A/N: Why, hello there. I've never been in this fandom before, though I did write the shortest of fanfics back in 2005 when I was a child in love with this franchise. (Well, I guess back in 2005, it wasn't a franchise yet, but still.) That'll never see the light of day, but this new story will. Some background: I've been writing on this website since 2011, mostly Titanic fanfics. Last month my sister and I rewatched all the POTC movies, and let me be clear: it had been years at that point since I'd seen any of them, and I felt my love for them was reinvigorated in that moment. In fact (a coworker of mine hated that I made this comparison, but I'll make it anyway), the story of Will and Elizabeth reminds me a lot of a more quaint, less depressing version of Jack and Rose. (Though don't get me wrong, the end of At World's End completely tore me apart and I realized just how much I repressed it when I watched it again last month.) Anyway. I'm a sucker for forbidden romances, almost always between an upper-class lady and a poor boy. So I feel like it was obvious that I was going to fall in love again with Will and Elizabeth. I have plenty of story ideas in mind for those two, but I'm just having fun for now; I don't know yet how seriously I'll be updating these. I don't even know how alive this fandom is anymore since the franchise hit its peak in, like, 2007. (Revive the best parts of the 2000s, I say.) Regardless, I'm posting this story. I hope someone enjoys it.

A Place to Hide

By Lady Elena Dawson

Chapter 1

Elizabeth had spent the better part of her morning getting dressed. Layer upon layer of garment – stiff, heavy, constrictive – was piled onto her slim frame. As the maids released her hair to reveal perfect rings, one of them placed a translucent veil on the top of her head. "You look stunning, Miss Elizabeth," Marie, a maid in the Swann household for the past five years, said. Only then did Elizabeth finally look at herself in the mirror.

At first glance, she was the ideal bride. She appeared heavenly, virginal, virtuous – everything a bride was expected to be. But inside, behind the clench of her jaw, was a woman trying to escape. A woman who had gotten a taste of adventure, of love – true love – before she had to squander it all to protect him.

"Thank you," she said, accepting the bouquet of purple and white flowers that were handed to her. There was still an hour until the ceremony. The maids let her be, but Marie stayed for a passing second, sending Elizabeth a comforting (but knowing) smile. She'd been there to listen to Elizabeth's sobs the day Will confessed his love for her and she chose not to return it. But what other choice did she have? As long as she behaved as was expected, she could protect Will with the societal power that she wielded. Step beside him, and she'd be cast out.

She sat still for approximately five minutes before dropping her bouquet and allowing her unsettled energy to pick her up and pace across the room. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw his face; her mind was consumed with thoughts of him, of how he had been since they'd last seen each other peering over the ocean to where the Black Pearl appeared in the horizon. She hadn't been to visit him, fearing the pain reflected in his eyes would pierce her already crackling heart.

I must see him. Her heart rate picking up as she obsessed over the thought. I must see him…

Always the proper lady of discretion and cool-headedness – until that day – she ran out of her bedroom and headed into town.

Over a blazing fire, Will sweated over the metal he was pounding over the anvil. Since his once-in-a-lifetime pirate adventure ended with the escape of Jack Sparrow, he'd returned to his duties as apprentice, though sometimes he desired to leave this town. What was left for him here, anyway? The answer was, and had been for years, Elizabeth. But what was he going to do now that she was going to be wed to another? He was stupid for thinking for a second that she could be his, that they could spend their lives together as he'd often dreamed. For a fleeting moment on his journey to rescue her, he believed she felt the same way about him.

"Don't stop," she'd said as he'd placed his calloused hands delicately over her bandaged wound. The look in her eyes, the desire and wanting, made him think that he was imagining things. Their lips had almost met (had she really leaned in to consent to such an intimate touch?), broken by the appearance of the medallion. And then the way she'd returned to rescue him… He couldn't have been dreaming it, could he? She had feelings for him as much as he did for her.

The longing burned up inside him and spilled out of each slam of the metal. His mind went crazy when he thought of her, which was most of the time. He could swear that he could hear her voice sometimes, saying his name—

"Will."

This wasn't in his head. In the doorway appeared someone he would describe as an angel, an ethereal being walking on Earth – and also someone he knew very well.

"Elizabeth," he said, setting aside his work before he became too distracted and burned himself.

Soaked from the rain, in a dress that only accentuated her features that made her so beautiful to begin with, Elizabeth stepped through the doorway. "May I come in?"

"Of course," he said, though he kept his eye contact sparse, her presence more unbearable than the daydreams he'd had about her.

She took a couple of more steps before stopping a distance away from him, watching as he wiped the sweat off his brow and tried to remain rational.

When she didn't say anything, he broke the silence . "You look beautiful."

She felt far less than beautiful. Running through the humid seaside town in the heavy layers of a wedding gown would have pulled at her hair and reddened her cheeks, for certain. But adding the rain on top of it all, for the damp skirt to weigh her down even further, was the impeccable symbol for a somber day meant to be one of the happiest of her young life. Her hair, so perfectly coiled and set in place thirty minutes ago, stuck against her neck and forehead. "Thank you," she murmured, clasping together her hands, her finger still unadorned.

She turned away, preparing to leave but finding it impossible to do so on weak ankles. "I never properly thanked you." Turning back around, she met his dark eyes. They were the same eyes of a boy she'd met years ago, when they were just children, except they were no longer sheltered. The past few months had forced them to grow up, hadn't they?

Approaching him felt dangerous. If she wasn't careful, she'd cave in, and then what would be left between them? Her word protected him from the gallows, and she could only imagine the crushing blow of seeing him hang for simply loving him back.

She placed a delicate kiss on his cheek, the warmth of the fire he was working over still imprinted on it. As she tried to pull away, her eyes got caught on his. Their faces so close, she could lean over an inch and take him in the way she wanted to for years. She could still remember his hand on her face, his voice whispering her name, a soft hush…

Of course he had the propriety to keep his feelings in check, as he had been for several years at that point. He wasn't going to make any further movements, as much as she wanted to feel his breath entangled with hers.

"Goodbye, Will," she whispered, forcing her face away from his. With that, she rushed to turn away and out of the blacksmith's shop, certain that if she stayed for another second, she wouldn't be able to resist running back into his arms.