Disclaimer: Once again, I own nothing.

Elizabeth didn't remember much of the trip back to her cell. When she woke up, it was still dark outside. A loud groan escaped her lips as she forced herself up into a sitting position. The guards had tossed her on the straw-covered stone floor, right in a puddle of something nasty; she was sure she didn't want to know what it was. Gingerly, Elizabeth dragged her battered and bruised body to the stone bench in the cell.

Once there, she laid back against the cell wall and took stock. Despite the pain of the split lip and sore stomach, nothing seemed to be broken. Thank God, she thought, as tears fell silently from her eyes. The horrors of the evening came back to her. At first, it seemed like a bad dream. But the throbbing of her right forearm put paid to that thought.

The wound was red around the edges, and beginning to ooze in places along the "P". Curing incompetent men who left her without care, Elizabeth looked for something with which to bandage it. There was nothing around her, and she resigned herself to tearing a strip off her wedding dress. Though her right arm was weak and shaky, Elizabeth managed to tear a long strip from the hem of her petticoat. Awkwardly, she held one end of the strip with her right hand, and began to wrap the other end around her wrist. She wrapped until she ran out of petticoat, and tucked the end neatly into the bandage. The make-shift bandage now went from Elizabeth's wrist to just under her elbow.

Satisfied with her work, Elizabeth leaned against the stone wall of her cell, and tried to rest a little. Unfortunately, by that point the unruly crowd of common criminals next door had realized that she was awake and alert. As they had earlier, calls for her to come closer and lewd cat-calls rang out through the cells. This hanging can't come fast enough, she thought bitterly.

The sounds of guards coming down the stairs distracted her. Twice in one night? She groaned inwardly and let her head fall back against the wall. Of course, he hasn't had you yet. Can't expect him to forget about that just because he's angry. Once more, Elizabeth set herself to look disinterested. It became apparent rather quickly, however, that the guard at the cell door was not her normal escort.

The guard opened the cell door and stepped aside for her father. "Come quickly." Elizabeth nodded quickly and stumbled to her feet. She and Governor Swann made their way quickly up the stairs and walked down a torch-lit corridor.

"Tell me what is happening," Elizabeth gasped as she strove to keep up with her father's fast pace.

"Our name still has some standing with the King. I've arranged passage to England. The captain is a friend of mine –"

"No!" Elizabeth stopped in her tracks, "Will's gone to find Jack!"

Governor Swann grabbed her left elbow and continued walking, "He won't be back in time. And Beckett has offered one pardon only, one. And that pardon is for Jack Sparrow. You are a branded pirate." He stopped at the doorway to the prison and stared sadly into Elizabeth's eyes, "Do not ask me to endure the sight of my daughter walking to the gallows. Do not!" He and Elizabeth walked swiftly down the steps to the carriage. Governor Swann opened the door and helped his daughter in, "Perhaps I can ensure a fair trial for Will if he returns."

Pain filled Elizabeth's face as she said through gritted teeth, "A fair trial for Will ends in a hanging."

Governor Swann's own face was grim as he replied, "Then there's nothing for you here." And he slammed the door to the carriage shut.

The ride from Fort Charles to the docks was quick, and Elizabeth had no time to ponder over what she was going to do to let Will know where she was going. All too soon, she heard her father yelling "Whoa!" to the horses. She heard him tell her to wait inside the carriage, and made a quick decision. She was going to find Will.

Quickly, she slipped out the right side door of the carriage and faded into the shadows of a nearby alleyway. Elizabeth watched in horror as Mercer shoved her father into the side of the carriage. Mouthing a "Sorry" towards her father, Elizabeth turned and ran back up the hill to Fort Charles, and Beckett's quarters.

It was a ten minute journey on foot, made all the more difficult by the necessity of avoiding the night watchmen. Finally, she made it to Beckett's quarters. A quick glance in the window showed that he wasn't inside. The ocean-side door was open, so she slipped inside. A previous trip to Beckett's rooms had told her where the pardon papers where. She grabbed them, and a pistol that had been laying carelessly on a side table. After making sure the gun was loaded (it was), Elizabeth hid in the doorway leading to his bedroom.

Elizabeth didn't have to wait long before she saw Beckett come in from the very same door she had entered not five minutes previously. She watched as he set the lantern and letter he was holding down on his desk and open his EITC letter box.

"No doubt you've discovered that loyalty is no longer the currency of the realm, as your father believes." He spoke without turning around. It scared her to know that he knew she was there without looking.

Putting on a defiant, angry face – which was no small trouble – she stepped out from the shadows, "Then what is?"

Beckett turned around, "I'm afraid currency, is the currency of the realm."

Gathering her courage, Elizabeth walked forward, her hands behind her back. "I expect then, that we can come to some sort of understanding." He came up to meet her halfway, and she continued, "I'm here to negotiate."

"I'm listening," Beckett said condescendingly. Elizabeth's left hand came up, her pistol pointed right in-between Beckett's eyes. His tone became slightly more serious, "I'm listening intently."

Elizabeth smirked at him and held up the pardon papers in her right hand, "These Letters of Marque, they are signed by the King?"

Beckett smirked right back at her, "Yes, and they're not valid until they bear my signature and my seal."

"Or else I would not still be here," she said. Elizabeth pressed the pistol into the underside of Beckett's chin, "Consider, before you try to get out of this, that you robbed me of both my wedding night and my virtue."

"So I did," Beckett turned towards his desk with another small, satisfied smirk. "A marriage interrupted," he scratched his signature onto the document, "or fate intervenes." He melted a wax stick, smeared it on the papers, and pressed his signet ring into the wax. "You're making great efforts to ensure Jack Sparrow's freedom."

Elizabeth reached out to grab the papers from Beckett, "These aren't for Jack."

"Oh really?" He held onto the papers as well, "To ensure Mr. Turner's freedom then?" Beckett stared intently at her, "I'll still want that compass, or the chest it leads to." He released the letters.

Somewhat confused that he was letting her go so readily, but not willing to question it, Elizabeth slowly backed out of the door and ran off. She skirted around the corner of the resident quarters, saw no guards, and took off for the docks.

There were four ships docked in the harbor. Two were the ships that had brought Beckett and his men. Another was a sloop whose deckhands were unloading cargo onto the docks. The last one was a small merchant vessel, and it looked to Elizabeth to be the closest to leaving. She took a step towards it, and then stopped. There was no way she would be getting on that ship in this dress. Mr. Gibbs wasn't the only sailor who thought women were bad luck on a ship. She needed men's clothes. No, she corrected herself, I need boy's clothes. A man can grow facial hair.

Immediately, she felt her plan deteriorating into nothingness. Where in the world would she be able to find boy's clothing? Feeling like nothing less than a failure, Elizabeth sank down to the ground, not caring that her dress would be getting dirty. It all seemed so pointless. What good was getting the Letters of Marque if there was no way for her to get to Will?

Well nothing good will come from you sitting here feeling sorry for yourself, luv. The voice running through her head sounded suspiciously like Jack Sparrow.

She froze. Voice-Jack was right. She had friends in the town. The lady who lived next to Mr. Brown's blacksmith shop had become something of a friend when Elizabeth would go and visit Will. Mrs. Jessup was a widow who lived alone, her son having been signed with a crew as a cabin boy. There was a chance she could get clothes from her!

Elizabeth stood up with a smile on her face. She had a new plan, and Mrs. Jessup's home wasn't far from the docks. She took off at a run for the older woman's house. There was no time to waste, the merchant ship looked like it would be sailing with the morning tide, and false dawn was already approaching.

Five minutes later, Elizabeth slipped into a side alley that had a gate that led to Mrs. Jessup's small backyard. Undoing the latch, she slipped through the gateway, and quietly shut the door behind her. In the faint light from the half-moon, Elizabeth made her way across the small yard to the back door. Testing the handle as quietly as she could, she found it to be unlocked. Elizabeth breathed a prayer of thanks and went inside.

To her great surprise, there was a light coming from the kitchen. Peering around the corner, Elizabeth was shocked to see Mrs. Jessup sitting at her kitchen table, a mug of steaming tea held between her hands.

Hesitantly, Elizabeth walked towards the table, "Mrs. Jessup?" She called out quietly.

Mrs. Jessup's head shot up in surprise, "Miss Swann! I hadn't heard you come in." Visibly flustered, she gestured at an empty chair to her right, "Please, sit down dear. There have been such awful rumors circulating through town regarding you and young William," she said as Elizabeth eased herself down into the offered chair. "I told those who were spreading these rumors that they couldn't be true. I tried to get a hold of your or William, but I never heard anything back." Mrs. Jessup extended a hand out and grasped Elizabeth's clenched hands with her own, "What happened dearie?"

Elizabeth stared into Mrs. Jessup's warm eyes and burst into tears. With great heaving sobs, the whole torrid story came bursting out of her. Getting stood up at her wedding, only to find that her beloved Will had been arrested that morning. Being arrested shortly afterwards herself, and subsequently being thrown into jail; this was followed by Will leaving to hunt down Jack Sparrow. Elizabeth sobbed even harder as she told her friend the horror of being raped, the pain has her innocence was taken from her, and the unclean feeling that has stayed with her ever since. She finished by telling Mrs. Jessup about Beckett's offer of marriage, her refusal, and being branded as a pirate.

Mrs. Jessup was silent for a full minute when Elizabeth finished her story. She sighed deeply, then lifted her head to look at Elizabeth with understanding eyes. "Well then dear, what do you need?"

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