A/N: I know I already updated this chapter, but then I went back and looked at it and made a few changes. So here it is, again, and yes, it's longer. I'm sorry.

And again, sorry about the constant talking about Josh and all that-I feel it's needed.

Please leave me reviews of the chapter, I love them dearly and help me get better.

Love, BRTxoxo

After another half hour of contemplation, soon it was just the Commodore, my father, a maid, and me on the platform. I continued to watch the Commodore with my eyes, the blanket tucked under my nose.

"Eleanor." My father touched my shoulder gently as the naval commander walked away. "Come, we must prepare to go."

"Go?"

"The Commodore is preparing a ship to take us to search for your sister. Come."

I nodded and followed him out of the fort to the carriage. The ride was bumpy along the dirt and cobblestone streets. The townspeople were out and about cleaning up from last night's raid and plundering. I kept the blanket wrapped tightly around me until we returned to the mansion.

It would take a long time to fix the place but apparently we wouldn't be here while construction was underway.

The maid followed me upstairs and into the room I had been in the night before. I unwrapped the blanket from my shoulders and let the maid replace it with a dress and a small coat thing. They sat me down and as one started to heat up some irons for curling my hair, the other set about packing dresses and corsets into a chest.

"Is this all really necessary? Considering we're going to be at sea for who knows how long, and-and the dresses! Do we even know they're going to fit me?"

"Miss please sit still. You're the young misses twin sister. You're very alike in shape in size. Although we may have to find you some new corsets, the ones we have for your sister may be a bit small on you."

I glanced down at my body and realized that I would need something a little bigger for my chest. "Then pack some for Elizabeth when we get her and get me something a little more comfortable. I don't know how I'm going to fair at sea on a ship for a month and I need to breathe." I stood up to face the two maids. When they stared at me and didn't move, I shooed them away. "Go! And don't bother about my hair, it won't do much good anyway." The maids scuttled away and started to gather more items to put into the chest.

My father came up the stairs and stood almost awkwardly in the broken doorway. "Unfortunately… our excursion has been delayed a short while."

"What do you mean?"

He cleared his throat. "Mister Turner has apparently enlisted the help of one Jack Sparrow and seems to be conducting his own rescue. They've taken the Interceptor and left us with a disabled Dauntless. It will take a short while to fix the problem. In the meantime, Eleanor dearest please get ready. Look at your hair!"

"Father please my hair is fine. And not to be… forward but Lizzy's clothes won't fit me. I'm a little… bigger than she is. I'll make do with maid's clothes, honestly."

"Nonsense. Maria, go into town quickly, and buy a few dresses and corsets for Eleanor. Take this. Hurry."

The maid took the coin purse offered by my father and rushed out, one of the man servants following behind her quickly.

"Father please-!"

"Eleanor, you will be on a ship filled with young ensigns and men. Wearing a maids dress is not fitting for a young lady of your status, let alone they will be at sea for at least a month. You need proper clothing. Now hurry, the delay is not long." He pulled me forward and kissed my forehead before turning out of the room and having a manservant pack clothes for him.

I resigned and let the maid do my hair, though why it had to be done I had no idea. It bothered me. The way it was piled and pinned to my head was uncomfortable.

An hour later, after the maid returned with some dresses that fit surprisingly well, we walked aboard the Dauntless and were on our way to sea. The maid that came with us-Mary-was shown to the quarters we would share and dismissed by my father to do as she wished. I stood behind my father who stood next to the commodore by the wheel. The ship heaved and lurched as it got further out to sea. I lost my footing when I tried to hold down my stomach and tripped into the man controlling the wheel.

The commodore gently set me back on my feet and then linked my arm with his so as to keep me steady. It was much easier this way. The sun glared down on us, and I was immensely grateful for the hat the shielded my face and the fan that I was required to have. I suppose being a lady of higher status had its perks. The commodore gave the helmsman orders on where to go and then led my father down to the main floor of the ship and then up to the bow. The two men made small talk while I fanned myself to try and keep cool from the Caribbean sun.

The day dragged by slowly, and at noon we ate a cold lunch with the senior officers and captain in the captain's quarters. I was shown to the room I would be staying in-being one of the only female on board had its advantages. Then I was left alone to do as I pleased. I spent hours trying to read some of the books that had been packed for me, but it was difficult to read through the old English. So I spent some time embroidering, and then drawing, and then I stared out the small porthole window until my father told me that it was time for dinner.

After we had finished eating, I was allowed to roam the deck for a bit. The sun was setting and as I watched it, the air began to cool down. The stars started to wink into existence. They were brighter than they were back at home.

I found myself strangely at ease with my new lot in life, although I did wish I had a toothbrush and some good indoor plumbing. I nearly scoffed at the thought.

"May I join you?"

"If you like." I nodded at the Commodore as he came up beside me, and if my heart skipped a beat, I ignored it. I had to remind myself that it was really Elizabeth that he had wanted to propose to-not me.

"How do you like the sea?"

"It takes some getting used to. I'm just glad I found my footing and I can walk steadily. Sort of."

He cracked a grin, but only for a second. "Miss Swann, I know it is a difficult subject to talk about but would you permit me to continue our conversation from this morning?"

"You mean about my face."

"Yes, about your injuries inflicted by your… ex fiancé."

My eyes shot up to look at him.

"Please forgive my presumption, but I find it rather satisfying to think that your engagement to him has been severed considering your last encounter."

I mulled over his words, wondering at the fact that he felt satisfied thinking that I didn't have a previous commitment to someone. I wondered if he was satisfied because he was interested in me, or if he was just very chivalrous. Thinking he was into me was just the girl in me dreaming about having a Disney prince fall in love with me at first sight and sweep me off my feet. "To be quite honest I don't know if I should swoon or thank you."

"Thank me?"

"For, you know, kind of just breaking off the engagement for me. I don't know if I'd have been strong enough to do it myself. I mean, I knew he had anger problems, but in our relationship he never did get very angry. And when he did or when he would upset me, he would give me these incredible puppy dog eyes and apologize, get me flowers, get me a stuffed toy, and I would fall for it and forgive him."

"Puppy dog eyes?"

"Just really sad, mournful, guilty, apologetic, tearful eyes that look like they belong on a kicked dog." I turned around and leaned against the rail of the ship, picking at my nails. "I shouldn't have let it go as far as I did. I knew that he had anger problems, I knew that he probably wasn't the one for me. For the longest time I felt like there was more out there for me. But I settled with him because I was comfortable and I didn't know if anything else would work out. I guess I was scared about being alone and no one wanting me. It's not like I could do anything with my degree anyway, I'd be horrible in a court room." I paused and looked up at him and he was watching the stars.

"Why did you choose then to pursue that path if you would not do anything with it?"

"That's what my parents wanted to know too. But, since it's what I wanted, and my parents and Josh had money, they let me. It was fun for me. When he proposed, I had a feeling that he would. So he did, I said yes and that was that. I went out with a few friends to see a movie-" I stopped speaking immediately. Staring out at the water, watching as the gently waves lapped against the side of the Dauntless, I suddenly remembered a pivotal point in the film.

The man next to me died.

And it had made me sad.

"Miss Swann? Are you well?"

"Yes," I spoke past the lump in my throat. "Yes I'm fine. Um. We went to see a movie-like watching a replay of something that's happened. Like a play in your own home that you could watch over and over again and it would all be exactly the same. But at the end one of the men that went with my friends and I kissed me. It didn't mean anything, it was over before I knew it began, but it enraged Josh. Like I said, he had a bad temper, but I never thought it would get this bad." I winced at the pain in my chest.

My fiancé had beaten me. He'd most likely nearly killed me. I'd loved him. I'd loved him so much. But his words had hurt, it had seemed as though he only cared about having someone on his arm rather than in his heart. It seemed more than likely that he wanted to possess someone rather than to love them. Thinking about it, now that I wasn't around him and it safe to assume that I wouldn't see him anytime soon, I realized that I hadn't told the Commodore the entire truth; let alone myself. My throat tightened painfully, and it was hard to swallow.

"Miss Swann? Are you well?"

I tried to take a deep breath, but it was shallow and shaky. I opened my mouth to speak but immediately shut it again. I couldn't speak, not without crying.

The Commodore gently placed a hand on my arm, and upon my looking at him, offered me a handkerchief. An elegant J.N. was embroidered in one corner and a scalloped edge was painstakingly sewn around the edges. In the three corners opposite and adjacent to his initials were vines and ivy leaves. When I hesitated to take it, he took notice. "I've been around my mother enough to know what that sigh entails. Please, you don't have one of your own."

I took the small cloth from him tightly in my hand.

He leaned forward on the rail, resting on his forearms.

With the handkerchief wrapped around my fingers, I raised my hand to my mouth. It smelled like vanilla and cinnamon, warm and comforting. It reminded me of my mother-my real biological mother, before she died of fever. We had both been sick, I survived. My father had begged Calypso to heal me after my mother had died. I had been 7. If my father hadn't called on Calypso, if I had died with my mother, if we had never fallen to the fever, none of this would have happened. What if I had survived and lived my life with my father and sister? Would I still be here? Would James have asked me instead of Elizabeth?

I knew one thing for certain. If none of that had ever happened, the fever or Calypso, I would have never met Josh and my face wouldn't look like someone smacked me with a cast iron pan.

That's what made me break. I broke down-first it was just a few gasped out tears, but then it was a full on sob.

It startled the Commodore. I couldn't help it. The man I loved-or thought I had loved, nearly killed me and now it hit me full force. It had been on my mind since I got here, but it wasn't until I acknowledged it that I realized just what had happened. I should be dead right now. Maybe I was. Was this heaven? Maybe Commodore James Norrington was an angel. But no, it couldn't be heaven-how could it be?

The Commodore placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, like he was trying to reassure me or comfort me. I turned into him. His arms slowly wrapped around me. The warmth made me feel a little better, but the pain still hurt.

"I lied." When I finally managed to he enough air in my lungs to speak, my voice came out in a coarse whisper. "I lied."

"I beg your pardon?" His voice was soft, questioning.

I pushed away from him, using the handkerchief to dry the tears on my face. "I lied. I didn't really love him. I was just afraid that no one else would love me or understand me. So I stayed with Josh until he proposed. But I guess the feeling was mutual. He never really loved me either. He would say it, but I never felt it. It was like he was trying to buy my attention and manipulating me to make me feel like he was the only one for me." I turned away from him. My nose was stuffed and my face felt like it was on fire. "I got myself into this mess. It's my own fault. And these are the consequences."

"You're wrong you know."

I turned back to the Commodore. "What?"

"It is hardly ever the ladies fault."

"You're very progressive for a man in a position of power in a patriarchal society."

He smiled at me. "My mother was a wonderful, intelligent woman. My father died when I was young, and my mother and I lived with my uncle. He understood my mother's intelligence, and he never questioned her. She raised me to respect women. 'Never raise your hand against a lady with the intention of causing her pain, James,' she told me. 'Whatever it is that has you in such a fit of anger that you feel the need to strike out, it is not the lady, and it is not her fault.' She told me stories of how her father would beat her mother for the smallest of offences. She would order the wrong meat for dinner, she would smile too kindly at a man visiting the house, she would say something harmless that he would think said too much about him or the way he ran the house. My mother vowed that should a man ever raise a hand against her in anger, she would not stand for it. She would never let her son as the same way. What that man did to you, was not your fault. He manipulated you into thinking that he was the only one that should ever love you or ever would. He was obviously not raised to keep his temper in check, nor to respect women. He was not a good man."

"Yes he was. He gave money to charities, he spent time with his family, took care of his grandparents, he volunteered his time-"

"Miss Swann, do not defend him," he snapped, his voice harsh.

"He was a good man," I argued.

"He was a manipulator and an abuser!"

"He was caring and he loved-"

"Eleanor you cannot say that he loved you. Did you not just tell me that he did not love you? That he was trying to buy your affection through gifts and manipulation? That he would not check his temper?"

"It's natural to say things you don't mean when you're upset or angry, I didn't mean that! He loved me!"

"No, no he didn't." The Commodore's voice was soft and his volume had decreased significantly. "Miss Swann-first of all, please forgive my use of your Christian name without your consent. Secondly, you must understand that anger is much like port or rum or brandy. It clouds your thoughts and removes your ability to discern what should or should not be said or done. Because of that, you would not say or do something under the influence of anger or alcohol that you have not thought of before."

"I don't understand."

"If you had not previously thought that he was manipulative or was trying to buy your affections, you would not have said so moments ago." His eyes carried a great amount of concern. "Just as a man who has not previously thought of taking a mistress would not take one if he were drunk."

I went numb. Josh hadn't stopped hitting me after the first hit. He was so angry he had hit me out of rage and hadn't apologized. He had hit me until I fell on the floor bleeding. He had blamed me, and taken his anger out on me. He knew he shouldn't have hit me-his mother often told me stories of how she would constantly tell him not to hit his sister when he was angry. 'She's a girl,' she'd say, 'it's not okay to hit girls, just as it's not okay to hit your brother or for your sister to hit you.'

I don't know how many times she'd told me that story, or how many times she would tell me stories about how often he'd lose his temper as a child and then as a teenager and young adult.

"So… when he hit me… and continued to hit me…" I took a deep shuddering breath. "He didn't stop until I was in danger of dying…"

No. I wouldn't believe that. I couldn't.

He'd never thought about hitting me before.

Had he?

"Miss Swann?"

I shook my head and handed the handkerchief back to him. "This is yours, thank you for offering it to me."

He gave me another small smile. "Keep it. My mother made me three, and I would not wish to deprive you of a good handkerchief."

"Thank you. I'm sorry, excuse me, I should go."

He seemed to frown as I turned to leave. "You are retiring to bed? Have I offended you in some way?"

"No, no not at all. It's just…" I turned back to him and fidgeted with my fingers. "We're on our way to rescue my sister-your hopefully intended. The last thing you need to be doing is comforting your hopefully intendeds sister."

"Isn't that exactly what I should be doing?"

I scrunched my face up in confusion and asked what he meant.

"As you said, we are on our way to rescue my hopefully intended-your sister. You are obviously distressed about her capture, and other circumstances, so why should I-as I am, as you implied, hoping to be engaged to your sister," there was a slight hesitation in his voice, or maybe I was hoping there was, "not be comforting you to gain your approval and good favor? I may be wedding your sister."

I thought for a moment. "I suppose. Regardless, I should go to bed. Goodnight." I gave a small curtsey and turned once again to leave…

"Miss Swann!"

… And I turned back to the Commodore again.

"I would be delighted if you would honor me with a continuation of our conversation tomorrow. Would you meet me here tomorrow evening as we did tonight?"

Was he serious? He looked serious. I nodded and he smiled.

"Thank you. Shall I take you to your quarters?"

I took his offered arm and he led me down the stairs to the cabin I would be staying in. Mary was there-it looked like she had been fretting. She thanked the Commodore, as I did before the door closed. After Mary helped me out of my dress and corset and into my night gown, she checked my bandages before retiring to her side of the room and lying on her cot.

I lay on my bed in silence before the tears came again. I cried silently-there was nothing else I could do. So I cried myself to sleep and woke as the weak tendrils of sunlight were streaking across the sky over the sea. I hadn't slept well. Half way through the night I got up to puke into the chamber pot in the corner of the room. After I stumbled back to bed, I laid shivering for what felt like hours. My head throbbed and my throat burned from the bile I had recently heaved out.

Mary hadn't flinched.

I cried some more. My head hurt even worse after that and I thought I was going to die of dehydration. I missed the water bottle that sat on the night stand next o my bed. I missed my dog, Darcy, that my parents back in the future had to keep with them because my apartment didn't allow pets. I missed my friends, my cousins, my newly returned sister. I missed Josh-as sick as it made me feel. We'd had our problems yes, but we'd had good times too. Part of me did still love him. Even though I resented what he'd turned out to be.

I missed my mom-my real mom. Finally, exhausted from crying, I fell back into a restless sleep where I dreamed about Josh hitting me and sneering at me.

As the cabin began to grow lighter with the rise of the sun, I lifted myself out of the cot, wrapped a blanket around my shoulders, and left. There was hardly anyone about on the deck at this time in the morning. I shivered at the cool ocean breeze that tugged at my unkempt hair.

It was easier to walk in bare feet on the shifting deck. I watched in awe as the sun rose higher and the sky turned various shades of black, purple, red, rust, and then a thin pale blue on the horizon. The Commodore came out of his cabin not long after I'd left mine-fully clothed and prepared for the day. I watched as he watched the sunrise. He hadn't noticed me sitting in the corner at the base of the stairs that lead to the steering wheel. From here, I could see half of his face.

For a while he looked peaceful, but soon his shoulders dropped and his face took on a look that made him seem older than he really was. Leaning onto the railing, he dropped his head, but he was obviously restless. He straightened again and dragged his hands down his face and stared up to the ever lightening sky. His face remained staring skywards for quite some time before he seemed to smile. With a sigh and a final glance to the rising sun, he turned away from me and headed towards the front of the ship.

I realized how rude it was to have stared at him during his obvious internal struggle but I couldn't help but feel calmer. Whatever he had been thinking about to make him smile had warmed my heart. If he ever smiled like that and looked at me, I would probably die and melt into a puddle of mushy goo.

Heaven help the lucky girl that managed to claim Commodore James Norrington's affections because goodness knows he would probably be the best husband-and probably the best lover-in the world.

Oh. Right. My warmed heart chilled again with self pity and I returned to my cabin, curled back onto my cot, and shut my eyes against the tears that threatened to fall again.

My sister was bound to be the luckiest girl in the world-even if she didn't get the guy she was crushing on. She would probably bemoan the fact that she had to go along with societal norms and expectations and not even appreciate the blessing she'd been so reluctant to accept.

I hated her for that.