A/N: I really wanted to update sooner, but you know life happens. Anyway, this one is a shorty, but I promise there is much more to come. Thank you all for reading and reviewing (would love a bit more reviewing...cough...wink...) Enjoy!

Trapped

She could only see blackness. Her eyes were open, but there was only blackness.

The ground beneath her was cold. She could feel the smooth stone against her hand, smell the mustiness of dust settling around her, but she could only see blackness.

The absence of light was deeply unsettling.

On hands and knees, she crawled very slowly, feeling her way along the floor toward the wall. Carefully getting to her feet, she ran her hand along the stones, following the length of the wall. She walked for several minutes before realizing she'd been walking in a giant circle, a giant circle that appeared to have no door or any other means of getting in or out.

Elizabeth called into the darkness once or twice asking where she was and why she was being held captive. No one answered. She called out for Jack, hoping he was on his way to spring her from her dank cell. But there was only silence and blackness. She was utterly alone.

Remembering the circumstances that led to this moment, Elizabeth began to worry if Jack or any of the rest of them were even alive. The earth had shaken with such fierce tremors, the structures surrounding them had started to collapse. It seemed as if the mountain was crumbling beneath their feet. And Jack…she remembered him collapsing to the ground, struggling to make his way toward her. What had happened to him? She thought.

Elizabeth leaned back against the stone wall and slid to the ground, hugging her knees to her chest. For a brief moment, panic started bubbling up in her gut, afraid she might actually die there in the dark, alone, but she quickly pushed the feeling out of her. If Calypso was right, and she had been so far, Elizabeth had a destiny, and it wasn't to die in a black stone hole.

So she waited.

And waited.

And waited.

It was hard to keep track of just how long she'd been stuck in her cozy little pit. She had fallen asleep at some point, but it was impossible to determine duration. Thirst and hunger had settled themselves in quite insistently, so she was certain days had passed, at least. The more time that passed the more she longed for her feather bunk, Jacks arms wrapped securely around her, and the sea rolling gently beneath them. She tried not to let her mind worry, but the image of Jack losing consciousness was burned into her brain. Sleep came again, but it was fitful and restless.

More time passed and the cold, damp air had begun to seep to her core. She tried to keep her body in motion to get the blood flowing through her limbs, but the lack of food and water and decent sleep left her energy lacking, and quickly found herself needing to sit down.

As another day ended, Elizabeth began to realize whomever was keeping her locked up was ensuring she was well and truly beaten down. Intending her vulnerable state to allow them to garner whatever they wanted from her with very little struggle.

She was determined to stay strong. Elizabeth Swann was not weak. I am not weak. She muttered to herself over and over again as she succumbed to sleep once again.

She woke to a creaking sound. A high pitched squeak. Old hinges. She lifted her head, straining to better hear the noise. Suddenly, a warm amber glow appeared above her. It emanated from an opening no bigger than the circumference of a barrel.

"Hello?" She yelled up. "Is someone up there? Jack?"

No one answered and no one appeared in the opening.

"Who the bloody hell is up there?" She yelled. "Let me out of here!"

Again, no one answered. She strained her ears again, trying to listen for any voices or other noise, but it was silent. They were taunting her. She was sure of it.

"If you're not going to let me out of here, you could at least send down some food or water." She said defiantly, refusing to sound defeated.

The amber glow disappeared and the hatch door was closed. Bugger. Her situation was becoming exceedingly more frustrating. Hope now dangled just out of reach. It wouldn't be long before she cracked up completely. No. I am NOT weak. She said again.

Just then, the hatch door opened again. The amber glow spilling into her prison. Suddenly she was no long bathed in amber as a small shadow loomed above her. Something was being lowered into her cell. A bucket?

As soon as the bucket was in reach she grabbed it. Water sloshed over the sides. Setting it on the ground, she gulped handfuls greedily. When she had her fill of the delicious liquid, she looked back toward the opening.

Realization hit her square in the face. I could climb this rope. I could get out of here.

She gave the rope a tug. It was taught, clearly tied to something. She would have to make quick work of the climb. It was at least 20 feet to the opening and at any moment they could cut her loose, leaving her hungry, thirsty, and injured.

A risk worth taking.

She made it about seven feet before the rope slackened, sending her tumbling to the floor, the remainder of the rope following suit.

"Bloody Hell." She said, getting to her feet. The hatch door was still open, but, again, no figure could be seen. "I will find a way out of here." She yelled at the opening.

Very quickly the hatch door was shut. Elizabeth turned and moved toward the wall when she tripped over the bucket of water, sending it careening across the floor.

"No." She whispered. "No. No. No. No. No. No." She pleaded, tears brimming as she searched for the bucket, hoping to salvage a few droplets.

She let out a guttural scream of frustration, and for a very brief moment considered using the rope for a different sort of way out. She wished more than ever that Jack was with her. He would know just how to keep her calm in this situation. More than likely, he would whisper encouragingly in her ear while planting soft kisses across her face. It was infuriating the way he could distract her. She chuckled, and her resolve strengthened as she imagined Jack's voice chanting her mantra.

You are not weak. You are the bloody pirate king.

The next morning, at least she assumed it was the next morning, the hatch door opened again. A second bucket was lowered into the pit. This time, Elizabeth made sure to make note of every square inch of her surroundings, taking advantage of what little light she'd been privy. Taking a look at the surrounding walls, she noticed some of the stones protruded enough for her to possibly grab hold and climb her way out.

As the bucket reached her, she peered in and practically burst into tears at the sight of food. It was a small bit of some kind of meat, but after going several days without food and very little water, she would have eaten just about anything. She yanked the bucket toward her and shoveled the offering into her mouth, all the while imagining the disgusted look on her father's face had he been alive to witness the event. Again, the rope was dropped into the pit and the hatch door was closed, leaving her in total darkness.

Once she had finished eating, she wiped her hands on her breeches and felt her way toward the wall. She tested the first few stones, gauging whether or not she could gain a foot hold. Making her way upward with moderate success, she decided to venture to the top.

She waited, to the best of her knowledge, about an hour before she started to make the climb. She wanted to make sure she was physically prepared to climb all that way, and, hopefully, give whoever was above enough time to bugger off somewhere else.

Before she started her trek, she decided to tie one of the buckets to her waist in case she should need a blunt object to hit someone with. Not the most ideal of weapons, but better to be armed with something instead of nothing, She thought.

Elizabeth began to slowly climb up the wall. Stone by stone, she inched her way further and further upward. Five feet, ten feet, fifteen feet, she was nearly there. Her arms were weak, there was no doubt about that. She had little strength to give, and it was dwindling quickly. Twenty feet and she knew she should be close to the hatch door, she prayed she was close to the hatch door. She had yet to reach the ceiling and she started to get nervous. How much further? Her arms were trembling, but she had to keep pushing. She looked up, straining her eyes, hoping to see a tiny bit of light seeping through the tiny opening, but the blackness prevailed.

In the moments she was concentrating on seeing above her, she lost her footing. She dropped a foot or so before catching herself. She clung tightly to the wall. White knuckled, she gripped with all of her might, the stones she managed to latch onto as she plummeted.

Dangling precariously, she struggled to find another stone to place her feet. She could feel her arms about to give way and forced herself not to panic. Taking one deep breath, her foot managed to find a stone to place her weight.

She took a moment to catch her breath and continued to climb.

It was another few feet before she finally reached the top of the pit. She reached above her, feeing for the wood of the hatch door. She quickly realized it was a bit farther from the wall than she had expected and would have to lean out a bit to reach it.

Carefully she leaned away from the wall, maintaining a tight grip as she reached for the door. She pushed up on the door slightly. It popped up a few inches before collapsing back down, and she breathed a deep sigh of relief that it wasn't locked. It was a gamble in itself just to make the climb, but to hope that the door would also be unlocked was a gamble of even longer odds.

She pushed the door a bit harder and it jumped into a more permanent open position. When she did, however, there was no amber glow and relief pored over her again. No one would know she was escaping. The tricky part of her great plan was actually getting the rest of her body through the opening. Somehow she was going to have to jump from the wall and grab onto the ledge of the opening, in the dark, and pull herself up. A daunting task, but there was no other alternative. She would die if she stayed put. So she felt around the opening, and determined just where she would need to place her hands, and how much she would have to push off from the wall. She would only get once chance, and she would have to use all of her remaining strength to pull herself up through the opening or else meet an even untimelier demise than starving to death.

She took a moment to steady herself, attempting to transfer the majority of her weight into her legs to give her arms a break. She inhaled deeply several times, trying to calm her mind. For all her bravery and devil-may-care attitude, she was quite nervous, but any mount of uncertainty would lead to certain failure, so she cleared her mind the best she could. After one last calming breath she reached out with one hand and pushed off from the wall with her foot. Her hand grasped the edge of the opening, followed quickly by the other. Swinging slightly, she pulled herself up with all of the energy she had left. Collapsing on the floor above the pit, she began to laugh wildly.

She lay on her back for a short while, catching her breath and steadying the rapid beating of her heart when she was very suddenly engulfed in light as several torches were lit around the chamber.

Elizabeth shot up quickly, surveying the room. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a shadow looming near her, which was soon followed by a figure stepping into the light.

"Elizabeth Swann. At last."