Chapter II-
"Call Me Elizabeth"

Elizabeth wasn't too surprised to find that she was lying in bed, safe at her lovely home in Port Royal. But still there was the nagging uneasiness of someone watching her. She couldn't help but glance over her shoulder half expecting to see a tall dark stranger or an ominous figure of Lieutenant Norrington standing on the other side of her four poster bed. But no one was. It was a dream, of course- there was no way she could've been twelve years old again in reality. She glanced at her bight table and then sat up slowly, reaching for her oil lamp. Was it just a dream and always a dream repeating itself endlessly until it felt memory, or did it really happen so long ago it felt vague and unreal as she was reliving it?

She slipped out of bed and crept to her desk, silently. With so many questions gnawing at her mind she just had to check if the medallion was real. That would end all questions. Elizabeth set the lamp on the desk and carefully opened its top drawer. She kept her journal in that desk and some old letters that she had received from good friends over the years. She gently lifted out the few contents of the drawer and set them beside her lamp on the desk. Then, feeling for its end, she stuck her hand in the drawer and pushed down on its ground. The drawer's bottom flipped up in the front, revealing a secret compartment for hiding papers. Only, this drawer didn't hide any papers.

A round spot was left on the wood as Elizabeth gingerly lifted the medallion from the drawer. One would have guessed that it had been there for a long time, as from the dust that collected on and around it, it appeared to have not been touched in years.

Elizabeth rubbed the dust off the medallion's face with her thumb. It was real. It all was real. She'd forgotten how the skull looked and found it just as intriguing as it was when she first saw it, a real pirate's medallion. The skull stared at her in an expressionless manner and the gold glinted brightly regardless of the fact that her room was dark. Looking into the mirror that hung above the desk, she clasped the chain around her neck. It was cold. She felt like she should wear it today, just for fun.

The reflection that stared back at Elizabeth was very different from who she had just seen in her dream. See, Elizabeth's dream was a replay of a real event that took place in her life, only that was eight years ago. Now, Elizabeth had changed quite a bit from what she was back then.

She still had her shimmering brown eyes and soft locks of caramel hair but there were things about her that she had either lost or gained. Her hair had grown out longer and now reached halfway down her back and curled about her shoulders lightly. She was taller and a woman now. Her face was like a painting, seemingly (or darn close too) flawless. She had natural shadows on her eyelids, her cheeks had gained a light reddish tint and her lips were far more rosy than before. Elizabeth Swann wasn't twelve anymore. She was twenty and life was taxing.

While she went about doing womanly things like attending tea parties and dressing up for special occasions, her father was busy doing one of two things: being the governor and doing everything involved with that or trying to find his daughter a suitable husband. As if having to put up with the downside of corsets and dresses wasn't enough. Elizabeth wasn't too thrilled about her father's ... concern. She felt unprepared to take on the extra role of wife. And besides, she wasn't fond of the options he laid down for her. Or, to speak more proper, she wasn't fond of the option he laid down for her.

A sharp rap broke through the silence.

"Elizabeth!"

She jumped slightly with surprise. Her father! She hadn't realized she had slept in again! She turned towards her bed and ran almost too hastily. A sharp tinge shot through her right leg as she dove for her dressing gown and her knee met her chair with a force that knocked it over. She ignored the pain and snatched her robe, sticking her left arm through one sleeve.

"Are you alright?" the governor called, obviously hearing the collision. "Are you decent?"

"Yes,' she muttered as she got her right arm through its sleeve. Sometimes she felt as if he was a bit too nosy. She looked down and realized her medallion, which still was hanging about her neck, was completely visible and shoved it under the bodice of her dress. Another rap at the door. She called louder for her father to hear, "Yes!"

Her father chuckled as he entered her bedroom, followed by two maids who swiftly went and remade Elizabeth's bed. He was older now- wearing a wig almost identical to the old except it was now a dark grey. The wrinkles on his face showed he was a good-hearted man that loved a good laugh and life, but he also was the type to stay up fretting about little things at night. "Still abed at this hour?"

Elizabeth smiled, finding it quite funny herself. While she was supposed to be up and getting dressed she was dreaming about pirates and gold. Actually, it was more or less about her first meeting with Will Turner, but an actual pirate medallion which now hung hidden under her dress was very must mingled with that meeting.

She quickly shut her eyes as one of the maids drew back the curtains and let in the piercingly bright but glorious light of Port Royal. The town was small. It would've been hard not to go around the whole thing several times by accident in one day. It was neat and well kept thanks to her father and the Navy, which had done a brilliant job of protecting its citizens from pirate attacks with the help of Fort Charles. Fort Charles sat at the top of a high cliff just off the side of the town. It was the base of the town's military, the jail and its courtyard was the location of many town-wide events, the most popular of these being the hangings that took place every month or so. The town was also lush and very green. It was so green that the townspeople had to compromise with the environment if they wanted the have their town at all. The buildings and streets were woven and mingled with the trees and streams, in such a fashion that emphasized the natural aspects of the island. Elizabeth loved the setting. She had taken many walks through the natural gardens of the island and found a lot of pleasure in doing so.

"It's a beautiful day," her father commented happily, then turned quite unexpectedly to a new subject. "I have a gift for you!"

Elizabeth jumped a bit at this news. She hadn't noticed one of the maids carrying a large white box as they entered her room. A gift? What for?

A maid walked over and lifted the box's lid. Elizabeth's jaw dropped at the sight. It was a dress. A beautiful and no doubt very expensive dress. The fabric was something similar to velvet and had white-colored flowers embroidered onto it. The over all color of it was a gold quality, except for the flowers. It was trimmed with white lace at the collar, sleeves and hem of the dress and the craftsmanship of the gown was outstanding. She took it into her arms carefully and examined it more closely.

"Oh, it's beautiful!" she soughed as she stepped to take it behind her dressing screen and try it on. She stopped after her first step, however. The thought that had been shoved out of her mind a few seconds before had happen worm its way back in. What was this gift for? She turned back to her father, "May I inquire as to the occasion?"

Her father chuckled a little bit with surprised and gave a light shrug, "Well- does a father need an occasion to dote upon his daughter?" He turned to the maids and beckoned they help Elizabeth try it with a small, "Go on."

Elizabeth smiled childishly with glee and rushed to take the dress behind the dressing screen. For a moment she had thought that her father had bought this with some kind of unwanted add-on placed upon it, but all appeared safe.

Her father, locking his hands behind his back, looked out the window at his little town. He gave a small sigh and looked down at his shoes and shuffled his feet nervously. Perhaps he should tell his daughter the truth. "Actually, I, uh…I had hoped you might wear it for the ceremony today."

"Ceremony?"

"Captain Norrington's promotion ceremony."

She peeked out from behind the screen with a look of someone who had almost been tricked but had a hunch about the plot beforehand. "I knew it!"

"Commodore Norrington … as he's about to become."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and returned back behind the screen. She should have known there was a catch, there always was. After sifting through the many suitors that had requested Elizabeth's hand in marriage, her father had found what he apparently thought to be a diamond in the rough and had been obsessing over it ever since. It was driving Elizabeth crazy.

Captain or "Commodore" Norrington was the lieutenant that had accompanied her on the trip to Port Royal eight years ago and in her dream. The problem she had wasn't that he was too old, because he wasn't. Back then, it wasn't uncommon for girls in their teens to marry thirty-year-old men. The thing that bothered Elizabeth was why couldn't her father just let the man propose rather than waste their time making her more appealing to the eye? She was beginning to tire of it a long time ago.

She gasped as her maid gave her corset strings a harsh yank and her ribs began to clash painfully together. This was her least favorite part of her wardrobe by far.

Her father frowned. Apparently, Elizabeth still had no interest in James. He'd been trying to convince her that he was a very wonderful person and would be a marvelous husband to her. "Fine gentleman, don't you think?" he attempted to sway her. "He fancies you, you know." To this she had nothing to say that was neither courteous nor kind, so she held her tongue. Of course he fancied her, why else would he woo her? Out of boredom? "Elizabeth? How's it coming?"

"It's difficult to say." Literally. Her maid gave another painful tug and Elizabeth felt all the remaining air inside her rush out and refuse to return.

"I'm told it's the latest fashion in London," Governor Swann informed.

"Well, women in London must've learned not to breathe!" she responded a bit moodily. She gasped and touched her chest by instinct as she attempted to inhale. She was going to ache horribly by the end of the day, she already could tell.

Her father rolled his eyes. Every year she was becoming more and more difficult to handle and he knew that she would be very grumpy today thanks to that blasted corset.

The butler entered the room with a bow. "Milord, you have a visitor."

A tall young man carrying a long blue box stood waiting in the foyer, observing the objects about the him silently and watching the maids and other servants go about their business. He had never been here before. He felt awkward. Everything in here was clean, new and expensive, as he looked at his old worn-out leather shoes that were caked with dirt, he could see the contrast. He tried to balance it out with an attempt at shining the top of his shoe by rubbing it on the calf of his opposite leg, but it was no good.

He had a slender and athletically shaped figure. His body was accompanied by a handsome face with intense and deep brown eyes, but they were only dark in tone, for they sparkled when he was happy (and he often was happy). His hair, which was as rich as chocolate and even darker in color, was tied back with a dark but horribly faded blue strip of a rag. He had high and attractive cheek bones and a light goatee could be seen on his chin accompanied by a small amount of hairs above his upper lip (he hadn't shaved in a few days). He wore a dark brown jacket with even darker breeches, grey stockings and, of course, those worn out brown leather shoes with no-longer-shining buckles.

Now you're probably wondering what's the deal with all the brown? I mean, brown eyes, brown hair, brown clothes, brown shoes ... what's up? Well, this young man wasn't very wealthy. In fact, he was merely a poor blacksmith from the town. So poor, in fact, that he was more than one or two classes below Elizabeth, whom he happened to know. Actually, he was a blacksmith's apprentice and truly had to depend on another to make a living.

Regardless of his rank in society, however, the governor had been very caring and kind to him throughout the years. He left him under the care of the local blacksmith and checked on him once in a while when he was young. It wasn't a very good way to teach him how to live and run his own life, but in the governor's eyes, the young man would always be a child.

That didn't stop him, though, from working hard. Ever since he came to Port Royal he looked to the soldiers and Captain Norrington for help and guidance. They were sort of surrogate father figures to him. They all knew him very well and enjoyed the visits from the fatuous little boy down the street. As he grew up, they connected in new ways and he became like a son to many of them and a brother to others.

He had many talents, most of them involving his hands or mind but, unfortunately, most of them were unrecognized. He never tried to change that or become noticed, though. Being taught by the soldiers throughout his youth, he believed strictly in following the rules and staying in line where he belonged and that was in one place: unnoticed.

Today, he had come to present the Governor with the sword he had made- the sword that was to be presented to Captain Norrington at the ceremony. Well, technically, the sword was supposed to be made by his master, he felt as thought the governor always looked down upon him as a talentless commoner from the street. So he decided to gamble at shaming himself or being able to prove himself, and maybe today was that day. The day that he could prove himself and perhaps steal a conversation with Elizabeth.

He turned and looked at a sconce on the wall. Admiring the craftsmanship, and being curious to look at the fixture thoroughly (being a craftsman himself), he reached up and touched the foremost candle. With a clap that echoed through the mansion the hold broke free of its base and he soon found himself clutching it in his hand. Hearing someone approach, he quickly and quietly set it into the umbrella pail at his feet and straightened himself as a servant passed through the foyer with a nod and a smile. He smiled and nodded back just as the governor descended the stairs.

"Ah, Mr. Turner! It's good to see you again!"

"Good day, sir," Will replied with a smile. Yes, it was Will, as in the same Will that Elizabeth saw in her dream. He was a blacksmith by trade and now twenty years of age. He set the blue box he held on a nearby table which the governor stood by. "I have your order."

He unlatched the box quickly and lifted up the lid. Inside revealed a spectacular sword.
It had a polished steel blade with a beautiful handle made of gold and of some dark wood, most likely mahogany or ebony. He cleared his throat, lifted the sword with its sheath on from the box carefully and gently placed it in the governor's eager hands, nervously awaiting his criticism.

The governor's eyes were agleam as he drew and examined the sword like a boy looking over a brand new Christmas present.

"The blade is folded steel, that's gold filigree laid into the handle," Will illustrated as the governor admired the sword.

"If I may?" Will held out his hand courteously and, after the governor granted him permission, he took the sword lightly from the governor, and laid it on the pad of his first two fingers, close to sword's the hilt. The sword tilted slightly back and forth and then sat still on Will's outstretched hand motionless. A small grin flashed and disappeared across his face, but his eyes continued to twinkle with delight and pride. "Perfectly balanced. The tang is nearly the full width of the blade."

The governor laughed delighted and slightly surprised as Will flipped the sword gracefully in the air and caught it. He gave a small bow and gave it back to the governor.

"Impressive, very impressive. Ah, now," the governor stammered as he placed the sword back in its sheath and handed it back to Will. "Commodore Norrington is going to be very pleased with this. Do pass my compliments on to your Master."

Will, who was placing the sword back in its case, froze and looked up at the governor with a slightly startled expression on his face. He quickly replaced it with a pained smile as he closed the box. "I shall. A craftsman is always pleased to hear his work is appreciated." The governor was obviously oblivious to the fact that he had put his whole heart and soul into making the sword. But the reply pleased the old man and he chuckled at Will's clever answer.

The governor and Will looked up in unison as the sound of soft footsteps coming down the stairs met their ears. Elizabeth was carefully descending the stairs, wearing the dress her father had given her. Her hair was pulled up beautifully with a lock of hair curling over her left shoulder and a fantastically flower-decorated cream hat tied on with a sash that wrapped around the back of her head. She had a necklace of pearls around her neck, matching earrings and (if no one, then very few people noticed this) the gold medallion, hidden under her dress.

"Ah! Elizabeth! You look absolutely stunning!" her father declared lightheartedly as he beamed at her. And it was no lie. Hopefully, she'd put her pride aside and be little more open to the commodore today. Will's eyebrow's shot up and he didn't realize his jaw dropped slightly. His blood ran cold as ice for a second, then warm again as a fuzzy feeling issued from somewhere inside and his stomach began to fill with what felt like mad butterflies. She was even more enchanting than ever.

She paused as she realized her father's visitor was still present. Then a wide smile spread across her face as her had unconsciously went to the medallion and she continued down the steps at a pace slightly quicker than before. "Will! It's so good to see you!"

She was happy to see him. That was good. Will tried to think a reply but all he could do was soak in her words like a dry sponge and try not to goggle too much. He wasn't doing a very good job with the goggling, but at least she didn't seem to notice.

"I had a dream about you last night," she said with a curious look on her face and a soft touch at the arm as she approached him.

"About me?" Will laughed lightly, a bit surprised.

Her father chuckled a bit uneasily. "Elizabeth, is that entirely proper for you to...."

"About the day we met, do you remember?" she asked Will completely ignoring her father.

Will smiled a little and she beamed at his reply, "How could I forget, Miss Swann?"

"Will, how many times must I ask you to call me Elizabeth?"

"At least once more, as always, Miss Swann," he answered politely with a timid nod. Why did she make him act this way?

Elizabeth frowned at th is remark, disappointed. He'd never call her by her first name. It wasn't too much to ask, was it?

"There. See? At least the boy has a sense of propriety. Now, we really must be going. Farewell!" the governor called as he headed out the door. It was time to go- they were going to be late.

Elizabeth looked back at Will and smiled. Only this time her smile was a bit of a disapproving scorn compared to her radiant beam that she wore seconds before. "Good day, Mr. Turner." She quickly turned away from him and practically stormed out the door. He was being a cheeky little working-class scamp to her is what he was doing.

"Come along!" her father called, a bit impatiently.

Will followed her timidly and doggedly out the door as the butler shut it with a soft snap. "Good day!" he called as she gathered her skirts and was helped into the awaiting carriage. Then, he added quietly to himself, smiling at how the word rolled off his tongue so smoothly, so sweetly, ". . . Elizabeth."

She jumped as she thought her ears picked up her name. The carriage jerked forward just as she looked back at Will and met his eyes. She watched him slowly step down the front stairs as she disappeared into the distance. As far as she could tell, he was watching her too. She pulled in the window and leaned back against her seat as Will disappeared from sight and the bumpy ride down to town commenced.

She didn't know what she was expecting, but she ended up casting her gaze at her hands, folded gently on her lap, with a disappointed air about her. Her father fixed the sleeve of his left arm, a bit shakily as he noticed this. "I do hope you demonstrate a little more decorum in front of Commodore Norrington," he stammered. Great, another lecture. He obviously was disappointed in Elizabeth and how she acted around Will. "After all, it's only through his efforts that Port Royale has become at all civilized."

Yes, she knew. She never acted that way around the commodore anyway.
Author's Notes: Alrighty then. I'm not sure if writing this is worth my time, but I'm still chugging along. The next chapter holds the entrance of our favorite drunken pirate captain- sorry if it isn't as humorous as in the film, I tried to give good discriptions.

Will, as you may notice, is a very controversial character, as you may know. Probably the most controversial character in Pirates of the Caribbean. Some people think he's cool, some hate his guts and think he's dork (which is ironic because Gore Verbinski and Orlando Bloom's goal was to make Will a dork until the final hanging scene, where he completely turns pirate), and a lot think he's just plain hot and don't care about his character... dorks. j/k! Don't hit me! It was just in good fun!... If you don't like my portrayal, I'm so sorry! I'm going to try to make Will as close as to what Orlando, Gore, Ted and Terry created.

Um... yeah. So, be good. Please review and look both ways before you cross the street. Namárië!

Jack E.