Oh patience! Patience and forgiveness, dear readers. I'm human and mistakes come VERY easily to me. This has become somewhat of a historical little fiction and so i'm bound to have a few slip-ups! Let me appologize for past mistakes and (i'm quite certain) future ones as well. I know some of you out there are whizes at this kind of thing...but i'm not. So let there be a little slack...and most importantly: Enjoy the Story!!!

-InnerSmile

In her dream, Elizabeth sat next to Will. Though it wasn't the same loving touches and tender handholdings that usually marked their sittings together. Instead they were relatively separated – at a bench outside on a lovely summers day. It was one of those dreams were you felt you had just been dropped right in the middle of, as if this happening had been going on for sometime now but your brain came in at a not-so-important moment. In this case it was in the middle of a conversation.

Will was sitting, quite straight backed with his hands in his lap and his eyes straightforward. Elizabeth was doing most of the talking, or so she thought, for the sound hadn't caught up to her yet, it was merely the rapid movement of her lips and the occasional flurry of her hand that caused her to make the assumption. Then, finally, the syllables and rise and fall of their voices made themselves known, low at first but after a second or two it was indisputable.

"…so by then the guests had already left and there was nothing more for me to do." She heard herself say, ending with a light chatter of a laugh.

Will eased a polite smile and remained silent, realizing he had nothing to add to the subject. Then Elizabeth glanced over to her left and noticed how uptight he still was, how his hands mechanically would ball up into a fist and release itself without much cause, and decided to continue her pursuit in lengthening the conversation.

"I hear your business is doing very well! Also, there's talk of you moving the shop. Where to may I ask?"

Will's attention was peaked at the mention of his trade, something he could speak of to no end…but it was soon that his face slightly fell again, coming to the conclusion that his partner in conversation was only being polite and had no interest in his shop in the least. He began anyway.

"Yes, things are going quite well. Since Mr. Brown passed on, all the deeds and responsibilities have been passed on to me." Will paused for a moment and took a breath, hoping the uneasiness in his voice would die out. But as soon as he opened his mouth it was to no avail because the nervousness he was feeling wasn't going anywhere. "I was um…also thinking of closing the shop here in Port Royal. Possibly going back to England."

Elizabeth saw her face darken with disappointment, but her tone never changed.

"Oh?"

She cleared her throat and eased herself again. "Oh…what brought that on?"

Will stood suddenly and shrugged. He thrust his hands in his pockets and turned away from her. Suddenly Elizabeth saw what she hadn't noticed before: Will was older, much older, as was she. These were two middle-aged people in a polite mid afternoon conversation. Will turned to her again was opened his mouth, about to speak when a string of voices interrupted him. They grew near quite rapidly and soon he was lost in his attempts to explain by the new guests in Elizabeth's dream: A boy, about 18 years old, his lanky younger brother following behind, who was at least 16 and the third boy no more than 12 at their heels, struggling to keep up.

"Mother? Mother, there you are! Tea is being served and father has been looking all over for you." Said the eldest brother. His eyes quickly fell on Will who was still standing, watching the conversation.

"Mr. Turner…" He said as he gave a slight bow but the contempt in his eyes was hard to hide.

Elizabeth felt the tension begin to rise, and she stood quickly to draw the attention elsewhere. "Yes, I'll be right there Jimmy." She said, in an attempt to divert the boys and leave the adults to say their goodbyes. But the middle son stepped forward and with a sternway about him, offered his mother his arm back to the house. Elizabeth saw no way to steal a moment, just a split second to say farewell the way she wanted to – properly. But she also knew that the boy's father knew exactly where she was and whom she was with, why else would have sent a whole entourage to rescue her.

To Elizabeth, who was sleeping – not soundly at this point, this was as if she was actually living the events. Sometime from the point where she came into this idle conversation to this, it had become a living, breathing, life…not a fuzzy dream any longer. She could feel the heat of the hot Caribbean sun beating down on her once more.

"I – I must go." She said, turning to her guest once again, an apologetic smile plastered on her lips.

"Indeed." He replied quietly, staring a speck on his rough boots.

Elizabeth nodded and proceeded to let her sons take her away towards her large mansion of a home, a few yards away from the garden where they were standing now. "Good day!" she said, casting the goodbye over her shoulder.

Will's head lifted and he took a few determined paces forward. "Mrs. Norrington!" He called.

She halted, although the young men around her silently wanted her to press on and leave this lonely man behind them, where he belonged.

"I'm leaving because there is nothing left for me. Port Royal no longer has any need of me and I believe it is safe to say that I will not be missed." During his small speech, Will made perfect eye contact with her, which was something he had failed to do until then. He held her gaze a moment, even after he was done speaking. Then, strangely he knelt his soft brown head and kissed her hand. His lips even lingered for a moment, letting them rest on her soft, faint pulse. Even stranger than that, after his lips left the back of her hand to took one of her fingers and traced it up to his cheek and they both remained there, that way for a few small seconds – to that man and that woman it felt like eternity.

Elizabeth's heart sank, no…it broke. She could feel it breaking. All she could do was look at him. She wanted to say something, anything to make this man feel like he truly was worth something. Not just something but he was worth everything to her. Instead all she could do – between being practically dragged off by her sons, and heartbroken by his words – was shake her head. Instead of only a finger touching his tanned skin, her palm opened and she cradled her forbidden love's sweet head.

"How many times must I tell you, Will? Call me Elizabeth."

The baby in her womb awoke her from her nightmare. It took her a minute to realize that the unrelenting sun was really the fact that she was laden with covers and perspiring under her nightdress. The pull she felt from her three sons was her mind trying to tell her that it wasn't true, it wasn't her life, and that she needed to get out of there and come back. She also came to the conclusion that the dream – the nightmare was an alternate future. A pale, complacent existence of what life would have been like if she would have stuck to her promise and married James Norrington. She and Will would have went through their life as strangers. Two people who happen to meet somewhere in their childhood, taken a great adventure and returned safely back at home and to their normal and mundane lives and after years of formality had taken its toll they merely chatted idly about the weather and roads, when permitted to be in each other's presence….

Yes, its safe to say that it was a nightmare.

It had no relevance. Elizabeth didn't understand what had brought it on. She lay there for a while, her hands laying gently on her middle, just listening to her husbands rhythmic breathes. Did it mean anything? Or was her mind, in its own strange way, telling her-reassuring her, that although rough times were here, and rough times were ahead that she made the right decision. Her life with Will Turner was, in the end, the one truly good and meaningful thing she had done in her life. Yes…Elizabeth was content enough to fall back asleep and be contented in knowing that her dream was just reassurance.

She rolled over on her side with a little bit of difficulty. She was seven months pregnant now and she was feeling the strain. The baby was much more feisty than Katie had been and her stomach seemed to be growing at a faster rate, which puzzled she and Will for the first pregnancy was so premature and Liz was small in comparison to what she was now. Again, to much disapproval from Mrs. Yates, Elizabeth hardly gained any weight. It was all in her belly and breasts but the pregnancy for the most part didn't seem to be affecting her body.

Seven months…the soldiers who still rested downstairs had been in her home for six of those seven months and had wreaked havoc on the Turners'. Not in a physical way, but there mere presence was all that was needed to stiffen a room. Will had been obliging at first and did as he was asked. He showed the General the terrain, taught him everything he knew about the loyalties, personalities, and views of the people living around their area. They had come to find General Graham an agreeable man for the most part, a picky eater by most peoples standards, and a self taught watch and timepiece repairman. Yes, the tall, imposing, middle-aged military man was a shop owner in Surry. They had also learned during his stay that he was a widower with no children and had enlisted in the army when he was 26. Though Elizabeth had tried to persuade herself to distain the man, she had come to grow to be fond of him, she could even stand to be in the same room as him and carry on a short conversation! That was progress considering the avoided him and his men like the plague for a good three months. Katie had found their stay most agreeable. One of the soldiers she took a liking to. It was the young man, Thomas, who had tried to assist Elizabeth on that dreadful awkward morning in the kitchen. As she had noticed before he was a very young man. Her age, or close to it in fact, and a kind man with a surprising gentleness about him. Elizabeth had been around many soldiers for much of her life and usually there were two kinds: the rough rogue who swore in the presence of ladies, and the dapper gentlemen who cringe at the thought of actually picking of a pistol and firing it, mostly getting into the military for their uniform finery. But Thomas was neither of these. He was simply a kind person and liked to play games and occupy Katie when her mother was busy. Usually Elizabeth would take her daughter over to the Harrington's for an afternoon and in return in a favor for Lucy, Elizabeth would care for Tristan. But it had now been months since the two families had spoken. Liz wasn't even sure if Lucy knew she was pregnant or not. She yearned for her friend so horribly. She wished so much that they could see eye to eye and reconcile. Will went to work, as did Nathan everyday. And everyday when he came home Liz would inquire as to if he made any progress. Will would always shake his head in futility. They worked in silence; each to his own anvil and stove, only speaking when one was closer to a tool than the other. Elizabeth even went to Lucy's house with a basket of fresh fruit and a friendly smile to greet her. But above her head on the second story she saw a flourish of a curtain and a glimpse of a face…and no answer at the door.

Elizabeth was interrupted from her thoughts by faint voices outside. She gently got out of bed and went a couple of steps to the window, barely peeking around its corner. She saw Lucy and Nathan standing outside, Nate on the outside of the gate and Lucy on the inside. He was embracing her tightly and she saw her friend's shoulders shake with sobs. What was that in Nathan's hand? The moonlight was glinting off metal that caught her eye…his right hand was gripping – gripping a – a gun! Yes, Nathan's hat was firmly on his curly blonde head and his rifle was now being slung across his back, Lucy was kissing him again, they spoke, then kissed, then spoke, then kissed for the last time before Nathan took his horses reins in his hands and threw himself up on his steed. She could tell that Lucy was doing all she could from grabbing at his trousers and pulling him down from there, and begging, pleading him to stay. But she didn't. She stood there with a handkerchief in hand and waving goodbye to her husband as he spoke her another farewell and took off as fast as he good down the dark road, due south, out of sight. Elizabeth stood there a while…as long as Lucy stood alone in her yard. She watched as she dejectedly returned to her porch and went quietly into her home. It was clear now what Nate had done. He had joined the Rebels.

She looked across to the horizon and noticed the gray hue that was rising in the east. The sun was about to make itself known. Soon her husband would rise and then she would tell him the solemn news of Nate's decision. Elizabeth only hoped that her husband did not share his same fate of service. Seeing Lucy so heartbroken, so emotionally beaten was not what she wanted to feel one day as she watched her husband ride off – not knowing what will become of him…

Oh but how little she knew the King's Men.