1 Year Earlier
"We pillage, we plunder, we rifle and loot," I sing under my breath, gazing across the black sea. "Drink up me hearties yo ho! We kidnap and ravage and don't give a hoot. Drink up me hearties yo ho! Yo ho, yo ho a pirate's life for me. We extort, we pilfer, we filch and sack. Drink up—"
I gasp as a hand suddenly grasps my shoulder. I turn around in fright, but it's only Joshamee Gibbs, a bewhiskered sailor of the HMS Dauntless.
"Quiet Missy! Cursed pirates sail these waters," he says, scanning the horizon. "You don't want to bring them down on us now, do ya?"
"Mr. Gibbs, that will do!" The voice of Lieutenant Norrington calls out behind the superstitious sailor, who releases my shoulder. Gibbs points at me.
"She was singing about pirates! Bad luck to be singing about pirates with us mired in this unnatural fog. Mark my words."
"Consider them marked," Lieutenant Norrington says coldly. "On your way."
"Aye, Lieutenant. It's bad luck to have a woman on board, too… even a miniature one." Gibbs walks away but stops just within listening distance.
I turn to face the lieutenant. Beside him stands my father.
"I think it'd be rather exciting to meet a pirate," I defend myself.
Lieutenant smiles but more out of amusement rather than agreement.
"Think again Miss Swann. Vile and dissolute creatures, the lot of them," he says, walking to stand beside me, facing the ocean. "I intend to see to it that any man who sails under a pirate flag or wears a pirate brand gets what he deserves—a short drop and a sudden stop."
I sense a movement in the corner of my eye and I spot Mr. Gibbs miming a hanging with a rope around his neck. I breath in quickly and look at the lieutenant.
"Lieutenant Norrington," my father steps up, "I appreciate your fervor, but I'm, uh, I'm concerned about the effect this subject will have upon my daughter."
"My apologies, Governor Swann," the naval commander replies. He walks away with his hands behind his back.
I don't understand. I don't see anything frightening about pirates.
"Actually, I find it all fascinating," I tell my father to ease his nerves.
"Yes, that's what concerns me," he replies and walks away. I stare at him, still unable to understand what he's afraid of. I turn my eyes back to the ocean to daydream.
My eyes narrow. I see something floating in the water. A white parasol. It twirls upside down as it rides the folding waves. I follow it a little ways around the ship, wondering where on earth it came from. As far as I know, we're out in the middle of the ocean. We can't be close to any land. I lean over the side to look at the parasol, but it seems to have disappeared. I turn the direction from which it floated and to my astonishment, as well as my horror, I see a boy floating in the water on a raft of wood. He appears to be unconscious, with his limbs sprawled out and his mouth dropped open.
"Look!" I shout to the sailors. "There's a boy! A boy in the water!" I point over the ship. The sailors rush to the side.
"Man overboard! Man the ropes. Fetch a Hook! Haul him aboard," Lieutenant Norrington orders the sailors, who immediately throw ropes over the side and prepare to rescue the boy. I follow them and watch as they pull him onto the ship.
If he's dead . . .
Everyone gathers around him cautiously, but I hear Lieutenant Norrington say, "He's still breathing."
Mr. Gibbs swears. I turn around to see where his gaze lies, but it is not on the boy. My mouth opens slightly. A ship floats before us, torn clean in half and bursting with flames. Cargo and debris float in the boiling ocean. Yellow light flickers from the charred, black wood that was once a ship.
"What happened here?" My father mutters.
"It's most likely the powder magazine. Merchant vessels run heavily armed," the lieutenant responds. I watch, aghast, as the main mast of the ship tumbles into the water below with a loud crackling sound. It's a horrible sight.
"A lot of good it did them," says Gibbs, referring to the cause of the fire. "Everyone's thinkin it, I'm just saying it. Pirates." Could pirates have really been the cause of this?
I can't see any living movement. It seems unlikely there can be any survivors.
Suddenly I look down at the boy, laying on the deck. One survivor.
I walk over to him as Lieutenant Norrington shouts orders to his men to take to the boats. I hear my father's voice in my ear.
"Elizabeth, I want you to accompany the boy. He'll be in your charge. Take care of him."
I nod and follow the sailor carrying the boy, who takes him away from the crowd of sailors and lays him down upon the floor of the deck. As I kneel over him and see his stomach rising and falling, I feel an odd sense of relief for him. I bend over to stroke his hair carefully. At my touch the boy yells out and grabs my wrist. I jump.
"It's okay. My name's Elizabeth Swann," I say softly.
"Will Turner," the boy responds, clearly startled.
"I'm watching over you, Will," I assure him and try to smile.
He nods and falls back into unconsciousness, his mouth open in exhaustion.
Suddenly I spot something wrapped around his neck. Some sort of chain. As I pull it out from beneath his shirt, the chain dangles a golden medallion covered in intricate markings. My eyes widen. At the center of the medallion is a skull.
"You're a p-pirate," I gasp. No. He can't be . . .
"Has he said anything?" Lieutenant Norrington asks from behind me.
I turn around swiftly, hiding the necklace behind my back.
"His name's William Turner. That's all I found out," I lie.
Lieutenant Norrington nods passively and orders his men to take the boy below. As they bend down to pick him up, I quickly slip the chain of the necklace from over the boy's head. I hide it in my hands, watching until the sailors are out of sight, then looking down at the medallion. I almost wish the skull had disappeared. It stares up at me with an evil grin and I hold it up to see it more clearly. Suddenly I see something out on the ocean. Something else moving through the fog, cloaked in darkness, decorated in ragged sails. I raise my eyes to the top of a tall mast where a piece of black cloth flies in the wind . . . a pirate flag.