Disclaimer: I own nothing recognizable.

Christina wouldn't notice anything different about herself, but Port Royal certainly did. Everyone in Port Royal did, even the people who had been with her on her adventure way from the Port. Word traveled quickly amongst the town people, and soon everyone from the sailors to the bakers knew that Governor Swann's eldest daughter was finally back among civilized people. There were whispers everywhere, some of them asking about Jack Sparrow and why the Commodore hadn't brought him back shackled and gagged, but most were about Christina. This struck Elizabeth as odd, but with a quick look at the Commodore, she could tell he was relieved.

Christina looked different, but it was hard to say exactly how. She looked stronger, if that was possibly. Elizabeth had always thought that Christina was the more solid of the two of them; indeed, she definitely was wider and stockier than her sister. This seemed to be a different kind of strength, however. Christina was the picture of a perfect lady walking along the deck to meet the Governor and her sister. The dress that the Commodore had brought with him was one of Mrs. Dawson's finest. It was made of dark blue satin, the shoulders bare but covered by a black satin shawl and the sleeves long and tight down to her wrists, where there was a fair fountain of lace spilling over her fingertips. There was also lace embroidered down the front of the dress from the chest to the full skirt, not a pure white virginal lace but a creamy lace that seemed, on the dark Swann girl, almost seductive. Elizabeth squinted at her sister, trying to make out just what it was that was so captivating about Christina now that she had returned. Elizabeth finally decided that it was merely because she hadn't seen her sister in so long that had her so perplexed. Certainly she couldn't have changed that much. She couldn't possibly seem so pretty. Perhaps she had always been good-looking, shiny like a new Arabian mare and as proud as a peacock. For the first time, Elizabeth felt the slightest bit threatened by her sister.

In truth, very little about Christina Swann had changed physically. Her skin had gotten darker from work out in the sun, but it was hardly noticeable in the yards of fabric that she wore. Her hair, usually so wild and tangled out of the style that Mary put it in was pulled back into a severe braid and woven like a coronet into place. It was the way the island women did their hair, although they usually left the braid down where it could hand past their knees, but Christina did not want to return to Port Royal looking like a ruffian. Oh, she knew people would talk and she hardly cared anymore but she didn't want to give them anymore to talk about than they had already.

Will stepped out of the boat and stood next to his wife - but only the five people returning to Port Royal knew her status as such. He offered her his arm and she put an ungloved hand in the crook, letting it rest their lightly and summoning up all the grace that her mother had practiced and detested. Her feet hurt terribly in their tiny pinching shoes but she tried her best to ignore it. The townspeople noticed, of course, they would notice everything, but Christina pulled out a fan and waved it delicately in front of her face. The people of Port Royal would think that she was still getting used to her land legs. Only seasoned sailors could see that it was a hoax, and that Christina was quite comfortable on land as she was on the water. The sailors, however, cared very little for whatever gossip was going to surround the little bint of a Governor's daughter. Gillette stood behind Mary and the Commodore, but he knew that his role in this adventure was over. He went to join the sailors, who were among the first to leave for a pub and a cheerful barmaid instead of all this stoic, familial tension that seemed to be the mood.

Elizabeth watched as her sister's mouth twisted in a grimace as she glared around at the people who had come to welcome her back home. She knew that Christina hated to pretend to be a lady, but for once instead of being as hardheaded and stubborn as a mule she was playing the role she was meant to play. Whether or not it would succeed in making them believe that she was reformed from her rebellion would remain to be seen. As far as Elizabeth was concerned, it would only perplex them for a while before they figured out the joke was on them. From the look of disgust and discomfort on Christina's face, Elizabeth knew that her sister could not have changed all that much.

Why the elaborate act, then? Elizabeth wondered, watching as the Commodore led the way with the red haired maid on his arm, nearly as elaborately dressed as Christina herself. Mary's dress was a deep cream color with a blood red panel of embroidered fabric from the chest to the waist. It was, in Elizabeth's opinion, a more fantastic dress than the one Christina was wearing, and looked quite amazing on the modest Mary. Mary Porter looked pale with nerves as the Commodore escorted her down the dock, her face flushing a becoming red when she realized that people were staring at her just as avidly as they were staring as Miss Swann. The Commodore, on the contrary, looked quite nonchalant as he glared at anyone who dared look too inquisitively at Mary. Elizabeth felt her heart catch and, also for the first time in her life, felt regret at not having able to get to know Commodore Norrington better. He looked like a lion, or perhaps a wolf, the way he stalked down the dock, his shiny black boots clacking loudly against the swaying, faded wood.

"Father," Elizabeth whispered, pressing her hand into his arm where it rested, "does she looked…different…to you?"

Governor Swann smiled widely, quite proud of his daughter without the faintest idea as to why. "She looks radiant," he answered. He decided to ignore now Christina looked as if she'd grown up over the months she had been away. First of all because it was painful to think of how he had missed seeing the girl who was so much like her mother grow up. Second of all because seeing Christina like his reminded him of Belynda, of how Belynda would have been had she been given all of her freedom instead of forced into marriage with him. And lastly because the difference in Christina was very evident, no matter how she tried to hide it - or perhaps because she tried to hide it. The eldest Swann daughter was known for her openness and her difficulty at mastering a convincing 'court face,' as it was known to the people in the inner circles of Port Royal's aristocracy. If the girl was trying to hide something, surely everyone could see it. And they would talk.

"Father," Christina said, letting go of Will's arm and running the last few steps to the Governor. "Oh, I've missed you, Father!" she said, and Governor Swann breathed a sigh of relief when his daughter threw herself into his arms. It was a break from her façade, and that set his mind at ease. Perhaps if she acted like she normally did, people who suspect less. As it was, there was a whispering gathering into a roar, but at least some of the people seemed to be going about their business.

"Christina, I do not know what you've been up to but please listen to me - you've got to act naturally. Do not pretend to be a proper lady, people will see through it in an instant," the Governor whispered anxiously, pretending to kiss his daughter on the cheek. Christina broke away from him, a terribly hurt look in her eyes.

"What I've been up to, Father? Is that the first thing you have to say to me?" Her eyes hardened and she raised her chin, the very image of her mother in that moment so much so that it took Governor Swann's breath away. Elizabeth took a step forward and placed a hand on her father's arm, and stretched another - tremulously - out to her sister.

"Please, Christina, I'm sure he didn't mean it that way. It's just, well, there has been a lot of talk. Father's position is precarious, seeing has how new of you running off with a pirate had spread - it reminds people very much of Mother -"

"Oh, bother his position! I should have known the two of you would have acted like this. Perhaps I should have stayed away, then! You obviously haven't missed me at all! All you're worried about is his position -"

"Not my position, sweeting," Governor Swann interrupted hastily, beseeching her to lower her voice, which was getting shriller by the moment. Will slid his hand into Christina's and squeezed it gently, murmuring something soft into her ear that seemed to calm her down. Governor Swann would remember to thank the boy for that - right after he clobbered him for causing Christina to run away in the first place.

"We are worried about your good name, darling. You must know how odd it has looked with you running off to that Captain Sparrow -"

"Well, he was worried about your good name, Christina. I wasn't," Elizabeth broke in. She didn't sound nasty, only earnest and honest. Christina's eyes narrowed all the same. "Good to see that nothing's changed with you, Elizabeth," she snapped, her eyes flashing dangerously. Elizabeth drew herself up to her full height, which was at least three inches taller than her sister.

"I was going to say that I was only worried for your safety - and I wanted to apologize to you for the way I behaved -"

"Oh, bollocks."

"Governor Swann, Miss Swann and Miss Swann if I may be so bold, this isn't the time or the place for you to be having his discussion," Commodore Norrington broke in surreptitiously. "Remember, Christina, the point was to stun them with your upstanding propriety, not have a family row in the center of town!"

"Yes, we mustn't ruin my good name, eh? Oh shove off, the lot of you!" Christina looked near tears now, and Elizabeth felt that this wasn't going at all the way she'd intended it too. All the people had seen was her say something to her sister, and now Christina was close to crying. Angry muttering broke out mostly among the townspeople, who had generally admired Elizabeth but genuinely liked Christina.

"Please, Christina, you must listen to me! I don't love Will, and I know that he never truly loved me! And I am sorry for what I did, I promise. And I promise I will make it up to you -"

"And why should I believe you, Elizabeth! All my life you've been the favorite, the angel, ever since Mum left. It was in your nature to try to take the one good thing that I had, but I don't feel threatened by you anymore and I wont. Will loves me, Elizabeth, and I love him. And we're going to be married! I will not let you make me feel like I'm less than you for that!"

"And you shouldn't. I'm so sorry, Christina, please forgive me. I can't offer you any proof that I've changed except from this moment on. I will be a sister to you, Christina, if you let me."

1.

If Jack had taken me to any other island, perhaps I would not have believed my sister when she said those words to me. I hardly believed her when she said them, but for looking in her eyes. I let go of Will's hand gently and pressed the tattoo on my shoulder, feeling as though it would burn through my fingertips. I thought of Naneth and Maurya, of Taeryn and Anamaria. Anamaria had done more than betray her sister by running off to join Jack Sparrow's crew, she had betrayed her island. Naneth, who was practically the embodiment of the island spirit herself, had forgiven Anamaria for that. Taeryn had never seen a reason to feel angry with Anamaria in the first place. And Maurya, although she wanted Anamaria to come home, had not forbidden her from leaving.

I thought of Will, and how I had come to forgive him relatively quickly. Of course, my relationship with Will was based on eight years of friendship and loyalty instead of ten years of jealousy and competition, so that might play a role in how I had forgiven him in comparison to how difficult it was proving to forgive Elizabeth. But Elizabeth was my sister, and looking at her I knew that I would once again be doing the island folk a disgrace if I chose to hate her forever.

Elizabeth met my eyes and raised her chin, a look of determination so strongly etched on her face that I think, looking back, it was that that made me nod my head and stiffly kiss her on both cheeks, the way the island folk do. She reminded me of my mother in that moment, even though I could hardly remember my mother. Will would tease me weeks later in our bedroom of our very own house, after we were sated and I was too exhausted to yell at him for it, that in that moment Elizabeth reminded him most strongly then of me.

My father and the Commodore let out audible sighs of relief as we headed to the carriage, and the air seemed like it was teeming with wagging tongues being held at bay until the carriage doors closed and the hoof beats were far off into the distance. The carriage, which was built to hold six people but could really only comfortable seat four, was now full with Will, the Commodore, and my father on one side. Mary, Elizabeth, and myself sat uncomfortably close on the other bench, my sister and I ramrod straight and avoiding each other's eyes.

"That went…well," the Commodore said. I snorted and rapped my fan against my palm, eager to be out of this carriage and anywhere away from here.

"Christina, love, you do know that I was only concerned for your best interests. You were born into a position that is constantly under scrutiny. Your every move is calculated and my dear, you have made some rather…boisterous…moves. You need to be careful or people will talk -"

"Let them talk, then, Father! What do I care what people say? I'm to be married, it isn't as if I need a spotless reputation to snare a suitor! And you've got enough money to make people say whatever you want them to say!"

"But my dear, it has to do with how people treat you -"

"Let them treat me however they see fit. I care very little for these faceless people you seem so very frightened of!"

"Now see here, young lady, you wont speak to me that way. I am your father and you are not to old that I can't take a strap to you!" my father said angrily.

"I am quite too old for you to take a strap to me, father. I'm nearly twenty-one and I am married -"

Commodore Norrington and Will both inhaled sharply. If they hadn't done that, I'm sure it would have gone straight over my father's head that I said I was married and not 'to be married.' "What did you say, Christina?"

I swallowed hard and then raised my chin, pulling my shawl aside to show him the tattoo on my shoulder. My father's jaw dropped and his eyes widened. "What the devil have you done to yourself, Christina? What is that, a tattoo! No daughter of mine will have a tattoo!"

"Then I suppose I am no daughter of yours, Father," I said dryly, noticing with puzzlement how taken aback my father seemed from that comment. He smoothed his features over quickly, however. "I demand that you be rid of it!"

"I wont. Father, Jack took me to an island. The island women there are nothing like the women here. They're wonderful and free and I felt for the first time that people wouldn't look down on me for saying whatever I please and not worrying how it might shock some pruny old lady so that she swoons! And this," I said, indicating the tattoo that he was gracing with a look of revulsion, "they gave me because they made me one of them -"

"Have you lost your mind completely, Christina? Your mother and I made sure you were baptized when you were born, and you stride so willingly into this devilry, this heathendom!"

"They aren't heathens! Jack knows them -"

"I will make sure that criminal hangs if it is the last thing I do! It's his fault you came back like this, he's done something to you!"

"He did nothing to me, Father, except save me from making the greatest mistake of my life. Will and I were married by an island custom whether you like it or not. I know how it will shock people if they find out and endanger your precious reputation, so we will marry officially here. But you have no power over me now," I said, my mouth twisted in a grimace. "I'm a married woman now, and as my husband it is up to Will to do what he sees fit with me." I glared at Will harshly to let him know that if he ever dared to 'do what he sees fit with me' I'd first clobber him on the head and then be out the door in a flash.

My father's face grew red with anger but, to my surprise, Elizabeth reached out her pale hand and touched his arm gently. "It's terribly romantic, Father, and very impetuous but there's no harm done if nobody finds out. And do not blame Christina for this. It's really my fault she felt pushed into this."

"You had nothing to do with it," I said angrily, but Elizabeth silenced me with a hard look and a manipulative smile that she turned on our Father. My jaw dropped - my sister was trying to save my skin and justify my island marriage to Will by taking the blame herself when she'd been miles away. I did not want to be in her debt, but it seemed to be too late. My father was deflating rapidly.

"You are so like your mother," he said, looking between Elizabeth and I so that it was difficult for us to tell just which one of us he was speaking to. The carriage gave an unceremonious bump, Mary moaned and leaned back in her seat with a trembling hand over her eyes, and the footman opened the door to let us all out. The mansion loomed up in front of me, and it seemed smaller and bleaker than when I had left it. I knew then that I would never call it 'home' again.

1.

The Commodore and Will stayed for dinner, which lasted well into dark, before leaving. The Commodore had asked Mary to sit and dine with us but she had blushingly refused, saying it was not her place and that she'd best get back to work. Commodore Norrington was pensive and quiet all throughout dinner, only telling my father why Richard Millar ("the butler's boy," according to my father) had not returned with us. When my father heard about how I had dueled for my freedom, he did not look either shocked or proud, merely nodded his head and said, "Yes, I suppose she would do that." It did seem to anger him, albeit vaguely, that "the butler's boy" had demanded to marry me but otherwise he seemed distracted and unable to stir himself to care very much. I pushed the food around on my plate, sad and dejected that it seemed nobody was very glad to have me home.

Elizabeth kept stealing glances from her seat across from me, but I didn't meet her eyes. I kissed Will goodnight at the door after he tilted my chin up with his fingertips and beseeched me to cheer up, that it was just a shock because no one had expected me home. I shrugged tiredly and then smiled at him purely because he was there and he, at least, loved me. Will is my family now, I reminded myself, and after that I don't need anyone else. It was discouraging, though, to think that my father was not happy to have me safe at home. Rather he was quite frustrated at the way I'd conducted myself, so far from the daughter he obviously wanted me to be.

Elizabeth had gone up to bed and my father was in his study, brooding, when I decided that I had had enough. I opened his door without knocking, to see him still in his wig smoking a sweet smelling pipe that put me back in mind to when Elizabeth and I were four and he would read us stories back in our home in England. It was in the den, in front of the fireplace before we went to bed. Not many fathers read to their daughters, by my father back then seemed especially devoted to us. He always seemed like he wanted us to know he was there as our father, the one he belonged to. When you're a four year old girl, nearly indistinguishable from your twin sister except for hair color and you have no suitors to compete with your sister over, your father is the one you want to marry. When we were four, our father had tried to be our hero, and he had largely succeeded. Things were different now.

"I remember you used to smoke that pipe when you read to Elizabeth and I, back in England. We were four. You never told stories, like Mother. But you read them, and since so few fathers did that, it was brilliant," I offered, sitting across from him and tugging at the lace at my wrists. I'd managed to slop soup on the edges of one sleeve, and judging by how my father's eyes twitched over my sleeves, he noticed too.

"You were my hero then, Papa. And when you told me all those months ago not to be a fool and run away from love, you were my hero again. Father, I'm happy now, can't you see that? It does not matter how I got that way or if official documents accompanied me on the way to happiness…is it not enough for you that I'm happy?"

He looked at me briefly when I said the word "papa," and then looked back to his desk, smoking his pipe in silence. The smell was making me nauseas now, and a breathed in shortly through my mouth. "Fine," I said, my voice breaking. I never realized how dearly I wanted my father to love me the way he loved and doted on Elizabeth, but smelling that blasted pipe brought me back to when Elizabeth and I were just little girls, both of us pretty and dimpled with bows, freckles, and bitten fingernails.

"Just remember, Governor, that you're my father through your own fault, and no matter how I disappoint you or bring shame to the esteemed Swann name, you're still my father."

At last, my father decided to speak. "The truth is, poppet, that I'm not."

A/N: Two chapters in a day. Am I good or am I good. My friend Bei says this reads like a soap opera, which I find to be a faintly vulgar comment, but this is where the damn keyboard sent me and I just followed. I'm sorry if it does sound like a cheesy 2:00 soap (personally, I can't stand them) but I'm still learning here, be gentle. R/R please.