Disclaimer: I don't own PotC, much as I would like to.
The day after Will left, Elizabeth couldn't bear to go back to the Pearl. Not just yet. The memories she held in her head and patterned over her body in the form of new and different aches were too new, too different. Too new, too different for her to be able to just put them away in the dark and move on for the next ten years.
Ten years…
A year after Will had gone, Elizabeth looked down at the sleeping babe in her arms and smiled. It had been hard to believe in the time after Will had gone that it had truly been real, and that he had not died at the hand of Davy Jones on that fateful day. After the aches had faded, what proof did she have that it was ever more than a faded dream? But now she had little William. And it was no dream.
Nine years…
Two years had passed, and Elizabeth had found herself a hardy captain willing to take her to the small isle where she had left Will (or he her- did the difference really matter?). He had been a leery of transporting a woman, let alone one with a small child, but she had soon convinced him with a nice sum of gold that she had inherited from her father. The date would be slightly off when they arrived, but would it matter in eight years time?
Eight years…
Three years had gone by, and Elizabeth found herself once again in the company of one scoundrel Captain Jack Sparrow. He had shown up drunk at her door- how he found her, she had no idea, but she let him in and left him on the floor to sleep off his woes. She introduced him to William the next morning. He would not touch the boy when she was around, but when she came back from the kitchen with the tea (and something a little stronger for Jack), William was flying through the air only to be caught safely in the pirate's arms.
Seven years…
Four years had gone by, and William was fast growing up. Elizabeth began to tell him stories of his father, alongside the normal bedtime tales, now that he was old enough to understand the man who made him, his father.
Six years…
Five years had passed. It was hard to believe that half the time had slipped away already. Elizabeth choked back a sob as she remembered Will's smile, and the look in his eyes when he told her to keep a weather eye on the horizon. Sunset found her seated on the cliff, legs dangling over the edge as she watched the sun slipping under the waves. But there was no green light, only a growing cold as the last of the warmth disappeared. Elizabeth stood, brushing her dress down, and went back inside to her son.
Five years…
Six years had gone by; William was fast growing up. He was beginning to ask questions. He'd noticed that the other children he played with when she went to town. They had fathers, and he did not.
So he asked her.
Where is my father?
Why did he go?
When is he coming back?
Is he ever coming back?
So she answered him.
Far away, beyond the edges of the world.
Because he had to, sweetheart- he had a duty to do.
In a few years, sweetheart, just a few.
Yes. Yes, he is coming back.
And he'll be proud of you. I know he will.
Four years…
Seven years. Such a long time had passed, but upon looking back, it seemed so short. Much like William. It seemed like such a short while ago that he was a babe in arms, but now he was a rapscallion of a boy, quieter than most (like his father), but still a joy to care for.
Three years…
Eight years gone by, and the questions about pirates began. So she taught him to sing. 'Hoist the Colours High' was among the songs he learnt, but she warned him to be careful. A dangerous song to sing for one that does not know the meaning, especially when one travels alone. So she made sure he knew the meaning, and told him the tale of Calypso, goddess of the sea.
Two years…
There was an argument. He shouted at her; full of childish rage, sparked by some silly quarrel. The air was hot with accusations when he left. He returned when it was almost full dark, eyes wide and tears shivering from his cheeks. She said nothing, only gathered him in her skirts and let him cry.
One year…
This year, with his father's return so close at hand, she took her son up to the cliff top as the sun was setting, and told him the last story she had to tell. She told him of the mysterious green light that sometimes appeared when the sun set- some had seen it, some had not, and some had only claimed to see it, but had not really seen a thing. She told him that some said it was the sign of a soul returning from the land of the dead. She told him how she knew it was the signal of his father's return.
Now…
She is standing on the cliff top, grasses rustling by her feet and the sun setting in the sky. Her son walks up behind her, singing quietly. His voice is almost lost in the wind, but she knows the words. They stand side by side as the sun slips below the waves. She feels her son stiffen as the green light shoots into the sky, and looks down, both smiling at the other.
As the figure leaning from the rigging of the Flying Dutchman grew more and more distinct, Elizabeth thought. As a mother, she would introduce her son to his father. As a wife, she would kiss her husband and scold him for being away for so long. But as a woman, she thought she would melt with relief, thankfulness and joy.
A/N: The inspiration for this came almost entirely from the last scene, after all of the credits rolled and you see the green light, and Elizabeth on the cliff top with her son.
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