Disclaimer: Yes! I own Will and Jack and Elizabeth and Barbossa and even the Black Pearl! (But only in my mind). It felt so good to say that. Remorsefully, I will only ever own Pirates of the Caribbean – and Will – in my dreams. Good night.

Author's Notes: Thank you so much for our ten fantastic reviews! You guys honestly have now idea how much reviews mean to us. Six reviews in two days – not that bad, really. Keep them coming! I'm not exactly sure how this fic is going to turn out since Courtney knows more about it than I do, but continue to review to let us know what you think. A story is nothing without its reviewers!

To answer your question from your review, fencingbabe7, the Gods Courtney put into this story are actual Aztec Gods. She's done research on them on the internet. I do believe she'll be writing the next chapter and will answer the rest of your questions then.

This chapter is written in a different POV than the previous two and also in a different setting. I do believe we might have some POV changes coming along soon and, if the occasion arises, they will be separated by three stars: ***.

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The Wrath of the Gods
Chapter Two: The Curse's Revelation
Written by Akalei

"To Commodore Norrington and the James!" said Lieutenant Gillette, raising his wine glass into the air. The crowd of people surrounding the long table draped in a red and white lace cloth repeated the phrase simultaneously before drinking to Commodore James Norrington.

The atmosphere was heavy with sophistication in the Port Royal Grand Hall as a room full of a hundred or so of Port Royal's aristocrats and military men raised their glasses to their mouths. Elizabeth Swann (or, more appropriately now, Elizabeth Turner), who was seated five seats from the Commodore himself, glanced sideways at Will Turner and snickered behind her goblet. Drinking to Norrington was something neither of them would have wanted to waste their time doing, but Elizabeth had been requested to attend the dinner party and convinced her father to let Will come along as well.

It had only been the day before that the HMS James, the Caribbean's latest ship marveling in speed, was completed in building. It was named after Commodore Norrington, honoring him in his glory as one of the greatest commodores Port Royal had ever seen. Elizabeth herself saw the ship gliding across the Caribbean waters and had to admit that the James could even give the Black Pearl quite a run for its money.

The room swelled with noise again as the posh guests returned to their polite chatter. Elizabeth took out her fan and swayed it back and fourth under her chin, examining her company in the midst of their conversations. As she had been feeling rather a lot lately, she considered herself trapped among the classy women and the men with powdered wigs. She was unable to confess it, of course, that she longed for adventure; preferably the type of adventure she had been involved in three years ago out on the Caribbean sea. But all the people she knew and loved, principally her father, had pushed her into a routinely existence she did not wish to be part of. Elizabeth yearned for the freedom that Jack Sparrow had talked about that night on the beach so long ago. She wanted freedom to do what she wanted, go where she pleased, and, looking down at her own stylish dress, wear what she desired. Quite recently, she had been required to be present at dinner parties, town meetings, balls, and any other sort of sorry excuse for a tedious night Port Royal could come up with. If her newly formed requirements weren't enough, many of her passions and pastimes were beginning to vanish from exclusion, too. Elizabeth was forbidden to travel down to the market without the company of a maid. She was unallowed to sail with the sailors out into the ocean as she had done countless times before. She had been banned by the Royal Navy and her father to visit the docks, for the reason that "odd characters were in attendance at the docks and, therefore, that was no place for a lady." Rubbish, Elizabeth thought to herself. The port is a perfectly safe location and they know it. I'm a grown woman with my own family. I can take care of myself. The one thing that could not be eliminated from her life, however, was the one thing she cared for most – Will.

They had only been wedded for a year and a half, but to Elizabeth, it seemed like a lifetime. Nothing in the world made her happier than the memory of the day when she and Will were married in front of all Port Royal. They wanted to make their undying love for each other known to each citizen throughout the whole town. They were no longer "Elizabeth and Will"… they were now "the Turners." The Turners, Elizabeth thought while sighing. The start of a family. A pleasant smile spread across her face.

"What are you smiling at?" Will asked from his seat beside her. Elizabeth's head snapped up to look into the adoring, caring face of her husband. Her smile only grew.

"Nothing. Just thinking," she answered.

Will was silent for a moment before speaking again. "You know what I was thinking?" he asked, a mischievous grin washing over his face.

Elizabeth couldn't suppress another smile as she shook her head.

Her husband glanced at the luxurious, crystal chandelier hanging in the center of the room. "I was thinking how much this alleged party would enliven if that were to drop and shatter."

"Will!" Elizabeth scolded in a sharp breath, swiveling her head around to ensure no one had heard Will's secret wish. "As amusing as that would be –" she couldn't help but collapse into a fit of giggles before recomposing herself "– I hardly believe that's the proper thing to plague upon our dull revelry."

"It would raise some spirits around here," Will muttered, nodding towards several stuffy women mingling with Norrington, who wore a look of flattery.

"That chandelier cost thousands of pounds, William Turner, and here you sit, pining for it to fall and destroy the party?" Elizabeth exclaimed in a low whisper, pretending to be outraged. "Not even to mention the irreparable damage that would be done –"

"I love it when you're angry," Will murmured into Elizabeth's ear. She suddenly stopped and glared at him with what was intended cruelty but Will merely grinned impishly. Vulnerable to her husband's charm, Elizabeth dropped her fierce tone and sniggered.

"Though why I let you drag me to this tiresome celebration, I'll never know."

Elizabeth was thoroughly delighted that Will broke through her thoughts and disturbed her worries. She had promised herself many times that she would not concern her husband with her petty qualms as well. So, with much strength, Elizabeth pasted a strong grin on her face as Will helped her up to a dance. The tune was slow, as were all the others, and unable to stop herself, Elizabeth found her mind wandering back to the past again while she clasped her hands in Will's at the same time.

It had been three entire years since their escapade at sea. Elizabeth would never forget it, any of it. Some of it she wished she could relive over and over while other parts came back to haunt her in her wildest dreams. No one in Port Royal had seen hide or tail of the Black Pearl crew, including Captain Jack Sparrow, in the three year time span, either. It was almost a ritual for Elizabeth to wonder where in the world the crazy pirate she and Will had both come to admire was now. Sometimes she even questioned his existence still and, on more than one occasion, she found herself asking her husband whether or not it had all been a dream. Whatever the answer to her many questions, Port Royal had been quiet for some time - perhaps too long, even.

"… music could put a dead man asleep, and the food's absolutely tasteless," Will was saying. Elizabeth was knocked back to reality soon enough to realize he was listing off the many problems of Norrington's celebration. In a desperate act to show Will she had not been ignoring him, Elizabeth countered, "I found it delicious."

"The food? It's horrid. The metal in my blacksmith's shop would taste better than the roast they served," he muttered. Elizabeth shook her head, not even daring to question her husband's sanity.

The music provided by Port Royal's well-respected orchestra ended to courteous applause only to be followed by another tune rather similar. With a sigh of squashed hope, Elizabeth put her arms around Will's neck to dance once again.

"Maybe we should take a walk," Will suggested. "You look flustered. Are you warm?"

No, I don't want him to notice! Elizabeth thought anxiously. "I'm quite fine, thank you," she said with fake exuberance. Will furrowed his brow with obvious concern and was about to contradict Elizabeth's objection when the door to the Hall flew open.

Everyone swiveled to see a Royal Navy officer standing in the doorway. It was a windy night, Elizabeth noted, and the strong breeze blew in, scattering napkins and plates around the tables. A small tinkling above their heads caused her to look up and see the grand chandelier swaying from side to side. Many women clamped their hats to their heads as the officer spoke with apprehension.

"Sir!" he called, his voice ringing through the still hall. Norrington pushed his way to the front of the room to face the young solider. "She's gone!"

"Who's gone, Mr. Smith?"

"Your ship, sir! The James has gone missing!"

A collective gasp pervaded the room. Norrington's facial muscles tightened at the knowledge of his beloved missing ship. "I'm sorry, Commodore, she wasn't under guard and –"

"And why wasn't she under guard?" Norrington asked in a low yet effective voice.

"Because everyone was at your celebration, sir," squeaked the Royal officer, wincing against the strong wind at his back. Elizabeth glanced upwards once more to see the chandelier swinging dangerously about.

Low mutters burst out in groups around the room. Norrington moved into a heated discussion with several soldiers to his right while the tense man who had reported the news turned to shut the door. With the force of the wind pulling against the door, the door slammed shut with a deafening BANG, followed by a soft tinkling.

"It's going to fall!" screamed a woman from the center of the room. Elizabeth whirled around to see people hurling towards the walls as the imposingly glorious chandelier detached from the ceiling and plummeted to the floor. It landed with a sickening crash, sending pieces of broken glass soaring across the room. Everyone shielded their faces with shrieks and Elizabeth could feel Will's arm protectively covering her head as he pushed her to the floor.

Shocked faces reappeared seconds later to find the once magnificent chandelier now in a shambles on top of the table. Elizabeth's father edged towards the chandelier, looking as if he had just lost an important family member.

Will's mouth was by her ear again and she heard him whisper, "I think now would be a good time for a walk." Before she could protest, Will had taken her arm and begun to drag her out of the Hall. They slipped out the doors and into the cool night air unnoticed to find that the wind had considerably calmed down.

"It fell," Elizabeth said, as stunned as anyone. "How did you know?"

Will shrugged, still looking a bit dazed himself. "Mere coincidence." He shuffled his feet around a bit before muttering, "I'm sorry about what I said."

Elizabeth put her arm around his shoulder lovingly. "It's not your fault, Will. It is odd, but it isn't your fault. But what do you think happened to the James?" she asked, quickly changing the subject.

"I don't know, but I can't understand how it disappeared so quickly," Will said, furrowing his brow again. "We all saw it in the port today. Who would have taken it?"

The answer to the question silently hung in the air between them, neither of them voicing it in words. It was awfully obvious who would have wanted the James, since it was the fastest ship in the Caribbean with more deck space and guns than any other vessel.

"Well, it's evident, isn't it?"

"They haven't been to Port Royal in years, Elizabeth," Will argued. "Why would they have chosen to show up on this night of all nights?"

"The poor Commodore," Elizabeth said quietly. "They just built that ship and christened it with his name, and now it's gone missing. I think they've taken it a bit too far this time."

"No one has any proof as to where it's gone!" Will exclaimed somewhat louder than he had intended. "One of our own Royal Navy soldiers could have sailed off with it for all we know! You shouldn't assume things before you know the whole truth."

Elizabeth's shoulders slumped as she realized Will was right. She had no more evidence than anyone concerning the James, and it was rather harsh to put those as innocent as the rest until proven guilty at fault.

The clouds in the sky parted to reveal a full, bright moon. It illuminated the land like someone had flipped the switch on a flashlight, allowing Elizabeth to see with a clearer perception her surroundings. Sighing, she began, "I don't kno –" but halted immediately upon seeing the image of her husband next to her.

"Oh, my God, Will!" she shrieked, retreating away from him. Will jumped and stared at her in confusion as she pointed at him with a quavering finger. Elucidated in the moonlight, Will moved his eyes down his body, reacting in almost the same manner as Elizabeth.

Will's body had vanished. Instead in Will's spot stood a familiarly gaunt, decayed body, clothed in filthy scraps of aged clothes. He had no feeling in his body at all and felt no wind against his face. Upon the impact of seeing his own bones staring back at him, Will shouted, as taken aback as Elizabeth.

"You – you're – you look like Barbossa, Will!" Elizabeth breathed, staring at her husband in pure terror. The color drained from her face to match the shade of Will's exposed bones and she was forced to cling to a nearby tree to keep herself from falling over in a dead faint.

Will finally found his voice and asked in a cracked voice, "What happened to me?"

Elizabeth shook her head wildly, still holding tight to the tree, as she watched Will slowly step into the shadows, regaining his original body. Curiously, Will stepped back into the moonlight and watched his shape transform before his very eyes. He continued this several times until Elizabeth's fearful cry rang through the night.

"Stop it! Just stop, Will!"

Will realized she was close to tears and ended his examination of his body to rush over to her. He reached out his arms but Elizabeth stepped back from his embrace.

"It isn't contagious," Will muttered dejectedly.

"You don't know that, Will!" Elizabeth cried. "You don't know anything about this! You don't even know when it started – Will, you're cursed!"

"That explains why I thought the dinner was awful."

Giving in, Elizabeth fell forward into Will's arms, sobbing. This is awful, she thought to herself. I thought we were over with this. How could this happen? How?

But didn't you ask for adventure? countered a small voice in the back of her mind.

Elizabeth buried her face into Will's shoulder and ignored it. This isn't adventure. My husband is half dead and half alive. He can't even feel my touch. He can't feel anything.

"Did you take it?" Elizabeth whispered while still hanging onto Will.

"Take what?"

"Did you take a coin?" she asked.

Will was silent for a moment before answering truthfully, "No. I didn't."

Elizabeth pulled back and watched Will as he stepped into the moonlight again. "Then how did this happen? We've had no contact with anything of this sort in three years."

Will's fleshless face suddenly glazed over but Elizabeth did not notice. She was still muttering to herself when Will moved back into the shadows, shaking her slightly.

"– can't tell anyone, of course –"

"Elizabeth."

Elizabeth hushed herself and looked up into the eyes of her husband. She noticed it now. Even though Will appeared as himself, he wasn't. The unique glistening he always had in his eyes whenever he was looking at her wasn't there anymore. It had vanished, along with his soul.

"Elizabeth, do you know how to commandeer a ship?"

The question stunned Elizabeth. Where did that from? she silently asked herself. Slowly with much confusion, she said, "What? What has that got to do with anything, Will?"

"You're going to need to know how to commandeer a ship by tomorrow."

"What are you talking about?"

"Tomorrow we're leaving Port Royal to find some old friends, preferably the ones who took off with the James."