She'd heard about eagles, read about them, although she'd never seen one. Birds of prey that could soar majestically through the sky, wings spread to the winds, flying higher and farther than any other.
How did that feel, she used to wonder?
The fighting is furious around them. They circle the mast, hands coming together. They will do this themselves, they will not be stopped again.
"Elizabeth Swann, do you take me to be your husband?"
"I do!" she laughs out her reply.
"Great," he is almost giddy.
Separated by fighting, they come together again.
"Will Turner, do you take me to be your wife?" she smiles at him over their clasped hands.
She ducks under his arm as he continues to hold her hand in his, changing positions with him.
"In sickness and in health," he comes up behind her as she crosses swords with a barnacled crew member, stabs it as she holds their crossed blades high. He pushes it off his sword with his foot. "With health being the less likely?"
They are separated again, and when they come together, his answer is warm and firm. "I do!" She smiles.
They duck and continue to fight, as Barbossa tries to tell them repeatedly that they are husband and wife, that they can kiss. She goes high over Will's shoulder as they stab and slash.
Will leans her over his arm, his lips close to hers. She is angry and frustrated as they are pulled apart again, and she takes it out on any unfortunate Marine or crew member in her path. In the heat of battle she and Will turn to each other, blades crossing above their heads, almost killing each other. Panting, they stare at each other, eyes equally alight with an almost feral gleam.
"Just kiss!"
Fiercely, she grabs his arm and pulls him to her, and their lips meet in a caress that carries equal amounts of love and ferocious desire.
And Elizabeth at last understands how it feels to soar, like an eagle.