She didn't
love him. You couldn't love a pirate.
But she
cared for him, much to Will's astonishment.
In his
last final days, he saw no other person but her and the prison
guards.
He only
remembered her, though.
An angel of mercy, bringing a shining halo into the Port Royal cells. Other men shied from her as her skirts brushed the cell bars. Some reached out for a brisk touch as they were dragged to the gallows.
A good luck charm, the Governors Daughter.
Commodore Norrington nearly forbade it. Nearly. He saw the unshed tears in her eyes as she turned away, and changed his mind. He'd always wondered what his heart was for.
And so she came. A pale, set figure. A woman, who deep inside wondered if she'd done enough. Oh she'd run, and broken through those bonds of society to the other side. A good long run.
Maybe she
could have gone all the way through.
But she'd
lost her chance. No room to run anymore. Sandwiched between the two
worlds of 'Rich' and 'Poor'.
She liked
it down here. It was cold and damp, made of stone and steel. It smelt
like wet hay and sounded to the groans of sinners yet to be sent to
Hell.
Like Jack.
Jack never
groaned though.
No matter
how many new scars had appeared, or how many bruises patched his
skin.
Elizabeth
kept watch. She presided over His Majesty's prisoners like a
mother. A young, troubled mother, who had no children of her own, but
adopted the ones left behind.
Jack
nick-named her The Virgin Mary. The French prisoners whispered 'Notre
Dame' as she walked past. But she
had kind eyes and healing hands only for him. She knew the guards
hated him, knew those wounds were not from the imaginary fight or
brawl the redcoats made up for her. She'd seen the whips and
bayonets. The clubs and swords.
Oh, for the return of innocent eyes.
When they arrived to take him, agents of Satan in red, Will held her back, shouting she must let him go. But she would not. Uncharacteristically Jack said nothing. He looked into her with pirate's eyes and stole the most precious treasure the earth could give.
Elizabeth was glad he took it. He hid it well too. It went with him to his grave, but she did not care.
What need had she of a heart now anyway?
