mansion while her parents held one of their parties. That had been her freedom then, to watch the ladies in their elegant silks and pearls, and the gentlemen in their coats and wigs. They would twirl around the room to the harpsichord her mother played, laughing and smiling. She had wanted that world then. She dreamed of a different dance now, not a minuet but a dance of excitement, and freedom. A dance along rigging, or through a stormy sea. Would Will be her partner in that?

She saw herself high in the rigging of a ship, the corsets and skirts she so hated now long since abandoned, her hair tied down with a bit of rope, free to scurry around like a child. She liked what she imagined. Had she been sure Jack would take her, she would stow away on the next ship to Tortuga. But he wouldn't.

Sighing again, Elizabeth turned from the window. It hurt her to, to lose sight of the sea and the moonlight and the sky in between, but she had to. It was a decision that had been made for her long ago, and she had to abide by it. She walked slowly across the room, climbing back into the ornate bed that now seemed to represent her prison, her society, her life. Her little taste of freedom had done more harm then good, and her discontent was spreading.

"Oh Jack," she whispered into the moonlight. "Take me away." A single tear slid down her cheek, catching the moonlight, a broken diamond in a string of pearls