My Siren

Set in AWE, in the confrontation scene between Will and Elizabeth, after they rescue Jack from Davy's Jones locker. No flamers just because I use film dialogue please!

The Black Pearl

Elizabeth sat in the hold, staring dazedly at the hull wall, her heart sinking. They had just rescued Jack Sparrow from Davy Jones' Locker, and Elizabeth had been feeling unwell, so had run down into the hold for some peace, and to escape the intense stares of Will. Their relationship had never been the same, not since they were reunited at Isla Cruces. There was a lack of trust, a lack of passion now. And in her heart, she knew why. She had changed irrevocably. And another change was coming to destabilize their lives even more.

There was no getting around it now. This was the second time she had missed her monthly courses; and the morning vomiting had only gotten worse. She was pregnant, or at least she believed so. Her mind still optimistically denied it; her belly wasn't swollen, her courses could just be erratic and as for the vomiting, well she was on a vermin infested, unhygienic pirate ship for God's sake. She splayed her hand over her abdomen anyway, feeling for any movement.

Don't be so stupid, Elizabeth, there wouldn't be any movement yet, she thought caustically. Her mind turned to the father, there was no doubt who it would be.

Cutler Beckett, lord of the East India Trading Company. Oh God, how could she tell Will, and how could she conceal it? She thanked her lucky stars that she was not yet showing, but for how long? And the pressing issue of the East India Trading Company's tyranny of the seas still had to be addressed. She couldn't do that whilst pregnant, could she? She hung her head in her hands, despair melting her strength. She was with child, an occasion of joy, and the father was her mortal enemy; a ruthless, arrogant, domineering tyrant who had pursued her and the crew of the Black Pearl for weeks. Piracy was being stamped out in the world of the living, entire crews and ships annihilated by the Flying Dutchman, with Beckett not far behind.

And he was getting closer, like a bloodhound on a trail. If he found out about the child…..

"Elizabeth?" Will's voice ripped through the fog of her consciousness, driving her thoughts into the dark cavern of her mind. She looked up at her onetime fiancé, tall and ruggedly handsome. But he no longer stirred her soul; that power now resided with another. What does he want now? She thought irritably. She was far too busy thinking about her prospective pregnancy. "You left Jack to the Kraken," he continued bluntly. Her heart went out to him, melting her coldness. She could tell he was angry and disappointed in her, but she had done what she had needed to do. "Doing what we need to survive…."

Beckett's words rang in her head, but she blocked them out. She had made up for it; risked everything to come and rescue Jack. And they had succeeded, and now she could erase the guilt from her heart, move on whether Jack forgave her or not. But Will wasn't about to let go. Their argument went back and forth, revelations popping from nowhere.

"You thought I loved him?" she said, aghast. Seeing the truth in Will's eyes, she scrambled up and tried to slide around him. He turned her and swung her into the wall. It's not Jack I love….

"If you make your choices alone, how can I trust you?" he asked her in an achingly painful whisper, his dark gaze intense. She flinched and pushed him away.

"You can't," she replied as she climbed into the open air, leaving Will in the stuffy air of the hold. He could never truly trust her now, for her heart belonged to the enemy.

That night, beneath the starless sky, Elizabeth sat at the bow, looking into the pitch horizon, tears silently dripping down her cheeks. She had just seen her own father, all but alive; drift past in a longboat, on his way to the world of the dead.

Beckett had murdered him; Elizabeth knew it with all her soul. The father of her child had murdered its grandfather.

She caressed the skin of her stomach, misery clogging her lungs. Will had tried to comfort her, but she was inconsolable, preferring to be alone with her grief. What was worse, she was sure Tia Dalma knew about her pregnancy. The mystic had carefully examined her, after one of her vomiting fits, and given Elizabeth one of her inscrutable looks. Now all she needed was for the others to find out her secret, and before she knew it, Beckett would know about it also.

"Lizzy?"

At the call, she turned her head to find Jack settling down to sit beside her, cross-legged with a bottle of rum. "You alrig' Lizzy?" he asked, unfamiliar concern flooding his eyes. Elizabeth turned away, determined not to let him see her secret. "Somethin' you be a-wanting to tell me, Elizabeth?" he continued relentlessly. She turned back to him, eyes wide. He knew! Jack smirked, saluting her with the bottle.

"Looks like that persuasion wasn't so unfriendly after all," he muttered. Elizabeth knew he was referring to her comment from several weeks ago.

"Jack…."

"Don' worry, Elizabeth. Your secret's safe with me, darlin'," he interrupted her, his eyes wide and innocent. Elizabeth glared back at him, disbelieving.

"Thank you, Jack," she said quietly. If he told anyone, she'd shoot him.

The Endeavour, the world of the living

Cutler Beckett sat at his desk, taking his evening tea. The sky was a velvety purple, infused with the darkest sapphire blue. As the breeze filtered into the large cabin, he sighed and exhaled gratefully. Nights like these invariably reminded him of that night, so many weeks ago, when Elizabeth Swann had broken into his office and they had…

He smiled at the memories as he sipped his tea, stretching luxuriantly in the large admiral's chair. He had been searching for her for weeks, her managing to elude him, but now he had her cornered. When she, and the crew of the Black Pearl, emerged from Davy Jones' Locker, they would be waiting for them. And he would take back what was his.

"Sir? Sao Feng 'as arrived as arranged," Mercer's bark came from the door. Beckett looked up from his daydream and set his cup down, smiling in a satisfied manner. All was going very well.