Flights of Fancy

By Illoria

A/N: More and more thanks for everybody's support of this story. YOU ROCK!! =)

Chapter Four: Certain Piratical Places

          The Cordelia had docked only a little while before nightfall, the captain had bid her farewell, and Edward had tipped his hat to her. The gangplank had been let down, and she had stepped onto the docks, finding it only slightly odd to be back on solid land.

          She had insisted that she could fare for herself on the island. She really had. But for some reason, Edward hadn't believed her. (The rest of the Cordelia's crew hadn't really seemed to care one way or the other.) So, when the crew disembarked, it had been Edward who had suggested that he accompany her, just to where she needed to get.

          She had scoped out the docks for the Black Pearl, Edward in toe.

And the Pearl wasn't there.

          After she'd calmed down a bit – she had expected that the Pearl would without-a-doubt be there – she had reasoned that Jack's ship was probably docked offshore, stashed away in some cove, a hidden place where she would be safe. The navy was without-a-doubt looking for the Pearl, after all. They were, actually, probably searching quite frantically for the Pearl because they were surely searching quite frantically for Elizabeth.

          A pang of guilt hit her, along with a sudden sadness as she thought of Will, Will and her father and Norrington.

          Edward noticed her sudden faltering.

          "Are you all right, Miss?"

          She righted herself and nodded.

          "I was expecting a ship here, that is all."

          "What's the name of the ship you're looking for? Mayhap I've heard news of her."

          Of course she couldn't tell that it was none other than the Black Pearl that she was looking for. Edward was an honest sailor, a man of the law, right? So he would surely not condone her searching for a pirate ship. He would probably even suspect her of piratical activities, too.

          "I can't really tell you. I'm sorry."

          Edward nodded and bowed his head to her, then looked back up. "S'pose I'll have to respect that."

          Elizabeth nodded, distracted again. She was back to scanning the ships docked at Tortuga. She had been so sure that she would see the Pearl there… but there she was, and there the Pearl wasn't.

          **

          Will had no idea what to do with himself.

          Hours of pounding steel at the smithy had not resulted in a new sword; on the contrary, all he had was a distracted mess with no trace of the fine craftsmanship that had created all the others. Even Mr. Brown noticed that there was something wrong with Will, and he'd given him the day off after seeing that nothing worth making would come out of Will's distraction.

          Will paced the docks, he walked through town. In the marketplace he gave up three shillings because a ring reminded him of Elizabeth.

          Will was a mess.

Norrington noticed.

Will ran into the Commodore during his second round of pacing the docks. Norrington stopped him and asked why was he doing all that mumbling to himself; it took a moment for Will to respond, because he hadn't even noticed that he'd been mumbling. And when Will started to respond, Norrington cut him off anyway.

"You miss Elizabeth. I know." The Commodore spoke this fact plain as day, hands folded neatly behind his back, turned slightly and looking out over the docks to the sea. No passerby would've noted anything different about the Commodore, but Will did – because Will most definitely recognized the look in Norrington's eyes. Norrington knew what it was like to miss Elizabeth.

"I must admit I'm surprised, Mr. Turner."

Will's look turned to confusion. It was no surprise that he missed Elizabeth so; just yesterday he had kissed her up on the battlements after admitting his love for her, and today she was gone.

"I'm surprised that you haven't gone after her, that is."

Norrington's words, tinged with a certain sadness, seemed to hit Will right in the chest. It was ironic in a specific way; that Will wanted so much to go after Elizabeth, but knew that he couldn't because she didn't want him to. Oh, how he wanted to go after her – to sweep her up and take her away wherever she wanted. But he knew – and what a painful knowledge it was – that he wasn't the one that Elizabeth wanted to sweep her away.

There was a silence.

Then, to Will's surprise, Norrington laughed. Will gave him another awkward, confused look.

"I know, Mr. Turner. I know that Elizabeth wasn't kidnapped this time."

Will just stared at the Commodore, unable to think of anything to say. After a little while, he spoke.

"How do you know?"

Norrington paused. "Because I know Elizabeth." He smiled, sadly. "…Mr. Turner. I think that the two of us have more in common than we'd like to think."

Will knew that it was true. Both himself and Commodore Norrington had admired Elizabeth from afar for all those years; this was just the first time that Will realized that all those chance meetings with Elizabeth in the market had probably been followed by dinners in the Swann household with Norrington as the guest.

An odd sort of understanding seemed to waver in the air between the two, gone almost before it had arrived and leaving behind only a wisp.

Another silence had come over the docks. Norrington bowed briefly to Will before taking a step back and saying, "Good day, Mr. Turner." And then he left.

**

          Norrington left the docks, walking up the roads that lead to the Swann mansion. He was let through the gates and he came to the house, but he needed not enter. The governor was standing before the steps, smoking a pipe with a distracted look in his eyes. Only as Norrington moved closer did Governor Swann lower his pipe and turn to his guest.

"Good afternoon, Commodore," Weatherby Swann said.

"Good afternoon," Norrington greeted.

The Commodore could tell that the governor was distressed. His wig was just a little bit askew; not enough to be noticed by any others who hadn't spent a fair portion of their lives in contact with the governor and his straight wig. But the tip-off was his eyes, that distraction, and the pipe that Norrington had never seen Governor Swann smoking before, and the fact that the governor had been standing outside waiting to greet Norrington, not inside waiting for the butler to greet his guest.

When Elizabeth had been kidnapped – not long ago at all though it seemed very far away – Weatherby Swann had maintained a certain levelness – for the most part, anyway, and of course it had only appeared after the shock had agreed to let anything else through. There had been a certain "this is what we have to do"; though the governor had, of course, showed his worry, and also his urgency in finding his daughter.

Now, the worry was still there, and deep in the lines on the governor's face. But not that sense of strategy; that seemed as far-off as the look in his eyes.

A sea breeze came in and swept up the smoke from the pipe that Governor Swann had lifted back up to his lips.

Neither of the two men said anything.

It wasn't as Elizabeth suspected. Both her father and Norrington believed that she had left Port Royal of her own will; they both believed the note she had left, and really knew not what to do about it. Elizabeth would have been surprised to find this out; she was so sure that no one would ever believe her a runaway.

In Tortuga, Elizabeth was thinking about how she would go back someday, maybe a day not so far away, and she would go back as a free woman, who could choose the length and manner of her stay, and it would just be a visit, and then she would fly away again. Because, well, her father really did deserve more than a brief note, even if his place wasn't what she wanted hers to be.

**

          Elizabeth took a deep breath to calm all the various things that were flitting about inside of her.

          What to do, what to do?

          Bloody pirates. All for secrecy, eh? Nooo, couldn't just tie down at the docks. Had to be a hideaway, had to up the drama. This was bloody Tortuga! Everyone there was doing something illegal; why not throw piracy in the mix too? What was the need for secrecy?!

          (No, Elizabeth wasn't letting herself think that the Black Pearl might not even be there at all.)

          "Miss-"

          She was pacing the small space before one of the docks. She stopped as Edward gave her a series of odd looks.

          "I just – don't quite know what to do. Sir. I was expecting a ship."

          "Expecting someone?"

          She faltered, only a bit. "Yes. I'm expecting someone, who isn't here, and I have no idea where to look for them."

          "You know, miss, if you just tell me the name of the ship you're lookin' for, I'll bet I can help you. I hear tell of all sorts of ships and their voyages."

          Maybe she should just tell him. Maybe it wouldn't do that much harm. It wasn't like Edward was Norrington (pang of guilt, there) or anything. He was just a merchant sailor. And if he could tell her that the Pearl wasn't headed for Tortuga after all, then wouldn't it be worth telling him the name of the ship?

          No, no. It was a big secret. She couldn't just go blurting out that she was looking for a pirate ship – and not just any pirate ship! The pirate ship! The Black Pearl!

          She was pretty much stuck, now that she thought of it. She was on the island of Tortuga with no way to get off of it, considering that all her money was gone on the voyage there. And she frankly didn't know what to do now that she didn't know if the Pearl was even there at all; frolicking about Tortuga looking for Jack Sparrow when he might not even be there didn't seem a very good plan of action, especially now that the sun was starting to set and Tortuga wasn't a very good place for her to be after dark considering that she had never been there before, that she knew it only from stories, and that she had no idea where to go.

          "The Black Pearl."

          Edward's eyes widened. "The Black Pearl? I hear tell of the Pearl; in fact, just before we set off from Port Royal, a ship docked with the latest news of her…" She had expected that.

          But what came next was not what she had expected.

          "… What I heard, Miss, was that… well… She went down."