Unforgiven by JenniferRain


A/N: This will be a very short, angsty ficlet, J/E, PG13 (for language and suggestive but not explicit sexual referrences)


Disclaimer: Don't own, not mine, no profit, just fun, don't sue. How many two-word phrases can I use in a disclaimer?


Please review. Constructive criticism is appreciated, comments, questions, concerns, and compliments very welcome.


"Yes…" she whispered, her eyes numb from holding back tears, her heart aching from holding back emotions. She tuned out of what the priestess was going on about, gazing into her mug of liquid, savoring the exotic taste of the unknown drink.

She may have broken Will's heart, but she also broke her own. She broke her own soul, and the one she had admired for so long. Sure, at times he was just a foolish, greedy, foul, undeniably annoying git, but he was her Captain. Her friend. Her… No.. She couldn't possibly… could she? Did she? All's fair in love and war… who said love wasn't a war? Who said that closing your heart up wasn't the only way to survive? She wanted freedom, and if she truly ever loved someone, genuinely cared for them, she would have responsibilities. She'd have loyalties. She'd have chance after chance of getting her heart broken or captured, tortured or set free. She couldn't live that way. She needed only to have predictable spontaneity. She needed a planned wildness to survive, and love would quell that. She did what she had to, to protect herself. Sure, she also saved herself and her crewmates and friends from a rather untimely and unlikable death, but she did it only to guard her heart. If she fell in love with the infamous pirate of the Caribbean, nothing would ever be the same. Nothing would ever be easy. She loved challenges, but she couldn't handle this challenge. How can anyone risk their lives and their hearts, and stand in front of someone to ask, beg for them to love them back? Surely he wouldn't love her. He may like her, and enjoy toying with her and looking at her and thinking of her, but that's mainly because he's a man, and she's a woman; a woman who is always at a safe distance emotionally, socially, but always barely out of reach. If he stepped a little farther, he could reach out and touch her, and she couldn't have that. If that happened, she'd lose herself; lose her senses, her logic, and her morality. That's why she did what she did. Rid herself of the temptation and live a life of controlled freedom, allowing herself to be tricked into caring for Will as more than a friend or childhood crush, allowing herself to be chained into marriage and settle as a house wife, dreaming and imaging her life as a pirate. She put up walls and established a cold heart, without the ability to love. Or so she hoped. Her façade was breaking, slowly. She allowed herself to love the man she had condemned, and it was condemning her, too.

Footsteps. Loud, thudding footsteps descending the stairs. They sounded almost like... she shook her head, scolding herself for her outrageous thinking. 'He's dead. You saw him die.' She rose from her seat, bidding herself to forget about what she had done, who she had betrayed. She approached the base of the stairs with her friends, looking up, horrified at the sight in front of her.

"So, what's become on me ship?" came a grisly voice from above them, the speaker biting into an apple, the juice running down his beard and the monkey chattering on his shoulder. Everyone gawked at the man, save for the witch, who merely raised an eyebrow at Elizabeth. Sensing eyes on her, Elizabeth turned to the woman, who told her through her thoughts on phrase that sent shivers down her spine and guilt to her already heavy heart; "I know what you did to him."


A/N: More relatively soon, within the next few days.