Drunken laughter and music filled the air. Elizabeth Swann was grateful to have finally made it to Tortuga, after a month of sailing with the band of idiot privateers, who she had only just fooled into making port at the pirate town. As much as she enjoyed the sea, there was nothing quite like the feeling of the solid ground underfoot. And just as she had suspected and hoped for, the Black Pearl was waiting at the docks. From where she stood below, she couldn't see who was aboard; she assumed no one, other than a few crew members guarding the ship.
Elizabeth let a long breath out as she leaned against a damp wooden crate on the dock. She knew that in a matter of minutes she would be faced with Will, who she had nothing to say to. How could she? What she needed to say to him, was that she was terribly sorry, but that she wasn't ready for marriage. Not to him, anyway. Not to mention that she had wronged him by laying with another, one who had jailed her and sent him away on a task to be rewarded with a trip to the gallows. Elizabeth had plenty of time to think at sea and had chosen not to tell Will anything that would hurt him more than necessary. Her admission to him that she didn't want marriage would be hurtful enough. What was worse was that she knew he would forgive her; Will would apologize a thousand times for her lies. That was a fact that she had tortured herself with for the last month. Will would blame himself, while it was she who was to blame for everything wrong in their relationship. A nervous pit in her stomach worried her that when faced with his boyish smile, she wouldn't be able to hurt him. She feared that she may lead him on. That's not what she wanted; she wanted him to be free of her, free to marry someone else who would be happy with him and want his children. Free of a miserable life with a woman who couldn't love him in the way he deserved. Free from a foolish woman who fell in love with anyone and everyone but him.
Elizabeth knew the latter was the truth. How many men had she loved that weren't Will? There was James Norrington, her first love who hadn't had the time for her until she had safely fallen out of love with him. She had loved him through four other men that she thought she also loved, John the banker, Arthur the librarian, Henry the married shop owner, and Lieutenant Gillette, who's first name she shamefully didn't know. Those four she had loved all within three weeks and all while she loved James. Then there was Jack, who she had swooned over on many occasions, which she cringed to think about as she wondered of all the places he had been. And most recently, Lord Beckett, who Elizabeth felt much more in love with than any other man she had been. It was foolish of her. After a month to reflect, she knew well that she had been played and that it had meant nothing to him. But it meant a lot to her. He was the first man that she had laid with and she wanted nothing more than to get back to him. The feelings had to be rid of and she hoped that the time spent away from him would soon cure her. Though she had decided that that wasn't likely.
The familiar lump came to her throat as she choked up, her body willing her to cry. Her vision went blurry with the tears welling up in her eyes, but she quickly wiped them away with the sleeve of her dirty lawnshirt. She had to get over it.
Elizabeth pushed herself away from the crate and climbed the plank that lead to the deck of the Black Pearl. She peaked over the edge, but saw only a few crew members sitting on the deck. Jack didn't seem to be there, and in Tortuga she suspected that he was in the nearest pub. And so she set off through the town with too much on her mind. She peeked inside every doorway she passed and into every window. Down streets and up alleyways, she couldn't find a clue as to where he was. She kept walking, too afraid to stop and ask anyone.
Finally, a large pub came into view. Groups of drunken men and women of ill repute were stumbling and fighting outside of its stone walls. It looked like just the place Jack would spend free time in. Elizabeth approached, dodging stumbling men and stepping carefully over what looked like vomit on the dirt ground. A giggling woman grabbed the sleeve of the old frockcoat she had stolen; Elizabeth cringed away from the strumpet and darted towards the arched door of the pub. Music was blaring from a band playing away in the corner and men were throwing bottles and punches.
In the centre of it all was a dirty man in once fine blue and gold naval livery. He fought skillfully against several opponents with his sword, but began stumbling as he tried to keep a grip on his bottle of rum. Elizabeth recognized this man immediately and sprung into action to assist before he was hurt; it was a drunken James Norrington, a sight she thought she would never see. Her swordsmanship was poorly, only having practiced with the sword that she had hidden under her bed while she was alone in her chambers at night, but it was enough that she was steady in her movements and kept their enemies at bay. James ceased fighting for a moment to take a large gulp of his booze while a man lunged at him with a sword. Elizabeth stopped the attack and threw her fist at the mans face, causing him to fall to the ground, which she was proud for. The enemies kept coming and sooner than later, Elizabeth and James were backed against a wooden support beam, their two swords against many.
'Come on then!' James bellowed loudly. 'Who wants some? Form an orderly line, I'll have you all one by one! Come on who's first?'
Elizabeth rolled her eyes at his provocations. She grabbed the bottle of rum from his hand and smashed it over his head, sending him toppling to the ground. A rather rash decision, but she had to shut him up. They couldn't take on twenty more in his state.
'I just wanted the pleasure of doing that myself,' she said as she leaned against the beam once more. The drunkards cheered and promptly picked James up, dragged him across the pub, and threw him outside, into a pig sty.
Once they cleared the way, Elizabeth approached. She felt sorry, not so much for hitting him over the head, which was certainly better than him being impaled by a sword, but for where he ended up. It had been eight months since she last saw him; it had been brief, as he left to catch Jack Sparrow. She couldn't bring herself to speak to him at the docks that day, letting her father do the speaking instead. The hurricane had brought his fleet down. Elizabeth couldn't help feeling that he wouldn't have ended up in Tortuga as a mangy drunk if he had had her waiting for him, as she should have been. As she had made him believe before turning to Will, who she turned from now. All the hurt was for nothing and he had become what she feared the most. Many times she thought about how differently everything would have turned out if they had only loved each other at the same time, but they hadn't, they had just missed it by a little.
Elizabeth stepped through the mud and helped James up. 'James Norrington,' she whispered, 'what has the world done to you?'
James crawled up to his feet with a groan, using Elizabeth as a support. 'Elizabeth,' a ghost of a smile crept across his features before his brow worried. 'What are you doing here? Why are you dressed so?'
'Let's get you out of here,' she put his arm around her shoulders. 'We'll talk about it when we're not so close to people who want to see you dead.'
The two made their way, slowly, across the town and towards the docks. They went through dark alleyways and crowded streets. Elizabeth's brown eyes scanned the area for any member of Jacks crew, but spotted no one. At the docks the Black Pearl waited, but was still mostly barren of life. She wondered when Jack would return and if Will was with him, what she would say, especially if caught attending to her first fiancé.
'Oh don't worry sweet William, this is not what you think, I am not in love with James,' her mind played out sarcastically. 'You see as it were, while you were off saving me I took a fancy to the man who interrupted our wedding and jailed the two of us. Now if you don't mind, I have to take the compass for myself and we shall we returning to Port Royal where you will be sent away and I will vie for the attentions of him. Thank you for your efforts!'
Elizabeth sat James down onto a wooden crate nearby and dunked a bucket into the water below. She dampened the sleeve of her lawn shirt and used it to wipe the mud from his face, trying not to think about how horrible she had been to him. It was all very uncomfortable, but she felt she owed him her kindness.
'What started the fight?' She asked, trying to ease the tension.
'It was me,' James admitted shamefully. 'I saw Jack and intended on shooting him. One of his crew grabbed my hand and I shot into the air. It all kicked off after that.'
'I'm here to speak to Jack,' she told him. 'Well, I need something in his possession for my fathers freedom.'
'Freedom? Elizabeth what's happened?'
'Where do I start. . .' she muttered with a breathy laugh. 'Well that day, you know, when-' she struggled to get the words out. 'The day that I ruined your life,' her mind said. 'When Jack escaped. Well the news made it back home, to England. It was supposed to be Will and I's wedding day, but a Lord Cutler Beckett of the East India Trading Company came with warrants for our arrest and deaths. He had one for you too, James.' James didn't say anything, but nodded for her to continue. 'Will made a deal with Lord Beckett; fetch Jack's compass for his and I's freedom. Lord Beckett lied, as my father found out; we would get the death sentence even if Will did return successful. You know my father,' Elizabeth shook her head. 'He broke me out of prison and arranged passage to England. I didn't want to go, I'd be a criminal just the same there and my father would be jailed for my escape. So I made a deal with Lord Beckett myself; I have my pardon, now all I need is Jack's compass for my father.'
'What of Mister Turners freedom?'
'Of course, his too,' Elizabeth wrung out her sleeve into the bucket and sat it down on the wooden docks. She wished the conversation hadn't turned towards her fiancé. 'Well, he'll be given a letter of marque if I return, and so he'll be sent away to work as a privateer. I expect I won't see him often after that.'
'I am sorry, Elizabeth,' James said. 'I know you love him-'
'Don't be,' Elizabeth said too quickly. James looked at her questioningly. 'Everything went a bit sour with Will and I,' she went on. 'I know you're the last person who cares, but-'
Elizabeth was about to go on a rant about it, but was interrupted by a familiar voice passing behind her.
'Captain, we could make a heading towards. . .' the voice was that of Mister Gibbs.
The pair looked at each other. Elizabeth pulled James to his feet and followed after the two figures which she recognized as indeed Mister Gibbs and Captain Jack Sparrow. Her heart pounded; so soon her father could be freed and Will no longer slaving for her love. All of the misery and mess could be put to bed within weeks.
'Captain Sparrow,' Elizabeth called out over the creaking of the large boats and busy crew members around them.
'Come to join me crew lad?' Jack hardly glanced back. 'Welcome aboard.'
'I'm here to find my fiancé,' her last word left a sour taste in her mouth. It had been some time since she had used the word out loud to describe Will, and she felt guilty for it.
'I'm deeply flattered my son, but my first and only love is the sea,' Jack said, facing Mister Gibbs.
James threw himself to the side of the docks and vomited.
'Meaning William Turner, Captain Sparrow,' Elizabeth corrected.
Jack turned on his heel to face her, wide eyed and looking concerned. 'Elizabeth,' Jack muttered before turning back to Mister Gibbs. 'Hide the rum,' he turned to face her once more. 'You know these clothes do not flatter you at all. It should be a dress or nothing and I happen to have no dress in my cabin.' It seemed like a desperate attempt to change the subject.
'Jack,' Elizabeth said, putting an end to his ramblings. 'I know Will came to find you, where is he?'
A sigh escaped Jacks lips. 'Darling I am truly unhappy to have to tell you this, but. . . through an unfortunate and entirely unforeseeable series of circumstances that have nothing whatsoever to do with me,' he took a deep breath.' Poor Will, has been pressganged into Davy Jones' crew.'
Elizabeth felt relieved; she would not have to break Will's heart that day. But she wasn't sure she heard Jack correctly. 'Davy Jones?' she had heard of the legends, but she must not have heard correctly.
Jack nodded, looking fearful of Elizabeth.
James once more violently vomited. 'Oh please,' he interrupted, breathing heavily. 'The captain of the Flying Dutchman?'
'You look bloody awful,' Jack remarked to the mud drenched man. 'What are you doing here?'
'You hired me, I can't help that your standards are lax.'
'You smell funny-'
'Jack-' Elizabeth got his attention once more. Will being sent to Davy Jones, if that was true, meant setbacks for her. She was going to break his heart, but she certainly wasn't going to let him die. It would have been easier if she could have met him at Tortuga and brought him back to Port Royal to some how sunder their ties, while simultaneously being his hero, but that clearly wasn't an option. She had to save him from Davy Jones now, she supposed, whatever that would entail. Save Will and steal the compass. At least she was in the right place. 'All I want is to find Will.'
'I know,' Jack whispered as he looked down. But suddenly, something changed on his sorrowful face. 'Are you certain? Is that what you really want most?'
Elizabeth's brow furrowed in suspicion of Jack. 'Of course.'
'Because I would think,' Jack put his hand onto her shoulder, 'you would want to find a way to save Will most.'
'And you'd have a way of doing that?' She wasn't the least bit interested in one of his schemes and her unenthusiastic voice said so.
'Well,' he continued. 'There is a chest-'
'-oh dear,' James groaned, earning him a scowl from Jack.
'A chest of unknown size and origin-'
'-what contains the still beatin' heart of Davy Jones,' Pintel added in as he passed by with Ragetti.
Ragetti made the sound of a heartbeat with his throat and demonstrated with his free hand.
Elizabeth was growing more bewildered by the second. She remembered that Lord Beckett had also said something about a chest. 'Wh-'
Jack went on explaining. 'And whoever possesses that chest, possesses the leverage to command Jones to do whatever he or she wants. Including saving brave William from his grim fate.'
'You don't actually believe him, do you?' James questioned Elizabeth.
It wasn't a matter of believing Jack, but rather a lack of choice but to do so. Saving Will wasn't optional and she herself had no idea how to do so. Whatever Jack was up to, she had to go along with it for the time being. He had proven once before that his scheming was usually for the good of the many, it just so happened to include the good for himself. Even if it did seem suspicious to begin with.
'How do we find it?'
'With this,' Jack held up his compass. Elizabeth's eyes lit up. 'My compass. It is unique.'
'Unique here having the meaning of broken,' James sneered.
'True enough,' Jack went on, sending James rolling his eyes and heading back for the side of the docks. 'This compass does not point north.'
'Where does it point?' Elizabeth asked.
'It points to the thing that you want most in this world,' he said.
'Aha!' That was why Lord Beckett wanted the compass. If it worked as Jack said; it was likely that he was only delusional and just so happened to be lucky enough to find what he wanted while using it. Which could very well be the chest of Davy Jones! If she returned with that, surely she would be rewarded with whatever she wanted. 'Just need to get to the chest, find Will, and return to Port Royal with him, compass, and a beating heart.'
'Oh Jack,' she whispered with a smile on her face, hoping that he wouldn't realize any scheming on her part. 'Are you telling the truth?'
'Every word, love,' he nodded. 'Now what you want most in this world-' he placed the compass into her hands- 'is to find the chest of Davy Jones, is it not?'
'To save Will?' she half questioned, half corrected.
'By finding the chest of Davy Jones,' he opened the compass and darted away from her.
The needle of the compass began spinning immediately. It spun one way and then the other. What she wanted most in the world was not to save Will. At the top of that list was her father, safe and happy. Then to be free to do as she pleased. And then there was Lord Beckett. . . 'What you want most is to save Will, you want Davy Jones' chest, Davy Jones' chest, Davy-' The needle still spun, unconvinced of what she wanted. 'You want to find the chest of Davy Jones to save Will so that you can successfully make it back to Port Royal where you will free father, Will shall be sent to be a privateer away from you evil grasps, and you can vie for Lord Beckett once more. For all these things you need the chest first. The chest will help you even more than the compass.' The needle slowed to a two o'clock position. Elizabeth only hoped it had truly believed what she wanted most was the chest and the compass wouldn't send them somewhere incriminating.
Jack peeked over the edge of the compass. 'Mister Gibbs,' he called.
'Captain.'
'We have our heading.'
'Finally!' Mister Gibbs smiled. 'Cast off those lines, weigh anchor, and throw that canvas!'
Jack gestured towards the Black Pearl. 'Miss Swann.'
Elizabeth thought for a moment. Could she not simply run away with the compass? Did she need the heart? If Jack didn't have the compass then she safely put Lord Beckett as the only one able to find the chest, if it was really what he wanted. That could be rewarded greatly. She could hop onto another ship and make it back to Port Royal to save her father. But Will would be lost and she felt the upmost guilt for that. It was far better for her to hurt him and he be lost at sea on a ghost ship.
With a heavy sigh, Elizabeth went up the plank that lead onto the frigate, setting her choice in stone.
