Disclaimer: Don't own.

A/N: Wow…people are actually calling me Ms. Kenobi. WOOT. Muchas gracias to reviewers and readers.

It had been two weeks since the Commodore set off to find Christina and Will and bring them back, and every day since Elizabeth had awoken early and made her way down to the docks, searching eagerly for the small vessel they'd taken to emerge on the horizon. She told herself it wasn't because of Will - and for the most part, it wasn't, although a great deal of her was worried about him. But she was more concerned for her sister, now, having fully given up on Will.

After all, hadn't Christina risked everything - her reputation, their father's respect, and most importantly her life - to come out and search for Elizabeth; indeed, to rescue her from Barbossa and his men? It was the very least Elizabeth could do to respectfully back away and give Christina and Will her best wishes. And it had taken her enough time to realize that, too.

Elizabeth had done a lot of thinking since Christina had run away from Port Royal, seemingly to provide Will and Elizabeth herself with the space they needed. Elizabeth thought mostly about her relationship with her sister, how strained it had become since their mother left. She realized that she had a deep love for her sister, and that she always did, but it had become so very hard to identify. She realized that it was really a rather stupid reaction to their mother's absence - if anything, it should have proved to bring the two together. But just as it was hard for the Governor to be around Christina, it was also hard for Elizabeth. Christina had so much of their mother in her.

For a long time it was all Elizabeth could hold onto that she was like her father. Though he had his faults, Governor Swann was a good man and Elizabeth was proud to call him Father, although Christina might beg to differ. But in the two weeks since her sister had been gone, Elizabeth had grown up considerably. Perhaps it was Christina's absence that finally allowed Elizabeth the room to grow up. When they were around each other, each remained in their own way immature, although to other eyes Elizabeth was the mature one; Christina being the rebellious daughter.

Elizabeth sat now with her knees drawn up to her chest, a difficult position to manage when garbed in as many yards of fabric as she was. Before her kidnapping, Elizabeth would never have been caught like this. She was always the image of propriety, but now Elizabeth sensed that propriety hadn't gotten her very far, and maybe her sister was right all along to scorn it. But one of them had to carry the respect of being Governor Swann's daughter, and since Christina shirked it and preferred swordsmanship, the duty fell to the youngest daughter. It had always seemed natural for it to be that way - Christina the eldest sister, whose hair never stayed in place and who ripped about as many dresses as she owned, and Elizabeth, the younger: fair skinned and fair haired, every inch the aristocrat.

She never realized how much she envied her sister, though she did to some degree acknowledge Christina's own envy of her. It seemed ironic, now, Elizabeth thought, how they had lived so close these ten years since their mother's leave-taking, and never even thought to talk to one another.

It seemed rather pathetic to Elizabeth now that their long-term rivalry was over a boy, regardless of how handsome Will Turner turned out to be. She was relieved to discover, in all her mornings spent by the shore in meditation, that perhaps he was only the excuse and their rivalry was caused by heavier things. Since finding out that Governor Swann was not truly her father, Elizabeth had found that growing up was quite necessary. It tore from her the very basis of herself - she was the Governor's daughter. Everyone said how proud he must be of her, how beautiful she was, how alike to him she was…for Christina, adjusting to something like this would be much easier. Didn't she always swear she was not related to them anyway? Didn't she always say that she couldn't possibly by the Governor's true daughter? But Elizabeth had relied on her relationship with her father to justify the way she was - straight-backed and proud, not flippant or fanciful like the sister that intrigued everyone. Invigorating - isn't that what First Mate Gillette called Christina? As long as Elizabeth was the Governor's daughter, it was alright that she wasn't invigorating. It was perfectly acceptable to be exactly like the other "rich, wig-wearing" people of Port Royal that Christina so heatedly despised. Now, knowing that she wasn't her father's daughter, well, it gave her now excuse to be like everybody else. And she was even further from the mother that she hardly remembered.

For the first time, she wished her sister were here to talk to. The fact that she might have destroyed her one tie to her mother was more than Elizabeth could bear to think about. She swore to herself that as soon as Christina arrived back at Port Royal - assuming, of course, that she ever would return - that she would apologize and even beg forgiveness if she had to. Sadly, Elizabeth realized that it wasn't entirely out of love for her sister, but also out of her own need. Christina was the closest thing to their mother that Elizabeth could know, and not merely because she looked like Belynda St. Paul but because she had her spirit. At least she would admit to herself, though, that she wasn't with the purest of intentions. It seemed there was a first time for everything.

With a sigh, Elizabeth turned to stare out at the horizon once more.

1.

Despite any discomfort, I fell asleep rather quickly only to be roused in what seemed like minutes by Laurelyn and Mary. Mary was sitting glumly on her mat, scowling at me with her arms over her chest. "I do not think you should go through with this, Christina. It isn't wise, and you were brought up to know better. You don't have to live a life quite so full of adventure," she urged. I sighed and shifted my shoulders; I would still be sore for a while.

"This isn't about adventure anymore, Mary," I said, crawling out of the tent and narrowing my eyes in the darkness - the sun hadn't risen yet, and it was brisk out. Laurelyn came out of the tent after me, handing me my blanket and tossing hers around her shoulders. Mary came walking out next, wrapped up tightly in her own coarse blanket and glaring about suspiciously. It seemed being away from Port Royal for so long was having effects on her that I couldn't begin to comprehend. Although I was feeling a bit homesick - not enough to think about more than once a day, but homesickness all the same - Mary seemed to loathe every minute away from our small, "civilized" town. I found myself in less of a rush to get back.

"What is it about then?" she asked sullenly. I sighed. "I made a vow - as did you, if I remember correctly - to become a daughter of this island. And I will uphold that vow,"

"Are you even listening to yourself? A daughter of this island? You are the daughter of Belynda St. Paul and Governor Franklin Swann of Port Royal. This is madness, Christina! You cannot swear yourself - your soul - to these…people," Mary hissed. We stood alone, but I knew that Maurya and Naneth would be here any minute to lead us wherever it was the ceremony would take place.

"These people have a complex and beautiful culture, Mary. I thought you were less closed-minded, but it seems you have been spending a great deal of time with a certain Commodore. You're beginning to sound like him!" I snapped.

"You leave James out of this - so what if I sound like him? It's because he is right! I agree with him!" Mary snapped right back. I let out a breath and decided to try a new approach. "Mary, you have been on this island as long as I have - these women have become our friends. What have you seen here that would cause you to fear them so? What harm have you seen them do?" I asked, making an attempt to understand where she was coming from. Mary pursed her lips. "What harm? They believe in a goddess, and Earth Mother, for God's sake! They dance around fires and go about half-naked and live in huts and tents. You would give yourself to this? If you care nothing for your own soul at least think of your children!"

"Mary, you can't be as superstitious as all that…"

"It isn't right, Christina, and you were brought up better than this!" she looked truly desperate now, and I was beginning to fear for her sanity. Looking back, I think she felt the same way about me.

"That is enough, Mary-belle," Laurelyn said quietly. "They do not mean any harm - I'm an initiate of the island, and I'm alright."

"You are a very far cry from alright, Miss Lupine," Mary snarled. Laurelyn looked taken aback. "You own your own shop, you are your own boss, and you sleep with a man who you are not married to and have no intention of marrying. It is not right for a woman to do such things. It is not all right!" Laurelyn looked shocked, and temporarily hurt. As a woman living on Tortuga, accusations such as Mary's probably were not new to her, but it was clear that before this she thought of Mary as someone who could be her friend. I put my hand on Laurelyn's shoulder gently, angry that a friend as dear to me as Mary could say something so tactless, especially to someone I greatly admired for being independent and strong.

"And why isn't it right, Mary? Because it is new? Because it is challenging? Because men do not say so?" I asked sourly, more upset by her words than I could imagine myself being. Mary had always been a dear friend to me; she would always listen to me when I had some sob tale to whine about whether it be Will or Elizabeth or my father. We hardly ever disagreed, but we never truly spoke about matters of great importance. In this new place, I discovered that there were some parts of Mary's character I hadn't been aware of, and could hardly understand.

"I am tired of being told my place. And I would think that you are too. Perhaps it is Port Royal that is backwards and this place that has it figured out. I see no reasoning behind the conception that women are beneath men -"

"That is just how it is, Miss Swann. I have lived with it all my life and I haven't been doing too bad for myself. You will have to learn to live with it, too," Mary said patiently, suddenly patronizing. I bristled with indignation. "This is where we part, then, Mary. I will never learn to live with it. I answer to no man," I told her, turning my back to meet Naneth, Maurya, and Taeryn.

"You do truly be a daughter of our island then, Princess," Naneth told me kindly, taking my hand. Laurelyn walked beside Taeryn, and Maurya was on my other side. I turned around only once, to see Mary standing with her arms crossed before she walked in the other direction, towards the shore where the Commodore had camped, waiting to take us back to Port Royal.

1.

We walked through the forest, away from the maiden's camp, higher and higher until we reached a plateau of smooth rock. The forest was farther beneath us then I'd imagined, as shortly after entering the forest and leaving the maiden's camp behind I was blindfolded with a deep blue sash. Standing on the rock I was arranged facing east and slowly I felt the warmth of the sun as it made its slow ascent into the sky. My maiden's garb was removed and I was clothed instead soft garments of a color unknown to me, my world and light muted by the sash across my eyes.

"Do you, Christina Swann, wish to be a daughter of our island, sister to the Forest Virgin?" a high, trembling voice asked me first. I vaguely recognized it as one of the girls from the maiden's camp, a few years younger than myself. I felt Naneth touch my lips lightly with a flower petal, a sign that I should answer.

"Yes," I said, my voice clear in the gently breeze. I was left devoid of my eyesight, but I could hear more clearly the sounds of the island - the distant rumble of waves on the shore, the rustle of wind through the trees; the high chant from the women's side of the island, and the low grunts and shouts of the hunting men. I could feel everything from this high up, the spray of the sea still reaching us and letting salt coat my lips and skin, sand whipped about sharply even high above the beaches.

"Do you, Christina Swann, wish to be a daughter of our island, daughter to the Earth Mother?" Taeryn's voice asked me this, deep and proud, barely above a whisper yet resounding with life. I found myself thinking fleetingly of my mother, and how Taeryn's voice reminded me of how she told stories to Elizabeth and I late at night, in the years before she left. Again Naneth touched my lips but this time with a fruit, and again I answered "Yes."

"Do you, Christina Swann, wish to be a daughter of our island, child of the Old Lady of the Sea?" Maurya's voice was like a bellow, surrounding me the way the ocean surrounds the island. I trembled faintly, intimidated by Maurya even though it had been Naneth who dealt out my punishment for spending a night with Will. Naneth touched my lips once more with the pit of the fruit, which I think was a peach, and before her fingers left my lips I answered, "Yes."

I felt Naneth's wizened old hands reach up and take the sash from my eyes, binding it instead in my hair, which had been braided back elaborately for the occasion. Laurelyn and Taeryn came forward and removed the sleeves from a thin night-black dress that I had been dressed in, leaving my shoulders bare. I was ordered to kneel on the hard stone of the plateau, blinded by the light of the sun, which had risen so that it seemed square with my eyes. Everything felt warm as oils were rubbed into my skin. I tensed, expecting pain where the aloe and leaves had been removed, but the oils were sweet and soothing. Naneth stood before me, so tiny that she could reach my shoulders easily. Maurya handed her a bowl full of deep blue dye, the same color as the sash in my hair. Taeryn handed her a needle.

Anamaria was also present, I noticed, but she hadn't said a word or moved until now. She was also dressed in the brown linen that the married women and Laurelyn wore, but her shoulders were bare and I could see on her left the tiny red circle that I had asked her about in the lagoon, the first day on the island. She smiled as she looked at me now. "This red circle do symbolize those of this island too proud, too brave, or too foolish to give their lives to bonding," Anamaria said softly, touching the circle and tracing where the line deepened to make it appear like a crescent moon. Her eyes did not seem sad, on the contrary she seemed content. "It is the path I did choose. But you, Christina Swann, did choose another." I looked up when she refrained from calling me "princess," as she usually chose too. Hearing my name was strange, coming from her, but again I suppose this is ceremony.

"The blue ink does symbolize those too passionate, too foolish, too brave to run away when they are called to the bond. It is the path laid before you, the one you did choose to take when you passed the scarlet sash."

I gasped as Naneth began to press the needle to my flesh, mixing the ink with my skin. I thought, wildly, about what my father would say if he ever saw me with a tattoo - it might just be the straw that broke the camel's back. Laurelyn stood next to Taeryn, and each of them had a blue circle on her shoulder, as did Maurya. Naneth, I was surprised to see, had a red one; and the girl who asked me first if I would accept this island had no circle, but I suppose she was too young.

The first stab of pain that I felt in my shoulder dimmed to a dull soreness, and I closed my eyes and felt the sun on my skin and the wind in my hair, which had been let down out of its braid after the blindfold was removed. Taeryn, Maurya, and Anamaria began to sing a haunting tune, something that sounded familiar and foreign at the same time, and Naneth hummed it under her breath as she worked, her fingers as gentle as they had ever been. I opened my eyes when she was done and in the dawn I could see the dress I wore was blue, not black, and in my hair they had woven flowers.

1.

Back at Port Royal, Elizabeth had finally decided that she could not wait any longer by the shore. It was clear that today was not the day that Christina would be coming home, and as surprised as she was to admit it, Elizabeth was disappointed. Her father stood waiting by a stagecoach to take her back to the mansion, where Eleanor would dawdle over getting her into a bath and braiding her hair, and tucking her into her large feather bed so she would not miss a wink of beauty sleep. Elizabeth had been sleeping in the room she shared with Christina recently, even though they each had a separate room. She had been rehearsing every day the words to say to apologize, and part of her was glad that her sister had not returned yet. Elizabeth didn't know how she would face her sister, especially after the conditions in which they had parted.

Elizabeth had kept the letter Christina had written, saying farewell, at first trying to understand it and then feeling terribly guilty about all that had transpired.

"Father, don't be too terribly upset with Will, either. It is not his fault I am leaving, nor is it Elizabeth's, though at first it seemed that way to me. You still must welcome him as son-in-law, I think. I hope they will be very happy…

…Please do not trouble yourself with worry for me, and tell Mr. Turner not to feel guilty because he will be much happier now that I am leaving. It is something I probably should have done weeks ago, this stepping aside…

I hope he and Elizabeth will be very happy together."

"'This stepping aside...'" Elizabeth whispered to herself, getting to her feet and shaking her skirts free of sand. She squared her shoulders and decided that tomorrow she would not come to the shore and wait. It seemed that her time with Jack and the pirates had given her a sense for the wind; on the ocean breeze she felt sure she could smell change, and it was almost as if she could hear a faint singing, women's voices raised in song. She turned and headed back to the stagecoach to go home, unaware of the blossoms that the ocean-breeze had threaded in her hair.

1.

A/N: Woot, another update. And you didn't have to wait months for it. Go me. School ends in three days, and I'm trying to wrap up this story a bit (thirty chapters is a bit insane, I think…). I wanted the "initiation" thing be kind of Mists of Avalon-mystical, but it might just have sounded corny. (grin) I hope ya'll liked it…This one was pretty fun to write, but it might just be me getting away with myself. Review, please!

Crystyna

Good God, everyone thinks that Hayden Christianson is hotter than my very sexy Jedi Master Kenobi! o.0 That's okay. More for me, then. x