Elizabeth slowly climbed into the black longboat, casting her eyes away from the crew who still gazed at her in mysterious awe. It had occurred to her, when she grinned as Jack approached them in contempt, that everything was about to drastically alter. She had glanced over her shoulder at Will, suddenly realizing the moment would come when her dirty little secret would be unveiled and her beloved would finally discover that she was everything he did not desire. Will slid into the farthest seat away from the woman, but Elizabeth did not notice or mind, sliding the cuffs of her sleeves over her knuckles in anxiousness. It was finished though. She had repented in the only way possible, but her misdeed still lay in guilt. His rescue, or at least this part of the rescue, had altered nothing. Her heart still ached for murdering Jack and for hurting Will.
Barbossa was the first to rise from the little boat once they reached the Pearl, and he began to scale the gangway, the small crew proceeding one by one. Jack stepped up next, ignoring the man he once called a eunuch and the woman he once was inclined to fancy. Ducking her head, Elizabeth scrambled unsteadily to her feet, her knuckles paling as she gripped the narrow ladder nervously. As the woman ascended the side of the vessel, she absent-mindedly observed Will as he followed and accidentally took one step too many, grasping Captain Sparrow's black boots by mistake.
She managed to whisper a muddled apology, but Captain Jack was already tilting toward her as he remarked blandly, "I'd rather not go back to the depths, Miss Swann."
Elizabeth did not grimace nor did she even reply. The fraught woman just shifted her gaze and removed her slender hand from his foot. She watched him frown at her response; he had obviously expected the same feisty Elizabeth Swann, who would retort an entirely true notion at precisely the right time. She could feel Will's eyes gliding over her, waiting and watching her movement.
--
William stepped onto the Black Pearl's deck, observing Elizabeth as she frantically tried to draw her attention to some sort of duty. She helped lower the other (magically) repaired longboats, so that the Chinese crew could row over from the Locker's shore, but he could not help noticing that her eyes would not leave the recovered captain. He could tell it was not a smitten gaze. He knew that gaze. He, without a doubt, owned that lovely gaze consistently. As he moved to the side to allow other crew members to board, he watched her movements as she chased after Jack.
Her once beautiful and elegant stride was now tainted; her long legs jutted in a strange rhythm as she swerved from one side to the other, and her head which once was held so proudly now sagged beneath the grip of this burden. This wasn't his Elizabeth. She had not just tortured him; she had tortured herself.
Will had thought so furiously that she had delivered that passionate kiss as a final romantic adieu to the captain... As a parting gift of, "I love you. I needed to tell you that before you sacrificed yourself." But it wasn't that in the least bit. She sacrificed Jack Sparrow to save herself and him. Although this overjoyed Will in the darkest corners of his mind, he was also tormented by the fact that she had not trusted him with this laden burden. She had concealed every little pang by ignoring him, by not speaking to him, by not committing herself whole-heartedly him.
--
"Ja-" Elizabeth cut herself off as the two captains feuded, growing more and more frustrated. She just wanted to talk to him... Even though it pained her to think of what stinging words he might utter. "Jack," she futilely tried again, but he barely glanced over his shoulder as the two men bounded toward the helm.
Defeated, Elizabeth trotted toward a gaping hatch; the grate was already lifted aside, and light poured into the dim lower level. The crew was above, ready to make sail, but she sank into a seat on the third step from the bottom, staring blankly at the closed off walls. Everything was exposed in a matter of minutes, and now, Elizabeth had no idea where she stood on Will's side... Or anyone's side for that matter. She had deceived every person she loved...Even her father. He would be so disappointed, she reflected. Knowing she was out here, among filthy pirates, gallivanting away as he sat in that mansion, or worse, sitting alongside Beckett's horrid lot. Elizabeth had no one to lean on, and she didn't deserve anyone either. Guilt punched her stomach from side to side, and with her fists clenched she pounded them softly against her thighs. An eerie presence suddenly caught her eye, and she turned to Will before he even spoke. She could feel the words bloating in his throat, and she awaited them somberly, realizing they were more than likely going to simmer in her heart for ages.
"You left Jack to the Kraken," he stated without much inflection, starting the conversation with a sour twinge. He recognized from the moment they stepped on board that Elizabeth would not wish to speak with him. But they had to... He had to open her up.
She did not expect such a solid statement. Perhaps a, "So that was what you were hiding," or, "This can't work, you know." But not such a testimonial of her sin. Elizabeth had hoped it would aid in solving their problems if they salvaged Jack, but it seemed to only clarify their quandary, not fix it. "He's rescued now," Elizabeth replied, hoping Will would see that this was her redemption, even if it felt bitter at the moment. "It's done with." Will swiveled around, and she rapidly rose. It couldn't end like this! She wanted to know what he thought... What he actually came to say. "Will, I had no choice!" Elizabeth added emphatically, shaking her head slightly.
With his back still turned to her, Will responded weakly, "You chose not to tell me." Witnessing that kiss had pained him but this injured him even worse. This only displayed that their attachment was dwindling. Did she even want to wish to work through this?
"I couldn't," Elizabeth proclaimed. No, it was true. How could she tell him that she was so utterly revolting... That she did not deserve his devotion. "It wasn't your burden to bear."
"But I did bear it, didn't I?" he asked rhetorically with his eyebrows furrowed. What sorrow she had caused! But he could not hate her. Will could never loathe Elizabeth. His sweet Elizabeth. "I just didn't know what it was." He gradually turned to the woman, meeting her soulful screeching eyes. She was asking for help. He knew it, but he could no longer find a way to reach her. With their tremulous breath mingling together he uttered softly, "I thought..." he trailed off, unable to imagine the pair together without feeling his own heart twinge with heartache.
"You thought I loved him," Elizabeth finished for him, suddenly realizing what he must have witnessed. He must have seen her grip Jack's tweed covered arm and press her frail figure against his, twisting her head side to side as her lips ravaged his. Oh, how could she have done such a thing? How could she have been capable of such ruthlessness... How could she torture Will? She had done this to him. Elizabeth had watched their relationship collapsing bit by bit, and she had done nothing! She had just allowed it to happen, so swallowed by her guilt that she could not even care for the one she loved. The woman ducked from his grasp, her eyes searching for the stairs. Run. She had to escapeWill before she hurt him any worse.
William clasped her left shoulder and softly shoved her against the wall's beam, his hips only inches from hers and his eyes grazing over her delicately constructed face. They needed to break the tension before it was too late.
Her eyes slid to his lips subconsciously. Even though it was the most inopportune time, she had only been cornered a few times by Will and they almost always ended with a light kiss.
With his eyes locking onto hers with a fervent attention, every suppressed emotion flooded from his soul and into Elizabeth's as he proclaimed, "If you make your choices alone, how can I trust you?"
Elizabeth replied without hesitation, "You can't." She feebly ducked beneath his muscular arm, taking giant leaps toward the steps and clambering on deck to the safety in numbers.
He slammed his fist against the wall. She didn't trust herself either... That much he was certain of.
(OT: YES. The trust scene. I hope I did it justice. Ah, this really gets the ball rolling. I'm having trouble forming a good land-of-the-dead chapter where Elizabeth says farewell to her father and then Will comforts her.I realize that scene needs to be just right, so it may be a little later in the weekend. Hopefully. Sorry for the lack of updates this week.)