(OT: This is the first love-scene I have ever written. I tried to do what I was most comfortable with and let the characters take me. I wanted to make a point of letting you know that Elizabeth and Will don't know if he will return for the rest of his life or whether it is just one day ashore. I also decided to show both sides of doubt, hence the switching of scenes (you'll see!). I hope you enjoy it. I hope it makes you sad and happy and I hope I made is passionate, lovely, and bittersweet. Up next will be the final chapter...)
As Mrs. Elizabeth Turner trotted to the shoreline, she removed her glinting saber and thrust it into the sand, smiling at the treasured present. She turned her head as she watched men scurry on the Flying Dutchman in the distance, and as she writhed her hands nervously, the woman stepped into the lapping waves, a small smile creeping. She squinted, watching for Will's black longboat, but for several minutes, she did not spy her husband plowing through the ocean. Elizabeth swallowed the lump in her throat, suddenly feeling an overwhelming sense that something was wrong. That perhaps… Will couldn't step on land. She wrenched her dainty feet out of the suctioning sand to step forward and released a soft sigh.
"Elizabeth," a hoarse voice called.
She turned a full 180 to see Will Turner with the chest tucked beneath his arm. "Will!" she cried, ignoring her heavy feet as she hastily galloped toward him. Realizing her intent, the man chucked the chest safely to the ground, away from the crashing waves and their impending embrace. Elizabeth plunged into his strong arms, wrapping her arms around his neck, and even though he expected her frail body, he hadn't expected the power. His knees wobbled and suddenly he was tumbling backward into the soggy sand.
"I thought I lost you," she said as she nuzzled against his sweet, salty scent.
"No," he whispered as his arms stroked her thick armor and propped himself up on one elbow, raising his brown head out of the shallow water. It was bliss to feel her so warm and secure and know that she was his wife, his Elizabeth.
"But how did you…?"
"I'm not sure, but it stills time as I transport."
It sounded far too formal. Far too civilized for such a reunion, and so the couple shrugged the particulars off, and they, without a word, rising to a sitting position, gritty sand and mushy muck clinging to their clothes. His arm looped about her slim waist and then slid beneath her thick, muscular legs. She smiled slightly as Will hoisted her into the air, and then they gazed at one another as Will trudged past the chest and paused at the single sabre. With a small grunt, Elizabeth removed William's own sword and nodded to her husband. He graciously stooped down, and Elizabeth flung the sword into the sand, crossing their weapons in a majestic fashion. He halted at the largest and flattest rock and gently situated his wife in a temporary seat. They stared at one another, a simple calm settling over them as his legs pressed against her spread knees. He leaned forward, as did Elizabeth, and their lips tenderly grazed against one another. Her lips tasted of salt and felt like a loaded gun, pulsing for more. Will yearned to give her everything she wanted, even though her lips were now pulling back. Their embrace separated, and then he wrapped his arms around her gaunt covered shoulders, and they kissed with greater confidence. Elizabeth twisted her hands in the loose material of his maroon blouse, and at the same time, plucked ineffectually at his orange-striped sash. Her layers of clothing suddenly became an vile burden to William, and his fingers slithered around her waist and unlatched the festooned black belt, leaving it to roll off the jagged sides of the rock as the Chinese silks took a different, larger form. Will knelt down, his hands crawling down her hidden legs and tugging off her black booties and then returning to her lips.
Elizabeth sighed as their annoyance became a restless, sensuous wrestling, his calloused, adoring hands gradually unfastening each metal latch, and her own tossing his sash and blouse to the side. She stretched out her arms, a chill vibrating through her figure and sending tingles to her toes as he sent the Chinese jacket to the ground. Oh, how long she had waited for this blessed moment. As her feet touched the ground with an exultant sigh, Elizabeth wriggled out of her black trousers and eyed Will's muscular upper torso. The sea and labor had done him good. Her eyes alight as the muscles in his arms flexed, Will picked up her gaze as he kicked off his other leather boot. He smiled, and she returned the gesture, and then they were in one another's arms, she in her lightly armored tunic, and he in only his trousers. He whispered her name seductively as they gradually glided between the rocks, where Elizabeth had previously laid out two blankets, and then they crumpled into the ground in one smooth movement. She laced her fingers through his silken tendrils, and he held her delicate jaw-line before his lips glided down, granting pleasurable wet kisses down her neckline. Her hands went to his waistband. She wanted him; she wanted him closer.
Will abruptly stopped and lifted his eyes to his wife, her legs slung across his lap and her eyes growing quizzical. "I don't want to hurt you," he said quietly, his eyes glancing away from her face. He had heard of what women suffered, while men were granted immediate satisfaction, and he never wished for his Elizabeth to experience that much pain.
"But you must," she replied without hesitation. "For the sake of pleasure." A mischievous grin broke, and she leaned into him, ravaging his lips with such enthusiasm that her suffering was put aside. Will gently pressed his beloved to the ground, and he kissed her fluttering eyes and parted her pouted lisp with his moist tongue. Their kissing soon became a fond gnawing as she bit him hard on his lower lip. Will pulled away and kissed her throat, making Elizabeth tilt back her blonde locks, releasing a soft moan as she pushed his face down against her breasts. There was a small amount of fumbling before he found her nipple, tiny and hard, and wrapped his mouth around it. He repeated it with the other, and her spine went ridged as sensations she had never experienced swelled within her body. He rose to his full height again, but she was now sliding beneath him, her hands drumming down his chest until she took his nipple into her mouth. It was unbearable. He created a nibbling path up her smooth neck, and then he kissed her beneath their earlobe. Their lips met again, her arms clasped behind his head, and their breathing agitated, desiring, yearning.
"Lizzie," he whispered in her ear. "My Lizzie."
She had long ago forsaken that nickname, but now it was a seductive hissing on the "z" that she had never heard before, and she had never expected Will to use anything other than her name. It was fantastic. Her arms flopped above her head in pure bliss, and Will's left hand was now sliding up her thigh and raising the hem of the tunic over her head. Now more than ever, all the blundering and worries that neither would know what they were doing disappeared, and their eyes locked for a moment. Elizabeth then returned the favor, tugging on his waistband a final time before Will finally released his throbbing self. For a moment, they basked in the glory of their nude figures, and his hands cupped her petite left breast and then the other before kissing them both. Her hands glided down the contours, and she whispered his name in bidding. The pair held their breath as the membrane parted, and when it did, Elizabeth turned away quickly, holding back her scream of pain as their bloods mingled. It did hurt, but not as severely as she had thought. No, now a new sensation was coming… And it was lovely. Her hips rotated beneath Will's, surprisingly not finding pain anymore but finding pleasure instead. He thrust into her, and she moaned and screamed a few times in pain and then at the utmost delight when the delicious sensation spread through her body. She screamed his name, and he hissed hers again. Her teeth raked against his sinewy shoulder as he thrust into her again, and a small sough escaped the back of her throat as she arched her back, moving in rhythm with him. The pleasure mounted until they both reached their climax, and Will rolled away, his damp hair curled into sweaty ringlets and his chest heaving up and down as Elizabeth glanced to him.
He crawled back toward her, looping his arm beneath her shoulders and pulling her close. "Forgive me, Elizabeth," he said, brushing back her damp locks. He wanted her more than once, but by the puzzled expression on her face, he thought she was unsatisfied and would more than likely leave him with that one blessed moment.
"Why?" she asked blankly, rolling her head on Will's chest.
"Did I not… hurt you?" He propped his head on one elbow, his eyebrows furrowing.
She shook her head and smiled as she whispered a solid, "No, not at all." Her slender fingers climbed up his chest, and she stroked his fuzzy whiskers as she said, "I suppose immortality has its benefits." They lay there for a moment, his calloused hand rubbing her thin arm, and her nude form pressing as close to Will as possible. So that was the act. And it was marvelous. As she rose up, the flaring sun cast a beautiful glare behind her blonde, lovely locks, and she then asked, "Can we do it again?"
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The torturous son painted flames across the gentle swells of the waves as Will and Elizabeth floated in shallow water, her hands swathing his tan shoulders and his arms wrapped about her waist. They drifted in the cove, the quiet of the area so stilling as they explored each other's bodies once again, finding the act of love somewhat tricky, but entirely pleasurable in the ocean.
"It is so quiet here… Just the two of us," Elizabeth said as she tilted back her head, dipping her loose hair into the water. Quiet but perfect was what she meant. Yes, this must be heaven. If it wasn't, well, God had quite an experience to amount to. Elizabeth straightened his slightly crooked green bandana, smiling at the new addition to his wardrobe. He had refused to remove it during their… Persistent and constant love-making, and she didn't intend on asking again.
"Yes, it is our little haven," he replied in a murmur, gripping her tautly and shifting her closer again him, thrilled by the feel of her small bare breasts against his chest. He tenderly brushed aside her drenched locks and smiled gently. She was beautiful. She was his goddess. Venus, Aphrodite, Calypso… She surpassed them all by several lengths.
"I cannot stay here." Her tone was solemn.
"What?" Panicked, Will completely dropped the embrace, accidentally dunking his wife. She wouldn't wait? But she had said… Again and again. Not promised, but she had told him. He would have forgiven Elizabeth for not wanting to wait ten years, but…
The woman burst through the water, her arms thrashing as she smacked Will playfully against his chest. She tread back into his arms and patted his pec as she leaned her exposed figure against him again. "No, no," she said gently, "I mean, here. In this bay. I will have to move somewhere that is safer." She heard him release a gentle sigh in relief, and she chuckled at his absurd assumption. She loved him. Body and soul. Bewitched from their first day and would be till their last. She pondered the ideas for a moment. Port Royal was out of the question. Governor's daughter, captain of the Flying Dutchman. What gossip would abound! "Shipwreck Cove, perhaps?" she suddenly surmised, arching both her eyebrows. "I am Pirate King, after all."
"And you can rule properly while I'm gone," Will added lightly, recalling those precious moments between the bars of Port Royal's cells. He squeezed his hands into the small of her back and then spun in a slow, swirling circle, the manmade waves merging into Calypso's sea.
"Eagerly, you mean." She smiled and wiped the water from her eyes. "We're safe here, right now, aren't we?" Elizabeth asked almost mockingly, surveying the cove and its splendor. The rocks seemed to be arranged and sized just for them to sit or make love on, the stretches of glorious beach were perfect for galloping and playing, and these waters were perfect for more love and more playing. Yes, a definite haven.
"Yes, my Lizzie," he whispered, sending vibrations through her again. That name. Oh that sweet, seductive endearment turned her onto love, and Will had quickly figured that out. Realizing she wasn't quite in the mood again, he added, "You are always safe in my arms." His rough hands began to massage her smooth bare back, rubbing up and down her prominent spine and even curling around her ribs occasionally. He wanted to stay this way; he desired to make every second last a minute, every minute last an hour, and every hour last a day. But he would have to return at sunset and fulfill his duties, and Elizabeth had to make her own way without him. "But when I leave…" he trailed, his eyes descending to the sea and avoiding the glimmering silhouette of her cool unclothed body. "The world keeps turning, Elizabeth."
Even after all she said, and he still doubted that she desired this. That she would wait for him. "Then it is a good thing that you are my world," she countered with an airy breath.
"Elizabeth, you don't have to—"
"No, Will," she said as she squeezed his neck. "Don't say that." Elizabeth leaned forward and kissed his moist cheek, resting her head against his shoulder before returning her gaze to his somber countenance. "Will, I would wait one hundred years if I had to… If it broke your bond to the Flying Dutchman. You know that."
"But we don't know for certain that I will be able to return to a normal life and give up the captaincy," the man said hesitantly, his eyes glazing over with almost tears.
Elizabeth gripped his face, her fingers pulsing against his cheekbones and then his defined jaw-line. She could not doubt it and neither could he. "It will. I know it will."
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"Ten years..." Elizabeth said only hours later in a drawling tone as they nestled in the blankets. What if she was wrong? What she was entirely wrong? He might not come back. He may be bound for that ship, destined to rule the seas forever, with brief spouts on land every ten years. She might be wrong.
"I will return, Elizabeth. No matter what," he assured, clasping both her hands and kissing the fingertips. He believed it because she did. She couldn't doubt it. If she wouldn't allow him to be uncertain, he wouldn't allow her.
"Promise me that we will return to the way we were, before everything. Promise me that everything will be ok in ten years." It was a raspy whisper, that was buried in a few tears as she pressed her wet face against him.
"I promise."
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Elizabeth's eyes fluttered open, and she patted the thick cotton blanket, abruptly realizing that her husband was no longer lying alongside her. "Will?" she asked softly and then heard the rustling of his movements. She weaved her fingers through her hair as she rose and strolled forward, watching Will round up his scattered articles of clothing. The woman smiled as she spotted one of his black leather boots, and she quickly crouched to the ground, behind a rock, and dragged it toward her. She eased it on over her foot but couldn't help a fit of giggles. She hoped Will hadn't heard her. Now, if only she could find the left boot…
With one arm resting on his knee, and his other leg stretched out to almost its full extent, he said light-heartedly, "I'm gonna need the other one." Elizabeth grinned and propped her foot up on a flat rock, displaying the ribbed leather boot in all its glory. Will glanced at the formed shoe, and his eyes trailed up to his wife's delighted expression, who gently brushed her loose locks behind her ears. Silly. She had tried this before and failed, but… Then again… That was quite a lovely romp that time. He edged toward the gorgeous woman and gripped the back of her smooth, shapely calf and slid off the boot, tossing it aside. His filthy fingers crawled toward her thigh as his lips rubbed over her sleek knee.
Elizabeth closed her eyes, hoping that he would continue that splendid trek up her leg, just as he had hours before, and pursue every curve of her body until their lust was slaked once again. She felt his whiskers scratch even farther up, and she closed her eyes and tilted back her head, smiling at the prospect. Then, he stopped. He just… Stopped, and she felt his scruffy face rest again her knee.
"It's nearly sunset."
It was a remark she could have done without. Her eyes flickered open, and she stared at the Dutchman that was now beckoning her husband by obligation. Her eyes fell, as did any hope of final, blissful goodbyes. It was a natural thought, but… After hours and lovely moments, that she forced herself to think that she could thwart the yearning. But no, she still didn't want him to leave. They deserved more time. They didn't deserve such a long lapse of ten years. Will had quickly yanked on his boot, and he now had risen and strode toward the rock, removed his soft, dried jacket, and drummed his fingers against the chest.
"It's always belonged to you," he said over his shoulder, the light breeze flapping open his blouse and wafting against his sealed wound. He could not look her in the eye in case she wavered. Because if she was unsteady, he was unsteady. But then, he thought, he had to gaze at her. He had to savor every movement, memorize every twitch and glimmer. He spun around, holding the small chest, and asked, hoping he knew the answer, "Will you keep it safe?"
"Yes," she replied, nodding her head a little. She walked forward and overlapped his grasp on the container, feeling the pulsing beat between them. She would keep this heart, this beating thing, safe for ten years, and she would also remain faithful to that heart. "Yes," she repeated, assuring her own strength in the devoted task. She closed her eyes as she felt him come near, and his forehead pressed lightly against hers, the chest dropped down to their waists. If only a moment more… Then, she felt him pull away, heard his footsteps in the sand, and the shuffling of his coat. She shook her head. No, she couldn't let him go. Not yet… Not without a final adieu. "Will!" she cried, setting the chest back on the rock and galloping toward him. He spun around to meet her eyes, and she bounded into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him fiercely. Elizabeth rocked on her toes as they swayed with the rhythm of their kiss, the tips of their tongues barely touching and then plundering in the most fantastic of ways.
Their lips finally parted, and their eyes locked onto one another, telling each other all those sentiments over and over again. He slipped out of her grasp, and her hands slid from his shoulder as he murmured, "Keep a weather eye on the horizon." He strode a few feet into the crashing waves and then, within seconds, his form was gone.
Tears streamed down her cheeks, leaving deep marks as a wave lapped over her little feet. Ten years at sea. A lifetime ashore. As she closed her eyes, every waking moment of their time together flashed through her mind, and then when her eyes fluttered open, her gaze still on the darkening rim of the ocean, she whispered, "Come back to me."