Disclaimer: Ha. I wish I DID own POTC. Then I'd be RICH!!!
A/N: This is an ever-so-slightly random fic that I am making up as I go along. So if there are any loopholes, etc, please point them out to me. And if you don't like characters being all angsty and being bashed until their dignity is in tatters, or lots of OOC-ishness, click the close button now.
Chapter 1Elizabeth Swan stood in front of her full length mirror, dressed in ordinary rags. She smiled at her reflection, pleased with the new look. "There's one thing you're forgetting, mate… I'm Captain Elizabeth Swan!" She began swishing an imaginary sword around, yelling, "HA!" at various intervals. However, she was cut short by an object on the horizon, reflected in the mirror. A ship… It couldn't be. But she was silently praying it was. She rushed to the window and leaned out, craning her head to see further. No, it wasn't. Yet again, it wasn't. "DAMN YOU!" she screeched at the empty ocean.
Collapsing on the window seat, she stared into the distance. Please, please let them come back… she thought. "Elizabeth!" Will called from the other side of the door.
"What?"
"Are you ready?" Whoops! She'd forgotten the picnic they'd scheduled this afternoon. Now, where was that dress…? "Can I come in?"
"No! I mean, wait a minute, I'm just doing my hair, I'll be – BLAST!" The dress tore at the bodice. Will barged in at her exclamation, only to find her in common clothes, hair awry, flushed cheeks and with a half-ripped dress in her hands. He stared at her, puzzled. "Elizabeth…?"
"Um… yes. Just… I'll be… Oh Will. I'm not in the mood today. And I just ripped my best dress." He continued to stare at her. "Will! Say something!" she demanded. Still he said nothing, he just walked up to her and fingered the rags.
"What… Elizabeth? Why are you wearing these?"
"Um… comfort. Yes, they're just much more comfy than this Romanian silk that I'm afraid to breathe in." He looked sceptical. "OK, I can see you're out of sorts today," he said quietly. "We'll go tomorrow." He left, shutting the door with a quiet click behind him. Elizabeth collapsed on her bed and sighed deeply. Things were much more exciting when they were around… she thought wistfully.
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She spent the afternoon sleeping, but was interrupted at around 4 o'clock by a knock at her door. It opened, and she pretended to sleep on. "Elizabeth?" Will said. I wish he'd stop bleating my name like that… she thought. Stupid parrot. She opened her eyes slowly. "Will?"
"Ah, you're awake."
"Yes, but only just. What's wrong?" She sat up and he sat beside her.
"We've been invited to a ball at the next town – tonight. I was wondering if you were up to it?" He pushed a lock of hair away from her face. "Yes, I guess I will be. Here," she handed him the ripped dress. "Get one of the tailors to repair this. What time do we leave?"
"In about an hour and a half. I'll come back for you," he said, getting up to leave.
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Why, oh why, did I agree to come? Elizabeth scolded herself inwardly as the carriage tumbled over the uneven roads. She put her head against Will's shoulder and promptly fell asleep. Thirty minutes later, Will was waking her up and they were there. She stepped out of the carriage and allowed Will to escort her to the ballroom.
It wasn't anything special, just a lot of rich people dressed in silk, milling around and talking. Just when she thought it couldn't get any more boring, she spied an unfamiliar and – dare she think it – rather common face in the corner. Grubby, unwashed, dressed in rags… why had no one noticed him and sent him away? Still – he looked like a pirate, and that was all that mattered. She made to go and talk to the knave, but at that point the band struck up with a zesty waltz and she was dragged back to Will before she took a single step.
All through the dance, she craned her neck towards the spot where the pirate stood. Once, he caught her eye and winked. That was it – she had to talk to him. She didn't know what it was, but she was starting to get a small fetish for the pirates and their lifestyle. Breaking away from Will – and leaving him hurt and confused – she ran between the couples to talk to him.
"Good evening," she curtseyed. He looked her up and down. "Ello, miss. What canne do fer you?"
"I was wondering who you were, good sir."
"I be Captain Jack Sparrow," he said. She looked at him closely. "No, you're not. Don't lie to me!" she said fiercely.
"Aha, you're a clever missy. Nah, I be Robertson."
"And what is your forename?"
"I don't know me first name. Never had one, as far as I'm aware." Elizabeth stared.
"How can that be so?"
"I was a servant boy to a rich family, and they never told me. So I – oh. Looks like your lover boy's coming over," he said, nodding in the direction of Will, who was currently storming over to the pair. "Elizabeth!"
"Oh Will. Please stop repeating my name over and over, it's getting very wearing."
"What do you think you're doing?"
"Talking." She regarded him with distaste. That did it for Will. "Elizabeth, come with me."
"No. I want to stay and talk to Robertson, if you don't mind." She turned back to Robertson, only to have Will turn her back. "Get off me!" she shrieked, slapping at him and generally creating a spectacle. "Get off! Please, Will, just leave me to run my own life!" No one was talking. They were all staring at her and Will, who was looking at her with an undetermined expression. "Carry on, everyone!" she said gaily, spreading her palms out. They did, but the talk now turned to Quack Elizabeth Swan. "Will, look," she said, taking him away from Robertson, "I just want to socialise. Just mix with people."
"But why him? He's… a pirate."
"Yes, he is."
"A pirate, Elizabeth."
"I know! But I don't see why that's a problem."
"Oh, so the whole of last year didn't happen? The pirates, the curse, the near-death experiences?" He grabbed her by the shoulders. "Wake. Up."
"I have! I have, and I've realised this is boring – you're boring, Will! I'm sick of our picture perfect life, and it was much more exciting and fun when the pirates were here! Is it too much to ask? Seriously?" Will looked at her for a few seconds. "Will, you keep staring at me."
"We're going home, Elizabeth. I'll call for the carriage." He strode off, and suddenly Elizabeth felt incredibly guilty.
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Be gentle. I haven't attempted a POTC fic before. No, actually be as critical as you like. No flames, please.
