(OT: My oh my... And this chapter started out so small. Haha, now look at it! Well, I granted your request, but not entirely... About the lashes that is... You will see...)

Elizabeth sidled through the vine-like streamers, escaping the men's avid attention to the journey and investigating the new abode. She strolled to an open door in the far right corner and barely caught herself from falling into the shallow river, the ledge dropping at least five feet. The woman spun around and approached crates of wine and rum, her mind eager for a foggy distraction. After grasping a bottle and popping the cork, she swigged nearly one-half of the contents and plopped on the damp wooden floor by a large chest, engraved with depictions of the ocean's swirling tide.

It was their second day staying in Tia Dalma's shack, and it seemed there were always something to explore and a vacant place where Elizabeth could remove those burden thoughts from her mind. As she guzzled a little more of the liquid, she contemplated the revealed reasons in a misty haze as the alcohol began pulsing through her blood.

So Barbossa only desired to rescue Jack because of the East India Trading Company's threat to piracy, and she yearned to rescue him to soothe her guilt. And Will, she pondered curiously, her mind reeling in an rare manner, What did he desire? Why was he going? It was true, she knew Will to follow her, but she had barely made contact with him. She could not imagine he would want to be in her presence much longer... Nor Jack's. He could take his leave if he so wished... But his perpetual vision soon came into view; Will had pined for her since they were twelve years old, and he would continue to pine for Miss Swann until he cradled her heart. She rubbed her temples at a light throb, and she outstretched her hand and fiddled with the dangling padlock on the odd chest. She crawled to her knees and gently flipped the large container open. Mounds of clothes were neatly folded and stacked, and on the opposite side, there were heaps of weathered letters with their golden seals broken. She gently gripped one and opened the yellow tinted paper. Elizabeth's eyes widened as she read the brief inscription, her eyes focused on the signature.

Liefde,

Kapitein Davy Jones

The woman was stunned. Tia Dalma had contact with him... With the captain of the Flying Dutchman. The one who sentenced Jack Sparrow and his precious Pearl to the locker... She attempted to skim the Dutch writing for any specific words, but there wasn't much point. Elizabeth, as expected, had little knowledge of the foreign language.

"You should not be in dere!"

The unfurled letter plunged back into the chest as Elizabeth visibly shook at the roar of Tia Dalma's voice. "I'm sorry... I didn't..."

"What did you see?" When Elizabeth stuttered and quickly clamped the chest closed, Tia Dalma repeated in a booming voice, "What did you see?!" The Jamaican woman stalked over to the dirty blonde woman and gripped her wrist, hauling Elizabeth to her feet.

Will barged into the chamber with his fists clenched. "What is happening?" His eyes scanned the women's postures and noted Elizabeth's frightened expression.

Tia Dalma continued to glower at Elizabeth, not even swiveling her head at the sound of the intruder. "Nah-ting she did not deserve." She clamped her wrist even tighter, and Elizabeth's hand began to grow pale.

Will strode over to the pair, his eyes fiery at Tia Dalma's haughty tone. "Release her."

"Will, I'm-"

He lowered his voice. He wasn't about to allow Tia Dalma to injure Elizabeth whether it was physically or verbally. "I said, release her."

Elizabeth swore she heard Tia Dalma growl a curse or incantation under her breath, but the voodoo woman released her nonetheless. "Fine den." Tia Dalma announced stridently, her long nails scraping against Elizabeth's arm as she exited the room. "One day... You will discover how cruel I can be." she snarled at the couple.

Will turned to Elizabeth, who rubbed the red ring around her wrist. He grabbed her hand to eye the mark, but then retracted his grip. He hesitantly inquired, "Are you all right?"

"Yes, thank you." She nodded and recovered the sparkling wine. "But I would have been fine on my own," she added lightly as she shrugged her shoulders. "She had a right to be angry." Elizabeth glided away from the chest and leaned against the wall, gazing through the gaping doorway as she swigged the drink once more.

Will pursued her, casting a quick glance at the leather bound container and then to the Elizabeth's swaying locks. "What did you do?" He slid between the lovely girl and the doorway, increasing their proximity.

"I just..." she trailed off to cautiously form her words. "I found something that I had no right looking at."

It was such a vague response, which only induced Will's curiosity at her discovery. "What was it though?"

"A Dutch letter..." She sighed and leaned forward to where their noses were almost touching and whispered, "From Davy Jones." Elizabeth reclined back against the wall, gazing into the river guiltily. Perhaps it would have been best if Will had no known.

Will pondered the possibilities of Tia Dalma's relations with the squid-faced man, but they exited his mind when he caught Elizabeth's distraught stare. "You were right to tell me. We should not conceal anything from one another." It was a bold statement to declare, after vowing that it was a useless cause to pursue her heart, but he only desired genuine confirmation while at the same time he never wanted to hear those delicate words from her lips, unless they were directed to him.

Elizabeth's neck snapped to look at Will, and she could not stand his insistent gaze baring into her, reading her thoughts like he always did. The woman spun around and trotted toward the entryway, avoiding locking eyes with him again.

"Elizabeth, I hate that we are not talking." His voice rose in a trilling tone, one that vibrated through her whole body. William observed the sag of Elizabeth's disposition as she nodded her head. After replacing the half-full bottle in the crate, Elizabeth departed without even a fleeting glance at her beloved.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Elizabeth stirred from her slumber at the sound of a prolonged groan and a few hisses, slinking from the single white sheet and grasping the solitary blazing candle off of the oak dresser. She entered the adjoining chamber where Will, Gibbs, and Captain Barbossa slept, and she strolled easily about the chamber until she discovered Will's sprawled body, his muscular wounded back exposed. She gasped as she knelt next to the man, gently stroking his shoulder to rouse him from his painful sleep.

"Will," she whispered.

He murmured something inaudible and then lifted his head. "Elizabeth? Why are you here?" William partially rolled over, but Elizabeth grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back toward her. One of his eyebrows arched curiously as she subconsciously stroked back his loose brown tresses that drooped in his eyes.

"You were moaning in your sleep," the woman replied as she tacitly commanded him not to stay in position. "And your back is bleeding badly." She inched backward and waved for him. "Come into the front room, and I will wrap your back."

"That isn't necessary; I'll be fine, Elizabeth." His tone was firm as he sat up and bent forward, feeling the sticky blood dribble down his lashes and onto the floorboards.

She would not have it, finally slipping from her conscience's guilt and into worrying about Will's own needs. Elizabeth stared at him in an unwavering way, and Will almost smiled. He could see her again; he could see (his) Elizabeth's loving eyes gazing at him instead of those eyes that belonged to Jack. He stood up and followed her into the front room and he quickly dragged a chair in front of the lady.

After lighting another candle, Elizabeth rummaged through a few familiar drawers, withdrew several elongated pieces of cotton material, and set a candle on either side of Will. Using the thickest section of fabric, she wiped it around William's deep gushing gashes, and he winced whenever she approached the thinnest incisions.

"They hurt the worst." he whispered as Elizabeth mothered his injuries. Even though the lashes stung like one thousand bees pricking his skin, her fingers absolved the ache and replaced it with the past joyous emotions.

"Yes," she replied in a tender tone. "The small ones always do." She stretched out the cloths and unraveled the longest one, constructing a rough measure of the width of Will's chest. "I will wrap the ones that are bleeding the most. A few seem to be healing." Elizabeth remarked. She had never been this close to Will... Or at least not when his layers of clothing were thrown aside.

He raised his arms at the impending wrapping and clenched his teeth to refrain from cursing. Will gulped down his thoughts of a lovely dream where he and Elizabeth were in a similar situation, although it ended quite differently.

She crouched under his arms, soaking in his salty scene (while realizing that he had definitely bathed) and admiring the contours of his build. The woman gently stretched the strip of material across his back, ducked under his arms, and ended eye-to-eye with his chest. She glanced up at his strange pleasant expression and pulled the material taut to tie it.

"Most people do not laugh at their pain." A strangled smile emerged and then fell from her face.

"No, but it seems we've come a little closer..."

If he said more, Elizabeth did not hear it as she abruptly stood up and gazed at Will. It had clicked that she had forgotten the burden that made her heart twinge, and the process, unfortunately, began again. The woman continued the procedure though, wrapping three strips of fabric across each wound and tying them at the front in diminutive knots over the next several minutes. "There, now," she said almost sternly, nodding in approval at her own labor.

His eyebrows furrowed. What had happened? He thought that something had altered... That something had occurred that made her change her mind... But now, she stood before him with that same strange expression, unwilling to make eye contact or speak as if they were more than acquaintances. He clasped her hands; she wasn't running away. "Elizabeth, why can't you tell me?"

"What?" She attempted to move in reverse, but he kept her steadily in position, only a few inches from his bare chest.

"You're keeping something from me... You can tell me anything." He squeezed her slender fingers, wishing that he could kiss those beautiful hands.

"No," her voice quivered, and she furiously shook her head in disapprobation. "I can't."

"Why, Elizabeth? Please let me be there for you." It was his one request of her. To be there, forever and always, even if it were a mild relationship. At that moment, he suddenly realized how much he missed those lips... And those soiled cheeks... He wanted to make everything perfect again. He desired to see her satisfied with her life... Satisfied with him.

"No, Will..." He rose from the chair, still holding her hands, and leaned forward. Of course, he did not intend on attempting a kiss, but it did cross his mind as a fleeting thought. "I'm sorry...Will." She unintentionally threw down his hands and stepped away. "I can't."

Will nodded and answered softly, "I think I understand now."

She spun around, her face absorbed in horror. Did Will know? Did he know that she finished Jack off and betrayed everyone? "You know?" she inquired, stepping forward again. Perhaps... If Will did know of the betrayal or if he was assured now, that maybe he had accepted her. Maybe he had accepted her all along, but she was too blinded to realize it.

The man nodded again, and now he was the one to turn away from the confrontation, his heart skipping a few beats as he re-entered the dark chamber with a candle in his hand. He returned to his sleeping area and eased himself onto the nest, holding his head in his hands. That was all the confirmation he needed. She loved Jack.

Elizabeth couldn't fathom what he was thinking... Was he was aware of at that instant? Had she revealed everything with barely any speech? She wondered if he had seen Jack chained to the mast or knew her so well that he immediately realized that Elizabeth would even go to the most extreme action to save them. But he had turned away. He had completely turned away once he uttered that he knew of her sin...Meaning that she was not forgiven... Now Elizabeth was certain that she was forsaken.