The merciless sun beat down on Elizabeth as she rowed. The large blazing orb of flames had now reached the center of the cerulean sky, signaling that the hours of daylight were slipping away. It was midday, and soon darkness would come and shroud the entire ocean. She had four to five hours left to reach Port Royal, and she was hopelessly lost.

Elizabeth had always had that intense fear that she would lose her way and never reach the shores of her home. That had been the main barrier that had kept her trapped on her island for as long as she had been there. She knew that once she had set sail, there would be no going back. If she couldn't find Port Royal, then she had no better chance of finding her way back to the island. She knew she wasn't a navigator; the only knowledge and experience she had was a few weeks of watching the stars from the deck of the Black Pearl. On the journey to World's End, Barbossa had showed her how sailors used the night sky to navigate their way across the seas, but she had not truly understood. And even if she had, there were no stars yet and she would surely lose all hope if she was still searching by the time they arrived.

Every now and then, she threw down the oars and furiously wiped the sweat from her forehead. Her whole body was drenched in it and her hair clung to her skin. She was burning and her arms and face raged scarlet with sunburn. She was so thirsty, but there was nothing to drink. Her last canteen had been drained hours ago. It was horrible, being surrounded by water but unable to drink it. The waves mocked her, crashing gently against her little wooden longboat and glittering in the sunlight. It took all of her strength to keep from jumping in and letting the cold ocean envelop her and soothe her rampant mind. She looked away from the temping sight and picked up the oars again. She couldn't waste any time. Once she was home, she could swim to her heart's desire with no worries or cares. But for now, she had to keep going.

The Dead Man's Chest was seated next to her on the little makeshift bench the longboat had. She could hear Will's heart beating gently at its mellow even pace. Today she could hear it without having to press the metal chest to her ear. Perhaps Will knew that she needed extra strength today, and he was here to provide it. He reminded her that she was not alone, even if it seemed that she was. He was always with her, providing guidance, strength, hope, and love. And that in itself made her voyage so much easier to bear. She needed him. And he was there.

Elizabeth gazed out at the horizon, wondering what he was doing at that precise moment. She wondered if he was thinking about her, for she thought about him almost every second of every day. Perhaps he was leaning against the railing of the Flying Dutchman, watching the horizon himself. She closed her eyes and imagined him walking about his ship, giving orders to his crew in his soft kind voice. She smiled, lightly shaking her head. Will was such a sweetheart, such a gentleman. It was so hard for him to be fierce. She knew he wasn't fit for the life of a pirate for he would never truly be one. That worried her a bit, but she knew that he could take care of himself just as she could take care of herself. She remembered having to tell him over and over again that she was perfectly capable on her own. When they had first got engaged he never left her side for an instant, afraid that she may disappear and he would wake up to find that it was all just a dream. He had told her that one day when they were sitting on the beach hand-in-hand, watching the sun set. She smiled now at the memory, opening her eyes and gazing up at the sun.

Elizabeth sat with her legs crossed under her, the billowing skirts of her dress fluttering in the mild breeze. She yawned, allowing the day to finally catch up with her and drain the little strength she had left. As she groggily lifted her hands to rub her eyes, she became aware of the eyes that were now watching her closely, no longer gazing out at the setting sun. She turned her head and smiled sleepily at her fiancé as he brushed a lock of her chestnut hair from her face.

"You're so beautiful," Will breathed softly, gazing at her delicately carved face with pure and unmasked awe.

She smiled again and dropped her head onto his shoulder, yawning again. "Hardly, but thank you."

He gently wrapped his arm around her shoulders, drawing her in closer. She responded by snuggling her head further into his neck and groaning softly.

"What's wrong Elizabeth?" he questioned, his voice instantly becoming tinted with light concern. She smiled; he worried far too much about her.

"Nothing," she murmured sleepily. "I'm just so tired, and I don't ever think I want to move from this spot."

He grinned, rubbing his thumb up and down her strong but willowy arm. "Am I comfortable enough for you, Miss Swann?"

"Very much so," she replied closing her eyes. "And please stop calling me that. In a few months I will not be Miss Swann any longer and you'll have to make the switch."

He smiled again and brought her hand up to his lips and kissed it softly. "It shall not be too difficult my dearest Elizabeth." He kissed her fingers gently, paying attention to each one and sending a shiver down her spine. "Mrs. Turner."

She beamed and gazed up at him, smiling her widest. "I love that." She closed her eyes again and dropped back onto his shoulder. "Elizabeth Turner." She sighed. "It has a lovely ring to it, does it not?"

"It does, if I may be so bold as to say."

"Of course you can, my love," she replied softly. "Nothing is too bold for you to say." She lifted her head slowly so that she could meet his eyes. "You're my best friend Will." She grinned. "And now my fiancé as well."

He smiled and lightly shook his head. "And I still can't believe it." He took a deep breath and sighed, returning his gaze back to the sea. "Ever since I first laid eyes on you that fateful day eight years ago, I knew that I was in love. Hopelessly and completely in love. And as the years went by, my love for you only grew. You never saw me as the blacksmith's poor and working apprentice. You only saw me as Will; you knew me better than anyone else. And you allowed me to see you as a free and passionate young girl, not the black and white noble that the rest of the world saw you as." He shook his head again. "I am so unworthy. Elizabeth, how did I ever deserve you?"

"Because fate wanted us to be together," she murmured softly. "And because I was in love with you the whole time as well." She lifted her head up and kissed him softly on the lips. When the broke apart, Will looked down at her with a slight glimmer of sadness in his eyes. She didn't miss it, and she frowned slightly. "Will, is everything alright."

He nodded. "Every time I see you, I always fear that this is all just a dream and I will wake up to find you still nothing more than a friend that I admire from a distance." He sighed. "All those years. All those years we were in love but never said a word. All that time."

She looked up at him gently, her eyes now reflecting that same despondent glimmer. "I know." She took his hand in hers and rubbed it with her thumb as a few tears ran down her cheek. "I know. But we cannot mourn that time that was lost. We still were friends, and all that matters is that it worked out in the end." She smiled. "We're together now."

He smiled back with the same raw adoration. "We are." He grasped her hand tighter and pulled her to him again. She rested her head against his chest, letting herself drift away to another world. She snuggled up closer to him and was filled with a loving desire as she listened to the steady beat of his heart.

"I can hear your heart beating," she whispered, pressing her head closer to his chest. "It's so calm and even."

"Content," he gently replied. "Content. Sitting here with you on the soft sand of the beach where we grew up, watching the sun set on the horizon. Content."

She smiled. "Content. I'm content being here with you and not worrying about the rest of the world. When I'm alone with you, nothing else matters. Time seems to freeze and nothing could ever pull me away from you." She sighed. "There is so much that cannot be said in words. There is so much I want to tell you, but I do not know how."

"You can tell me anything Elizabeth," he murmured into her hair.

"I know," she said, "but there is just no way to say it. No way to word it. It is most frustrating."

"Don't worry about it love," he purred. "It's nothing to fret about. I know exactly what you mean, but I know that everything important will always find a way to be said when the time is right."

She smiled up at him. "The opportune moment?"

He grinned. "The opportune moment."

Elizabeth sighed now and ran her finger along the top of the Dead Man's Chest. The metal was hot from the intense sun, but for the moment, she didn't care if her fingers burned. She was still lost in the beauty of her precious memory with her beloved. As she had so often thought, oh how things were so very different not so long ago. That very evening on the beach with Will had only occurred eight months ago, not but a week after their engagement. They had been so happy then, content with their peaceful lives in Port Royal. Of course the biggest difference between then and now was the fact that Will had still had his heart back then.

There were many differences though; many, many things had changed. They had finally gotten married after their beautifully planned wedding had been destroyed two months ago. For certain their actual wedding was definitely not what she had had in mind, but it had still been romantic in a different way. It had certainly been passionate, rain pouring around them; swords glinting as they slashed into the enemy, hands clutched tightly providing slight warmth but immense comfort. And their kiss. That had undoubtedly been the most passionate and intense kiss they'd ever shared. And it had been pure ecstatic bliss.

Elizabeth pulled her hand away from the chest and grabbed up the oars furiously, tears streaming down her face. It wasn't fair. Will deserved to be here with her, his arm wrapped around her waist, his face buried in her golden hair. He had done nothing to deserve the insufferable responsibility that had been pressed onto his shoulders. A touch of destiny…

She scowled. "A touch of destiny indeed."

She hated Calypso. Hated her. Elizabeth had never truly hated anyone before, but now she finally did. That goddess…that damn goddess; she had ruined everything. Destroyed it. Snatched it away. It wasn't fair.

She groaned in frustration and muttered, "Why me? Why Will? What did we ever do?"

She groaned again and began to violently pull the oars through the water with a fierce intensity. The ocean's mild waves crashed against the side of the longboat, making her even more furious for some unknown reason. In truth, Elizabeth didn't seem to have as much power over her emotions as normal. She was constantly snapping back and forth between two or three different moods. One minute she'd be contently eating some of the fruit that her island provided, and the next she'd be attacking a random tree, kicking it, punching it, and yelling at the top of her lungs. And then about ten seconds later, she'd be huddled in a ball on the sand, sobbing uncontrollably. Quite honestly, it had scared her to death when she had discovered his new fact about herself. She had decided to blame it on her bloody hormones that were no doubt raging, as she was at that age…twenty-one.

She sighed and wiped away the remainder of her tears with the back of her hand before resuming her rowing. She still had absolutely no idea where she was going and was certain that she was probably just going in a big circle, but she was following her instincts and kept going in the direction that they led her. She prayed that was enough to bring her home…but she rather doubted it. While it was not impossible that she would survive to find Port Royal in her direct line of vision, it was rather improbable. But she wouldn't give up. Not yet. In a few hours…maybe, but with the sun still providing light, she would keep trying.

(A/N:) It's sick season...and I always get hit. I think I get sick about 15-20 times a year on average. :( It really sucks. But that means that I get to stay home from school!!! And with all that extra time I get a lot of writing done. So here's chapter two. Please let me know what you think. I always look forward to reviews. :)

-Elizabeth