AN: Needless to say, I own nothing. If I did, I'd probably be writing the script to the next movie. Oh, I do own Theodora, though, so, that's it. Enjoy! (har har)

            Merry Christmas it was not. Elizabeth had been waiting for Will's return for nigh on a month. She has wasted day after day down by the waterside, hoping to catch a glimpse of billowing sails upon the horizone, but nary a canvas has been seen in some weeks. She was disheartened. Of course, her father had never been very perceptive of his daughter's emotions, and hence, she had been drafted as hostess to the Christmas ball.

            The governor's manor had been rebuilt quite nicely after the summer's 'incident', as it was widely known. Sparing no expense the governor had brought in fresh paintings and brickworkers from England, and they stripped away the battered old façade. New paint brightly taunted the common-folk from the street. Elizabeth found it  a ridiculous waste, and thought the money would have been better spent as compensation for the families of soldiers who had died, or even the families of civilians. But her ideas were taken as childish whims; flights of fancy.

            This was in part, why she was so eager for Will til return. The day she had kissed Will upon the parapet she had been so sure that things had finally sorted themselves out. No. Her father had wedged himself firmly between Will and herself, and their meetings had been few and sporadic. And terribly coincidental. However, oddly enough Norrington too had disappeared from the town it seemed, though surely that could not have been the case, for she saw him even more iregularly at formal occasions. However, neither men were here today.

            Will's reason of absence was quite well known, at least to her. Perhaps her father's foolish seperation of the two had driven him to do what he did. Make his mark on some damned paper and join the Royal Navy. To woo her back, to impress her father? She could not be sure, but whatever the reason she felt sure that in some way she was to blame. And she had no word of him, no word at all since he had sailed from Port Royal.

            The thought was disparaging, and she felt like shutting herself solitarily within the folds of her comforter upstairs, the window shut to the rolling of the waves. She also felt her father's judgmental eye resting upon her brunette coif, waiting for the slightest sign of rebellion within her.

            She looked up to see her predictions were correct. Yet before her father could sidle over to chastise her, a familiar laughter rippled from around her left ear. She turned to find herself almost nose to ear with an old aquaintance, the daughter of Phineas Lawrence. "Lizabeth, oh how lovely to see you! Oh, I've just come back from Barbados, god how provencial!" The young lady who spoke was Theodora Lawrence, a vivacious young woman who had the reputation for being friendly, chatty, and disrespectful. In Elizabeth's eyes, she was rather much, but an excellent conversationlist, a master of banter.

            "Lizzy dear, you'd never believe their manners. They  were worse far than mine even! Unbelievable yet true. And they all lacked such qualities that would endear me to one; not a witty tongue amongst them, nor a smile that was anything more than vapidly false. God for someone with a barbed tongue to talk to." Theodora's expressive face contorted in dislike, and she linked and gilded arm around Elizabeth's. "Oh forgive, me, such a rude fool I've been. Rambling on about manners when I have none myself. Please, speak if you will." They had, Elizabeth suddenly realized, began a stroll amongst the brocaded and satin-clad gentry, who were all either well engadged in conversings of their own, or in punch glasses.

            "Things here have been much the same since you left. Trust me, I would have had something happen, but it has been dreary. The same worn pattern day in and day out. It is the closest to drudgery I have ever been." Smiling faintly to herself she turned to Theodora.

            "Lizzie, you're skipping bits. What of your beau, that gainly young swain who caused such an uproar? Surely you're to be wed soon. Everyone knows that such a day will come. Every look that passed betwixt you two was one of such love." Elizabeth began to drag her feet. "Oh, Lizzie, I'm sorry, has he stopped calling on you. How terrible of me!"

            "No, no, that's hardly it." With an irratated snap Elizabeth raked her hand through her hair. She could here her hair dresser's silent scream. "Will, my beau, Will- he's joined the navy."

            "Oh, now Liz, that's fine. They look so comely in uniforms and surely this means he's decided to be a respectable lad after all. Nobody knew if he was going to-"

            "He is a respectable man. And he was not but devoted before her left, oh but Theodora, he's been gone so long."

            "Mor'n a fortnight?"
            "Twice that!" A few members of nobility glanced up from their glasses to peer critically at Elizabeth's loud comment. Her face ruddied slightly but Theodora's face melted to a mask of sympathy.

            "How frightening, oh, but I'm sure he'll be all right. Hush now, ships get caught in weather, they have to have mast heads and bow sprits mended from where they've snapped… any day now he'll sail into this port and he'll take you up in his arms and propose to you, right on the spot. Don't worry." Elizabeth looked to her fellow conversationalist and found this burst of encouragment from Theodora oddly refreshing. An unusual comment. Perhaps this meant that more unexpected things awaited. God, she prayed it did.

            They were now quite far removed from the rest of the party, near the parlor. It was quieter here, and Theodora too, had grown strangely silent.

            "What is it? Theodora, what?"

            "Liz, father's engadged me to a man. I'm so worried. God be praised, I've lived my life without a fear of anything and now I can't eat. I can't sleep. You can see I'm still quite good at talking but really I'm quaking in my frocks. I don't know why."

            "Which… which man did your father choose?"

            "James Norrington's brother. Oh blast, the man's a ruddy ass. He own's a great plantation in Barbados, yes, yes, that's why I was there. And he works his slaves to death. I can't marry a man who would kill an innocent. He spoke to me about it, sadi they were heathens, but I can't see that that matters a wit. God, God! Yes, I am a blasphemous tart but I can't help it." Watching in silence, Elixabeth worried her lip unproductively. Her friend- she supposed they might be called friends- was ranting, more than distraught. She was watching the woman straighten up herself and the flush cooled gradually from her cheeks, when there was a great hammering on the door. It came several times.

            "Won't someone be getting that."

            "It would seem, but perhaps the butler is occupied with the guests. Those lot keep him busy." With as much speed as her many skirts and stiff bodice allowed, Elizabeth went to the window that provided a vew of either side of the front entrance. To her shock and bewilderment, she saw the commodore, pounding away. "How strange." She mumbled and crept over, slowly toward the door. With a, slow, audible creak, she turn the nob and stood face to face with her used-to-be fiance. His wig was set askew and in stark contrast with his winded red face.

            "Ms.Swann, this is quite urgent, I must speak with your father."

            "Please, Commodore sit down and rest. Father's with his guests but in a perhaps a quarter hour-"

            "Elizabeth I can't spare that time. Immediate Action." He puffed out the final words in such a perplexing manner Elizabeth only dashed away as nimbly as she could. Theodora was left with, if the tales were true, her future brother in law.

            "Sit down, James, I'll get you some water. What's wrong."

            'I'm afraid this information is for the ears of Governor Swann and his daughter only. I am sure I would not divulge it to the most talkative lady in the Eastern Caribbean."

            Though his words were like a slap, the girl cocked an eyebrow and raised her shoulder, back stiffening.

            "If that's so than perhaps you would rather wait just down the end of the road, where talkative young ladies will not be bothering you. And I would suggest you treat me more courteously, as I'm about to become an influental woman."

            "In Barbados."

            Stiffening even further and brushing from the room, she swept back into the room where she was in full sight of James, flirting and laughing as though his words meant nothing. A skillfully acted sham.

            Weatherby and Elizabeth Swann rushed quickly into the room, father trailing behind daughter.

            "Norrington, what is that is so urgent? And wht is it that kept you from coming so late."
            "Sir, Miss Swann. There's been an ill report from the Voyager. I'm sure you recall- the ship your," Norrington bristled, "fiance was serving aboard. Governor, this evening around the sroke of seven a fisherman, coming in from a long voyage out to sea, came a cross a small long boat, Inside were the first mate and other crewman  who had served aboard the ship."

            "And what was this ill news, Commodore?"

            "Sir, the men were all dead. They had been for what seemed at least a week."

            "Will." Elizabeth sank to the floor in a daze, and felt the tears well behind her eyes. "Will."

            'No, Will was not among those found dead. When I first heard of it all I figured it had been a mutiny- ten or so sailors rebelling, sent to die upon the ocean with no provisions. Then Gillette had me brought to the bodies. Two of the men had slight gun wounds and a third had had his leg blasted after, I believe a cannon-"

            "Commodore, this is not an approriate conversation to hold in front of my daughter. Elouise!" The governor called forth a maid who slipped silently down the stairwell, her ghost-pale linen cap overbearing in relation to her mousy features.  "Elouise, take my daughter upstairs, make her bed ready, yes go on!"

            Creeping forward like a spirit she made to help Elizabeth stand, but Elizabeth pushed her away. "Let me be, this talk has as much to do with me as it does with anyone." Though she hardly believed her own words her convictions were strong. Bracing herself against the wall, she stood and turned to the Commodore, unbearably tragic wet paths sliding down her cheek. "Commodore." Breathing deep and regaining control. "Commodore what happened to Will's ship. What happened to those men."

            "From all that I can see of what happened, the Voyager was fired upon and she went down."