AN: Wow, I really appreciate all the reviews on this piece, people seemed to think I did a good job with Barbossa. He was hard to do. I truly hope I got a likeable Elizabeth in this. I do love her character and though I tend to be a WillxJack shipper, I hate it when Elizabeth is made to be a bitch. And I think that even though you have money, feelings of jealously can arise. Richies aren't perfect, some just want to achieve on their own and not have it handed to them. Others enjoy that. But I shouldn't rant about that, the world ain't perfect. I just want understandable!Elizabeth and not bitch!Elizabeth.
Dedication: To Norah! The Goddess of Imaginary (I heart Evanescence okay?) and of Imagery. She came up with this idea for the Moulin Rouge fandom and has generously allowed me to write a Pirates Version. So I think you all should read her version, Seven, her ff.net name is Black Tangled Heart. She is the most awesome writer in the world. Though she is under the foolish impression that I am better. Modest nay?
And without any further adieu......
The Sea and the Sin
Part 2: Elizabeth
------------------------------------
Even as a child, I looked at everything with appraising eyes. Were these goods, foods, and people, fit for me. Now I do not wish for people to think of me as some upper-society ninny, but I just always viewed the world that way.
With an attitude like that, no wonder I always was given the best.
I was the woman of the estate, after mother passed away from the wasting disease. And along with that role, came the confinement that the socialites thrived on.
But not me.
My judging eyes always found the most suitable items for me, though they couldn't always be mine.
At a young age, barely after my mother's body was laid to rest and father was named Governor of some distant port town in a mysterious expanse of water known only as the Caribbean, that I found something that I wanted more than ever.
An adventure. Preferably with pirates involved.
Every story that I have read depicts these men as drunken clever fools, with hearts of steel and a will of iron. They sail upon green, foamy waves in search of buried treasure.
It sounded oh so exciting in those pages. I want that for me.
On that crossing to Port Royal, I met Will Turner for the first time. He had what I had often dreamed about.
It was the first time I had felt that stab of jealously. It was a peculiar feeling, like a gripping of my heart and throat, burning its way up to my mouth like a stream of bile.
I believe that was the underlying reason why I took that pirate medallion from him. It has been gathering dust now, but I think I took it so that I could have a small part of an imagined adventure with imaginary pirates. The cool medal felt like a salve to the bile envy.
You see, I was given everything that I wanted. But when I would achieve my goal of attaining whatever it was that I wanted, I'd soon grow tired of it and I would soon find myself coveting something different.
It was a vicious, never ending cycle.
When I wasn't envying others possessions, I'd find myself envying their lot in life.
What's so bad about being the Governor's daughter, one would ask. The answer would be in the question. Being the Governor's daughter was the bad thing. I may be rich and can buy whatever it is that I want to buy, but I cannot do anything outside my station.
I resent everyone, with their normal, simple lifestyles.
That woman who runs the bakery, it was last year's scandal that she left her husband, but it was soon forgotten in favor for her delicious baggets imported from France, (even though the townsfolk still supported the Crown in their collective hatred of the French) But can anyone see the big picture here? The difference between that woman and I? I am one of a higher station. No matter what was wrong with my future husband, if I did not love him or he would find a whore from the alleys more desirable than I, or even if he raised his hand in anger against me, I could not leave him. It just wouldn't be allowed with my status.
That is just not fair!
Oh how I wish I could just run a small café or flower shoppe, let my creativity flow into my work, then I believe I could be happy. That would be an adventure in itself, though if lacking the pirates.
And Will. I seriously entertain the idea that he holds some manor of feelings for my person. As do I for him. But here is where that hot bile rises up into my throat when I think of him. He is allowed to hold those thoughts about me; he can keep me on his pedestal. But I CANNOT! I cannot think of him as more than a dear friend, or even as a man. It would be to unseemly for a woman of my title to do so.
All these things, and other smaller incidents cause this swirling mix of confusion in my mind. I know that I am feeling jealous, but I cannot allow my jealously to force me to hate that baker woman without truly knowing her, or my dear Will. My reviewing eyes can not see this emotion, and it waxes and wanes, never consistent. It is palpable at times and just a candle flicker at others. I'd assume that if it were to have a color, then it would be a noxious green. Poisonous.
But I deal with it everyday. Even today it wells up as I wince and watch my two servants lace up my new dress, direct from London. These two women have relatively comfortable uniforms on and they both don't dread the thought of an offer of impending marriage from someone that I know I do not love.
I envy their free will.
I envy Will's heart.
I envy my father's gender.
I envy the Commodore's conviction.
And staring down at the medallion that now is tucked between my breasts and hidden beneath the lace shift, rigid corset, and decorated dress, I envy the pirate's life.
It is truly like that song that I made up to entertain myself on the three month crossing to Port Royal, after all my pirate books were read...
"Yo ho, yo ho.........a pirate's life for me........."
Dedication: To Norah! The Goddess of Imaginary (I heart Evanescence okay?) and of Imagery. She came up with this idea for the Moulin Rouge fandom and has generously allowed me to write a Pirates Version. So I think you all should read her version, Seven, her ff.net name is Black Tangled Heart. She is the most awesome writer in the world. Though she is under the foolish impression that I am better. Modest nay?
And without any further adieu......
The Sea and the Sin
Part 2: Elizabeth
------------------------------------
Even as a child, I looked at everything with appraising eyes. Were these goods, foods, and people, fit for me. Now I do not wish for people to think of me as some upper-society ninny, but I just always viewed the world that way.
With an attitude like that, no wonder I always was given the best.
I was the woman of the estate, after mother passed away from the wasting disease. And along with that role, came the confinement that the socialites thrived on.
But not me.
My judging eyes always found the most suitable items for me, though they couldn't always be mine.
At a young age, barely after my mother's body was laid to rest and father was named Governor of some distant port town in a mysterious expanse of water known only as the Caribbean, that I found something that I wanted more than ever.
An adventure. Preferably with pirates involved.
Every story that I have read depicts these men as drunken clever fools, with hearts of steel and a will of iron. They sail upon green, foamy waves in search of buried treasure.
It sounded oh so exciting in those pages. I want that for me.
On that crossing to Port Royal, I met Will Turner for the first time. He had what I had often dreamed about.
It was the first time I had felt that stab of jealously. It was a peculiar feeling, like a gripping of my heart and throat, burning its way up to my mouth like a stream of bile.
I believe that was the underlying reason why I took that pirate medallion from him. It has been gathering dust now, but I think I took it so that I could have a small part of an imagined adventure with imaginary pirates. The cool medal felt like a salve to the bile envy.
You see, I was given everything that I wanted. But when I would achieve my goal of attaining whatever it was that I wanted, I'd soon grow tired of it and I would soon find myself coveting something different.
It was a vicious, never ending cycle.
When I wasn't envying others possessions, I'd find myself envying their lot in life.
What's so bad about being the Governor's daughter, one would ask. The answer would be in the question. Being the Governor's daughter was the bad thing. I may be rich and can buy whatever it is that I want to buy, but I cannot do anything outside my station.
I resent everyone, with their normal, simple lifestyles.
That woman who runs the bakery, it was last year's scandal that she left her husband, but it was soon forgotten in favor for her delicious baggets imported from France, (even though the townsfolk still supported the Crown in their collective hatred of the French) But can anyone see the big picture here? The difference between that woman and I? I am one of a higher station. No matter what was wrong with my future husband, if I did not love him or he would find a whore from the alleys more desirable than I, or even if he raised his hand in anger against me, I could not leave him. It just wouldn't be allowed with my status.
That is just not fair!
Oh how I wish I could just run a small café or flower shoppe, let my creativity flow into my work, then I believe I could be happy. That would be an adventure in itself, though if lacking the pirates.
And Will. I seriously entertain the idea that he holds some manor of feelings for my person. As do I for him. But here is where that hot bile rises up into my throat when I think of him. He is allowed to hold those thoughts about me; he can keep me on his pedestal. But I CANNOT! I cannot think of him as more than a dear friend, or even as a man. It would be to unseemly for a woman of my title to do so.
All these things, and other smaller incidents cause this swirling mix of confusion in my mind. I know that I am feeling jealous, but I cannot allow my jealously to force me to hate that baker woman without truly knowing her, or my dear Will. My reviewing eyes can not see this emotion, and it waxes and wanes, never consistent. It is palpable at times and just a candle flicker at others. I'd assume that if it were to have a color, then it would be a noxious green. Poisonous.
But I deal with it everyday. Even today it wells up as I wince and watch my two servants lace up my new dress, direct from London. These two women have relatively comfortable uniforms on and they both don't dread the thought of an offer of impending marriage from someone that I know I do not love.
I envy their free will.
I envy Will's heart.
I envy my father's gender.
I envy the Commodore's conviction.
And staring down at the medallion that now is tucked between my breasts and hidden beneath the lace shift, rigid corset, and decorated dress, I envy the pirate's life.
It is truly like that song that I made up to entertain myself on the three month crossing to Port Royal, after all my pirate books were read...
"Yo ho, yo ho.........a pirate's life for me........."
