~The Swan & the Sparrow~
Disclaimer—I own NOTHING. Nothing nothing nothing. Pretty depressing really….Plot (Well Most of it) belongs to Disney. Jack's personality, and quirky antics belong entirely to Johnny Depp (Who is a genius, extremely good looking, versatile, bloody brilliant actor…I could go on forever) and of course, as much as I wish I did, I do not own him. I don't own Will, Elizabeth, the Commodore…..bla bla bla…
AN- The title is pretty self explanatory; it will be in Elizabeth's point of view. I've only seen the movie 3 times, so if I don't get the dialogue exactly right, PLEASE feel free to correct me!
Summary- Elizabeth's POV; her feelings for Will are strong, but can other emotions override them?
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My eyelids fluttered open, and I looked frenetically around. Once sure I was safely in my own bed, and not back years ago on that ship, I took a shaky breath and sat up. My room was dim, but I could tell morning had already dawned. I closed my eyes, forcibly, and opened them reluctantly, convinced I would see the dark, ghastly ship sailing swiftly away, with aberrant speed, for calm, although gloomy, day. Memories of that day were flooding my brain, and I could not block them out. Will, his medallion, the ship, the medallion, his comely brown eyes brimming with fear, the medallion…My fingertips itched with restlessness. I wanted to feel the cold, grimy gold against my touch; trace the ominous skull over and over again. Almost in a trance, I walked over to the antique chest that held so many treasured possessions, and opened the second drawer. It slowly, although not smoothly, slid open. I carelessly removed some of my ancient memorabilia, and smiled to myself. To any other it would look like the bottom of the drawer; but I knew better. Removing the slab of wood, I stared down at it, relief filling me. It was still there. It was covered with dust, but the skull seemed to grin up at me. It had been waiting.
With tentative hands, I picked the object of both my dreams, and my nightmares up. A circle was imprinted on the dusty bottom of the drawer, along with a slim, twisting shape, from the chain I had taken from Will's neck so many years ago. Brushing it off, I began to memorize the skull, and every intricate design imprinted on the gold with my fingers. Then, slowly, I fastened it around my neck, admiring it against my nightdress in the fancy mirror next to my bed.
My father, the governor, what would he do if he knew I was wearing a pirate's medallion. I didn't know how Will got it, but wasn't about to ask him.
A knock on the door made me jump.
"Elizabeth? Are you in there?" I scrambled around, diving for my robe, knocking a chair down in the process. "Elizabeth, are you alright? Are you decent?" Finally, I tucked the medallion into my nightdress, where nothing but the elegant gold chain would be visible.
"Yes!" I cried, answering all of his questions at once. The door opened, and his head peeked in. He quickly entered, followed by the maid, and surveyed me with the loving eyes a father has for his only daughter. The maid pulled the curtains apart, and my eyes were dazzled by a brilliant morning. The sun shone onto the sparkling sea, lighting the sandy beaches, and bright bottle green palm trees that adorned them. My father held out a box he was holding,
"I have a present for you, my dear," I smiled graciously, and slowly removed the lid from the box. A beautiful dress lay there, and with awed eyes, I picked it up, appreciating the soft material against my skin.
"Oh father, it's gorgeous!" I cried, spinning around, with the dress pressed against my body, admiring the way it whirled out around me. But then I hesitated and stopped, surveying my father, with stern, but laughing eyes. "My I inquire as to the occasion?" My father's smile faltered, but he quickly regained it.
"Does a father have to have an occasion to coddle upon his daughter?" I laughed lightly, and took the dress to my changing quarters, followed by the maid. Shredding myself of my nightgown, I slipped into his present. "Actually," He began, with a clear of his throat, I smiled to myself. I had known this was coming. "I was hoping you would wear it to Norrington's promotion. Commodore Norrington ." I stuck my head out from behind the fancy dressing area.
"I knew it!" I gasped triumphantly. I saw my father smile before I pulled my head back. It wasn't a voluntary movement. The maid had given the corset strings a forcible jerk, and I sucked in my breath.
"How's it going back there?" My father asked after a few minutes, "I hear corsets are the highest fashion in England." I breathed gingerly, putting a hand to my ribs, to make sure they weren't broken.
"Girls in England must have learned not to breathe," I gasped, panting, trying to pull away from the maid.
Minutes later, I was walking down the stairs, clutching the railing for support, all grace gone from me. My lungs were screaming for air, and the little bit I was able to give them was far from satisfactory. My eyes wandered to the entrance hall, where my father was conversing with Will. My father spoke to me, but his words were drowned out. I was lost, once again, in Will's eyes. He was looking at me almost lovingly, and a shy blush was rising in his cheeks. His dark, curly hair was tied at his neck and a smile was on his lips as he looked at me.
"Will…how are you? I had a dream about you last night," These last words had spilled out of my mouth before I could stop them. Will looked immensely pleased,
"A dream…about me?" He stammered, I felt my heart flutter.
"Yes. About the day we met, you remember," It was true, but it certainly all I had dreamed about.
"How could I forget Miss Swan," He said politely. I smiled warmly at him, a smile that almost pleaded for friendship. I wanted to smash the invisible wall that always stood between us. Why did he have to be such a gentleman?!
"Will, how many times do I have to ask you to call me Elizabeth?" I was surprised at how well I could talk, the corset was cramping my insides, squeezing the breath out of me. But now I felt faint for an entirely different reason.
"At least once more," he courteously responded. I sighed inwardly.
"Good day Mr. Turner," I said, turning to the open door where I could see the carriage waiting patiently.
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The morning passed in a dizzy haze. I was only half aware of the promotion ceremony, struggling for consciousness. Each breath took an enormous amount of effort, my mind was fixed on the moment when I could rip the damn thing off, and breathe deeply again. That moment drew nearer and nearer, and just as I was going to head back to the carriage, I felt a hand gently grasp my arm. I looked up to see Commodore Norrington's handsome face looking back at me. He gestured for me to walk with him to the outdoor turret. I smiled and followed him, fanning myself vigorously.
The walk up the steps drained me of the little energy I had, and I leaned back against the rough rock wall. The commodore was talking, but I was only faintly aware of his words, until a few well chosen ones snapped me out of my daze. He was proposing. I looked at him, unable to keep the shock out of my face, but I soon settled back into a light headed trance. He was still talking. I tried desperately to concentrate on his words, but it was too much.
"I can't breathe," I gasped, before I lost consciousness.
"Yes, I know it could come as a shock…." He never stopped talking.
I came dimly back to earth then I hit the icy cold water. The force stung my back, knocking the air out of me, at least it would have had there been any air in me. The arctic water had not yet warmed up to the dawning summer weather. I had no strength to survive.
AN-It picks up, I promise!!! Besides…you all know what happens next…wink wink, nudge nudge….R and R!!!!
