Tangled, beaded, black hair. That was all she could see. All she would let
herself see. Because much as she might be interested in this man, he wasn't
hers to have. He was no one's to have. As a pirate, he belonged to all and
none, living a life of ultimate freedom.
She had been interested in pirates for as long as she could remember. Her mother, while she lived, used to joke that perhaps the pirate was in her blood. "Our Liz will become a pirate one day," she used to laugh. "And be the most notorious scallywag of the Spanish Main."
She had loved hearing that, loved believing that she could one day be a pirate. And when her father said "Don't encourage it, dear," she and her mother had simply smiled at each other. They knew that she would always be interested, and that her mother would always support it, or so it seemed.
But when her mother died, the fun had stopped. For a time. And then came the crossing to Port Royal.
The weather was just right for a pirate's song, and she couldn't resist The sailors smiled at her, as she sang, chuckling at the child who thought herself to be acting so much like a pirate. Her father clearly noticed, but said nothing.
On the day they discovered Will, no sailors smiled. The fog was eerie, and sudden. When she sang, she received glares and worried glances instead of the usual smiles. So she had moved away to be by herself, and been startled by Mr. Gibbs. He had never enjoyed her singing, and especially not that day. And her father had once again begun his protests against her interest in piracy.
Taking the medallion was the most daring thing she had ever done in her life. Until now, of course, And seeing the Pearl just after getting the medallion...well, her interest had revived itself with a flourish. She researched everything she could, but she never found anything on the medallion, and the stories of the Black Pearl seemed too fanciful to be true. So she had convinced herself that perhaps the medallion had nothing to do with pirates. But by the time she had decided this, it was far too late to give it back to Will.
Will. He had the medallion now, of course. And she knew the history of it, and knew that it had indeed been the Pearl that she had seen years ago. But the knowledge wasn't helpful. Instead, it was sending Will to his death.
And that was why she could not look at Jack Sparrow. Why she could not admire the sun-darkened face, the warm eyes and teasing smile. The agile body that moved as though Jack were drunk, when she suspected it was mostly an act. Jack probably had a high tolerance for rum by now, and so it would not affect his walk.
She was intrigued by him, that she would admit. But much as she would like to claim him as hers forever, he would not stay. And the man who would, her other pirate, was on his way to death.
Pirates belonged to no one. Will was not hers, Jack was not. Neither would ever be. One because his life would soon end, and the other because he could not be chained.
She had been interested in pirates for as long as she could remember. Her mother, while she lived, used to joke that perhaps the pirate was in her blood. "Our Liz will become a pirate one day," she used to laugh. "And be the most notorious scallywag of the Spanish Main."
She had loved hearing that, loved believing that she could one day be a pirate. And when her father said "Don't encourage it, dear," she and her mother had simply smiled at each other. They knew that she would always be interested, and that her mother would always support it, or so it seemed.
But when her mother died, the fun had stopped. For a time. And then came the crossing to Port Royal.
The weather was just right for a pirate's song, and she couldn't resist The sailors smiled at her, as she sang, chuckling at the child who thought herself to be acting so much like a pirate. Her father clearly noticed, but said nothing.
On the day they discovered Will, no sailors smiled. The fog was eerie, and sudden. When she sang, she received glares and worried glances instead of the usual smiles. So she had moved away to be by herself, and been startled by Mr. Gibbs. He had never enjoyed her singing, and especially not that day. And her father had once again begun his protests against her interest in piracy.
Taking the medallion was the most daring thing she had ever done in her life. Until now, of course, And seeing the Pearl just after getting the medallion...well, her interest had revived itself with a flourish. She researched everything she could, but she never found anything on the medallion, and the stories of the Black Pearl seemed too fanciful to be true. So she had convinced herself that perhaps the medallion had nothing to do with pirates. But by the time she had decided this, it was far too late to give it back to Will.
Will. He had the medallion now, of course. And she knew the history of it, and knew that it had indeed been the Pearl that she had seen years ago. But the knowledge wasn't helpful. Instead, it was sending Will to his death.
And that was why she could not look at Jack Sparrow. Why she could not admire the sun-darkened face, the warm eyes and teasing smile. The agile body that moved as though Jack were drunk, when she suspected it was mostly an act. Jack probably had a high tolerance for rum by now, and so it would not affect his walk.
She was intrigued by him, that she would admit. But much as she would like to claim him as hers forever, he would not stay. And the man who would, her other pirate, was on his way to death.
Pirates belonged to no one. Will was not hers, Jack was not. Neither would ever be. One because his life would soon end, and the other because he could not be chained.