(OT: This must be quick because I have to get up early tomorrow and it is about time to go to sleep. Okay, here we go. This chapter was going to be both Will and Elizabeth, but I decided I really wanted a little Norrington in there, since he had such a small role in the third (which was so wrong to me!) so I decided to do a little of their last scene together and then on to the Empress. I also wanted to explain how Captain Swann got her Chinese wardrobe... Just because one of the critics, Ebert, I think it was, said that somehow, Keira Knightley managed to find a wardrobe unit, a vanity, and a bath (hence my details in the last chapter about her.) So here this one is. Big realization and a little sappy at the end. My apologies, but I had to get it out somehow. Next will be more flipping back and forth when I have more time! Ok, here you go and enjoy! Thanks for all the comments!)
James tugged Elizabeth behind him and with a piercing sound, he removed his sword, looking to the man descending toward them. "Go, I will follow," he ordered sternly, averting his eyes from the woman's face.
The woman gazed at his blank expression, but his eyes flickered in the tension. She wasn't going to let him go, and she refused to allow anyone to leave her. "You're lying," she weakly barked, wishing that she was wrong. Wishing that she hadn't seen that expression upon his face.
Norrington swiveled his head, gazing into Elizabeth deep brown eyes. The eyes he had loved the moment he recognized her as a fine woman, even though he was rejected time after time. "Our destinies have been entwined, Elizabeth... But never joined." James tilted his head, unfamiliar with this action, but feeling the moment swelling. He had wanted her as his lavish bride and had yearned to wake up beside her. This was his farewell. He could not retreat from everything he had turned his back on, but he could not allow Elizabeth to slip away without a token of his love. His lips grazed against hers. James felt the spark, her lips lightly sucking upon his even though it was not passionate.
His light breezy breath mingled with her own as they kissed, and she did not have the notion to try to push him away. At first, she just allowed the kiss and then, at the last moment, realizing what he was doing and what this meant, she opened her mouth a little and sent their almost marriage into his moist mouth. Her eyes fluttered open, staring into his aching face and growing angry that he couldn't just accept this and come with her. "Go! Now!" he partially shouted, and with her jaw set it anger and depression, Elizabeth crawled onto the side and slung her legs around the rope and began her trek toward the Empress' green deck. Norrington's deep voice boomed behind her, "Back to your station, sailor." She heard Bootstrap mutter something and James' strict voice rumble again, ordering Bootstrap to back down. Please, listen. Elizabeth tilted back her head, saw Norrington's decorated sword poised for battle, and then ordered herself not to look again. Please, don't slay Will's father. Don't let this happen. Her prayers turned to God, and she silently whispered as she writhed around the rope.
"Part of the crew, part of the ship!" Bootstrap's voice rose and echoed across the silent ocean. "Part of the crew, part of the SHIP! Part of the crew, part of the ship!" Elizabeth's stomach quivered, telling her a remorseful story she didn't want to hear. The worrisome blood coursed through her veins as she accelerated her speed, shouting for the Chinese men to make haste.
"Steady man!" Norrington cried futilely, but Bootstrap was raging, his eyes wild and his footsteps heavy.
"Part of the crew, part of the ship! ALL HANDS, PRISONER ESCAPE!"
There was scurrying of feet as James attempted to calm Bootstrap again and halt any further awakenings. "Belay that!" he hollered, glancing over his shoulder to the struggling woman.
Elizabeth ducked her head to witness James fervidly yanking a little pistol out of his mustard yellow jacket, and she felt his life crumbling. Davy Jones would discover them, and she would never reunite with Will again. "JAMES!" she screeched, sobs already racking her voice.
Norrington stared over his shoulder as Elizabeth winded her lithe limbs in a forward motion, attempting to move toward the Empress but her muffled weeping forcing her to scoot carefully and slowly. With a twisted frown, James hoisted and cocked the pistol in the air and then fired upon the line between the two vessels. He listened to his love scream as she cascaded into the dark ocean, and he had no choice. Norrington decided that he must silence Bootstrap. But as he spun back around, Bootstrap speared the military man without a hint of remorse, lunging with horrid force. He moaned as he staggered, unable to respond and unable to defend.
Elizabeth thrashed to the surface, spinning in place to see the bow of the Flying Dutchman. Perhaps he would leap after her... She knew it was a futile thought. Maybe Bootstrap would come back to his right mind… Although Elizabeth hadn't expected any less, she was still utterly stunned and squealed violently as James' feeble figure shrunk to the corner of the stern, a sword through his torso. "James!" she shrieked, lashing the water beneath the surface in infuriation. "No!" Elizabeth continued to bawl, rising her voice as James' grew still. It was an elongated refusal that emerged as her frail body was absorbed in the chill. "No..ohh!" Tears streamed down her cheeks, but they blended with water droplets, and she heard Tai Huang commanding the men and weighing anchor. Forced to leave James to his final death call, Elizabeth stroked toward the Empress, visibly quivering as a foreign man offered his hand and pulled her onto the deck.
Captain Swann, as it was, absentmindedly trudged up the staircase, leaving Tai Huang to direct the vessel. Her moist hands trembled, and her intricately designed robe adhered to her arms and legs, the water only bringing reality even more in focus. Elizabeth was failing them. No, she thought, she HAD failed them. She had neglected, disappointed, and failed Jack, her father, her dearest friend, and of course, her dearly beloved, Will. She stomped down the staircase, flipping off her strappy black shoes in the process and releasing her blonde locks from the sagging and mussed bun. By not trusting herself and by forgetting her heart, Elizabeth had created such a strong wall that it dealt out death cards. Failure. She was preventing Will from saving his decrepit father. As she strode into the elaborate but slightly disarrayed chamber, Elizabeth untied the black sash and allowed the robe to dangle from her waist until it finally crumpled to the floor. Her long pants soon followed, and she stood entirely naked in that large room.
Opening a nearby closet, she tugged out a new Chinese wardrobe, that she could only assume belonged to Sao Feng, and draped it over her damp arm. She also withdrew a black tunic with armor at that collar, and not even bothering to dry herself, she slipped on the dress and the heavy intricately detailed jacket that was fastened by several golden buttons that trailed past her thighs. Her mind remained blank as she fastened the pants at the waist and tugged the curled-toe black boots over her wet bare feet. The jacket and three-buckled contraption swallowed her waif figure, so she recovered a wide black bejeweled belt that attached to long armor plates and wrapped it about her mid-waist. She squeaked at the tautness of the belt, and yet, Elizabeth would or rather, could not loosen it.
After rummaging through a few drawers, she found gauntlets to protect her arms with corset-like ties down the middle of them. Attaching them to her forearms, Elizabeth turned on her heels and trotted into the bathing alcove and quickly found her old weapons, still neatly arranged on the side table. She gripped the personalized saber, fingering the initials for a moment before sliding it into its sheath alongside her left leg. As she strolled toward the entryway, a slight glint caught her eye and she found herself gliding in front of a jaggedly cracked mirror. The woman tilted her head to one side and then to the other. She noticed that there were heart-shape gold designs across her chest, and she was reminded of the sacrifice that had been weighing on Mr. Turner's shoulders. The woman realized how torturous these months must have been… Trying to figure out whether Elizabeth loved him or not and realizing that his father was in grave danger of losing his mind on that ship. As she re-fastened her hair in a lower bun, she continued to gaze blankly into the looking glass. Oh what sorrow she had caused. Did she think that her daddy would mend her broken promises and fix every little thing that went wrong? No, she had never truly believed that… But it was a dream she always had. That she would breeze through life as she pleased, floating with the tide and wind and curling beside William at night. She must have been crazy! Elizabeth shook her head, beginning to instinctively pace at her discomfort. Elizabeth had truly deceived and tortured them all at one time or another! All they wanted was to give Miss Swann whatever she desired or required, and she had shunned them and hurt them and lashed them with her spite and words. Angry tears trickled down her cheeks. Oh stupid girl! Stupid, insolent girl! She had weaseled her way into piracy, into what she wanted or thought she wanted, and now it was her time to turn things around, gain her revenge, and tell Will that they were meant to be. That she was so ignorant about herself and everything. Elizabeth could not lose him, and she could not let him lose his father either. Plopping on the final piece of the ensemble, a Chinese influenced hat, she marched up the stairs, kicking her flimsy black shoes to the side and glowered at Tai Huang, who was at the helm, confidently steering them toward Shipwreck Cove. With the flame burning, the man kindly moved away.
"Captain Swann," he murmured lightly and trotted away.
Yes, Miss Swann was no more. She was no longer that little governor's daughter who allowed the world to whirl around her and then she kindly stepped in or aside on a whim. She had to have faith in this mission, in this vengeance…And she finally regained that trust in herself.