Disclaimer: As always, publicly recognisable content is not mine but the property of its owners.
A/N: This was my creative writing piece for my English coursework in Year Ten (approximately a year and a half ago). Needless to say the names have been changed since then – we weren't allowed to base it on anything but I chose to do it subtley on PotC anyway - but I haven't edited it otherwise, preferring to leave it as a… nostalgia piece, seeing as though my writing has matured an awful lot since it was written.
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A heavy smog hung over Port Royale and remnants of the previous night's battle littered the shore. The shells of a few houses and a once-magnificent pirate ship were still smouldering and people were unconscious in the streets, either knocked out or in a stupor as a result of copious amounts of alcohol. The worst part was the smell though. The whole port stank of it – and it clung to everything – it hung in the air, like a colourless cloud, drowning people's emotions. The stench of death.
The young girl trudged down a side street, her eyes on her boots, boring into the leather. Her face was ashen and grey, covered in dirt. Two tear tracks cut their way through the grime and wound down her face until they reached her chin and came to an abrupt halt; she was shaken out of her reverie when a teardrop splashed onto her shoe. Mentally shaking herself, she sniffed back the tears and looked at her surroundings, silently scolding herself for becoming so soft and emotional.
Glancing around the small square, she was surprised to see that her aimless wanderings had brought her to the harbour; it seemed as though nothing could keep her away from the sea. Scanning the area however the devastation became more apparent and she felt the depression threaten to overwhelm her again. The skyline that she had known since childhood had been altered beyond recognition; the great houses of the lords and ladies lay empty and blackened, soot covering their ruined walls, and in that moment she was reminded of a time long ago.
//
Elizabeth stood there on the road, her hair mussed and her clothes torn, looking up at the smoking wreck of her life. One second she had had everything she had ever wanted; a loving family, caring friends, a welcoming home and a roof over her head – the next it had all been taken away and now she had no family to go to, no friends to speak of and no warm house to protect her. She was totally alone. Turning around to look out towards the horizon, she vowed to punish the people that had destroyed her, if it was the last thing she did.
//
Gazing out towards the waves with misty eyes, she saw a dishevelled line of her fellow crewmembers wading in the shallows, most likely trying to salvage some loot or other. Smiling weakly at them she was about to turn back to go and assess the damage to their finances when something else caught her eye.
Running into the water, she headed past her shipmates and ignoring their cries of "Elizabeth!" and "Swann!" the young girl moved as fast as she could, leaving a trail of frothing foam in her wake as she splashed through the sea. Coming to a halt, she dropped down into the water, not caring that it soaked her through to the skin.
Elizabeth had spotted the body from the shore, lying face down in the harbour and floating like a piece of driftwood. He was a fellow pirate, a friend, a scallywag; but now he was stone-cold, and it chilled her to the bone as she turned him over to see his glassy eyes staring to the heavens, never to alight on his precious ship again. As she traced the palms she knew so well the young girl noticed the dried blood trailing down his arm. Unbuttoning his shirt with nimble fingers, she tossed it aside to inspect the matter further. She gasped as she found the source of the bleeding; a clean, round hole that seemed to dominate his torso, surrounded by the congealed crimson liquid.
Elizabeth washed the wound with shaking hands before hauling the body to shore using all the strength she could muster – even though the water aided her, it was made more difficult by the weaponry the pirate still wore, dragging him down; it was a wonder he could move, let alone hold his own in a battle. Collapsing on the sand, she revelled in the burning heat of the white grains as she thought over what had been agreed in her head one last time.
//
The roar of the battle that raged around them fell on deaf ears as the pirates fought, locked in deadly combat. Swords ringing the two arch-enemies circled each other, their blows parried time and again, their lunges out-manoeuvred. It seemed that the two were an equal match. This was maybe the reason why the captain, his tricorn hat tipped at a cocky angle, didn't foresee what was to happen next and his grin definitely reflected that, full of an almost boyish innocence.
The sounds of the priming of a gun were lost in the chaos around them and the captain didn't see it coming until he was facing down the barrel.
"That's cheating!" he protested, frowning at his opponent; the obvious irritation at being caught off-guard plainly portrayed on his face. The other, considerably more unkempt, bared his teeth in what was clearly a poor attempt at a threatening sneer.
"Pirate," the captain's foe shrugged, in his rasping voice while landing a kick aimed for the other's stomach.
"That was for me," he said, "and this is for my girl," he added, pulling the trigger. As his putrid breath clouded the night air the captain fell and moved no more.
And so the end of the once-great ruler of the seven seas came about. This in itself was a bitter irony seeing as he had been saving that exact shot for the very man who had killed him; now he was dead, murdered, by a bullet from his own pistol.
//
After she had decided on what exactly to do the rest of the operation ran relatively smoothly. The crew respected her need for privacy and left her well alone, not daring to intervene. Elizabeth had been working all day, finally satisfied with her handiwork as night began to draw in.
Her face hard-set she readied her lifeboat, attaching a flickering lantern to the stern. Stepping into it she seized the paddles, turning her head away from her crewmembers so they wouldn't see her true emotions. Pulling away from the hull she groaned. Rowing out against the tide was a difficult task at the best of times but in light of the present situation it was near impossible what with the dimming light and the extra weight. However, she persevered, and was soon considerably far enough away from the ship to be safe.
Heaving her load overboard proved to be the most difficult undertaking yet. Struggling to keep the tiny vessel afloat and steady against the wind coming off of the sea she only just managed to lever it over with her back, catching it between the shoulder blades. Now, looking out to the raft that was bobbing on the ever-heightening waves she took a stick that had lain on the bottom of the lifeboat and set fire to it with the lantern's dwindling fuel. Tossing this out towards the small craft on the swelling sea she smiled as she watched it catch alight – she had judged the distance well.
As the sun slipped over the horizon a glorious blood-red stained the sky. Elizabeth could just make out the flame of the funeral pyre dancing in the wind. Watching it disappear from sight, the girl felt something that she hadn't felt in a long time. It could've been guilt, or compassion – but then she saw her burning home in her mind's eye again, now accompanied by the gravestones of her parents and anything she may have been feeling was gone in an instant.
Suddenly a hand snaked around her waist and a voice came from the shadows, the breath tickling her ear and clouding the night air.
"That little charade was very well played," it said, the body of its owner drawing closer to hers. Turning around, Elizabeth's eyes glittered in the waning light.
"Thanks," she replied, "I must admit, I was starting to believe it myself." Then she added as an afterthought, "You weren't so bad yourself."
"Anything for my girl," her companion responded.
Snuggling into his warm embrace, she continued.
"I'm so glad it's all over," she whispered.
"Those imbeciles posing as his crewmembers will rue the day they tried to make a fool out of me." Then she pulled him into a passionate kiss and they stayed there for a long time, the wind and the waves not seeming to matter as they could finally be together.
Just as they were about to drop off to sleep, Elizabeth uttered just three last words:-
"I love you."
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A/N: Elizabeth Swann in league with Barbossa, no less? Who'd have thought it? Definitely not me… :shock:
Thank you for reading.