A/N: A little explanation behind this story: after seeing the third movie, which we (this is a collaborative effort) had been eagerly anticipating for the better part of a year, we came home from the movie severely disappointed and frankly, betrayed. As a result, we spent a caffeine induced night sitting and plotting what we would have liked to have seen in the movie. From that discussion and much deliberation, our story was born.
Disclaimer: Also forgot to mention this in the first chapter. We own nothing, obviously. However, we should, because it would be much better.
Chapter Two
Nearly a month had passed, and many of the crew were becoming restless. Tia Dalma had managed to recruit many of her fellow islanders, giving them a full crew, but the island people were obviously inexperienced sailors. Oftentimes at night the sounds of their strange acerbic chanting could be heard, creating a general unease amongst many.
"It's bad luck, I tell ya," Gibbs said uncomfortably to Will. "They could be cursing our very journey."
Out of them all, it was Barbossa and Tia Dalma who seemed the most at peace, the two seeming to have struck up an odd camaraderie. Elizabeth remained much the same, speaking only when necessary, and then in clipped, neutral tones. The shadows beneath her eyes appeared bruise like, contrasting sharply with the otherwise pallor of her skin.
Several days into their journey, Will had cornered Elizabeth, his hands gently holding her shoulders as if to anchor her in place.
"We can't go on like this," Will told her, his voice dangerously close to breaking.
Elizabeth regarded him for a moment with her haunted eyes. "I know," she said sadly. She broke eye contact, saying softly, "everything will be fine once we get Jack back."
He recoiled from her as if burned. "You love him," he said accusingly. "Admit it."
Elizabeth simply looked at him, her eyes swimming with tears. Will turned away in disgust.
"I saw you kiss him, Elizabeth."
She remained silent, staring out into the sea, the salty breeze whipping her unkempt hair about her face. A sudden spray of water sprinkled them as a wave crashed against the hull. Elizabeth parted her mouth as a few drops found her lips. She closed her eyes. The taste reminded her of Jack.
"I don't know," she said after his retreating back. He made a small sound of disdain, then, changing his mind, turned around.
"I love you, Elizabeth," he whispered, his voice almost pleading now. "And I know you love me too. I.. I understand that you're feeling sad, and that you owe him something. But please, Elizabeth, please don't do this to us…"
Elizabeth shook her head slowly. "I can't do this, Will. Not now."
A hardened glint appeared in Will's eyes. "When Jack's back then."
She regarded him for a moment. "I'm so sorry…" she whispered, turning away.
"Well then, Miss Swann, I'll leave you to figure that out." He tipped his hat sardonically at her.
And that, as they say, was that.
The air gradually turned colder as they descended towards their destination. While Barbossa was no doubt an apt captain and navigator, he refused to disclose any information that seemed more than necessary to the crew concerning their whereabouts. For a while Gibbs and a few others swore they could still tell at night, by way of the north star, but eventually he too conceded that they were hopelessly lost, if not for Barbossa of course.
"How close are we?" Elizabeth questioned, coming to stand side by side with the captain. She hugged a thick woolen coat tight to her small frame and her feet were bundled in any extra materials she had managed to find. Will had in fact given her the coat but he had said naught but a grunt since their confrontation. Their only other interaction consisted of Elizabeth catching Will watching her several times from across the deck, a strange and unreadable expression settled on his features.
Barbossa glanced at her and chuckled. "Oh, we be close in distance, Miss Swann. However it is how far you will go that be the determination of our success."
"What are you talking about?" she asked hesitantly. Thus far Tia Dalma had been maddeningly vague concerning what obstacles were to be faced in their rescuing of Jack. Aside from vicious cold and occasional stormy seas, nothing a sailor would consider out of the ordinary had occurred.
He looked ready to reply but seemed to think the better of it and closed his lips, the grin never leaving . "I would think all your books would've told ye. I seem to remember ye comin' onto my ship and quotin' the Code to me in our first meetin'."
"A time I'd rather forget," she snapped.
"Would ye now?" Barbossa raised an eyebrow. "The truth of the matter is, if not for me and my oh-so-murderous ways, ye would have never left Port Royal, Mr. Turner would have never felt the need to release a certain pirate from jail, and further events would have therefore never ensued. Shall I continue?"
Elizabeth scowled. However she'd like to admit it, there was truth and logic to his words. "You never answered my question, Captain Barbossa," she continued after a moment.
"A thing left unsaid is a thing that ye won't be worryin' about until it need be worried about. In other words, I won't be tellin' ye."
Clenching her fists in frustration, Elizabeth leaned over the frozen railing and watched the ice cracking and giving way beneath the ship. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Barbossa saunter away, the monkey screeching suddenly and dropping to his shoulder as he moved. It seemed thoroughly unaffected by the cold. Must be an advantage of being undead, she thought ironically.
The thought instantly sent her mind back to its usual path. For a near month they had been sailing now. A month spent in frustration and a constant darkness as to what tasks were to come. More than once she had wondered if Tia Dalma could be tricking them, but, as Jack could as well, Elizabeth easily saw through people and their true intentions. She could find no reason why Tia Dalma would have lied completely. Did she have ulterior motives? No doubt, but whatever she could offer, for whatever reason, was the only option at the moment and therefore the only available course of action.
Elizabeth rolled her shoulders and squeezed her fingers and toes in and out. The movement sent prickles up and down her body, but such small discomforts had ceased to bother long ago. She mentally replayed her conversation with Barbossa, recalling especially his odd answer to her first question. Close in distance, yet depending on her? Seemingly on its own accord, her hand reached for an area over her heart, grasping in vain for the locket that had once hung there for years. It was, after all, what had started it all. Barbossa had been right, if not for events which had been set in motion in years prior, her life would have taken a decidedly different course.
Elizabeth shivered as the wind picked up, howling eerily. She wrapped her coat tighter around her body, noting with a slight pang of regret how much it smelled like Will. She truly did miss him, yet her penance demanded solitude.
She jumped slightly as sudden footsteps alerted her to a person's arrival. It was Tia Dalma, a slight cloak draped over her shoulders which hardly seemed adequate to stave off the biting cold. She seemed oddly unaffected, however, grinning mysteriously at Elizabeth's initial discomfiture.
"You be thinking' about what be waitin' for you at world's end?" She asked, holding out a small mug of something to Elizabeth. Seeing Elizabeth's questioning look, she said, "for da cold."
Elizabeth took it gratefully, murmuring her thanks. Whatever the drink was, it was warm, and she shivered in ecstasy as the liquid warmth coursed through her cold body.
"Yes," she said after a moment, feeling it much easier to talk without her teeth chattering incessantly. "No one's telling me anything, as it is."
"Don't you be worryin' none about dat. Now tell me once again," she purred, her blackened mouth pursed once more into a grin. "How far will you be willin' to go for witty Jack?"
"Why?" Elizabeth asked suspiciously.
"Just answer da question. We be nearin' world's end, and our success is entirely up to you."
"How?" Elizabeth asked, frustration creeping into her voice. "And this is the second time in so many minutes that I've been told that the outcome is up to me. If that's true, then I think I deserve to be told exactly what I must do."
"Soon," Tia Dalma answered, the word bordering on harsh. Her features softened, and she grinned once again. "Just answer da first question."
Elizabeth was silent for a moment, gazing at the sinking sun. "I'll do whatever it takes to rescue Jack," she said softly. She then stood up completely, straightening her spine to stand at her full height. "There, I answered your question. Now it's your turn."
"This was never bein' on your terms, Miss Swann. But," she shrugged almost coquettishly, "it is time I be tellin' you."
Cloaked in shadow, Will listened curiously to the exchange between Elizabeth and Barbossa, and moments later, between Elizabeth and Tia Dalma. What possible reason could they have for keeping, not only Elizabeth, but everyone else in the dark as well? And how could rescuing Jack depend solely on her when it had been necessary for all of them to transverse the globe to this forbidden place?
Will's eavesdropping had not only aroused suspicion, a suspicion that many now held, but also a growing fear in the pit of his stomach. Not for his own safety, that was lain forfeit long ago, but fear that Elizabeth was indeed telling the truth. For whatever deed Tia Dalma was readying to ask of her, she would do it. He was sure of it. Will lowered his eyes and examined the ice-crusted planks. His thoughts turned dark and his mood, so often cantankerous these days, worsened. Elizabeth had saved him before, and he her, but would she go this distance for him? That bothered Will more than anything. He didn't know. They were technically still to be married, and he didn't know if she would.
But she would for Jack. For Jack, she would do anything.
As the dark blanket of night overtook them slowly, Tia Dalma summoned the entire crew to the deck. The sea remained eerily still while they straggled together, huddling for warmth and glancing uneasily at the candles Tia Dalma and her island companions had set about the ship. At any moment, one could wobble off balance and set forth an inevitable blaze that would engulf the entire ship within moments and leave them fated to freeze to death in the waters below.
Will stayed fastened to the shadows, now set deep by the moon's faint lunar glow while Elizabeth sat uneasily on a barrel nearby, not far from Captain Barbossa and Mr. Gibbs. The ghostly light of the small flames didn't fail to reach any one person but it seemed not to affect any so much as Elizabeth. The flickering candles cast haunted images across her sharp ashen features, periodically illuminating her dark eyes which appeared to be the only thing truly alive about her lately. While others were dull from cold and hunger, Elizabeth's shone brighter than they had in weeks as Tia Dalma prepared to at last reveal what lay ahead in their journey.
Once Barbossa have a nod confirming every person's presence, Tia Dalma sank to the deck cross-legged and began to hum softly. Her eyes rolled back in her skull and she raised her arms above her head, humming increasing in volume until it became a recognizable tune.
Though Elizabeth had never heard it before, it sent shivers down her spine and gooseflesh appeared on her arms as other crew-members tenderly joined in, forming an unearthly chorus of voices that seemed capable of raising the dead itself. The volume continued to increase. Gibbs and a few other sailors looked thoroughly frightened now but no one dared move or utter even a murmur of sound. Suddenly Tia Dalma's hands dropped and all was silent.
The wind whistled through the sails overhead and waves gently lapped against the hull but no other whisper of sound was to be heard for several moments.
Tia Dalma opened her eyes. Where dark orbs normally sat appeared two milky white orifices. Several people gasped and physically drew backwards. Another screamed. Elizabeth and Will leaned forward, both mouths agape, while Gibbs crossed himself but kept his composure. They would later say that Barbossa was too stunned to move but in reality the corner of his mouth raised in a slight smile.
"Why are you here?" the voice that emitted from the entranced woman's body was neither decidedly male or female. In fact it seemed to be several voices all at once, however impossible that seemed.
Barbossa leaned towards Elizabeth and whispered warningly, "You best be answerin', Miss Swann. They don't appreciate to be kept waitin'."
Swallowing, Elizabeth replied as strongly as her trembling nerves would allow. "We're here to rescue Captain Jack Sparrow from Davy Jones' Locker."
The voices seemed to consider this briefly. "Why should we allow you to take one of our souls? He is where he belongs."
With a pang, Elizabeth realized that the entity, whatever and whoever it was, had just mentioned Jack. "Because," she started, " because he was unjustly killed and it was not his time. There are many people here who want him back."
Tia Dalma's teeth bared in a feral snarl. "You do not tell us when it is or is not someone's time!"
Elizabeth lowered her head, but didn't take her eyes away. "Forgive me," she paused for a moment, hoping she had not offended the entity beyond repair. "Will you allow Jack to return to this world then?"
Several long moments passed before any response came. And when it did, it was not what Elizabeth, or anyone had been expecting. "Only one who truly wants a soul back can transcend."
"What do you mean?" she asked hesitantly.
"Only one may enter our realms. One who encompasses naught but a pure reason for retrieving the soul. You may not enter if you need the soul. You may only enter if you want the soul. If one enters who is not pure, they will be trapped forever."
"How-?"
The voices raised in volume again. "We will not remain any longer. This vessel is not unfamiliar with these rules but she did right to consult us of your presence first. May your journey be enlightened."
Though confused by this last statement, it was too late to ask anything further as Tia Dalma suddenly flung her head backwards and shook violently for a moment. When she slowly raised herself up her eyes had returned to normal.
"What did that all mean?" Will stepped forward for the first time, glancing at Elizabeth in concern, who seemed still a bit out-of-sorts.
"I heard no riddles or rhymes," Barbossa remarked with a slight roll of his eyes. "Surely, Mr. Turner, ye have got a few more brains than yer late father did."
No one there but Will and Elizabeth knew of Bootstrap's currently dark fated existence. Will clenched his fists but ignored the jest and said nothing.
Tia Dalma rose steadily to her feet, apparently unaffected by the mysterious presence that had overtaken her body only minutes before. "It mean," she started, "that only someone who truly want darlin' Jack back can be goin' to get him."
"But I don't understand," Gibbs protested, "We all want the Captain back or else we wouldn't be here." He looked around at the crew and they all murmured their agreement. Tia Dalma shook her head.
"No. You all need him back. Wheder it be for your own sad hearts or for more selfish reasons." She made brief eye contact with Will for a moment before looking away. "Only one here truly want him back for no udder reason den to have him back" This time her gaze strayed to and landed on Elizabeth. "Only one here truly know Jack."
Gibbs chimed in again, "Well, since Captain Barbossa here has known Jack the longest then it should be him who goes." Once again, a few people including Pintel and Ragetti voiced their agreement.
"No."
Will closed his eyes as Elizabeth came to her feet. He'd known it was coming but a small part of him had continued to hope she wouldn't do it. Whatever it was.
"No," she said louder, her voice gaining confidence. "I'm going."
Tia Dalma eyed her knowingly. "And what makes you so sure dat you are da one to bring him back?"
"My reasons are my own," Elizabeth replied softly, purposefully averting her eyes from Will's direction. "Now tell me what I have to do."
Author's Note # 2: Coming up next: A well-known character dies (well, sort of…its complicated, to quote J.K. Rawling).
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