Eight Years Later

My eyes flash open. A candle flickers golden at my bedside. Golden.

I pull off my blankets and carry the candle over to my chest of drawers. I open the middle drawer and take out the books and stationery that lie inside, setting them aside. Then I finger my way to the back of the drawer where I apply pressure and the opposite end of the floor of the drawer tips up. I breathe in slowly.

There lies the medallion I found six years ago. It has sat not only in the dark and dustiness of my chest of drawers, but in my mind as well.

As I pick it up and close the drawer, my eyes never leave the jaunty grin of the pirate skull. It appears silver after I wipe off a layer of blue dust and hold it up to the candlelight. When I was younger I loved having a way to rebel, to have a passion for something I should despise. I almost forgot. To have that power again—that passion. I wonder what that feels like.

I look up at the mirror that is hanging above my bureau and clasp the chain around my neck. It hangs just at my chest and I already feel a sense of power radiating from it.

A knock sounds at the door and I turn in fright.

If I am caught with this I will surely meet the same fate as the three pirates hanging above the ocean.

"Elizabeth?" My father's voice sounds.

I immediately reach for my dressing gown that lying at the end of my bed. I trip over a chair in the process and it crashes to the ground.

"Are you alright?" Father asks through the door. I stuff my arms through the dressing gown sleeves. "Are you decent?"

"Yes," I pant in frustration, pushing my hair out of the way to thrust the medallion down the front of my nightgown. "Yes."

Not a second later my father walks in.

"Ugh, still abed at this hour?" He asks with a smile. My two maids, Estrella and Coralyn, follow him through my bedroom doorway. They head straight for the windows and draw back the curtains. My candlelight-adjusted eyes burn a little.

"It's a beautiful day," Father says as the maids open the windows. I see that he is right. Silvery whispers of clouds stray across a gray-blue sky. The land beneath grows green and rich, smoke rising from brick chimneys and the smell of baking pastries in the light breeze. Birds chirp in the palm trees and bells ring. Navy ships float protectively in the bay, white sails upon the masts reaching up towards heaven.

"I have a gift for you," Father says, drawing my attention away from the world outside. Estrella holds out a large, striped box in her arms. Father pulls off the lid.

"Oh it's beautiful!" I exclaim.

"Isn't it?" Father agrees.

Inside lies a golden gown, trimmed with lace at the sleeves and the collar. Beige swirls pattern the bodice, accompanied by white, intricate beading. I pull out the gown and start for my dressing screen, but turn back.

"May I inquire as to the occasion?" I ask suspiciously. It couldn't possibly have something to do with a certain promotion for a certain naval officer . . .

"Does a father need an occasion to dote upon his daughter?" Father asks with a chuckle. I smile and go behind my dressing screen.

"Actually I, uh . ." Father sighs. "I had hoped you might wear it to the ceremony today."

I take off my dressing gown, throw it over the screen, and slip off my nightgown, careful to keep my medallion hidden.

"The ceremony?" I say.

"Captain Norrington's promotion ceremony," Father clarifies. I pause to look out at Father in accusation.

"I knew it!" I say, coming back behind the screen as the maids place a corset around my torso. I look at them in surprise but they do not look up.

I've never worn a corset before.

I hear Father laugh lightly. "Commodore Norrington, as he's about to become."

Coralyn holds the corset in place while Estrella attacks the laces from behind. I breathe in quickly when she tightens them.

"A fine gentleman, don't you think? He fancies you, you know," Father adds. I gasp loudly as Estrella tightens another lace. I feel as if my ribs are being crushed!

"Elizabeth. How's it coming?" Father asks.

"It's difficult to say," I respond, trying to push air into my lungs. I have a strong desire to push the maids away and rip the corset off of me.

"I'm told it's the latest fashion in London," Father goes on.

"Well women in London must have learned not to breathe," I retort, grasping my bosom in want of air. From behind the dressing screen, I hear a servant call my Father to meet a visitor waiting downstairs and Father leaves.

"There," Estrella announces, indicating the corset has reached its completion. I try to breathe a sigh of relief, but the corset stops me. I feel as though I've dropped a thousand feet and have landed on solid ground.

I'm helped into the gown, which somehow seems less beautiful than before. As my hair is put up and a hat is tied beneath my hair, I try to distract myself from my struggle for breath by turning my attention to the large amount of cleavage the gown reveals.

"Milady, you look very lovely," Estrella says, and I stare at myself in the mirror.

I suppose I look lovely. If one disregards my lack of air.

I walk out of my bedroom and down the staircase slowly, for with each breath I feel a twinge of pain in my stomach. If only I could—

"Oh Elizabeth, you look absolutely stunning!" Father's voice calls. I look up and see Father standing beside the visitor, who is dressed in a brown jacket and matching trousers. His face looks startled to see me, just as he was when I first met him eight years ago.

"Will!" I exclaim, hurrying down the rest of the steps and approaching him. "It's so good to see you! I had a dream about you last night."

"About me?" Will asks in surprise.

"Elizabeth, well, is it entirely proper for you to—?" Father interjects. I ignore him, my eyes fixed upon Will's.

"About the day we first met, do you remember?"

"How could I forget, Miss Swann?" He replies, much to both my satisfaction as well as the opposite.

"Will, how many times must I ask you to call me Elizabeth?" I ask him. He hesitates.

"At least once more, Miss Swann, as always."

"There," says Father approvingly, "you see? At least the boy has a sense of propriety."

I drop my eyes.

"Now, we really must be going," Father continues, handing me my parasol. "There you are."

I look back at Will, whose eyes are gazing back in apology. How could my father say that in front of Will?

"Good day Mr. Turner," I try to say as indifferently as possible, only to please my father.

"Come along," Father prompts, and I follow him out the door towards the carriage.

"Good day," Will calls as we step into the carriage. I watch him as we pull away and ride down the road.

"I do hope you demonstrate a little more decorum in front of Commodore Norrington," Father says to me. "After all, it's only through his efforts that Port Royal has become fully civilized." He smiles at me meaningfully. We go over a bump in the road, which both startles and silences him.

He's disappointed again, I think. I don't like it when Father is displeased with me, but I do not see any harm in calling Will by his first name. I've known him for half my life.

I look out the window of the carriage at the dirt road beneath us and my thoughts turn to the upcoming ceremony held at Fort Charles. Captain Norrington has long deserved this honor of promotion. He's a very admirable man.

The carriage comes to a sudden stop.

"Ah, here we are," Father says and steps out. I follow him into the fort, which is slowly being filled with noblemen and women dressed in some of their finest outfits. The naval officers are dressed in blue or red, depending on their rank. They patrol the fort, rifles resting against their shoulders.

I walk to a place beside the other noblemen and women. Father goes to stand beside some of the major officers of the army. I pull out my fan. My ribs are beginning to ache again. I was fine in the carriage, but the simplest of movements, like walking, seem to irritate them.

Just then, the whistles and drums begin sound and the officers dressed in blue form their ranks. Their two lines split as several more lines of officers, dressed in red, march up the middle. At the far end of their formations I spot Captain Norrington—now Commodore Norrington.

The soldiers lower their bayonets and Commodore Norrington walks to the other side of their lines.

My eyes sting as my ribs tighten again. I quicken the pace of my fanning. My stomach is aching with pain and I'm beginning to feel like I am battling for every breath.

I can't do this.

I bite my lip and swallow, but my mouth feels ever more dry. I have to leave. I can't wear this horrid thing anymore. My wrist hurts from constant fanning and I switch hands. I can't pay attention to the ceremony. My mind feels sluggish.

And then all at once the ceremony is over. I stumble into some shade to cool myself off. Violins sound and the officers disperse. I brace myself against a stone pillar and strain against my corset.

Where is Father? I wonder. I must find him and tell him I'm not feeling well. The sooner we leave, the sooner I never have to see this corset again.

"May I have a moment?" Someone says behind me.

I freeze. No. Please, no.

Commodore Norrington stands before me in full naval outfit and a determined expression.

"Yes," I somehow force out. I follow him to the northwest corner of the fort, where we stop at a ledge beside the signal bell. I pull myself up with a little difficulty and fan myself, holding my stomach and staring down at the water beneath the edge of the fort.

My mind is becoming cloudier by the minute.

"Uh, you look lovely, Elizabeth," Commodore says. His voice shakes a little. I half-heartedly smile at him and look away again. Breathe. You can get through this. Breathe.

"I, uh, apologize if I seem forward but I must speak my mind. This promotion throws into sharp relief that which I have not yet achieved. Uh, a marriage to a fine woman," he says, turning to face me. "You have become a fine woman, Elizabeth."

I look at him, panting, and I hardly hear his words.

"I can't breathe," I sputter.

All at once, my body goes limp. I fall into unconsciousness.