A/N: Hey guys! I'm about done with Chapter 3. Thanks for all the positive reviews, I really love them. Keep them coming if you love me! Now allow me to disconnect myself from civilization to bring you what you want...

.::.Chapter 2.::.

The first rays of sunlight peaked through the yellow curtains in Will and Alese's room. The blacksmith-turned-pirate groaned, bidding the sun to go away. He wasn't ready to wake up yet.

The sun wasn't on his side today. It pestered him, shining brighter and brighter until he got out of his bed. Pulling on some day clothes, he gently shut the door, not wanting to wake his sleeping bride-to-be, who was still tucked in in her separate bed across the room.

Will looked around the street, his insides dancing with glee at the thought of being married in a few hours.

The wedding wasn't ceremonial. There were no bridesmaids, no groomsmen. Anyone in Tortuga was welcome to come. It was perfect.

The two were to be wed by a pirate captain instead of a Priest. It was only natural to have a captain wed two lovers in Tortuga, after all. However, Jack Sparrow was not the chosen pirate. He had actually declined the offer, before it had been extended to him. He, instead, had offered to sit outside and shoo the rif-raf.

Will laughed at his friend's madness as he set off for the Black Pearl. As he stepped onto the deck, he realized that it would be his last time to do so as an unmarried man. Next time he boarded the ship, he'd have a wife.

He looked around for some sign of the other crew members, but after coming up with nothing, he went below deck.

"Aye! Mister Turner! Today be ye and Alese's special day," Pintel cheered as the others passed Will a bottle of rum.

"What's all this?" Will laughed, grasping the bottle in his hand, but not drinking.

"Aye, this be yer last celebration before ye become a whipped man, Mr. Turner," Gibbs explained, toasting the young man before taking a swig of rum.

"Aye!" echoed the others, copying Gibbs' gestures.

The distressing pirate looked at the sky. It had to be about noon, she reasoned. The sun was high in the sky, the wedding would be taking place in about five hours. She only hoped she'd make it in time.

Her heart had been aching for him ever since she became stranded on that island a year ago.

She had been pining for her love for a year. A long, lonely year, and he had moved on. Had he forgotten about her? Or worse, did he, as well as everyone else, presume she had died when they saw the crashed longboat?

That certainly would explain why no one had gone looking for her, she thought in a foul mood. The woman turned her blonde head to look at the island she was approaching. God had she had enough of islands.

It had all seemed so fool-proof when she had left to get supplies. She never even thought the approaching storm would cause bigger waves. She had been blinded. Blinded by her love for Will. Nothing had mattered except for him.

Elizabeth Swann sighed as she thought of her long eight months on that island, and how it had all started with a crashed longboat.

The waves had been steadily growing out of control as she rowed away from the ship. Waves were spilling over the sides of the small dinghy, causing the woman's calm demeanor to one of sheer panic. It had been then that she had seen the looming rocks ahead of her. The rocks that had served as a giant warning sign that told her to abandon ship. And so she did.

Standing up, Elizabeth had dived into the churning waters below her, swimming wherever the current took her, which ended up to be an island. And to her dismay, it wasn't island she intended to get supplies from.

Thus began the eight longest months of Elizabeth's life. She had fished and picked berries for meals, relied on a freshwater spring for water, and worst of all, had no one to talk to.

Once realizing that no one would be trying to find her, she began to build a boat from the trees' wood. It had taken her two months to successfully complete her task, but she had done it. Knowing that the boat was in no condition to sail all the way to Tortuga, where she had been planning to go in hopes of finding the Pearl, she had sailed to the closest port.

There, she had stolen a dinghy, a compass, a small sack of gunpowder, and some provisions. Elizabeth then left in the early morning, sailing out for her destination with even more determination than before.

It had been in that city she had heard of Will's betrothal to another woman. It had been in that city that she vowed to herself she'd put a stop to the wedding if she could.

A man with a red bandana covering his head walked idly through the streets of Tortuga. His walk, much more like a strut, conveyed the idea that he wasn't particularly sober at the moment. His beaded dredlocks swayed to and fro as he looked through the crowd of pirates, bums, and wenches.

Captain Jack Sparrow was searching for something. Something very important to him. Something he loved almost as much as his Pearl. And finally, he had found a place where he could find it.

"Rum," he requested as he sat at the bar in the pub.

"Aye," the bartender responded, turning his back to the customer and grabbing a mug and a bottle filled to the brim with rum. He turned back around, setting the mug on the dirty bar, pouring a quarter of the bottle into the mug.

Jack, however, reached for the bottle. "Thanks, mate," he said happily, grabbing the neck of the bottle and taking a long swig from it. He brought the translucent brown bottle from his lips and smacked them with pleasure. "Rum is good," he stated, more to himself more than anyone else.

The bartender simply rolled his eyes and went to the next patron.