She panicked. What else was she supposed to do? They were going to leave him behind to die! She had to give him something, anything so that they would save him. She just didn't think her decision through. Not until it was too late. Not until Will was safe and it was time to fulfill her promise. Not until it was actually time to become Commodore Norrington's wife.

Jack and Will were gone, probably half way to the other side of the world by now. The 'good' pirates were gone with them, and the 'bad' pirates were either already executed or still in jail. No one could help her now. Even her father, who is supposed to have her best interests in mind, was of no help to her. He supported this marriage. He WANTED this marriage. He said the Commodore was a 'fine man', and would bring great honor to our family. Honor… nothing more honorable than marrying your daughter off for political gain. There was no one to save her. No one to get her out of this. This was happening.

She lay in her bed, willing time itself to slow down, dreading the morning light starting to fill her room. Today was the day. Her last day of freedom, her last morning waking up alone… her last day without him. The very moment sunlight peeked between her curtains, her bedroom doors flung open and her two maid servants began quickly bustling about. She squeezed her eyes shut, pretending she was asleep (even though sleep never came all night), praying they would leave her alone. All at once, her covers were torn from her and as the brisk morning air assaulted her newly exposed body, she hugged her limbs tightly to herself. "Come now Miss Swan! Today is the day! No time to lie about!" her servant, Abigail said holding her covers. Elizabeth turned over with a groan, all the while keeping her eyes shut. 'Just go away' she thought. With a huff, Abigail folded her covers and began preparing a bath. The other servant, Martha, came over and sat gently on the side of the bed. "My lady, today is going to happen." She spoke gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. Elizabeth turned towards her maid, exposing the tears running down her cheeks. "Martha, please. I don't want this. I don't love him." She sobbed quietly. Martha squeezed her arm lovingly. "Child… love will come. This is for the best, you'll see." Elizabeth knew she was trying to be comforting, but her gentle words only made her fall deeper into despair. She was truly alone.

The bath was quite lovely, full of warm water and delightful scents, and on any other day, it would have been most comforting. Today it was too short, and far too intricate. The moment she stepped out of the tub, she was rubbed with the finest oils that made her milky skin smooth and most alluring. After she was dried off, she was wrapped in a robe and seated so that her servants could arrange her long wavy hair into a beautiful knot on the top of her head. They included braids and flowers to accent her already shining locks. They kept holding up a mirror for her to admire herself, but she kept pushing it away. She didn't want to see what she was becoming. After her hair was arranged, her corset was placed on her and sewn up painfully. "Sorry Miss. Beauty is pain." Abigail said with an apologetic smile. Elizabeth said nothing. There was nothing for her to say. Not now, not later.

She was lost in her thoughts; so much so that she hardly heard Martha tell her that she was almost done. She looked down and saw that the rest of the dress was already on. It was beautiful; ivory, off the shoulder with lace trim and lace sleeves. But to her it wasn't beautiful. It was painful. She felt Abigail sweep a slight rogue over her cheeks, and then dab some lipstick on her lips. She heard Martha stifle a sob. "Oh my lady… you are the most beautiful bride." She said. Martha ushered her towards the full length mirror. She kept her eyes closed. She didn't want to see. "Miss Swan, please. Open your eyes." Martha pleaded. With a sigh, Elizabeth opened her eyes. As she took herself in, she saw only a familiar stranger staring back at her. Any other day she would have been thoroughly impressed with her maids work. Not today. Today, she was appalled. She didn't want to be pretty; she didn't want to be appealing. She wanted to repel. She wanted to be turned away, unacceptable. She was used to not getting her way.